❤️Mac❤️
"You made it."
I decide not to tell Ryan how close I was to not coming tonight. Instead, I lift up the brown paper bag in my hands.
"I wasn't sure what we were having, so I brought red and white wine. The white is already chilled."
He takes the wine from me. "Perfect. Either will go fine. Come on in," he says, stepping back.
My heart quickens in anticipation as I walk past him, but he doesn't touch me.
"I hope you're hungry," Ryan says as we walk into his apartment.
Almost immediately, my eyes settle on the large floor-to-ceiling window in his lounge room. We all envy Ryan's apartment. The dim lights in the room make the sight of the Melbourne skyline, all lit up, even more spectacular. To the side of the window, a table has been set for two. In the middle of the table is a single blood-red rose in a vase, atop a crisp white linen tablecloth.
"Dinner is prepped, but I didn't want to start cooking till you were here. It won't take me long."
I turn around to see Ryan disappearing into the kitchen with the wine I brought. I need some liquid courage right now. I can't remember the last time I was this nervous on a date – I’ve never been this nervous, period. All the way to Ryan's apartment, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Brad's words.
"If you do decide the cons outweigh the pros, don't break his heart too bad."
The idea of breaking the heart of Australia's Romeo seems preposterous, but Brad sounded so serious. As if that alone wasn't confusing enough, Brad mentioned that Ryan was thinking about quitting Hart's Valley, that he was worried about the future if things didn't work out between us.
My head is a mess. So much has happened in a single day. Tonight, I need to make a decision about whether I want to pursue a relationship with the man I love, but how do I begin?
Ever since leaving the set, all I've wanted to do is ask Ryan about Lyndel. At the same time, I am absolutely terrified of bringing up her name. What will he say when he finds out his former co-star is back? Will he be happy? Or will he pretend not to care?
Brad has told me more than once that I needed to talk to Ryan about my worries. As horrified as I am at the idea of laying bare my insecurities, he is right. If Ryan really loves me, then I owe it to him to talk things through before I make a decision.
I walk into the kitchen and watch as Ryan pulls several bowls and jars out of the refrigerator. He still hasn't mentioned what we are eating, but judging by the ingredients he is placing on the countertop, I'm going to guess it is spaghetti carbonara.
"Can I help?" I ask.
"Ah, the garlic bread needs to go in the oven, and the wine needs to be opened and poured."
"I can do that," I say quickly.
He looks at me with a knowing smile. "Nervous?"
Hell yes! "Just a little."
He grins. "Wine glasses are on the table."
I quickly locate the garlic bread in the fridge and open it before sliding it out of its packaging.
"There's already a tray in the oven. Mitts are in the cupboard above the oven."
I open the oven door and carefully place the garlic bread on the tray. Then I go to retrieve the two wine glasses.
"White or red?" I ask as he pours oil into a frying pan.
"You pick."
"Red then? It'll go with pasta."
"Great."
I undo the screw cap on the bottle and pour it straight away. I hand him a glass and take a long sip of my own wine. Having a glass of wine on an empty stomach will calm my nerves. Then I will feel confident enough to ask him about Lyndel. I will ask him how he expects things to work out between us when our boss is dead set against it.
I watch and admire him as Ryan works quickly and deftly in his small kitchen. With his dark trousers and silver-striped dress shirt open at the collar and rolled up at the cuffs, he looks handsome and perfect, every bit the TV star and heartbreaker I know him to be.
After stirring in the ingredients, Ryan asks me about the final scene I shot with Brad and Vanessa today. Then he announces dinner is ready.
"The garlic bread should be ready," he says. "It only takes eight minutes."
Right, I should be concentrating on the small task he's given me. I pull the garlic bread out with the mitts before placing it on the plate that Ryan had waiting.
I carefully unwrap the foil. "The top isn't brown."
I was too busy staring at Ryan to remember to uncover the foil for the last minute or two.
"I can put it back in for another minute," I offer.
