 
CUT

#### A novel by Kathleen Mareé

Penelope Price is a young woman who is utterly scarred and broken. She has been Cut. Residing with her best friend Rosalie since the sudden demise of her long term relationship, she finds herself severed from the world she once lived for. After months of Rosie suffering through failed attempts of trying to drag Penny back into some form of reality, finally, it happens.

A nightclub in Sydney leads to a strange encounter with Jay, a musician who at first meeting seems dangerous, but for unknown reasons there is an unconscious draw. When her inner turmoil dramatically ruins the night, it appears she may be worse off than where she started.

Will her wound ever heal?

Uninvited interest from the mysterious stranger messes further with Penny's emotional state, resulting in more confusion than comfort. He seems to be hiding behind his own secretive walls and she isn't sure she can trust him. The sudden return of her ex, Evan, who is persistent to fill in the reasons for their demise, exposes the shocking truth. Ultimately sending her into the lowest point of her existence.

Does she find her definitive end in the dramatic final scene of this story?

Has she been Cut?

Copyright © Kathleen Mareé 2014

ISBN-13:978-1512047387 ISBN-10:1512047384

ISBN - 9781311212122

License Notes

No reproduction without permission. All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional. The author humbly begs your pardon. This is fiction, people.

#  Dedication

Thank you to my husband and two beautiful children who were patient whilst I was spending my time locked away in my story. Your love and support mean everything to me and I would not have come this far without you.

Also a huge thank you to my family and friends, who have urged me to write. Not because I have to, but because you all know how much I love to, and for making me realise that that is the only thing that matters...

Finally, to my early previewing team, a.k.a HBC :) Your enthusiasm, constructive advice and encouragement has given me the confidence to start this journey and for that I thank you x
"I'm not a stranger.  
No I am yours.  
With crippled anger.  
And tears that still drip sore.

A fragile frame aged, with misery.  
And when our eyes meet, I know you see.

I do not want to be afraid.  
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in.  
I'm tired of feeling so numb.  
Relief exists I find it when....  
I am cut."

'Cut' – Song and lyrics by Plumb

# Chapter One

"Penny please tell me you are out of your bed and ready to go."

I roll my eyes at the remark.

She is seriously worse than my own mother.

"Okay, I'm coming," I moan under my breath and with effort, kick the heavy doona off my lethargic legs.

Why today?

I honestly can't be bothered to do anything but sleep. I am so tired.

Why am I so tired?

I'm still not ready to face the harsh reality of it all.

Well, not today anyway.

Maybe tomorrow.

That sounds like a better idea.

I bury my head deep into my pillow until it suffocates me wholly.

"Oh. My. God. Penny!"

I hear Rosie's stern tone muffled through the pillow barrier harnessed around my ears and the annoyance in her voice is obvious. Her tanned athletic body is standing strong in the doorway to my room, her hands distinctly firm on her hips and her hazel eyes burning into mine.

Great.

"What?" I groan innocently. "I'm getting up."

As I push the rest of my weighty cover off me so I'm out in the unpleasant open, with much effort I struggle to sit up. I extend my hands down to my ankles and adjust my socks, which have shuffled uncomfortably during my restless sleep. I knowingly maintain my head fixed to the floor to avoid contact with her, so I don't have to deal with her pity right now. I can hear her over-the-top sigh as she travels towards me picking up stray, sordid clothing off the floor like she does every time she comes in here.

"Penny, we have been through this a thousand times," she mutters.

"I know..." I mumble, still keeping my focus on my woollen hand knitted socks. The warmest ones you could ever wear. _His_ Nan had knitted them for me one winter. She was the sweetest Nan too. So kind, thoughtful, and always made me feel like I was one of her own. I used to look forward to the small gift waiting for me each year in the mail, delicately wrapped in tissue paper. Every year was a new colour; aqua, grey, mocha, and this year's crimson pink – my favourite. I feel a tear rise to the corner of my eye as my fingers fumble on the edges of those socks, pulling them up in place just above my ankles.

"Penny, we go through this every day," she starts more empathetically as plonks herself down on my bed, while nervously readjusting the unkempt pile in her hands. "If you don't get up today we will be going through this all again tomorrow and the next day and the next," she sighs. "It's been three months Pen."

I hold my breath.

Three months?

Had that much time really passed?

I rub my oily unwashed forehead in my hands nauseated by how much time I had wasted in my state of misery. I am ashamed that I can't seem to bring myself out of my funk so I can move forward, move on and finally become me again.

Me?

Do I even know who I am anymore?

"Maybe this is all too much for me to help you with."

Her affirmed words interrupt my thoughts as I hesitantly glance up from the floor trying to make out her emotions before I object with my routine rebuttal, which usually starts right about now.

"Maybe I can arrange a psychiatrist to talk to you? You know, maybe the one that Maggie was seeing?"

Maggie?

I sigh regretfully.

Maggie is one of my best friends, one of the few friends I still had. She lives with her fiancée Ryan on the south coast, so we don't see each other all that often. Especially now. It's probably a good thing too since everything has happened. Ryan is best friends with _him_ and I can't risk that connection. Not right now anyway. I can't even remember the last time I spoke to her. She had tried to reach out over the past few months, but I haven't been talking to anyone so Rosie usually dealt with the calls. Guilt sullenly rises into my throat forming in the shapes of vomit. I shake my head to rid the images in my mind and nervously look up at Rosie, swallowing the awful taste away all at once.

I can tell from her expression that the bother and frustration has vanished yet has been replaced with an anxious desperation. My heart instantly aches. It's a familiar feeling. After that episode changed my seemingly perfect life and sent it into a whirl of uncertainty, these past months my heart has held a more constant severe ache that has left me permanently scarred. A scar that I don't think can ever be truly healed. And through that pain that has its tightened grip over my heart a faint throb still echoes through; as I see my friend's constant attempts to get me out of my standstill state, faintly fade into the distance. I take a deep breath and gather as much strength as I can.

I have to do this.

I just have to!

"I'm getting up," I un-heartedly chirp as I unsteadily rise out of my bed after spending, what feels like an eternity of not being on my feet.

Do I even remember how to walk right?

"You're right."

I mean, there is NO WAY I am going to see some shrink!

I need to make her believe me.

I shrug my flannel pyjama top off and let it fall carelessly to the floor. She stares at me intently, her bulging fly like eyes searching mine. Searching for confirmation on whether this is really happening. Searching for whether today is any different to our other ninety or so re-enactments, where I bury my head into my pillow and sleep away the days, weeks and months as it would seem. I look right back at her and allow the corners of my mouth to turn upward so that a small smile touches the corner of my lips.

Ouch, that hurts.

"Are you sure? I just think if you need to talk to someone. I don't know, more professional."

She stops as if she wants me to fill in the rest. But the truth is I don't want to keep talking about it. It happened. I've wasted all of this time going over what happened, re-thinking and analysing every minor detail about that day. The how and the whys? I'm over having to wake up every single day and relive the whole event. To think about those unanswered questions and everything I lost.

Ugh.

Double Ugh.

Now I want to sink back into my bed and back to my depressive solitude. The same ritual that has struck me the past few months and has kept me hidden away in my room, like I was some fairy tale princess locked away in a tower under some evil spell. Well I am obviously no fairy princess, and this is definitely no fairy tale. This is reality. My reality. And I don't want this to be how I spend the rest of my life. I don't want to be this woman.

I don't!

I need to keep on going. There is no way I want my friend to abandon me and send me to some psycho doctor so I can rehash all the things I've grieved over these past few months. I have no other option but to convince her. I have to.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Can I really do this?

I stumble over to my closet as I struggle to get the feeling into my numb limbs and swing open the door. Without really looking, I fumble through my blouses which hang in colour co-ordination inside – courtesy of Rosie of course. I roll my eyes.

"What's the dress code for this place?" I ask with as much faked interested as I can; my fingers stifling through each item not paying attention to their detail.

"Are you sure you are ready to do this? I mean, if you aren't ready, maybe we can try again tomorrow?"

There's a real sincerity to her voice now, almost guilty.

So she should feel guilty, my conscious quips.

"Yes I'm sure," I retort automatically. "What about this?"

I hastily pull out a white cropped blouse, which is slightly transparent and framed with cut-outs along the back of the shoulders. It's my favourite shirt. Correction, w _as_ my favourite shirt. My preferred articles of clothing lately seem to be flannel pyjamas and my hand-knitted woollen socks.

Gah.

I get a disgusted shiver just thinking about what a mess I've become.

I turn towards her but keep my eyes firmly fixed on my shirt that I'm holding out on display, nervously awaiting her response. There is a suspended silence before I barely hear a whisper. "I always liked you in that shirt."

I glance up to look for her reaction and she smiles. Mission accomplished.

"Okay, so finish getting ready and I will meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes."

