If I say, “sure, come on over and hop in my bed again” – would he deem me easy?

If I say, “no, because I really want a relationship and not a one-night stand” – would he move on?

Why am I mentally torturing myself? Remember Taryn, he’s going to be swirling out of your town and out of your life in a few weeks.

Just because he is popular and well known, does that make him exempt from having to win my heart? Well, that’s silly. He cracks my will every time he is in the same room with me, so he really doesn’t have to try too hard to win my affection.

Maybe one day when I’m old and gray I can tell my story of how I had unbelievably insane sex with a movie star once? That would be something to tell the grandkids.

Maybe my name could be a sub-text blurb under his name on some Ryan Christensen website. October – slept with foolish girl in Rhode Island before he met his movie star wife and went on to have blue-eyed babies with her.

I used to see everything so black or white. Once I made a decision, I stuck by it. But since this man entered my life, my whole being has been disrupted and blurred in shades of gray-tinted what-if’s.

One thing was for sure: if I give in to him, I would want him again and again. There would not be a way to survive a one-time encounter with him.

Ryan’s foot touching my foot was enough of a gesture to make me want him. And when he held me this morning, his fingers twined with mine, his body pressed against me, making love to him was all I could think of.

“Taryn, are you okay?” Marie’s voice snapped me back into the room. “Why are you sitting in the corner? Are you sick?”

“Just mentally torturing myself,” I muttered.

“Oh, I see. And how’s that going for ya?” she asked, cracking a grin at me.

“Not good. The angel and the devil are debating on whether I should cave or stand my ground.”

“Finally! It took you long enough!” she said excitedly. “And?”

I shrugged.

“You know what I think? I think you should stop all this nonsense and screw the shit out of him until he passes out from exhaustion. And when he wakes up, wash him and then screw the daylights out of him again!” She was beaming at me.

“You’ll have to feed him, of course, to keep his energy level up, but make sure you hide his clothes so he can’t get dressed. Men can’t run when they’re naked.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Thanks! I needed that.”

“Come on,” she said while pulling me off the box in the corner. “Let’s get you focused. It will be like training an athlete.”

Our Saturday night crowd was unusually light. I didn’t have a band scheduled, so I presumed that we wouldn’t have as many customers, but since Ryan had been to my place twice, every night seemed to be busy. I wondered why tonight was different. I noticed that the influx of extr a women was missing. A few guys came in, but when they saw that the place was devoid of a hearty selection of women, they packed up and left.

“I thought we would be getting hammered by now,” Marie huffed. “Where is the second wave of customers?”

One of the ladies sitting at the bar chimed in. “Ryan Christensen’s whereabouts were posted on the Internet. My girlfriend called to tell me that the cast is eating at The Synful Grill. It has a new nightclub attached called Synergy. She said the bar is so packed that you can’t even walk through the place.”

“I’ve been there once,” Cory said. “There’s a ten dollar cover charge just to get in. Drinks were really expensive too. I’m sure there are lots of women there tonight.”

Great! Apparently Ryan was occupying his time with other activities. I wondered if it was because I didn’t reply to his last text about seeing him tonight. Would he move on that quickly? Apparently… It was almost eleven o’clock when my phone rang instead of vibrating. I listened to my new ringtone, letting the song play out so I could hear the lyrics. My smile was huge.

“Hey you,” Ryan breathed out. “Are you working hard?”

“No, not really. We’re kind of dead, actually. What are you up to?” It was hard to hide my enthusiasm.

“I’m at some restaurant. We just finished eating.”

“Wow. This late?” I looked at my watch. “It’s almost eleven.”

“Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but we had a director’s meeting at eight and then it took a while for all our food to come out. The food pretty much sucked. It was disappointing,” he snickered.