"Forget it," he says as he serves the pasta into the large bowls he takes out of the cupboard. "It's all good. I'm ready to eat now."
Ryan picks up both bowls of pasta, and I grab the wine glasses, following him to the table. He pulls out my chair and places the cloth napkin across my lap before returning to the kitchen to bring out the wine and garlic bread.
"This is a service I could get used to," I say, then close my mouth quickly when I realize I misspoke.
"That's the idea," Ryan grins and takes a seat opposite me.
It's the first mention he has made regarding the non-casual nature of our dinner date. My nerves return in full force, causing my stomach to drop.
He raises his glass. "To us."
My hand trembles slightly as I clink my glass against his.
"To us," I repeat.
"Dig in before it gets cold," Ryan instructs.
Relieved to break away from his intense gaze, I pick up my fork and twirl some spaghetti around it before taking a bite.
"Amazing," I say. "Hands down, the best spaghetti I've ever had."
"Brad was worried you were going to end up with spaghetti on toast."
"I'll be sure to sing your praises when I see him tomorrow."
"I'd be relieved if you did. Otherwise, he'll worry."
I laugh.
"He called me, you know," Ryan says tentatively, pausing momentarily before continuing. "After your scene finished tonight."
"Oh?"
My heart rate quickens. Did Brad tell him that Lyndel was back? Does he know she's our new co-star? Did Brad mention anything about our conversation before I left the studio? I reach for my glass and take a large gulp of wine.
"He told me Lyndel is joining the show."
So, he knows then? About our new co-star? I watch him carefully, but he is studying me just as intently.
"Blainesworth brought her down to the set so she could catch up with you and Brad," I say.
I want to know what's going through his mind right now. Unfortunately, he remains annoyingly silent on the matter.
"The three of you used to work together on Wild Horses, right?" I ask.
"We did."
✯Ryan✯
I hoped that once I brought up the topic of Lyndel, Mac would inquire about my relationship with her and we could ease into a conversation that addresses her concerns. I want to put her mind at ease about the matter. So far, however, Mac just looks uncomfortable and keeps reaching for her wine. It seems like I’m going to have to start the ball rolling and hope she starts talking when I open up.
"We slept together," I confess. "Lyndel and I."
Mac nods and takes another sip of her wine. I fight back a surge of frustration. I'm making an effort here. Work with me, Mac.
"I had a feeling," she says. "You two had great chemistry."
"It was only once, and it was a mistake. A big mistake. She’d been pushing for a relationship between us throughout the whole year we worked together."
"But you didn't want one?"
"I didn't," I admit. "As you know, I've never been interested in having a relationship before."
"Why? I mean, why haven't relationships ever interested you before now?"
"Ah, aside from the fact that I've never been in love before, it probably has something to do with some things that happened when I was younger."
I can see that I've piqued her interest, but I'd rather keep this conversation focused on Lyndel. My mother's animosity towards me and my father isn't exactly the topic I prefer to discuss over dinner.
"Perhaps we can save that conversation for another time," I suggest.
"Okay."
There are other logical reasons why I've chosen not to get involved before. However, discussing my views on long-term monogamous relationships is probably not the best approach—especially when I want to convince Mac that I want to be in a relationship with her.
Besides, falling in love has softened some of my cynicism, and I want to believe that happy, long-lasting relationships are not just fairy tales. I hope that doesn't make me a complete fool.
"So, you slept with Lyndel, despite not wanting a relationship with her while she did?" she asks, returning to the topic of Lyndel.
I sigh. "We were no longer shooting on set. Lyndel and I didn't have any more scenes together. She had her flight booked and was supposed to leave the country a couple of days after her farewell party."
"And you decided to sleep with her knowing she'd be leaving soon?"
Mac makes me sound like a jerk who took advantage of someone with feelings for me, but that wasn't the case at all. Mac should know me better than that by now.