She picks up my pyjama shirt I carelessly discarded on the floor and adds it to the pile of unwashed items she still holds in her hands. On her way out she halts in the doorway and turns her empathetic gaze toward mine.

"You will see Pen, everything will be okay. Tonight will be great! Just what you need."

And just like that, she disappears behind the door.

Was she trying to convince me that everything will be alright, or herself?

I instantly regret my sudden desire to re-enter the real world.

I want this over with.

I toss the blouse I had previously displayed with pride on my unmade bed disrespectfully and head towards the en-suite, swallowing away the nausea. As the half dozen or so down lights instantly fill the bathroom, I am staring into a startling reflection. The large beautifully embossed mirror that hangs so delicately on the opposite wall is filled with the image of a girl. A young woman. Her ash blonde hair that is pin-straight and fine is almost stuck like glue to the woman's head. Her pale, ghost like skin no longer has a radiant glow, but is deadly white and lifeless. The eyes...

The piercing blue, crystal eyes that had received many compliments over the years from friends, family, and even strangers on how beautiful they were just look hollow and vacant. The dark grey circles framing their place on the woman's face with haunting precision.

Is this really me?

Is this what I have become?

The once well-groomed girl who took care of her appearance is not what is staring back at me in the mirror. I slowly slide my feet along the stony floor, until the horrifying image in the mirror is even closer. I lean myself over the porcelain sink and trace my weak fingers around the darkened circles bordering my eyes. Tears begin to well, and I notice my hands trembling uncontrollably.

Pull it together Penny.

I close my eyes, and take a few deep breaths.

I can do this.

I need to do this.

I turn both taps on precariously and splash the now tepid water all over my face. The mere thought of my personal hygiene of late, makes me cringe in disgust. Yanking off the taps, I gently pat my face with the nearby black towel hanging on the rack beside me. A thought silently creeps into my head, about how the beauty of the perfectly designed black and white elegantly themed en-suite starkly contrasts my dreary black eyes and deadly stark skin. An unorthodox, silent chuckle wafts from my insides at the thought. I must be crazy.

I loosely twist my long hair up into a carefree bun and tie it into place. Reaching for my makeup bag, I pull out my powder foundation, some blush and black mascara and roughly try to make myself look remotely normal – failing most likely.

"Are you ready?"

I hear Rosie's bear call from downstairs and without further thought, I roll my eyes. I automatically toss the makeup on the bench and head for my shirt that I had tossed on the bed earlier. I carefully lift it over my head, trying not to smudge my less than perfect attempt at my makeup, drop my pants to the floor and grab a pair of dark blue skinny jeans out from under the bed. I can't help but gloat slightly as the thought that Rosie missed my well-worn jeans from under the bed when she was raiding my floor for dirty washing is kind of gratifying. I smile inside at the small win.

"Penny?" I hear her bellow again.

I zip my pants up, grab a pair of black ankle stilettos off the floor and slam the door behind me before I contemplate hiding myself under the doona.

What a rush.

I can feel the blood filling my head as my body reacts to being so stationery for so long. I take off down the hallway in a zombie-like manner, and stumble down the stairs holding one hand on the timber balustrade and the other tightly grasping my heels.

"Wow, you look great!" she states precariously, as I hear the excitement in her voice tremble slightly.

I mean the day has come.

The day has finally arrived when I would get my sorry ass out of bed and into the real world again.

The thought is quite terrifying, almost crippling. I shake my head to avoid any chance of tears running down my face and screaming at the top of my lungs that I can't do this. Grabbing my wallet off the glass foyer table at the bottom of the stairs, and stashing it under my arm I force a smile in reply. I bend to squeeze my toes into my shoes.

Geez, have my feet gotten fat?

I barely get the zips done up on my shoes and the pain in my toes is almost unbearable. I toss aside any thoughts of doubt just in case my mind is playing tricks on me. Rosie moves away from the front door, signalling for me to exit first and as I am faced with it staring back at me, I am frozen. In an instant, I am right back there...

I can still hear her screaming at him. For him to leave me alone, to go away and to never return. I remember my body willingly leading me to face him at this door, despite my head pleading me to stay away. That he didn't deserve to speak to me or see me again. But I couldn't help it. My body was entranced, drawn to him like a magnet and unconsciously I found myself drifting toward him as if my mind had no control over my body. As I halted in the entryway I vaguely remember Rosie saying something, either to me or to him; before unwillingly walking away and leaving me alone, face to face with this man who had literally broken my heart. The rest was like an out of body experience. I stood there in reality, but I didn't have any emotions at all. There was no sound, no light, nothing. I was only capable of staring blankly at him, unable to construct any rational thought into a sentence. His expression was unreadable. His tan, olive skin and sizeable dark brown eyes, aesthetically look the way I remember. His shaggy brunette hair falling effortlessly over the frame of his face and resting just below his ears. The stubble on his face still kept that way, the way I used to like it. The way I _still_ like it. After the weeks of lows I had suffered through I was utterly exhausted, but he wasn't giving so much away. I could feel the tears well in my eyes as I searched pathetically into his soul trying to get some kind of worthy response. Anything. As we stood there in what felt like our own time-zone, in complete silence, after some time his mouth slowly parted and mouthed the words 'I'm sorry.'

That's the last time I saw him.

# Chapter Two

"The taxi's waiting Penny."

I shake my head trying to disperse the memories and again, to stop the flood of tears that linger just below the surface. I peek at Rosie. Her eager face is the happiest I've seen her look at me in a while. I flinch at the prospect of disappointing her again. Not after she so willingly took me into her home and has basically looked after me these past few months. From the first day of kindergarten when I thought the cold pasta she brought in for lunch was weird and she thought my vegemite sandwich was gross, we have been inseparable ever since. Despite being incredibly lucky to have her in my life, I didn't deserve it. I haven't been a very good friend to her especially since I can only imagine what she has been going through. She has had problems to deal with too and I have been so selfish drowning in my own that I hadn't even attempted to care. I force another smile across my face, and reach for the handle. As soon as I open it I am struck by how dark it is outside.

What time is it?

I had no idea about what time it was or how much time had passed. I can't even remember the last time I had come outside these doors. Sealing my eyelids, I inhale deeply allowing the nippy spring air entirely inside my lungs and I instantly feel more blood charge to the surface. I notice the bright yellow taxi parked in the kerb and automatically make my way un-steadily toward it ignoring the stabbing pain in my toes with each and every step.

Keep going Pen.

You can do this.

I shuffle into the seat against the far window and immediately wind it down, still taking long painful breaths. I hear the door close behind me.

"To The Loft, on the corner of Stanley and O'Rierdon please."

I ogle at my friend in a daze as she fastens her seatbelt around her hips and tentatively turns to face me. I wait for her to speak, but nothing comes out of her mouth. I decide to cut the stale air to avoid my incoherent thoughts invading our uncomfortable ride.

"The Loft?"

"Yeah. I thought we could check it out. It's been raved about online and they always have well known bands play there. It's a mega celebrity hang out too, which is always exciting..." she trails as she adjusts her gold bracelet on her left arm nervously before continuing. "It should be fun. My brother is coming so he will be able to get us a good table."

"Is anyone else coming too?" I blurt out quite bluntly, suddenly aware that it will be more than Rosie in my presence this evening.

"Some friends of mine from work might meet us in there. But I didn't think it would be a late night so I'm not sure they will bother."

As soon as the words come out of her mouth she bites her lip, the obvious regret washing over her face.

What does she mean they won't bother?

Why is she taking me out if I am too much of an inconvenience?

Please, I just want to go home.

I begin to feel a buzzing on the vinyl seat beside me and a faint melody to a song, 'Apologise,' by One Republic. It's the ringtone to a phone, the too familiar sound of Rosie's.

Her phone always rings.

She has so many friends it's almost ridiculous. Between her brothers finance friends and her work colleagues, how she finds the time to juggle them all is beyond me.

Although, she doesn't spend her days in her room unlike someone else.

Rosie chattering away on her phone and my jealous thoughts are what remain of our journey to The Loft, which is only about twenty minutes away from her Annandale terrace. Before I even realise, we are pulled up outside the venue on a busy street in Sydney and she slips out onto the kerb. I slide my bum unwillingly along the backseat and begrudgingly follow her lead.

"Don't worry, tonight's on me," she smiles excitedly.

I roll my eyes.

I will need to get drunk to get through this.

She links her arms around mine, the way we used to, and we stride together almost in unison toward the front of the line. The queue outside isn't down the street or anything, but I instantly feel guilty for pushing to the front. It's obvious her brother has pulled some strings for her again, as we aren't special enough to receive front of the door treatment. Rosie is just a school teacher, and I am... well I am....

What am I?

