by Tina Reber
I watched him take a deep breath and steel his shoulders. In an instant, my humble lover transformed back into the revered A-list movie star. He posed his body with empowered confidence, gave his signature smirk smile, and oozed that natural sexiness that was so graciously captured in thousands of pictures.
It was difficult not to be awed by it.
I panned the entire crowded entrance, the beginning of the red carpet, scanning for familiar faces, for danger, for clarity in the chaos. I stood back while Ryan posed in front of the wall for the throng of photographers. He was moved down the wall in what seemed like five-foot increments while photographers shouted for him to turn in their direction. When he got to the end of the wall, I could see the glaze forming over his eyes from enduring flash after flash.
He held out his hand to me, reclaiming his hold.
“We have—” David started, but Ryan cut him off, tugging me back to the space he’d just occupied on the wall. His hand slid to my ribs, pulling me into his side where I fit perfectly, posing us for the cameras.
My nerves were humming with excitement as I put on my best smile for them, for him.
“We look smashing, darling,” he uttered near my ear, joking with a funny accent to lighten the situation. I felt myself relax a bit more, knowing I was exactly where I was supposed to be, supporting my future husband.
After the prerequisite photo op, our entourage hurried us down the standard red carpet, avoiding all of the microphones, from every media outlet imaginable, that tilted out from behind the barriers, while other lesser-known actors and actresses were basking in the attention. Ryan was scheduled to be interviewed backstage, where he would talk the talk.
We were ushered to an open section of outdoor concrete where I spotted Suzanne Strass, Ryan’s co-star in the Seaside films. She was chatting it up with a man and another woman when she spotted me; her smile quickly faded as she eyed me up and down, as if I’d offended her by making an appearance here.
Call it cattiness, but something in me made me twist the huge diamond on my finger, my silent way of telling her to suck it.
I knew that they were going to be presenting a sneak peek of the second Seaside film tonight to ramp up the pending premiere, not to mention that he and Suzanne were up for several awards. She wasn’t a threat as much as she was a thorn in my side. I’d never forgive her for the trouble she caused when Ryan and I first got together, her silver tongue crafting stories, leading me to believe I was just a foolish conquest of his. I’d have to deal with her a few hundred more times, since Ryan had one more film and two press junkets to go through before he was rid of the franchise. I didn’t even want to think about all the interviews and magazine shoots to come.
Before I knew it, Suzanne was standing next to Ryan, pretending to tease him in her own playful way with mock punches. “Hey stranger,” she said on a giggle. Ryan gave her the obligatory distant hug but that was the extent of it. She leaned and gave me a quick shoulder hug as if we were long-lost friends who quite possibly were moments away from stabbing each other in the back. “So good to see you.”
I was shocked by her overt gesture but played it casual. “Good to see you, too. How have you been?” I figured it was benign enough. I could see she was straining to be polite just as much as I was.
Suzanne became animated, displaying exhaustion from an obvious busy career. “I had literally no time to even get ready for this. I just flew in from New York this morning.”
Even though Ryan was involved in another conversation with some man and woman who were blatantly sucking up to him, he entwined his fingers with mine and brought them up to his lips, kissing my left hand while sliding his eyes to Suzanne. I was confused at first until Suzanne scowled, which then had me smiling.
I let her babble on and pretended to be enthralled with her stories even though her presence alone invoked unpleasant memories of my first encounter with this wretched girl. She was the epitome of every diva story you’d ever heard about spoiled rich girls, even going so far as to tell us how deplorable the filming conditions were. If her fans ever knew what she was like in real life they’d probably all stop going to see her movies.
I felt Ryan squeeze my hand twice, a silent reminder that he was paying attention to my situation even though he was busy having his career manhandled by David. His thumb skated over my skin, comforting me with his unspoken acknowledgment. I felt cherished by his private gesture.
