with your head.”
“Well, I solemnly swear that I will not divulge that information to anyone. I’ll take it all to my grave!”
“Yeah, I guess you’re pretty trustworthy. You wouldn’t even tell your best friends that you puked your guts out last night,” he teased.
“No,” I corrected. “I wouldn’t tell my best friends that you puked your guts out last night.”
“Speaking of puking… how are you feeling? Is the toast doing the trick?”
I nodded my head and took a sip of ginger ale. “I’m starting to feel better, thanks.”
“Good,” he said as he playfully tossed a pillow at me.
I faked like I was going to toss the pillow back at him, but instead I just set it down next to my leg.
His eyes flickered between looking at the pillow and looking at me. With a quick lunge, he curled his body down on the couch. It seemed like he
purposely fiddled with the pillow until it was in the perfect position under his head but mostly on my thigh. His feet hung out over the edge.
Our eyes met and I instantly felt his pull. I couldn’t resist it any longer. Without even thinking, I softly ran my fingers through his hair. His eyes
closed and he sighed as I touched him.
He took my other hand off his shoulder and laid it across his heart.
Chapter 8 – Reflections
“Tar – hurry up, they’re going to replay it!” Ryan yelled from the couch. I was refilling my water at the refrigerator in the kitchen.
“Watch this! Watch! The idiot is going to light the dynamite and then he doesn’t run. I can’t believe they are showing this on TV! Wait… it’s
going to blow him back like thirty feet. Oh! Oh! And boom!” he echoed.
I winced after seeing some moron fly through the air from sheer stupidity. I resumed my spot on the couch; Ryan adjusted the pillow on my thigh
and pulled my hand back to his chest.
“I wonder how long he was in the hospital after that one,” I asked, leaning more of my body onto him so I could stroke his hair again. We were so
comfortable together.
“This is the bad thing about television - three minutes of show and eight minutes of commercials,” he groaned.
He was just about to turn the channel to something else when his phone chimed in his pocket. He looked at the number before accepting the
call.
“Hey Pete! Yeah, she’s feeling better.” His eyes looked up at me and his hand reached for my forehead.
“We were just watching Mega Explosions. You’re watching it too? Oh my God, did you see that guy? What an asshole! What did he think was
gonna happen?”
While he was lying across my lap, I was secretly reveling in the fact that Ryan and Pete were getting along so well. I had always hoped that
whoever I was with would get along with my friends. My ex-fiancé Thomas and Pete never saw eye to eye. There was always tension between them.
I should have taken that as a warning sign right from the get-go, but I tried to make everyone happy while being quietly miserable inside.
But Ryan and Pete seemed to be in perfect synch right from the start. A huge smile crossed my lips.
“Here, Pete wants to talk to you.” Ryan handed his phone to me.
“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Pete asked.
“I’m feeling better, thanks. I’m still achy though. Ryan made me toast and it helped to take my headache away.”
“Oh, Ryan made you toast, did he?” he teased.
“Yes… and your point?” I snickered.
“Nothing. I’m just happy for ya. And I’m glad that you’re feeling better. Tammy wants you to call her tomorrow. You two need to iron out the final
menu for Sunday so we can get the food on order.”
“Okay, I will. But I don’t want any seafood from Sheckys. I’m pretty sure it was the lobster tails that made us sick last night. I got sick right after
eating it. I mean it tasted all right, but within a half hour or so we were both violently ill.” I looked down at Ryan and combed my fingers through his
hair.“
I don’t want any seafood from wherever those tails came from!” Ryan confirmed loud enough for Pete to hear.
“All right, I’ll tell her that. Well I’m sorry you weren’t feeling good, but it sounds like you’re on the mend, so… hey, can I talk to Ryan again?” Pete
asked.
“Yeah! Sure.” I was momentarily surprised by his request.
“Yeah Pete, what’s up?” Ryan sat up to talk. “Yeah, I am, why? They play at eight on Sunday; I was hoping to watch it.” He started chewing on his
fingers again. “She is? Are you are freaking kidding me?” His eyes shot over to mine. The way he reacted made me wonder what they were talking
about.
“Are you serious? Unbelievable!” He breathed out a long sigh. “That’s… really good to know.” He chuckled. “Thanks!”
Ryan had a huge grin on his face as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. I was staring at him, hoping that he would let me in on the
conversation.
“So, Taryn… Pete tells me that you are a big-time Pittsburgh Steelers fan. Is this true?”
“Oh, yeah! And a huge Pens fan too.” I nodded.
“You like ice hockey, too?” He looked at me like I was lying.
“I love hockey,” I said with a big yawn, feeling sleepy and drained.
“You know I grew up near Pittsburgh, right?” he asked, waiting for my confirmation.
“No, I didn’t. You only told me that you’re from Pennsylvania or ‘PeeAye’ as you call it. Oh wait, you did tell me that you attended Pitt.” I yawned
again. “So you like football too, I take it?”
He was just sitting there shaking his head in disbelief again.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he dismissed my stare, getting up to stretch.
I saw him glancing around, taking in the sights of my different belongings. He ran his fingers over my DVD collection and commented that I didn’t
have any of his movies.
“Sorry, not a fan.” I shrugged, teasing him.
He leered at me.
“Wait a minute!” he said as he pulled a DVD from the shelf. “You do have a movie I was in!” He showed the cover to me. I honestly could not
remember if he was in the movie or not.
“You weren’t in that movie!”
“Actually I am,” he stressed. “My part was supposed to be bigger, but I got edited down to only four speaking lines. I’m in the mall scene.”
Ryan started to reminisce about the beginnings of his acting career and how his life was almost normal back in those days. How he could go out
in public and barely, if ever, be recognized.
“So how many movies have you been in?”
“This Seaside we are filming now will be my sixth; that’s including the small role in this movie.” He waved the DVD box in the air.
“First film was an indie flick called Forever Wanting More. It did so-so at the Sundance Film Festival but now it’s coming out on DVD – go
figure. Then I played Ashby in Watchtower. I guess you could say that’s the role that got my name out there.”
“Wait, when did you go to California?”
“When I auditioned for Watchtower. I ended up sharing an apartment with Alan Schefler.”
It didn’t take Ryan long to see the confusion on my face.
“He’s another actor I met when we started filming. Did you ever see Watchtower?”
“No,” I said sheepishly, slightly embarrassed that I had never seen any of his movies.
He gave me a disapproving look. “Well, you didn’t miss much. I died a horrible death in battle. Then I did this timeless piece.” He put the DVD
back on the shelf.
“While my scenes were being edited down to just about nothing, I started the first Seaside. I just wrapped on a film called Reparation a few
weeks ago. Did you hear of that one yet?” he asked teasingly.
I felt guilty – that surely meant I must have looked guilty too. “I’ve heard of Watchtower and Seaside - does that count?”