Since the life changing event I haven't been able to work. I left my job in accounting, a sporting organisation that _he_ had also worked for. He was a born athlete. Football was everything to him, and as his elite career started to wind down it was only natural that he would stay in sport. Although he still enjoyed his footy on the weekends, PR was where he ended up; and since we wanted to spend every waking moment together, as soon as an accounting role was available I took it. My work was so entwined in _his_ life, that I just needed an escape. Rosie was instrumental on getting me to rid my life of everything that had to do with him. She felt that to move on completely, it was the only way so I could avoid any risk of running into him. The very thought of what I have lost in myself since it all broke down leaves a bitter and sickening taste in my mouth.

"Rosalie Pravadi," she oozes with such stance as the burly bouncer scans his eyes over his door-list, before giving her a quick nod. She claps her hands like an excited child and leads me inside the elaborate tinted glass doors. Her brother is a big player in the finance world here in Sydney. He has friends in high places which explains how she gets in to all the right places and usually at the right times. The amount of occasions she has gone to some flashy party where you would normally have to be at least _someone_ to even get through the door, always astounded me.

As we make our way through the main, dim-lighted corridor we are greeted by an expansive open room that boasts two exposed floors. It's very moody. Different shades of chocolate and charcoal timbers, with several exposed upright beams stretching from floor to ceiling make up the space. The bar tops and low circular tables are steel with black and red leather lounge style couches. My former self loves this style of venue, you know, the modern industrial types you see in renovating magazines everywhere. You can see the upstairs area from the main foyer where patrons are slouched over the wire railing, ogling the new additions below. It makes you feel like you are in a meat market being inspected as a rare and tender delicacy. I shudder at the mere thought of anyone thinking of me as any kind of delectable food group at the moment.

"Let's do drinks," she orders as we wander arm linked toward the main bar ahead.

Finally!

We are forced to stop about three persons back from the bar and my sudden drinking excitement has to be put on hold as we wait. I screw my face up impatiently.

"Do you know where the bathroom is?" I turn my head from side to side searching for a quick escape through the masses of people, in this instance, in the forms of a restroom.

She points to the right seemingly ignoring my discomfort. I glance back at her and acknowledge the directions, whilst making a start toward the rest room. As I graze through the guests, my eyes kept firmly on the worn timber floorboards; I apologise for each and every bump along the way until I eventually find the narrow door. When I open it and step inside, I am surprised by how quiet it is in here. It oozes tranquillity and for one second I forget that I am in one of the hottest night spots in town. I gaze at the woman staring back at me. I can see the same ghostly figure of a woman who is masked by the small attempts of looking normal for the evening. I focus on my eyes in the reflection, but only for a second, as any longer and I would find myself back in my self-misery of tears yet again. I'm starting to feel beyond pathetic. I definitely don't want to be this girl. I just don't even know how to even act anymore.

Will I ever?

I wash my hands carelessly in the water, dry them and take an exaggerated breath before heading back out into the crowd. To my surprise, Rosie is waiting for me.

"Hey here's your drink, I wasn't sure what you wanted so I ordered your fave. You were in there forever. Is there heaps of people in there?" she asks me speedily, whilst passing me my drink.

Vodka and Raspberry Grenadine, definitely my old time favourite. The best part is that they go down as easy as soft drink, which is a nice relief since I was never a big drinker. I know if I keep with these it won't take me long before I'm relishing the numbing effects to help get me through the evening.

I shrug.

Was there anyone else in the restroom?

"Was I really in there that long?" I ask curiously to myself.

It felt like two seconds.

Shutting my eyes, I take a significant long swig of my drink and swallow the entire glass in one go.

Ah.

Next one?

I find a simple timber shelf behind me, placing my empty glass on it and turn to face Rosie, who hasn't even started her drink yet. She doesn't look very impressed.

"Maybe I should have ordered you two," she bites. "Can you hold this? I'm going to the ladies." She passes me her drink and makes a start for the door behind me. "You sure you will be alright?" she asks tentatively over her shoulder.

I roll my eyes automatically.

"Yes, I will be fine!" I press a little too coldly.

As she heads into the restroom I shake off my guilt and head to the bar, unknowingly knocking back her drink too.

Yuk scotch!

For some reason she loves her scotch on the rocks, but I cannot stand it. As soon as I down the drink, I convulse with the sheer vulgar taste it leaves on my tongue. As I look up, I find myself at least three rows back from the bar.

I'm right back where I started.

I scan over the people around me not really making eye contact so as not to start up unwanted conversation. I feel my fingers fidgeting anxiously against my hollow stomach, as I awkwardly wait at the bar... _alone_. Nervously and eagerly waiting for my friend to come and take her place back at my side - my security blanket. As my head tosses from side to side my vision is blocked by a man who steps directly in my view.

"Excuse me miss, can I buy you a drink?"

A tall, sturdy man in a grey business suit with a black buzz cut smiles at me seedily.

"No thank you," I mumble through clenched teeth, as I turn away.

Come on Rose.

Where are you?

"Please, just one drink?" he urges signalling his pointer finger in the air. At that moment, I'm drawn to his pale grey suit.

Why is wearing a business suit so late in the evening?

Has he come from work?

What day is this....?

Useless thoughts fill my head as I'm not really in the mental state to deal with new conversation, especially since I've just downed two drinks in the space of two minutes without so much as food for days. I shake my head at the stranger signalling my answer, still forcing a grin through my tense jaw. I turn to look over my shoulder again, for Rosie with further anxiety.

"Look there are still two people in front of us," the man continues as he reaches for my arm. "Please I insist to let me buy you a drink. Just one drink for the pretty lady."

Ugh!

I shrug my arm from out of his grasp and feel the chunks start to rise from my throat. I cannot handle talking to this guy, to any one right now. This is all too much, too fast, too soon. The fear starts to work its way up through the very core of my soul and has an instant effect on my body. My fingers are more nervously fidgeting, my head tossing frantically from side to side and my breathing is sharper. It's not that I even know this guy, but I just can't do it. Not now.

Will I ever?

"Th-thank you, I really appreciate the offer but I have to politely decline."

I don't even recognise the sound coming out of my mouth.

It is me?

Am I being stupid?

It's just one drink!

What's my problem?

What is wrong with me?

Rosie where are you?

"There you are!"

An unknown cool voice with an accent echoes from behind me and immediately cuts off my panicked thoughts. I turn away from the mystery guy in a suit to... yet another mystery guy, but not in a suit. He is wearing tight indigo wash jeans, a loose grey V-neck tee and a navy blue denim jacket with one button done up in the middle of his chest. This guy is dangerous. You know that every girl would want to get into bed with a guy like this. He just oozes sex appeal like he bathes in it every day. The immediate air around him is filled with a sense of risk, intensity and I immediately find it hard to breathe. Aesthetically, he is lean and toned, only a little taller than me in height and his skin is flawless, fair and looks as though it would be as soft as silk and as cold as ice to touch. His perfectly messy hair somehow stands full yet tall, and is the deepest shade of brown you would have ever seen; but within that split second I'm drawn to his eyes. His exquisite blue eyes that penetrate mine so powerfully, they literally strike right through me. The intensity beneath them make me look away in fear, for I am far too fragile to handle such an emotion.

"Have you been waiting long?" he continues. His voice is deep, smooth and slides through the air with such precision. I stare at his face completely numb, making effort not to look directly into those sky blue blades.

"Umm... what?"

As the air changes around me, it shakes me from my standstill state. I notice mystery danger guy glancing over my shoulder in mystery suit guy's direction, shooting him an un-nerving look. A look that is so hard-hearted and callous that I can't help but turn to view the other man for his response. He gulps in receipt of the icy glare before raising his hand up in front of his chest signalling some kind of defeat.

"Sorry miss, I didn't realise you were here with someone. My apologies."

He turns away from me immediately and scatters off until he is lost amongst other bodies. I stare at his empty spot for a moment, trying to collect some kind of a rational thought or explanation.

Am I going insane?

Do I even know this mystery danger guy?

I take a short sharp breath, trying to gain some kind of composure before preparing to face him. My eyes glazed over in a puzzled daze, he sighs before seemingly responding to my confused expression.

"I could hear him badgering you about a drink and you were politely trying to tell him to fuck off."

The cold sound of his voice makes me squirm uneasily.

"I couldn't help but to intervene."

The air is so dense now that just breathing in oxygen is a trying task. I continue staring at his face, not speaking, as my brain has lost its connection temporarily to my mouth. His face is rather poetic.

Three other guys dressed in a similar way come to stand behind him unlocking my stare. Their sudden presence makes me blush for some reason and I fold my arms across my body defensively as a result. The mystery guy doesn't seem to pay too much attention to their arrival.

"Th- th- that's okay..." I stutter. "Th-thank you."

Where's Rosie?

"And you are?" I blurt out despite feeling completely uncomfortable.

I don't even want to continue this conversation.

He looks over me again and his expression looks a little surprised, bewildered even. He pauses for a moment eyeing me questionably before the tiniest smirk crosses his delicate lips.

"Jay," he oozes in his sexy, and I think American accent.