“Ryan,” Suzanne interrupted, “we need to discuss what we’re going to do if we win.” A twinge of jealousy struck me as she enthusiastically discussed how to accept their award, thinking of clever ways to act out their “best kiss” onstage. Thinking of him kissing anyone made me slightly crazy. I wanted to grab her by the hair and twirl her around but then what would that accomplish? No. I had to get a grip on my jealousy. He’s an actor, I reminded myself. Shit.
Small hands wrapped around my waist, startling me. It was such a relief to see Kelly Gael and her husband, Cal Reynolds, smiling back at me. I hugged her fiercely.
“I can’t wait for September,” Kelly uttered, bringing up the multi-country press junket for Seaside II.
The first stop was Berlin. “I need a partner in crime. Please tell me you’re going with Ryan.”
Ryan leaned back and answered for me. “She’s going.” And just like that, he resumed his other conversation.
I smiled, slightly astonished that he was even listening, considering all the commotion that was going on around us. Kelly squealed excitedly and clapped her hands, almost springing up and down in her designer pumps. She had just grabbed me to hug me again when I saw another familiar face, though the expression on it appeared sad.
I moved my head to peer around Kelly’s hair to get a better look at Ryan’s co-star from Slipknot —Nicole Devin. I wondered why she was so distraught. Too many people blocked my view, so I stepped back out of Kelly’s grasp and took a few sidesteps to my left, forcing Ryan to release my hand.
Nicole was apparently pleading with someone as if she’d done something that she’d regretted and was beseeching forgiveness, but I couldn’t see who it was. There was so much drama painted on her face that the desire to find out why became a burning need.
If the guy in the dark suit would just move, I thought, trying to will him to obey my mental plea. It shocked me when he turned his head, as if he’d actually heard me. I squinted, not sure that my eyes were accurate at this distance. He showed more of his profile, and that’s when I fully recognized him. I sucked in a deep breath, hoping my vision was betraying me; after all, I did have several glasses of champagne in me.
He glanced completely around, fortunately failing to connect with my gaze, which gave me a false sense of relief considering that I had no idea why he was here, nor did I want him to see me.
Ryan recaptured my hand, breaking my surveillance. “What are you looking at?”
I wanted him to wait so I wouldn’t lose track of my targets, but he moved in closer.
I looked up into his eyes, which were showing his concern. “Kyle is over there.”
I felt him go rigid. “Where?”
“He’s wearing a dark suit. Over there next to the woman in the light gray dress. See him?”
Ryan spotted him and then scowled, none too pleased that he was here. “The guy just won’t go away,”
he growled, seething now.
“Nicole is over there.” Some of the crowd moved along and that’s when I noticed who she’d been talking to, which confused me even more. “Is that?”
Ryan drew in a quick breath, exhaling out her name as if to purge his body of toxins. “Lauren.”
Wonderful. The bitch from Florida, in the flesh. “Are they arguing?”
“Appears so.”
Now I was even more curious, like watching one of those pathetic reality shows where the drama is over-the-top, but for some reason you just can’t shut it off. “I didn’t know they knew each other.”
Ryan’s hand ti
ghtened on mine, almost to the point of pain. “I didn’t know, either.”
It obviously bothered Ryan to see them all interacting, although judging by the way Kyle glanced around, he seemed bored with the whole thing. I watched as Kyle’s gaze lingered on the very short dress and long, bare legs just a few feet away.
Lauren seemed to be making a point, trying to placate Nicole now. Apparently the heated conversation had taken a new turn. Lauren pulled Nicole in for a hug. I was shocked by their overt friendliness; Nicole had her face pretty much buried in Lauren’s neck, and then for a moment I swore they were about to kiss.
Ryan tugged my hand, irritated by it all. “Come.”
I wanted to resist, reluctant to tear my eyes away from the girl drama, but his tone left no room for arguments.
By the time we reached the after-party at the Soho House in West Hollywood, I had met and mingled with more famous people than I ever thought imaginable. My mind and body were buzzing with the glitz and glamour that came along with Ryan’s chosen profession, not to mention being blinded by hundreds of paparazzi flashes on our way in the door.
