We laughed. I wanted to point out that polyandry wasn’t quite the right word for what we were, but it did make a sort of sense since my men only had eyes for me. The laughter died, and with it went some of the air in my lungs.
“We almost got caught in the tents. The photographer was looking for you and me, but he almost caught me with Callan instead.”
Ryan shrugged. “So?”
“We discussed the idea of my taking one of them as my ‘public’ boyfriend, but I said no. I don’t want that kind of pressure on any of them.”
“Well, if you’re pregnant,” he said, gesturing at me, “that’s going to cause even more pressure than a public boyfriend ever could.”
Dread pooled in my belly. “There’s no way,” I said, mostly to myself. “I have an implant. it basically has stopped my period, so there’s no way that I’ve actually been fertile.”
“My mother had me after getting her tubes tied,” Ryan said. “Life finds a way, my friend.”
Well, that’s less than comforting, I thought. The hairdresser was coming back with a different brand of glue, and she also had my wig. “Let’s just... drop this, okay?” I said. “Please, don’t say anything to anyone.”
“I swear,” he said. “I don’t fancy ending up in a mine.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks, Ryan.”
He winked. “Anytime, babe.”
Somehow, against all odds, this man and I became friends, and it felt good to have one outside of Foster, Callan, and Ethan. My men were great, to be sure, but still... it was nice to be able to sit and talk like this.
I took the next forty minutes to get ready, and then Lee called us to set for the big death scene. Ryan struggled for a take or two—it was kind of nice to see someone else draw Lee’s ire for a bit—but when nothing changed, I whispered to him, “Keep your eyes open when you die.”
“What?”
“When you die, keep looking at me. Go blank in your expression, but don’t close your eyes. Dead people don’t really close their eyes unless they’re already closed.”
Ryan took my advice, and the next take was perfection. Lee patted me on the shoulder. “This turns out well, and I’ll give you an assistant director credit for the film,” he said.
Ryan, who was still sprawled across my lap, glared at me. “Lucky bitch.”
I shrugged. “Throw me some useful advice in a scene and get your own credit.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, but I reminded him, “It has to be agooddirection that helps the movie.”
“Damn.”
We ran the scene one more time so that Lee could watch my side of the scene, and it was deemed a success. Lee wanted to start blocking out the fight scene as well, but our stunt coordinators were held up in Sydney. “So I suppose we can save it for tomorrow,” he said.
We wrapped, and I dragged Ryan off before Callan could come near me. “Can you do me a favor?
Ryan smirked. “A sexy favor?”
I wanted to smack him. “No, dumbass,” I said. “I need you to distract Callan while I run to the drugstore for a pregnancy test.”
He paled—actually paled—at the thought. “Are you out of your mind? That man will kill me.”
I would say that he was exaggerating, but I had no way of being 100 percent sure of that. “Okay... could you get me one?”
Ryan’s face twisted uncomfortably, but he nodded. “That seems like the safer choice for me, honestly. Keep him here a little longer, and I’ll have someone drive me to go get one.”
“Thanks, Ryan.”
He shrugged. “This makes us friends now, right? There’s not a chance in hell of anything romantic happening between us?”
“I’m fairly certain that’s a safe assumption,” I said.Not that there was a chance before, I added in my head.
He let out a breath that was almost... relieved. I must have had a look on my face because he put his hands up in an “I’m harmless” gesture.