Nic Tatano - Jillian Spectre and the Dream Weaver

"Remember the guy who pulled me out of the street the other day? It was him. He's really a nice guy—"

His eyes narrow into a glare.

"Sorry."

"Are you attracted to him?"

"I'm in love with you ."

"You didn't answer the question."

"I believe I just did, Ryan." I squeeze his hand.

He goes back to staring at the poster, and I wonder if he now thinks of me as the Wicked Witch of the West. I know it's gonna be a while before he can get the image of me and Trip that's burned into his brain out of his head.

Problem is, it’s burned into my brain too.

Mom is already reading the New York tabloids with her morning coffee as I trudge down the stairs. She looks into my bloodshot, puffy eyes and her face tells me she instantly knows something is very wrong. "Jillian, what happened?"

I move across the kitchen, pour a cup of coffee and sit down across from her. "I think the dream weaver got me last night, Mom."

She sits up straight. "What?"

"It's a long story, and it wasn't my fault…but I sorta cheated on Ryan."

Her eyes widen as I tell her the story, from meeting Trip Logan to him saving my life to the dance. And the fact that Ms. Cruise was in the building and obviously got into my head.

"So this Trip fellow…that was the guy who pulled you out of the traffic the other day?"

I nod.

"And you were absolutely sure you were dreaming?"

"I was convinced, Mom. I saw things that couldn't possibly be real. I never would have cheated on Ryan. But when I ran into Trip, I couldn't even remember that I had a boyfriend. I told him I was unattached."

"Hmmm. The dream weaver has obviously gotten into your subconscious. Are you attracted to this guy?"

"He's beyond good looking, Mom, but I love Ryan."

"Not what I asked, Missy. Do you find him attractive?"

"Well, yeah. Sure. I think you'd be hard pressed to find a woman who didn't think he was attractive. Physically he's off the charts, and he's nice, too. I have to admit I was flattered that he asked for my phone number when we first met because guys like that can hook up with supermodels."

"She obviously tapped into that and used him to tempt you. I think Sebastien was right, they're trying to come between the four of you."

"Makes sense." I stare into my coffee cup. "Mom, there's something else."

"What?"

"Well, I don't know how to put this…but when I was kissing Trip in the dream, or what I thought was a dream, well, I felt something. A real connection that I don't feel with Ryan."

"You weren't yourself, sweetie. Hey, if I had a dream and ran into Bradley Cooper I'd rip his clothes off."

"You got a thing for Bradley Cooper?"

"I'm middle-aged, honey, I'm not dead. Anyway, you're being manipulated."

"God, I hope that's it."

She reaches across the table and takes my hands. "Let me tell you something about love. It's not about finding someone you can live with, but finding someone you can't live without."

Once again, parents can sometimes simplify things. It makes perfect sense.

"Could you live without Ryan?"

"No way, Mom."

I decide to do a little damage control and stop by Ryan's dorm room with a small peace offering. Even though Mom says I've done nothing wrong and it wasn't my fault, I know I've hurt him. The kind of hurt that doesn't go away quickly, and I know how fragile a guy's ego can be, even a self-confident guy like Ryan. I've got a box of red velvet cupcakes, his favorite, from Roxanne's family bakery. Just as I'm about to knock on the door he comes up behind me, dripping with sweat, carrying a gym bag.

"Hey, Sparks, good timing."

He didn't call me Jillian. Maybe he's not mad anymore.

I lean forward and give him a quick kiss. "Brought you a present." I hand him the box and he smiles as he sees it's from the bakery.

"Thanks. You didn't have to do this. I'm okay."

"I don't need a reason to do nice things for the man I love. So, you and Jake been playing racquetball?"

"We're playing later today. I joined the campus health club. It's free to students and you get a personal trainer for your first visit."

I scrunch up my face. "Isn't racquetball enough exercise for one day? Since when are you a gym rat?"

He opens the door to the room, holds it for me and I walk inside. "Racquetball is a great workout, but I wanna get strong. I started lifting weights. Trainer says I could add ten pounds of muscle since I'm only one-seventy. I started boxing classes as well."

Oh, crap. I know what this is about. When it comes to men everything boils down to that "size matters" bullshit. He saw me with a guy who's a lot taller and bigger than him and built like a comic book superhero. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with what happened the other night."

"I just thought it was time to tone up. You know. Get buffed. For you."

"Uh-huh." He moves inside and I close the door behind him. He puts his gym bag away, grabs a towel, and wipes his face. "Ryan, look at me."

He turns to face me. "What?"

I move forward and take his arms. "You don't have to change a thing for me. You're perfect the way you are."

"You're only saying that because you love me."

I shake my head and exhale in frustration. "Does the stupidity of what you just said even register in that head of yours?"

"What? It's true. You don't want to hurt my feelings because you love me."

I look to the side and do my anchorwoman voice. "Let's recap that last idiotic statement for those of you who just tuned in." I turn back to him and tap him on the head with a knuckle. "Hello! McFly! What were those last three words you said? Huh?"

"You love me."

"Now, would you like to go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change? Maybe if you focus on those three words you'll realize I say things to you because they're true. Because I love you. So yes, you're perfect for me. I thought of you that way before we started dating. You're a six-foot hunk without an ounce of fat, and I oughta know because I've conducted a thorough search. You don't have to get all musclebound because I'm already yours and you have a hammerlock on my heart that no one is going to break."

"I wanna be strong for you. Be able to protect you."

Damn. Guys just don't get it.

I snake my arms around his neck and give him a soulful look. "Ryan, there's more to being strong than just physical strength, which, I might add, you already have. You've been my emotional rock since I've known you. I never had a father and you always protected me and took care of me, even when we were little. I've always been able to lean on you. And, in case you've forgotten, you almost gave your life to save me a few months ago. Which was the second time you nearly died for me. I couldn't find a stronger guy than you if I tried."

He grows a hangdog look and his face drops.

"This is about what happened at the dance, isn't it?" I ask.

He nods, still looking at the floor. "I was, you know, feeling a little…inadequate."

I take his chin and lift it so he's facing me. "Stop it. Stop it right now, young man. There's nothing inadequate about you. Any girl would be thrilled to have you and I'm incredibly lucky to be that girl."

"I just…felt like such a shrimp next to him."

I roll my eyes. "Obviously you're not getting my point. You talk to Jake a lot, right?"

"Yeah."

"And in case you hadn't noticed, he's got an amazon girlfriend who towers over him and yet is madly in love with him. She doesn't think he's a shrimp. Hell, she wears four inch heels around him. She's proud to be seen with him."

"Yeah. I guess."

"You guess? For God's sake, Ryan, I love you! Do I have to have sex with you to prove it?"