As we hurried away from the throng of photographers screaming, shouting, and chasing us, I wondered how Ryan managed to stay humble and grounded with all of this attention. Even I felt a tinge of supremacy from being with him, knowing that several of the people around us at this lavish party would kill to be in either of our positions.
Ryan had won three awards tonight for his role as Charles Conroy, and I was so damn proud of him it was hard to not be smug about it. Even when he and Suzanne won the award for Best Kiss, I felt extremely proud. I was glad he didn’t kiss her onstage. He promised me he wouldn’t, stating that I would be the only woman he kissed in public.
As I glanced around the packed affair, my eyes landed on the very lovely ass of Ian Somerhalder. Zac Efron was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation. To hell with the MTV swag gift bags; this was definitely more of a gift than anything. I was morphing into a freaking fangirl being so close to them. My fingers itched to take out my cell, capture a few photos, and send them on to Marie so we could squeal about them.
Screw it.
I tried to stifle my starstruck enthusiasm. Marie would die if she knew I could hit Ian with a spitball, he was that close. I snuck my cell phone out and took a discreet picture, needing to torment her.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked. He seemed partially amused and slightly disappointed.
I created a new text message. “Tormenting Marie.”
He gave me that “are you kidding?” glare, but I ignored him. It was Ian Smolderhalder for cripes sake and honestly, this close, he was even better-looking in person. Marie would be jumping over chairs if she were this close to him, asking the poor guy to sign his name on her body somewhere close to her boobs with indelible ink.
I heard Ryan scoff when he spied over my shoulder to see who I captured on my cell. “His ass? You took a close-up of his ass?”
I knew I should feel guilty but altruism warred with those feelings. “It’s a gift for Marie. She’s going to flip.”
“I thought she only had eyes for my ass.” The tiny pout on his face was pathetically endearing.
I was glad he was being playful about my paparazzi moment. “She’s used the bathroom after you’ve been in it, Ryan. The mystery and allure are gone now. You’ve effectively killed it for her.”
He rolled his eyes and then frowned at both me and Ian. “That guy takes a shit, too, you know.”
I shook my head to disagree. “No, he doesn’t. He’s still in god status and we all know that gods don’t poop.”
“Oh, come on! For real?”
“Yes. You didn’t poop, either—ever—until she discovered you were a mere mortal.”
His eyebrows almost hit his hairline. “So I was a pseudo-god?”
It was hard to text and debate at the same time. “Or a constipated, time-traveling demigod.”
Ryan almost spit out his beer. “I can’t believe you just said that about me. We’re not even married yet and I’ve lost my god status.”
I shrugged while my thumbs kept typing. “I was on to you the moment I saw blood on your face. I knew you could be wounded. Gods can’t bleed. Everyone knows they are protected by mystical forces.”
His hand landed on my hip, pulling me into his groin. “But you’ve called me ‘God’ hundreds of times now. Have you been lying all this time?”
I met his darkened eyes, and was excited by his aggressiveness. “If I tell you the truth, there will be no living with you and your huge ego. You know I worship you, so that should count for something.”
I watched as his devilish tongue slid out to wet his lips. I wanted those wet lips on me, wanted to taste the flavor of bliss on his tongue.
Ryan held out his cell, angling it. “You want a picture? I want a picture, too,” he uttered close to my lips. “Look at the camera and smile, baby.” After he captured our smiles, he captured my mouth.
And then someone bumped into me, on purpose.
“Hey! No making out.” I looked over into the goofy, disapproving face of Ryan’s Seaside co-star, Kathleen Jarrett, and took in her awesome black sequin dress and gorgeous eyes. Behind her, her handsome actor boyfriend, Ben Harrison, beamed, flashing those adorable dimples.
“She’s taking pictures of Somerhalder’s ass,” Ryan said dryly, tipping back his glass of beer while he discreetly indented his partial erection into my hip.
Kat gapped at me. “Really?”
