“Here, this is for you. I got you a little something when I was in New York.” His face showed his anticipation.
“Ryan!” I gazed at him lovingly, surprised that he bought me a present.
“Go on! Open it!” he urged.
I peeked inside the bag; nestled in the pretty tissue paper was a black jewelry box. He stared at me expectantly as I lifted the lid of the box.
Inside was a silver necklace with two diamond-encrusted hearts twined together, one inside the other. I looked at him, bewildered.
“Ryan, oh my God! This is absolutely beautiful!” I whispered, touching the pendant with the tip of my finger.
“I noticed you like to wear silver instead of gold, so I opted for white gold. Here, let me help you put it on.” He took the delicate chain out of the box.
I lifted my hair so he could attach the clasp. While he struggled with the delicate chain, my nervousness made my heart beat faster. I felt his hands rest on my shoulders when he was finished. He pressed his chest into my back.
“Do you like it?” he whispered seductively in my ear. I felt his warm breath on my skin as he trailed the tip of his nose down my neck.
“I love it,” I sighed, tilting my head even further to enjoy his nuzzle. “You shouldn’t have.” His gesture took me completely by surprise. I turned in his arms.
He smirked at me and slightly shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted to. You look beautiful wearing my heart.”
“Thank you!” I reached to kiss him.
He picked the bag back up off the bed and handed it to me. “There’s one more thing inside.”
I looked at him, perplexed. I reached inside the bag and found another black jewelry box in the tissue paper. This one was smaller. I felt all the color rush from my face.
I opened the box lid slowly. I gasped as my eyes took in the sight of spectacular diamond earrings, set in white gold as well. From the post, a diamond baguette led the way to where a diamond solitaire dangled below. The diamonds were at least a carat each.
“This is too much,” I breathed out. I was suddenly feeling very light-headed. “I can’t accept these.”
“Don’t you like them?” His face twisted with concern.
“They’re beautiful!” I gazed at them, watching the diamonds sparkle in the light. “But I can’t accept these. It’s too much. You shouldn’t have spent…” I could only imagine how expensive earrings like these were.
His fingers covered my lips. “If you like them, put them on. They’re yours.”
I stared at the box, unable to move my fingers. Dinner on the yacht, diamonds… it was too much. This man standing in front of me was not here because he was rich or famous. The only gift I wanted from him was the one thing that his money and fame could never buy – to be my one true love forever.
I snapped the box shut and handed it to him. “I can’t. One present was more than enough. Please.” I shook the box for him to take it out of my hand.
“Would you like something else? I could exchange them for a bracelet or something. Just tell me.” He tried to be accommodating.
“No.” I gently smiled. “I don’t want anything else. Please. This pendant was more than enough.”
He looked confused as his eyes toggled between questioning me and looking at the little black box in his hand.
He shrugged and became slightly irritated. “I’m not going to even pretend that I understand this.” He set the little box on my dresser.
We were instantly photographed the moment I opened the front door. Ryan and I hurried down the street to my car; we practically ran. I wished I had a closer parking spot, but my building was very close to the beach and most of the buildings never took parking into account.
Ryan had my car keys in his hand and every so often I felt his fingers touch my back when I wasn’t walking fast enough. As we crossed the street, we were surrounded by almost thirty people. We had photographers and people filming us, blinding us with flashes of light. The cameras clicked feverously.
Mixed in the crowd were several men begging him to sign glossy photos and a few obsessive female fans. They just hounded him. One girl with curly brown hair grabbed the sleeve of Ryan’s jacket, pulling him off-balance.
“Hey! Please don’t touch me!” Ryan yelled, yanking his arm away. “Come on, this is not cool!”
Everyone begged for photographs and autographs. “Ryan, Ryan, over here” – the words were chanted over and over again by the different intrusive menaces that plagued us.
I looked up to see the faces of some of his fans; they were mostly young girls – twenty somethings – but there were a few older women there as well. Even though he was with me, it didn’t matter. It was like I wasn’t even there to them. In some twisted way, I was actually glad the photographers were surrounding us; they provided a barrier between us and his female admirers.