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“How about a high pressure fire hose?” I muttered, peeking out behind the blind.
“I can get you some stink bombs,” Jason offered. Ryan grimaced at him. “No, I’m serious. The special effects trailer is loaded with cool shit.”
Jason’s comment about the movie set reminded me of another phone call I had to make. I called Cory.
Not only did I want him to cover my absence while Ryan’s parents were in town, but having a man working in the bar suddenly sounded very reassuring.
“Dude, we’re gonna roll,” Jason said on his way to the door, slapping his hand into Ryan’s.
I led them down the stairs so I could turn the alarm off once again.
“Jason, thank you so much for all your help. I truly appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Jason smiled back at me. “I’m glad to see it all worked out for him.” He motioned his head back to Ryan.
As the boys left, I could see a few police officers moving everyone along. I was thankful that the police made the vans across the street move too. They were at metered parking spots; unfortunately after six p.m., the parking meters were no longer valid.
I returned to my laundry detail; Ryan helped fold some of his clothes. I moved the shirts he picked out of the boxes from the washer to the dryer.
“Taryn, we need to talk,” he said, leading me back to the bedroom.
I had no idea what he wanted to talk about. He sat me down on the bed.
“I was wondering how you felt about me staying here. Wherever I am, that follows.” He tilted his head towards the living room. “I’m worried about how it affects you and, well, your business.”
I shrugged his comment off. I was more concerned about his safety than mine.
“Ryan, I’m fine with you staying here. I guess I just overreacted a bit when I saw how your fans terrorize you. It angered me. At least when you’re here, I can protect you.
“To be honest, I love having your arms around me at night and waking up next to you in the morning. After all, isn’t that what it’s about anyway - two people, in love, together?”
He picked my hand up in his and smiled. “Yeah, it is! But unfortunately the fans and the paparazzi - they follow,” he reminded.
“I know, and I don’t care. I do care about you though.” I looked directly into his eyes.
“Hmm,” he lightly purred, apparently pleased by my comment. “So you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah!” I smiled and nodded.
He took a deep breath. “Then how would you feel if I told you I wanted to stay here more? Maybe even every night?”
I swallowed while the exhilaration from his question flooded my heart and circled confusion in my brain.
“What?” I breathed out. “Are you saying you want to move in with me?” My sheer surprise came out as a whisper.
“Well, I was just thinking that when I’m done working, instead of going to the hotel, I could come here. This is where I want to be anyway. What do you think?” he asked hesitantly, biting his bottom lip.
I took a deep breath, gathering my words before I spoke. Was he even allowed to do something like this while under contract to film? I had to ask. “I think…”
His cell phone rang on the nightstand. “Shit, hold that thought…” He looked at the number and took the call.
“David, hey. I’m doing great! Yeah, I have a minute.” Ryan covered his phone with his hand. “My manager,” he whispered to me.
His face morphed from an elated smile to a look of disgust in an instant.
“No, I didn’t move out of the hotel. I don’t know why they called you. I just had all my things retrieved so I could wash my clothes, that’s all,” he sighed.
I watched Ryan start to rub his forehead. He walked out of the bedroom but he didn’t go far; I could still hear every word clearly.
“I’ve been staying at Taryn’s,” I heard him confess.
Apparently his manager knew about me.
“I’ll take my chances. You know, David, I just don’t give a shit anymore. I am so sick and tired of hiding and having every fucking detail of my life become public knowledge.” Ryan’s voice became louder, distressed.
“I’m done with being locked up in some hotel like a prisoner. I’m sick of it! It’s been like this for over two years. I’m going out of my mind! I want to have a normal relationship with someone for once.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m no longer allowed to have a personal life,” he responded defensively. “I wish someone would have told me that I’m not allowed to have a fucking life at all because I sure don’t remember seeing that clause in any of my contracts!”