With my thoughts buzzing chaotically, I am instantly knocked over by a patron lining up beside me. The sheer size of him propels me right into Jay, this presumably American stranger who has already been my rescuer this evening. As soon as my hands grasp at his biceps, I can't help but feel an electric shock radiate throughout my body. His very touch underneath my hands tears through me from the very tip of my fingers to its very core. A shiver runs over me and doesn't stop until I regain my balance and release my grip. I tug a little at my blouse trying to gain my composure, both at the sudden knock and the now flushing of my cheeks from the sensation his touch had washed over me.

"I, ah, I'm sorry about that," I mumble as I try to conceal my heated cheeks.

He doesn't respond. He only stares through me with those insanely concentrated eyes, almost like he is trying to burn a hole right through me. They almost could.

"And you are?"

"I'm Pen - Penelope," I scramble.

"They have the room upstairs ready," one of the men interjects from over his shoulder tapping it roughly. Without so much as an indication, they all turn away from me and head across the main floor. The three guys and my mystery danger guy who is now known as Jay, all head for the stairs that lead to the upper level of the club. My eyes follow in a trance, until they disappear in a sea of people.

What just happened?

Am I dreaming?

"Penny!" I hear Rosie's familiar voice and I instantly feel a rush of relief flood me. "There you are. It's so crazy in here!" she almost shouts, as I become aware with how loud the place has become over the past...

What?

Few minutes?

"How long have you been waiting at the bar?" she questions, as her eyes raid my hands before realising her scotch she left with me is nowhere to be seen. From her frowning brow, I assume she knows where it disappeared to. I ignore her glare and look ahead, only to notice that I seem to be still standing a few rows away from the bar. I shake my head in utter confusion.

Did the past few minutes even happen?

"Ros-a-lie!"

A booming Italian voice hollers over the mumbling around us. With my head pounding, I look up to see her brother Tony and his business associate friend Marco approaching us. Her brother is well dressed in smart slim fit trousers that show off his muscular thighs and a fitted 3/4 sleeved lilac shirt. That beautiful golden skin he shares with his sister, peeking out from the top of his unbuttoned collar, the same hazel eyes and golden perfectly styled hair. He bears his enormous smile that takes up his entire face and has to be one the most infectious grins I had ever seen. It could almost tip even the most depressed soul in a slightly higher direction.

Almost.

"Pen-e-lope!" he bellows as he leans down towards me kissing me on cheek. I tilt my face obliging his traditional way of greeting, although it occurs to me that the last kiss I felt was from _him_. I shiver painfully.

"Tony, how nice to see you," I reply nonchalant. "Marco," I nod.

I notice Tony knowingly glare down at Rosie, a concerned look crosses his previous smile before he raises his eyes toward me. I realise that he must be having silent words about me, you know how people give their opinions by only using their knowing looks. I honestly wasn't in the mood to hear, well, see anything of the sort so I resume my eyesight to the top floor where Jay was last seen. He doesn't appear to be anywhere I can see from here.

Why do I even care?

I don't really.

"Well ladies, I have reserved a space for us to relax and enjoy a drink," Tony starts before signalling his hand out in front of him. "Please follow me."

Rosie turns toward me and does that child-like clap that she does when she's excited and heads towards the staircase that leads to the upper level. I follow vacantly, like a brainless sheep following her heard while our companions mumble something to the nearby bar tender and follow attentively behind us. Once Rosie reaches the top floor, she waits for us to catch up allowing her brother to make his way to the front of our pack. There appears to be a roped off section up here which leads to another oversized door. I am slightly intrigued about what's behind this section and wonder how elite you really need to be to get in there. Tony bends to reach the doorman's ear. It is honestly so deafening in here now with the music thumping and parade of people that I can barely even hear my own thoughts. Or maybe it _is_ just the alcohol.

The host unhinges one end of the tan rope from its bronze bollard and lets us through, leading us towards the extravagant entrance. As he carefully pushes open the polished red door we enter a completely different world.

# Chapter Three

As the heavy door slowly opens, the room I'm faced with is very narrow with low ceilings and plush blood carpet. The walls are charcoal, draped in silk like curtains with the same glossy pendant lights hanging sporadically throughout the room. Along the sides there are privately appointed booths, each with black leather lounges and the same shiny steel tops on low coffee tables in the centre. They are half hidden behind woven dark wooden screens, assumedly to help make them that extra private; leaving a wide aisle directly down the centre. It's quiet in here. It's not filled with the loud music and noisy patrons like in the main part of the club, but a soft hum from the private conversations and the light melody playing in the background. Far across the opposite side of the room I spy a small stage with an acoustic guitar player strumming soulfully along in tune. From where I am standing it's quite hard to make out, especially as the room is so dim, but the song sounds beautiful. I hadn't heard it before but its smooth sound washes over me and I instantly feel much calmer and more at ease than I have felt since I got here.

"Come."

Tony leads us to a private table not far from the doorway we entered through and I follow Rosie's lead and sit down beside her. The leather feels like it wraps itself snugly around my backside as I sink right down into the plush lounge. It's extremely comfortable. I think of how nice it would be to be in my flannel pyjamas right now, curled up listening to the music cascade into the air. I instantly shudder at the disgraceful thought.

No sooner we are all seated a waiter delivers a full tray of drinks from shot glasses to champagne.

"Ros-a-lie, Pen-ne, I hope you understand we unfortunately cannot stay with you all night, but want you enjoy your private booth. It's been reserved for you both for the evening," he says as he picks up two shot glasses and hands one to each of us. We look at each other and she is glowing, beaming with excitement.

I really feel like I owe her this night.

I have been such a shitty friend to her.

I gulp guiltily _._

I force a smile from the corner of my mouth and raise the shot glass in front of me, my hands still shaky from the strange encounters earlier.

"Cheers Penny," she says as we both raise the tiny glass to our lips. Tilting my head back I let the sting of the alcohol burn at the back of my throat and let out a distasteful cough.

"What was that?" I manage to ask, trying to disguise a tiny second one.

"Schnapps!" Tony beams his glistening grin as he finishes off his shot and slams the glass back on the tray. He pops the cork off the champagne bottle and fills each of the four glasses to the brim letting the bubbles tip ever so slightly over the edge. I take my eyes off the scene for a moment to scan around the room. It really is quite hard to see even the details in the booth closest to us. The way the room has been designed, really makes it obvious that this place is all about privacy. My thoughts begin to wander to strange images of adultery and affairs and the kind of place The Loft _really_ could be. A type of behaviour it may unknowingly promote. These thoughts start to call to the pain that has been embedded in me for weeks.

Affairs?

Affairs.

I repeat to myself.

The agonizing word that has been in my head since the blindsided revelation that day. My beloved informing me that he indeed had had an affair, which would see our seemingly perfect future gurgle abruptly down the drain. So many questions inundated me that day and the months following.

How long did it go on?

Who was it with?

Was he in love with her?

Questions that even to this day have not been answered. I tried initially to piece it all together, but the constant re-hashing was making me delusional and depressed. In the days after when I moved in with Rosie, she encouraged me to let it all go and to focus on moving forward. An encouragement I haven't quite gotten the handle on yet. But this outing, tonight, is a step in the right direction and I can't help but think things can only improve from here.

Can they?

I continue to gaze around the room un-intentionally judging the fellow guests and there seemingly less than moral behaviour encouraged by my hurtful memories. I hear Tony's deep bellowing laugh, and I halt my room scanning to look at him.

"You look worried Pen-ne," he chuckles. "I assure you everything 'ere is above board."

I immediately blush. "What is this place?"

"T'is is the VIP room of the Loft, for those who enjoy their privacy so they aren't disturbed..." he trails as he takes a decent sip of his champagne.

I raise my eyebrows momentarily intrigued.

So this is what a VIP room looks like?

I've never been in such a place before.

I shrug my shoulders instantly dismissing any interest.

My former self would have been exhilarated beyond belief that I was actually wining and dining with such high profile people, but this newer decrepit version of me wasn't as interested. I take a huge swig of my champagne so that only half of my glass remains.

I hazily notice Rosie enjoying a conversation with Marco, as they are flirting furiously with each other. She is leaning well over her own lap, revealing her sizeable cleavage as it peers out from her low cut navy lace dress. I don't know how she manages to behave like that with her brother sitting right opposite her, but Tony seems oblivious despite his over-protective nature. I roll my eyes at her obvious display, before regretfully sighing. It _does_ feel good to see her enjoy herself again since Carlos and her ended only a few months ago. They were only together for a year but she was really invested in that relationship. I don't think she even saw it coming. The days after they broke up she was a mess and then I moved in not long after. I think I became a distraction for her. Someone else that was in just as much pain as she was, so she focused all of her attention on me and my situation as her form of therapy.

Or perhaps denial _,_ my evil conscious adds.