"No. The night of her farewell party, I... had a lot to drink. I don't even remember going to bed with her. I don't remember having sex with her. All I recall is waking up next to her the morning after, and her telling me she didn't want to go to America anymore. She wanted to stay here in Australia so we could see if things between us would work out. Then she confessed that she was completely in love with me."
"Whoa," she says. "How did you respond?"
"I told her I wasn't looking for a relationship and that she would resent me if she gave up the opportunity to stay here. I told her I didn't think things would work out between us."
"Was she upset?"
"Very."
"When she came looking for you today, I would never have guessed all this. She seemed excited to see you—genuinely happy to be working with you again."
I squirm in my seat. "The day she left the country, she showed up here. She told me once more that she loved me and then asked if I could ever see a future between us."
"What did you say?"
“I didn’t know what to say. I've never led a woman on, and I wasn't about to start. But I already felt like such a jerk after sleeping with her that I didn't want to be too harsh with her."
"So...?"
"So, I told her I really couldn't envision us being together, at all. But I'd never say never."
"Oh my God," Mac exclaims. "She's come back here to work on Hart's Valley, hoping you've changed your mind and are ready for a relationship with her?"
"I really hope that isn't the case, but I'm worried it might be."
"She's still in love with you."
"She's been gone for years. She can't still be in love with me, Mackenzie."
"But what if she is?"
"I'm not interested. I wasn't then, and I’m certainly not now. Lyndel is a beautiful woman, but there was nothing else about her that appealed to me. Sometimes she was really mean to the other wome we worked with, and I found her a bit shallow. We were never friends—just two people who worked together and were attracted to each other. Besides, there's only one woman I want now," I say, giving her a pointed look.
Mac blushes and turns away. "Now that the two of you are working together again, though, there's always a chance that the chemistry you once had will resurface in the scenes you shoot together."
"To be honest, I don't think there's any chance of that happening. Not on my part."
"How can you be so certain?" she asks. "I mean, you haven't seen her in years, and you haven't worked together in just as long. I don't understand how you can be so—"
"Mac," I say patiently, "we've always been friends, you and I. Do you really think I would do something that I know would hurt you like that?"
"Not intentionally, no."
"Brad and Jazz would kill me."
"They wouldn't be happy, I know, but... chemistry is chemistry. It's hard to deny those things."
❤️Mac❤️
Deciding that gut-wrenching honesty is the only option here, I plow on.
"I don't want to watch you kissing somebody else," I say. "I don't want to see a spark between you and Lyndel or watch the chemistry you used to have with her come between us. It would be really difficult for me to deal with, and I'd constantly be wondering when you were going to act on it."
"Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me to see you with Westlaker?" Ryan looks me in the eye. "Mac, knowing you used to be with him and thinking something might start between the two of you again has been an ongoing torturous nightmare for me. And watching you kiss him today..."
He doesn't have to go on. I know how hard it is to watch the one you love kiss someone else. Too hard. I haven't paid much attention to how Ryan might have felt about me kissing Danny, but that's only because I hadn't known how he felt. Even now, I am still coming to terms with it, trying to wrap my head around the fact that Ryan Moore is apparently in love with me.
"Plus," he continues teasingly, "you seem to have a thing for your leading men. I might be worried that you'll fall in love with the next man you're involved with on set."
It's ludicrous. I've fallen in love with Ryan for reasons that are different from the ones with Danny. I know Ryan isn't actually worried. He's obviously trying to make a point about the absurdity of my fears. I get it. Fears are irrational. I am being insecure, and I don't like that about myself.
"I don't see that happening," I protest.
"But it might. I could say, 'why wouldn't it?' You fell for Danny. You fell for me."
"Those were two completely different scenarios."
"How were they different?"
"With Danny, I was caught up, swept away. I was unable to separate what I felt on stage from reality."
"And that isn't the case with us?"
"No, it's not."