I sucked in a quick breath from feeling the unspoken need in Ryan’s pants and the silent point he was trying to make. Kat was waiting for an answer, so no sense denying it. “It’s for Marie. She’ll get a kick out of it. I’ve got to get one of Zac Efron, too. She’ll freak.”
“Ooh, I know him. You want to meet him?” Kat asked, bouncing excitedly.
“No, she doesn’t,” Ryan answered for me.
Kat rolled her eyes and finished her drink. “Jealous much?”
Ryan scoffed, taking another sip. I patted his gloriously tight abs. “He knows I love him and only him.”
Soon we were surrounded by most of the Seaside cast, all of us laughing, joking, and downing plenty of expensive alcohol. Even Suzanne was tolerable.
Kat set her glass down on the table. “I need to use a bathroom. Taryn, go with me?”
Ryan leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “Don’t get lost.”
I took my hand off his thigh and followed Kat through the tightly packed crowd. Why is it that when you’re slightly buzzed and wearing uncomfortable shoes, the ladies’ room becomes a half-mile walk? Kat squeezed past some people, turning to grab my hand to pull me through. I couldn’t help but giggle with her when we got to an open space.
She wrapped her arm around mine. “That was fun.”
I was still laughing, having a blast when I sort of fumbled in my tracks, unsure if my eyes were deceiving me. Sure enough, two girls were making out hot and heavy in a darkened corner.
Holy hell. Welcome to Hollywood.
Should I be shocked or turned on by their blatant public display? The whole thing had me quite bemused until one of them broke away and made eye contact.
I staggered. Holy hell, that’s . . .
Lauren Delaney.
Sucking face with Nicole Devin.
Never in a million years . . .
The second Lauren saw me she pulled back from Nicole, shoving her away, apparently flustered from being caught.
“What are you looking at?” Kat asked, yanking on my arm.
I nodded my chin and Kat guffawed loudly, apparently just as shocked as I was.
“Oh my God. I . . . Wait until I tell Ryan.” I thought Kat was going to double over with laughter. “He’s turning all his leading ladies into lesbians.”
I gave her a stern look. “That’s not funny.”
“Oh yes it is! What are the odds?” She looked over her shoulder. “That means Suzanne is next.”
We were outside the women’s bathroom when my cell rang. It was Marie, probably calling to squeal in my ear over Ian Smolderhalder’s exquisite derriere.
“I almost touched it!” I blurted excitedly, not even bothering to say hello.
I could tell by the first sound she made that she was upset. “Taryn, listen. Tammy just called. Pete was just rushed back to the hospital. I don’t know what’s going on but she said that he tried to walk and couldn’t feel his leg so she called the ambulance. I guess he fell in their bedroom.”
My slightly inebriated condition mixed with a power shot of worried adrenaline made me feel lightheaded. I covered my other ear with my hand, trying to hear her over the chatter and noise. By the time I hung up with her, I felt as if I’d been socked in the stomach. I left Kat behind in the bathroom and hurried back to the table to tell Ryan.
Ryan halted in mid-sentence when he saw me. “Tar?” One word that said, You only went to the bathroom. What the hell happened?
I glanced at the cell still in my hand while horrible visions of Pete not being able to walk down the aisle of his own wedding plagued my thoughts. “They just took Pete back to the hospital.” I filled him in with what little I knew.
He took a deep breath then Kat suddenly bounced up behind him, all too excited to tell him what we witnessed on our way to the bathroom.
Ryan’s mouth fell open. “You’re shitting me.”
Kat was having too much fun teasing him like this. “Full-on tongue action.”
I actually saw him shudder. “You’re positive it was Lauren and Nicole Devin? Positive?”
Kat looked at me and we both nodded.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair, digesting this new information. “Wow. Good for them, I guess.”
I tried to change the subject, talking about anything that didn’t involve things that Ryan would stew over, but I could see that the news had affected him, slightly changing his mood. He was with Lauren for a while when they dated a few years ago; they’d been intimate for months. Ryan was not the type of man who could switch off his emotions.