"Where is the bathroom?" I brashly interrupt her giggling with Marco to endure her irritated glare.

Ignoring her, I turn to face Tony who raises his hand up pointing towards the stage I saw at the very front of the room. As I abruptly stand, I scull the remaining half of my champagne and place the empty glass on the table. Feeling quite pleased with myself, I squint my eyes trying to see if I can make out any form of a restroom in the direction he indicated. Just next to the stage, I can barely make out the same narrow door I saw downstairs, so I make my way down the centre of the room towards it. I note that my toes are no longer troubling me, which means I've either cut off the circulation completely, or the alcohol is starting to set in. Either way it brings a tiny smile of accomplishment across my already numb lips. As I continue my slow pace across the floor, my eyes begin randomly scanning each booth as I pass it. Not really taking anything in as just walking straight now is a trying task.

I finally make it all the way to the diminutive stage, where I see a single stool accompanied by a microphone on a tall, tapered stand rest artistically in the centre. The performer is no longer there, only the timber guitar leaning effortlessly against the bottom of the stool on the stage floor. I find the door just beside it, and gently push the door open.

Wow.

The room is completely black, mysterious, yet luxurious. Reflective charcoal porcelain like tiles laid across the floor and walls, with huge diamond shaped mirrors covering the opposite wall where the wash basins hang. There are gold chandeliers that dangle gracefully over each basin, where their light glows brightly amongst the dim space. I go to the corner of the basins to where two bullion coloured toilets hide privately behind their tinted glass doors.

Wow.

This is probably the most beautiful bathroom I've ever seen! I'm instantly taken back to the hotel I stayed in when I visited Maui back in June. Leaving our winter weather seemed like the perfect choice for timing a romantic vacation so we could escape the cold. The bathroom at the resort was just as impressive but with a more tropical oasis kind of colour scheme. Suddenly the ache that has built its home in my chest over the past few months, rears its ugly head and I can feel the build-up starting to swell. That was the holiday that my world I loved came crashing down. The time when life as I knew it would all fade away. My beloved and I were on, what I thought would be the trip to start our life together. The night before I had found the ring and a delicate hand written note with words of his undying love for me scrambled on the yellow hotel paper. Tears slowly spill from the corners of my eyes and down onto my cheeks, as the memories from that day still stay very close to my wounded heart. The next morning was when everything abruptly ended.

My memories are instantly interrupted by the squeak of the restroom door so I quickly finish my business and stand up swiftly, using a sheet of toilet paper to blot the water from the corners of my eye. I anxiously pace toward the basins, not noticing the patron pass me into the empty stall and grip it tightly to stay on my feet. I turn the tap on carelessly swishing my hands in the water, sniffing hoarsely and trying to fight the hovering tears. Looking up in the mirror before me, my startling sombre reflection makes the inner swell rumble. I panic.

I have to get out of here.

I yank off the taps harshly and flee out the door in one quick move before...

"Oomph!"

I am stunned as I bump into someone barely outside the bathroom. Before I can look up I begin apologising, not wanting to embarrass myself further with my teary eyes.

"I'm so s-sorry, I wasn't watching where I w-was going," I stutter trying to keep the waterworks at bay, failing most likely. Taking a few erratic breaths due to the thick air surrounding me, I raise my eyes slowly. I am shocked to be greeted by the same intense gaze of my mystery man number two, with the edge of danger filling my immediate surroundings. It's Jay.

"Penelope?" he questions, seemingly just as surprised. "So we meet again."

"No, I'm sorry... I'm... I'm so sorry." I keep shaking my head trying to gather some proper thoughts and form words or an explanation. Anything! But I am a wreck.

I shouldn't be here.

This has all been far too much.

I tried and have failed.

Just get me out of here!

Before I can stop it, a stray tear falls to my chin and I tilt my head back to try to halt anymore from following its fearless lead. I feel Jay's icy finger on my chin absorbing the runaway emotion. The immediate sensation of his touch strikes me powerfully, as he wipes the sole tear in one swift move. He then rests his finger on the very tip of my chin, ever so delicately and the tremors start to run from his touch to my toes, uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?"

His voice is soft and oddly concerned. I gasp inward from the perilous sound of it and the feel of his foreign skin against my now flustered face. I move away uncomfortably, allowing his hand to fall by his side.

"Not really," I murmur wiping my eyes with my hand in a real non lady like manner, and probably smearing mascara all over my face. "I don't mean to be rude but I just need to go. I'm sorry."

I begin to turn away from him but not even a full stride away, I feel his tender touch on the very peak of my shoulder. The contact sends an immediate message to my body and I stop, only moving my head towards the sensation as I fix my eyes on his fingers.

"Come and have a drink," he whispers through the air, his voice cutting through me like a sharp, precise blade through soft butter. I'm not sure why my body is having this reaction to him.

Should I be afraid?

Is it fear?

Without moving my head from my shoulder I glance up in his direction slowly and cautiously, so as if not to scare a wild animal. My head is screaming at me to leave and that I can't bear to face this anymore. But for some reason my body isn't doing what it's being told. For some reason I can't find the words to decline his offer. When the words came so easily to fend off mystery guy number one, incoherently it's proving more difficult with Jay.

Just say NO Penny.

Just walk away.

"Please, you look upset. I have a table nearby. I wouldn't feel right letting you wander off in this... state."

But for unknown reasons my body is drawn to him. The nervousness, the danger in the air, all of it speaks its own language to me that my brain doesn't understand. Before I can put together any form of polite refusal, I can feel the confirmation building from inside me.

"O.. Okay."

He immediately motions me to follow his lead and my body obliges again without thought; burnt out most likely after what I have been dealt with. He leads me to what I thought was the corner of the VIP room until we are faced with more of the oriental screens. I notice that the main area veers off into a smaller intimate space - hidden away from the rest of the guests. From the other side where we entered and where Rosie is seated, you couldn't even see this section of the room. I can't help but feel anxious at this notion, as my body now reacts the way my brain is thinking by shivering nervously. The three guys who I vaguely remember seeing with Jay earlier at the bar, are rested on a leather lounge each with a woman seated almost on top of them. I scan my eyes from each person staring at me from below. Their eyes are un-emotive and distant; and the way the women are draped all over them, make me cover my hands across my body self consciously.

Will Rosie even know where I am?

After standing in front of his _friends_ so inept and silent for a few minutes, he signals me to sit on the vacant leather couch across from them. I automatically sit down stiffly. It occurs to me that he has barely spoken two words to me since the faux rescue downstairs. It isn't like me to follow some stranger into a dark corner and what...?

Make out?

This isn't what I do at all; well especially not for the last ten years anyway. The past decade of my life has been spent building something, a life I thought, with my beloved. From my mid-teens I was hooked on him. The athletic guy with smouldering good looks that could earn him just about any girl he wanted, but for some reason, he wanted me. His tough, bad boy image had me addicted and I unconsciously knew that we would guide each other through the world together as one. I _always_ knew it. I could see the potential in us and what life we could build together; having children, travelling... having it all. He didn't have the confidence to match his tough exterior and from that first moment I just couldn't stay away. I shake off the images of _his_ dark brown eyes staring at me vulnerable, as I feel Jay take the seat beside me leaving only the smallest space between us. The air between us is rapidly building into a thick and tense blanket, so I take a quick breath and look up at him through my lengthy lashes carefully. He is staring at me, cold, and unemotional like he's waiting for something.

Waiting for what?

Me to jump all over him?

I scan to the others seated around the coffee table and I am shocked to see they are all looking at me.

What are they waiting for?

I feel dizzy.

Probably a result of the alcohol I have been sculling all evening, my good conscious frowns.

The women seated with their partnered men are all dressed very similar. Skin tight mini-skirts that almost show the side of their behinds as they sit one leg crossed over the other. Their makeup applied thick, with heavy liner on their eyes and each of them having blonde peroxide hair. Trashy comes to mind. But who was I one to judge when I felt just as unkempt. The men seem completely disinterested in everything, the women and where they are, that they look so vague and incoherent.

Sleazy.

A waiter comes into view and without speaking places a tray of beverages on the low table in front of me. The men grab a beer each leaving the women to pour their own glasses of champagne. I'm instantly thinking about Tony and how he gentleman-like poured mine and Rosie's drinks previously, in stark contrast to the way these guys are treating their companions.

Shit Rosie!

She must be concerned about my whereabouts. After all, I had only left to go to the bathroom and that was a little while ago now. The mere thought that I would cause such apprehension to my friend, yet again, after everything she has done comes over me suddenly. I feel the throb in my chest and am struck with the too familiar guilt for torturing her even further. I feel an elusive touch on my knee as Jay's electric current is felt through the heavy material of my jeans and like before, a slight tremor ripples across my skin.

"What is it?"

