Ryan tugged my hand, irritated by it all.

“Come.”

I wanted to resist, reluctant to tear my eyes away from the girl drama, but his tone left no room for arguments.

By the time we reached the after-party at the Soho House in West Hollywood, I had met and mingled with more famous people than I ever thought imaginable. My mind and body were buzzing with the glitz and glamour that came along with Ryan’s chosen profession, not to mention being blinded by hundreds of paparazzi flashes on our way in the door.

As we hurried away from the throng of photographers screaming, shouting, and chasing us, I wondered how Ryan managed to stay humble and grounded with all of this attention. Even I felt a tinge of supremacy from being with him, knowing that several of the people around us at this lavish party would kill to be in either of our positions.

Ryan had won three awards tonight for his role as Charles Conroy, and I was so damn proud of him it was hard to not be smug about it. Even when he and Suzanne won the award for Best Kiss, I felt extremely proud. I was glad he didn’t kiss her onstage. He promised me he wouldn’t, stating that I would be the only woman he kissed in public.

As I glanced around the packed affair, my eyes landed on the very lovely ass of Ian Somerhalder. Zac Efron was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation. To hell with the MTV swag gift bags; this was definitely more of a gift than anything. I was morphing into a freaking fangirl being so close to them.

My fingers itched to take out my cell, capture a few photos, and send them on to Marie so we could squeal about them.

Screw it.

I tried to stifle my starstruck enthusiasm.

Marie would die if she knew I could hit Ian with a spitball, he was that close. I snuck my cell phone out and took a discreet picture, needing to torment her.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked. He seemed partially

amused and slightly

disappointed.

I created a new text message. “Tormenting Marie.”

He gave me that “are you kidding?” glare, but I ignored him. It was Ian Smolderhalder for cripes sake and honestly, this close, he was even better-looking in person. Marie would be jumping over chairs if she were this close to him, asking the poor guy to sign his name on her body somewhere close to her boobs with indelible ink.

I heard Ryan scoff when he spied over my shoulder to see who I captured on my cell.

“His ass? You took a close-up of his ass?”

I knew I should feel guilty but altruism warred with those feelings. “It’s a gift for Marie. She’s going to flip.”

“I thought she only had eyes for my ass.” The tiny pout on his face was pathetically endearing.

I was glad he was being playful about my paparazzi moment. “She’s used the bathroom after you’ve been in it, Ryan. The mystery and allure are gone now. You’ve effectively killed it for her.”

He rolled his eyes and then frowned at both me and Ian. “That guy takes a shit, too, you know.”

I shook my head to disagree. “No, he doesn’t. He’s still in god status and we all know that gods don’t poop.”

“Oh, come on! For real?”

“Yes. You didn’t poop, either—ever—until she discovered you were a mere mortal.” His eyebrows almost hit his hairline. “So I was a pseudo-god?”

It was hard to text and debate at the same time. “Or a constipated, time-traveling demigod.”

Ryan almost spit out his beer. “I can’t believe you just said that about me. We’re not even married yet and I’ve lost my god status.”

I shrugged while my thumbs kept typing.

“I was on to you the moment I saw blood on your face. I knew you could be wounded.

Gods can’t bleed. Everyone knows they are protected by mystical forces.” His hand landed on my hip, pulling me in-to his groin. “But you’ve called me ‘God’ hundreds of times now. Have you been lying all this time?”

I met his darkened eyes, and was excited by his aggressiveness. “If I tell you the truth, there will be no living with you and your huge ego. You know I worship you, so that should count for something.”

I watched as his devilish tongue slid out to wet his lips. I wanted those wet lips on me, wanted to taste the flavor of bliss on his tongue.

Ryan held out his cell, angling it. “You want a picture? I want a picture, too,” he uttered close to my lips. “Look at the camera and smile, baby.” After he captured our smiles, he captured my mouth.

And then someone bumped into me, on purpose.

“Hey! No making out.” I looked over into the goofy, disapproving face of Ryan’s Seaside co-star, Kathleen Jarrett, and took in her awesome black sequin dress and gorgeous eyes. Behind her, her handsome actor boyfriend, Ben Harrison, beamed, flashing those adorable dimples.

“She’s taking pictures of Somerhalder’s ass,” Ryan said dryly, tipping back his glass of beer while he discreetly indented his partial erection into my hip.

Kat gapped at me. “Really?”

I sucked in a quick breath from feeling the unspoken need in Ryan’s pants and the silent point he was trying to make. Kat was waiting for an answer, so no sense denying it. “It’s for Marie. She’ll get a kick out of it. I’ve got to get one of Zac Efron, too. She’ll freak.”

“Ooh, I know him. You want to meet him?” Kat asked, bouncing excitedly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ryan answered for me.

Kat rolled her eyes and finished her drink.

“Jealous much?”

Ryan scoffed, taking another sip. I patted his gloriously tight abs. “He knows I love him and only him.”

Soon we were surrounded by most of the Seaside cast, all of us laughing, joking, and downing plenty of expensive alcohol. Even Suzanne was tolerable.

Kat set her glass down on the table. “I need to use a bathroom. Taryn, go with me?”

Ryan leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “Don’t get lost.”

I took my hand off his thigh and followed Kat through the tightly packed crowd. Why is it that when you’re slightly buzzed and wearing uncomfortable shoes, the ladies’ room becomes a half-mile walk? Kat squeezed past some people, turning to grab my hand to pull me through. I couldn’t help but giggle with her when we got to an open space.

She wrapped her arm around mine. “That was fun.”

I was still laughing, having a blast when I sort of fumbled in my tracks, unsure if my eyes were deceiving me. Sure enough, two girls were making out hot and heavy in a darkened corner.