Love Unscripted - Page 148/271

“Are you sure it won’t disturb you or ruin your performance? I don’t want to mmm-”

His wet mouth was locked on mine, stopping my words in mid stream.

“Please.” He kissed me again softly, resting his forehead on mine. “I need you to understand what I do. I need you to see that when I’m on set, I’m an actor. That what I do is pretend. My lips, my heart, and my body… they belong to you.”

I looked up at him and nodded. After eavesdropping on his conversation with Pete, I knew he wanted me to trust him.

“Do I have to make a poster and scream Ryan, Ryan?” I kidded.

“Hah!” He laughed. “The only time I want to hear you scream my name is when I’m making love to you. Although you did call me God the other night. That’s acceptable, too.” He leaned down and gave me another kiss.

I put on my nice dark trouser jeans, white long sleeved cotton top, with my brown suede zip jacket and a soft green scarf wrapped around my neck. I wanted to look nice the first time I met his parents, and I was nervous since I was meeting them alone.

We had agreed that I would bring his parents to see him in action tomorrow. Ryan showed me a picture of his mom and dad to help me recognize them easier, although I must admit it was hard to commit a picture flashed at me to memory. Both of his parents were in their upper fifties in age, but still looked quite vibrant and youthful. At least I knew that his poor parents would be seeking me out in the airport too.

I was, of course, photographed walking down the sidewalk to my car. I opted for leaving by the front door since most of the paparazzi were now loitering by my back door. I allowed my eyes to scan the area for any signs of the old blue Plymouth, and I was relieved that her car was nowhere to be seen. There were, however, a few love notes stuck to my car. I collected them and shoved them into the center console.

I kept checking my rear view mirror for any signs of photographers following me as I drove to the airport. I was relieved that I didn’t see any.

My nerves were getting the better of me as I stood in the open entrance to the airport; my stomach was filled with butterflies. Dads were always easier to win over; I knew from experience that it was always the mothers that were the challenge.

It was almost ten thirty when a new stream of passengers started to pass by. Their flight from Newark actually landed a few minutes early.

“Taryn?” A lovely woman politely approached me. His mother was just as I had pictured. She was about an inch shorter than me, five-five-ish, thin but softly padded by well earned years. She also had reddish brown hair that was long and thick on the top but cut short to her neck. I recognized her instantly; Ryan had his mother’s features and most definitely her eyes.

“Yes! Mrs. Christensen! It’s so nice to meet you!” We gave each other a hug.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you too, dear! Please, call me Ellen. This is Ryan’s father, Bill.”

I instinctively reached out my hand to shake his but he pulled me in for an awkward hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, sir!”

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, young lady!” Bill said with a huge grin on his face.

Ryan’s father was tall, just like Ryan, but with another thirty or so pounds of weight. I could see bits of his father in Ryan too. Bill’s face was rounder and clean-shaven and he wore rectangular wire-rimmed glasses. Ryan inherited his hair color from his father, although Bill’s hair had tinges of gray mingled in it. I pictured Ryan taking on his father’s looks one day.

“So this must be the Infiniti my son keeps telling me about,” Bill said from the passenger seat. I smiled as he ran his fingers over the dash.

“Ryan likes to drive it, and to be honest, I rather enjoy it when he does. He’s a great driver,” I stated proudly.

“We have his car in our garage back home. It was the first thing he bought when he cashed in his first big paycheck. Come to think of it, that car is the only thing he bought. I’m going to have to remind him that he can afford his own garage now. Then my car doesn’t have to sit in the driveway.”

“You will do no such thing, Bill,” Ellen reprimanded. “At least we know that we can get him to come home every once and a while, even if it is to visit his car.”

“Our son tells us that you’ve never seen any of his movies. Is that really true?” Bill pressed.

“Yes sir, it’s true.” I nodded my head. “I’ve never seen him act before. He wants us to come to the set tomorrow, so I suppose I’ll get to see him perform for the first time then.”