I glance up toward his eyes where they meet just for a moment. I've never seen such blue eyes before. I remembered the flood of compliments mine have been given over the years from the time I was a young girl, and they can't honestly compare to this man's exquisite colour. Although it's evident, like earlier that the windows are closed and that vacant emotionless stare still exists within his striking blue gaze. I take a sharp breath.

"I really should get back to my table, my friends will be wondering where I am." I surprise myself at my confidence. It was only a few moments ago I couldn't even string a sentence together. As I keep my eyes fixed on him I begin to wonder what his reaction to my sudden request for a departure might be. But as his body shifts slightly away from me and he removes his hand from my leg, I am immediately relieved.

"You have to go?" he asks completely unemotionally.

"Yes, they will be worried about me."

I stand promptly ignoring the natural sway of my body as it responds to the sudden movement, before noticing Jay rising at the same time. He is standing between me and my exit as I am trapped between the lounges and the coffee table in front. Fear instantly strikes me, as I wonder whether he intends to even let me leave. His body is motionless. His gaze is still blank. But no sooner as the terror builds it vanishes, as he moves his body side on allowing a path for me to pass by. I look down to the floor and take two swift strides so I am free to get away. I sigh again with relief over my apprehension. Before I exit around the screens that shield us from the rest of the world, I turn over my shoulder to look at him again.

"Thank you," escapes me in one breathless motion and I smile sweetly, far more genuine than I would have thought possible. He doesn't attempt to move from where he is stationed, but merely nods politely in reply.

As I start to find my feet again and take tiny steps out from behind the screen, I begin to feel his presence following close behind me - the cloud of thickening air swelling like a storm. I tense in reaction, and am unsure why he is trailing me.

Should I be afraid?

I risk a few more paces until I am almost at the place where I had inelegantly bumped into him, before bracing myself to look at him. His stare is still vacant, haunting almost and yes, incredibly sexy. Dangerous.

"I think I can make it back ok on my own," I whisper nervously.

Suddenly, a slight chuckle overcomes him as the cries of laughter escape from his wide open mouth. He has the most stunningly straight, white teeth and for some reason that's the only thought that assembles. I notice his eyes are much softer and more sincere, like the laughter has opened up his soul. It may be the alcohol, but his soul looks wonderful.

"I, ah, have to get back to work now," he answers. A smirk still across his lips as his eyes dart up toward the stage behind me.

Oh.

I gulp.

He was the singer on the acoustic guitar earlier?

I instantly feel my face flush, from both my complete overreaction to him following me and the way the song made me feel when I entered the room. I had noticed that I hadn't heard the song before, but was surprised at how at ease the melody had made me feel. Ironic, considering how he made me feel when he was singing, is a total contrast to when he is before me.

"Are you staying for a while? Can I....." he starts in his deep voice precisely knifing through the air before he is interrupted.

"Penny!"

Rosie's familiar motherly tone cascades into my immediate air and dissolves the previous tension, as I turn over my shoulder barely in time to weather a forceful hug from her. "Oh my God, where were you?" she gushes. She looks concerned. The same rutted brow above her copious hazel eyes, that has held its place for the past few months. My heart leaks a familiar ache.

Ouch.

"I was worried, are you okay?" she rattles as she frantically scans over me from top to bottom, before her eyes move to Jay. Her face rapidly changes in appearance as she becomes wide eyed and fixated on him. Embarrassed even.

Yes he's intense, I know!

"Oh! I'm so sorry. I, ah, didn't mean to interrupt," she says with complete bewilderment and nudges me, not-so discreetly I might add, in the ribs.

I instantly roll my eyes before peeking up at him. I gasp when I notice he has not taken his eyes off me. His stare has wavered to its original way where all the warmth his previous laughter had left has now disappeared. The dark intensity has found its comfy home yet again.

"I have to go," he rudely states as he shoots daggers at Rosie. Mere moments later he returns his gaze back to me but before I have time to put together any reply, I blink and when I reopen my eyes he is gone. He has taken up his position on the single stool in the middle of the stage beside us, seemingly back to normal and completely disinterested. I take a few seconds to gather my composure, shaking the past few moments from my head and turn on my heel heading back to our table. Notably, Rosie is right next to me and links her arms immediately with mine.

"Oh. My. God," she says under her breath directly in my ear, and in an unusually animated high pitched tone that I haven't really heard from her mouth before.

"What?"

"Do you even know who that is?" She still keeps her voice low but its pitch is rising with her heightened excitement. I shrug my shoulders and shake my head.

No. I mean yes.

He's Jay the mystery danger guy who came to my faux rescue earlier.

Before I can put my thoughts into a response she is already answering her seemingly rhetorical question.

"That is Jay Ryker!" she exclaims quietly. Perhaps still mindful that this place probably would frown upon groupies screaming excitedly about someone she has obviously recognised.

Jay Ryker...

Jay Ryker?

The name sounds familiar, but with the amount of confusion in my head right about now I can't seem to put anything together that makes any kind of sense. I screw my face up in reply to my radical thoughts, and I hear Rosie sigh with disbelief.

"You know Jay Ryker! Lead singer from The Cray?" she asks dubiously, as we manoeuvre around oncoming traffic whilst keeping our course for our booth. As we continue our approach, I notice our table is deserted. Tony and Marco seem to be nowhere in sight and the empty glasses scattered around the table still haven't been collected.

What kind of VIP room is this? I wonder as I skim quickly around the room looking for staff to clear it.

"Penny," Rosie groans as we finally reach our destination. Still linking arms, she tugs on my entwined limb hard and with a thud I awkwardly fall on the leather lounge with her. I don't have time to enjoy the instant comfort I had felt before when I first sat down, as her flustered glare is suffocating me.

"What?" I reply innocently with a smidgen of annoyance. I keep my eyes away from hers still raiding the room for waiters.

I could really do with another drink.

"You need to tell me everything!" she hisses. "How did you get talking to him? What did he say? What was he like?"

She rattles out the questions without taking any breaths. Her body is facing mine completely now so that our knees are firmly touching and our arms still knotted together.

"I don't know..." I mumble, still not looking at her. "I bumped into him outside the bathrooms and he offered me a drink," I say disconcerted. "No big deal."

A-ha!

Finally a waiter!

"No big deal?" her voice screeches with high pitched incredulity. I ignore her and unravelling our tangled arms I signal the waiter.

"I would like to order another round of the champagne please," I state confidently, waiving my arm in a circular motion around the centre of the table. The man nods, gathering the empty glasses onto the centre of his tray before scurrying away; leaving me there alone with Rosie once more.

Damn it!

I roll my eyes.

I will have to face her now.

I hesitantly turn my head so that I am directly facing her. I try to keep my expression nonchalant and casual, which starkly contrasts her astonished yet frustrated appearance.

"What?" I question. "Stop with the staring will you." I glance immediately down toward my knees.

"I can't believe Jay Ryker spoke to you," she breathes slowly and I can still hear the sheer surprise in her tone. It kind of irritates me.

"Why is that? Am I that much of a mess?" I mumble anyway.

YES! My good conscious screams at me.

"No Pen, I don't mean that," she says dismissingly. "I don't think he really talks to anyone. I've read that his band has gotten it on with just about every one imaginable. He's never photographed with the same girl, ever! I mean he has to be at least thirty right? I don't even think he has publicly had a girlfriend, and he's hooked up with way too many women to be gay."

Her bulging eyes are pulsing as she spits out the words. She definitely loves the celebrity gossip sites; not that I can blame her. It used to be one of my favourite past times, to check on what is happening in the world of the famous and the beautiful. It's also one of our common interests in our friendship; well it used to be anyway.

"I can't believe he spoke to you," she continues.

I immediately roll my eyes.

It's really not that big a deal.

"Look, he probably does this all the time. I can only imagine where he was expecting the drink to lead."

My drunken thoughts trail off to the image of his privately appointed table. The way the trashy looking women were draped over those creepy guys and their eyes so obviously disinterested. So vague.

I was probably expected to recognise who he was and go all 'ho' on him.

I shake my head in disgust. That's definitely not the type of person I am, and I'm immediately irritated that he thought I would be. I have only ever allowed one man to enter my bed. I had been in a couple of other relationships and to me they were intimate, but they never quite got to that moment when I knew I wanted to have sex with them. With _him_ , it was a feeling I knew before I really _knew_. We hadn't even been together all that long before I gave him my virtue. I just always knew. I sniff sombrely at the memories of our unspoken connection and I know if I hadn't had so much alcohol in my system these thoughts alone would be enough to send me to the asylum. I shake my head. It doesn't matter to me how well known and hot this guy is, that's not the girl I am or intend to be. Ever. No matter what emotional state I am in.

Coming out of the restroom all teary, and clearly emotional - he probably thought I was a sure thing.