It most definitely isn't. This whole time, I've been beating myself up for making the same mistakes I made on Junction Hospital. While I technically have fallen for my leading man twice in a row now, the circumstances are different. Really, I started falling for Ryan long before we started kissing on set.
Our friendship and attraction have been building into something from the first moment I met him. I cared about him, respected him, and liked him from the start. The attraction I feel towards him as a woman, combined with the fantasies I built around him as a teenager, has been too difficult to ignore. If I had met him through a friend or any other avenue, my response would have been the same. My feelings for him aren't just an on-set thing. What I feel for Ryan is much, much bigger.
Which only means there is so much more potential to be hurt here.
"Did I ever mention that I used to have a poster of you up on my wall when I was fifteen?" I blurt out before I can think better of it.
Ryan shakes his head as a slow, cocky grin spreads across his lips. I am blushing furiously now, a reaction that has nothing to do with the wine.
"Why? Are you saying we're acting out some fantasy you concocted as a fifteen-year-old?"
I didn’t think it's possible to turn even redder, but I do. I sound like some kind of infatuated fangirl. Why did I even mention it? Astonishingly, he doesn't look like he wants to push me out the door. He just can't seem to keep the smirk off his face.
"When I found out I'd be working with you on Hart's Valley, I was nervous and a little excited, but also wary. I didn't want to risk my career after everything that had just happened with Danny, and I knew I couldn't afford to revisit the days of my... crush. But I was attracted to you from the beginning. And when we got to know each other and started hanging out as friends, I came to care about you. A lot. And then the attraction and everything else just... overwhelmed me. My point is, it was nothing like the slight adoration and stage chemistry I had with Danny."
"I see," Ryan says.
I've just poured my heart out and embarrassed myself talking about my silly teenage crush, and that's all he's going to say?
"Are you finished?" he asks, motioning to my abandoned pasta bowl.
"I guess."
"Good," he stands up and offers a hand to me.
"What about..." I trail off as I see the intense desire burning in his eyes.
We need to keep talking, don't we? We shouldn't be doing this until we've sorted everything out. I still have no idea how we're supposed to carry on a relationship when my boss is against it, and I could lose my job.
"Forget the pasta, forget the dishes. Forget everything," Ryan says as he pulls me up from my sitting position and pulls me close against his chest.
The breath leaves my lungs as his eyes search mine for a moment. Finding whatever answer he's looking for, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me.
You're supposed to be talking. You really need to talk this through. There's so much danger, so much potential heartache. How on Earth can this possibly work? You need to figure that out before you go any further.
I open my mouth to tell him so, but then his hands go to my hips and he is lifting me up. I wrap my legs around him, just like I had when I kissed him earlier in the day. I make a noise so needy and pleading that he deepens the kiss until I am shaking with need and supremely grateful for the fact that he is holding me.
Who am I kidding? I am never going to be able to think anything through until I slake the fire he’s started inside me.
✯Ryan✯
I knew from the moment I opened the door to see Mac standing there in her little black dress that it was going to be a hard task resisting her. I made it through most of dinner, and that was to be commended, because it took a herculean effort not to think about her like this – with her long, perfect legs wrapped around my hips, her body awaiting mine.
Seeing her blush and act all embarrassed over the fact that she had a poster of me on her wall at fifteen is about the cutest, hottest thing I’ve seen in my life. And now she is in my arms and there is no way I am letting her go.
I don’t know how we are going to work out this thing between us. I don’t know how we will deal with Blainesworth or her insecurities about Lyndel, or anything else for that matter, but right now I can’t stop myself from believing that everything is going to work out anyway.
Mac loves me. She is in love with me, and I am in love with her, too. The attraction and friendship between us have turned into something so much more for her. And I understand that feeling all too well, because it is the same for me. It overwhelms me, too.
“I know we still have things to talk about,” I say. “But will you spend the night with me, Mackenzie?”
“Yes,” she says.
Her answer is music to his ears and fills my heart with hope. It is all going to work out. It has to.