I roll my eyes and begin fidgeting my hands in my lap, again, shaking my head with agitation. Moments later, with Rosie still chattering away about her websites and Jay Rykers many conquests, my mood begins to shift as I hear a faint melody start to float throughout the room. I look up towards the sound and can see the image of a man perched distinctively on the stage. The single mild spotlight glowing around his form as he strums soulfully on his guitar. I can't make out the man in detail from here, especially with the darkness of the room; but I know it's him. The soft tune instantly fills my soul and pacifies the annoyance I had felt only moments before. His music somehow seems to have an effect on me. Completely entranced by the tune, I gently move my torso, tilting my head back and forth to the rhythm I hear cascading into the air. In a feeling of contentment, my eyes close slowly leaving me oscillating in the darkness hypnotized by his songs.

He plays several others, each dissimilar, but all of them having the same magnetic pull on my soul. I can feel the alcohol waving its magic wand over my bodily functions now, as the gentle movement of my head is making the room haze into a blur. Oblivious to even Rosie sitting beside me, I continue my slurry sway and enjoy this rare moment of peace.

"Your drinks ladies," the waiter announces, abruptly bringing me back into the room. I jerk my eyes open and stop the rhythmic movement of my body and give the waiter an accommodating smile.

Finally!

I don't hesitate and no sooner the tray is down, I instantly pop off the cork. The sprightly sound is surprisingly music to my ears and I hastily pour the bubbly, sparkling liquid into both glasses to the brim.

"Bottom's up!" I chirp as I raise the elegant crystal to my lips, without waiting for Rosie and divulge the entire glass in one graceless gulp. Without hesitation, I am already pouring another glass.

"Geez Penny, slow down hey?"

Her motherly tone has been all too familiar these past few months. It's sad to think that our friendship has become this way. Her feeling like she has to take care of me, and to be the one to pick up the pieces after it all ended.

Well no one told her to! It's not like she is my mother, my bad conscious bites.

Shaking off my nasty thought, I raise the second glass of the sweet and familiar beverage tossing it inelegantly down my throat. I put the glass down forcefully and instantly look up at Rosie who is staring at me with disapproving eyes.

"I think it's time we go."

Seeing her so disheartened after she arrived with such enthusiasm makes me feel guilty. The tipsiness I am reeling from isn't making all that much sense, and without thinking I throw both arms tightly around her and give her an over-the-top, bear-like hug. It must have taken her by surprise as she doesn't move at all. She merely sits there allowing me to further tighten my grip around her. After a few moments, I let my grasp go allowing my hands to fall to my sides and give her a quick little peck on her cheek. She smiles.

"Sure, let's go," I answer before raising my pointer finger in front of me. "Just one more glass okay?"

Without waiting for her reaction or judgement, I grab the champagne bottle and speedily fill my glass again to the very brim and swag the fluid straight into my mouth. Feeling quite pleased with myself I place the bottle onto the table and can't help but notice Rosie's glass out of the corner of my eye is still full. I lick my lips wanting to down hers too, but am conflicted with her possible reaction that is oh-so common. Resisting the urge, I stand quickly and wait while she gathers her purse from the empty spot next to her.

"Oh crap, that's my phone," she starts, as she begins fumbling her hands inside her oversized clutch. I roll my eyes.

Her phone is always ringing!

"Just a sec Pen," she states and as she takes the call. "Hello, Rosalie Pravadi...."

She turns her back to me as I tune out her call, only keeping my focus on the table and Rosie's full glass of alcohol still bubbling away. Taking the opportunity with her back turned, I quickly lean down and throw the drink harshly down my throat still bent over awkwardly.

Ugh.

It didn't taste as good as the previous ones I had guzzled.

Maybe because I am bent over in an awkward position? My evil conscious says, making a mild excuse.

Or because you've down an entire bottle in less than five minutes! Damn. My good conscious always has to have the last say and make me feel more pathetic than ever.

It's so juvenile and unlike me to want to get so obviously drunk. I smirk at how my adolescent self would be cheering on how blatant I have been to down so much alcohol over such little time. The obvious contradiction is _where_ I have chosen to exercise such immature behaviour and _with_ the choice of expensive champagne. As I hear the mumble of Rosie's elegant phone voice I notice that the air around feels different somehow. It's thicker, harder to breathe all of a sudden and there is an icy chill in the immediate air. I feel a strange urge to turn around. Before I realise, I turn my head swiftly not moving my body and as the room stops its 180 degree spin due to my intoxicated state, I am met with those intense eyes burning into mine.

I gasp.

Oh shit!

# Chapter Four

Jay is standing behind me, his stance effortlessly cool and casual. He really is an attractive guy.

Verrrry sexy.....

His eyes are so stony and the intensity is almost unbearable to stare into, but like a tragic car accident, I can't seem to look away. The room surrounding him, surrounding us, is blurry. The obvious consequence of the near bottle of expensive champagne I had just downed.

"Are you leaving?" he asks, with a hint of slight amusement. I think he may be teasing me. He is so still. His hands are rigid by his side and his body statuesque, at least a head taller than me – even in my heels. Whilst he wasn't quite as tall as _him_ , he had his own unique presence that simply radiated from every inch of his being. I found myself staring at him, unable to look away, probably with my mouth wide open.

"Yes..." I start as I edge an inelegant cough, clearing my throat trying to snap myself out of my haze. "As soon as Rosie is off the phone." I roll my eyes without looking toward her but can still hear her muttering away.

"I was hoping to have that drink with you," he responds coolly, still not moving his penetrating eyes away from me. I shiver uncomfortably.

"Maybe some other time," I reply coyly before adding much more quickly. "I think I've had far too much tonight anyway and it's really not me, you know to drink so much and you're well... you. I'm no model by any means, and I'm probably not going to be the _type_ of company you were expecting... and..."

Why am I sprawling on?

He doesn't want to hear this!

Although he might if he was planning on taking advantage of me!

"It's probably best if I just go home." I nod my head to confirm my drunken blether.

His mouth turns up in the corners like he's trying to stifle a smile. "Ah, so your friend thinks she has me all figured out."

Shit!

He tears his gaze away from mine and immediately gives an angered glare over in Rosie's direction, who is still unaware of our conversation.

What's that supposed to mean?

Did you know I didn't know who you were?

She figured you out?

What does that mean?

On the fact that you were probably trying to take advantage of me, and I am now informed on your intentions..?

I screw up my face as words scatter irately in my mind. His eyes turn back to mine once more and that uneasy feeling washes over me, as his gaze passes right through me. It gives me a never ending ripple of goose bumps across my skin. Every. Single. Time.

"What about tomorrow?" he asks casually immediately flaring up my irrational thoughts.

Huh?

What does he mean tomorrow?

To resume his taking advantage of me?

What's his problem?

Why is he so persistent?

I shake my head trying to reign in the negative questions simmering away and everything suddenly goes blurry again. Once the room comes into better focus I am forced to look into his powerful eyes. Even in my current state, I can feel the pure magnificence of the piercing blue shoot straight into my soul and wonder why that beauty is so far beneath the surface. A smile comes across my face as I construct a reply.

"Tomorrow? What did you, ah, have in mind?" A childish giggle leaks from my throat and I instantly wonder how he can find this drunkenness even the smallest bit appealing.

Wanting to take advantage, my good conscious reminds me.

Right, that's how.

"I'm only in Sydney for a few days, and I'm bored of hotel rooms," he responds seemingly ignoring my behaviour. "Maybe you could show me around?"

I instantly begin to wonder how I will be in the morning. I haven't left the house for months. This is the very first outing I have had in ages and I wonder if I will be facing the same torturous routine tomorrow. Me hiding away in my room and sleeping away my life depressingly. I frown at the images forming in my mind. "I'm not sure if I can..." I mumble to myself as I peer down toward my fidgeting hands, as my ill memories form a sour taste on my tongue. Suddenly, I feel that almost familiar striking touch on the bottom of my chin as it is carefully tilted so my eyes are forced to look directly at his.

Wow, our bodies are so close.

I gulp.

The intensity of his gaze burns deep into mine and my heart begins to thump so loud in my chest. His dangerous odour fills my lungs as I inhale, and probably due to my drunken state, I breathe in even further for the pure thrill alone. It's intoxicating.

"I would really like to see you again Penelope before I have to leave." His breath is fragrant. His voice calm and somehow those words don't arouse anything in me except suspicion. Maybe even danger.

Why won't this guy just leave me alone?

I'm not ready to spend time with any guy, let alone a guy who only wants me for sex. Not to mention, what would we talk about all day?

Talk?

That's right, he's not interested in talking. He's made that quite clear!

Thoughts continue to have their way with me and mixed with the alcohol I can't manage to stem any coherent sentences together. For some reason my body is drawn to him, but this is not a good situation. It's not the best circumstances for my fragile state to be chased by this man who will have his way with me, and then toss me aside like yesterday's paper. I need to work on getting through each day, one at a time; I can't handle anymore possible torture, and I am definitely not the girl to take part in casual sex.

Am I over-reacting?

Everything is meshing together into an illogical pile, until I hear nothing but a dim hum. Jay's hand is still delicately placed on my chin and I focus on nothing but a pair of blue oceans, staring into them like there is no one else around. It feels as though we are the only two people in the room absorbing each other and despite my fear I am unable to move away.

"A-hem."

I hear Rosie's perfectly timed interruption and a sigh of relief comes over me. His hand immediately falls to his side and I gather my composure as he leaves me to support my chin on my own. Our surroundings suddenly start to reappear as his eyes leave mine for a moment, gazing disapprovingly at Rosie. I feel the throb start to pound in my head and I spring my hand up to my temple; the thump hard and unrelenting. A tsunami of emotion floods me. The tears over my beloved, the first outing I've encountered in months, Rosie's disappointment with me and then this mystery guy, Jay....

Where do I begin?

The hammer strikes again with much more force and I am unable to cope with it any longer. I need to get out of here. I need to go home. I reach down to my purse on the lounge and stash it under my arm.

"Are you ready now?" I ask in a pitchy, over-the-top voice I don't recognise. She gives me slight shake of her head.

Whatever!

Ignoring her and him. Ignoring everything! I turn away and stomp off toward the grand door that I had entered through earlier. I just needed to escape. I needed to run before I was forced to face anything too painful like before. I never had the chance to run last time and I will never let something like that happen to me again. Tonight's been far too overwhelming for my first real step back into reality and I'm surprised that I have managed to keep it together this long.

Well almost together.

I reach the doorway and yank on the handle forcefully. As the door is swung open I am hit with the raucous of the patrons in the rest of the venue. The inexorable chatter, the rowdy music and the sea of people I entered into, has multiplied over the course of the evening. My hands still firmly gripping the door I feel myself fall backwards into the room as everything hits me like a tsunami. My grasp starts to slip off the handle so I close my eyes expecting to hit the floor beneath me. In slow motion I brace myself for impact. Expecting to feel the lavish floor beneath me, my fall has been intercepted by a comforting yet firm object as two strong arms secure themselves tightly around my waist. It's a body that has suspended me mid-fall from behind and stopped the further decline to the ground. It's that odd familiarity I have come to know tonight, as the denser air accompanies my saviour. Without even turning around, I know it's him. My dangerous mystery guy number two has come to my faux rescue once more.

As I reopen my eyes I am facing the closed door, still oddly protected in his arms. The feeling of being so close to someone again and the conflicting sentiment of feeling safe against his firm chest, tugs on my already torn heart strings more than I can bear. I quickly shrug loose and stand, being forced to face him completely embarrassed by the incident. Rosie no sooner joins alongside us.

"Sorry," I mutter under my breath.

That will teach you to drink like a teenager Penny!

I squirm staring at the ground, irrationally noticing that my stiletto heels sink slightly into the velvet beneath me which was _supposed_ to catch my fall. I hear Rosie fumble through her bag.

Her stupid phone probably.

Can't we just leave?

I don't look up nor do I hear the phones ringtone either. I keep my head down and focus on my feet shamelessly, consumed with humiliation.

I just need to get out of here.

After a few moments of her fumbling in silence she finally speaks. "Well we have to go. I have to get her home. But, maybe we might hear from you..." she trails before I feel her warm arm around my waist as she whispers sympathetically. "Come on."

As I cautiously glide my eyes upwards preparing to finally face him, I sigh painfully as he is already walking away. I watch in silent despair as his back slowly drifts away from me. As he reaches beyond the stage where he once sang the most beautiful melodies, he disappears into his private solitude. He was gone.

I follow Rosie's lead out the door, her arm still snug around me. The boisterous noise pains me but I bury myself into her side to help soften the blows, squinting my focus on the floor trying to stay on my feet. As I turn my gaze to my surroundings the room itself isn't as impressive as it was on arrival, as the after effects of the alcohol are having their free reign on my body. The room is fuzzy, the crowd is melting into shifting distorted objects and I can't make out anything clearly. As we manoeuvre around the moving images I lean most of my weight on her and she manages with ease due to her strong athletic build and my slight figure. My thoughts shift to the amount of weight I've lost in recent months since...

The break up.

I swallow heavily.

Such a small word doesn't do the event justice and as I feel the swell of tears build to breaking point I struggle to hold onto any form of composure. The thrashing in my head and the distorted vision is suddenly washed away as my face is struck with an ice cold breeze. We have made it outside the club. I sigh with relief and let the flood of tears pour with pace down my cheeks. I let go of her to urgently wipe my face with the backs of my hands, moving them to my jeans, and then back to my face; to try and keep the constant stream of water from leaking all over my white shirt. I pace well ahead of Rosie now, heading directly for the streets kerb. I can hear her on her phone behind me calling a taxi and when I have no strength to move my feet any longer - I stop. Burying my head in my hands in utter exhaustion. As soon as Rosie reaches me she shifts her body beside me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and allowing my covered face to bury itself amongst her short wavy hair. Uncontrollable sobs endlessly escape my body, my breathing erratic as I sniff hysterically. Its then all the strange events of that night don't even seem to matter, as the sombre heartbreak I'd gone through these past few months floods back forcefully. I stand there embraced by my dearest friend, listening to the sounds of her hushing my sadness and completely embracing the emptiness I'd now become.

As I peek open my eyes I sigh with relief, as I am in familiar territory. Still half asleep, I snuggle into my doona and breathe in deeply, smelling the known scent of my sheets. Fragments of memories seem to scatter in my sore head and I begin to shudder. The images, along with my heated cheeks and puffy eyes all starting to build a reality that I prayed didn't happen.

Please tell me it was a dream.

I lift the blankets upwards to see I am still wearing my white cropped blouse and skinny jeans. I sigh again - now heavily.

So it wasn't a dream then...

Great!

I start remembering my night out and as a result, bury my head under my pillow with the shame and embarrassment filling me instantly. As my mind scans over the events that took place the intensity of Jay's eyes is all that I keep coming back to. It gives me shivers and not in a good way. You would need to be blind to not notice how good looking he is, but I am not in the state of mind to appreciate his beauty in its entirety. It's the intensity beneath his stare that seems to pierce straight through me which is what I can't shake. I hear a faint knock on my bedroom door, and as I look over toward it I see Rosie poke her head in the tiny gap between my door and the architrave.

"Safe to come in?"

I can't manage words. Whether it's due to the emotions or embarrassment I am not sure, so I give her a little nod instead. She enters cautiously.

"So... how are you feeling?" she starts, as she sits on the bed beside me. I don't reply.

"Look Pen, I'm sorry I made you go out last night. I shouldn't push you if you aren't ready," she says, avoiding eye contact. It's strange to see her feeling guilty for once. The roles have momentarily reversed as it's usually me who is sorry for the treatment of my friend. I internally feel a slight win at her sorrowful sight but no sooner frown as a result.

"R.. ahem. Rose... please don't feel bad. I needed to do this. I wanted to do this," I urge as I shift up in my bed so that I am sitting up next to her.

Did I want this?

The blood surges forcefully to my head and it begins to pound relentlessly. I raise my fingers to my temple and flinch at the thumping pain, as it fills my brain to the brim ready to burst at any moment. Rosie reaches over to my hand and her warm grasp pulls it down leaving it palm up on the bed beside us.

"Here." She drops two small white tablets in my open palm. "I thought you could do with this. You had an awful lot to drink last night."

I see a tiny smile come across her face, and wonder what sight I must have been.

Shit, last night!

I shake my head carefully to banish the thoughts that rise, taking care not to further irritate the loud drum that now resides there. "Thanks," I throw the tablets down the back of my throat and swallow them harshly without any water. "What time is it?"

I don't even remember the ride home.

She turns her head towards my en-suite door, and glances up at the white antique clock nestled above the doorframe. "11.30am."

11.30am?

I'm used to sleeping the days away and have become quite comfortable in my now usual routine. It's at this point that I'm usually done talking with her and roll over sullenly and go back to my deep slumber. She is eyeing me intently, as if she is waiting for me to continue my pattern. But for some reason, I don't want to.

"So, did you have a good time last night?" I ask cautiously. I mean the last thing I want to do is piss her off and have her shout at me for ruining her only night out with me in God knows how long! But I want to talk to her. It is something I haven't really done for a while and is something familiar we used to do. Keeping an eager eye on her expression, to my surprise it softens and I sigh with instant relief.

She's not mad.

"It was good to get out with you...." she trails trying to convince me of her positivity. Her face is all scrunched up and I instantly see through it. We simultaneously start giggling. The sound of our childish chuckle fills the air in my room and the once tense sombre mood that has been engraved here for so long, starts to lift oh-so gradually. I begin to feel... to feel...

Okay?

Our laughter dwindles and immediately I feel like a weight has been lifted. I raise my hand delicately to my temple once more, as the loud thump in my head has risen slightly since my laughter, the smile still across my face.

"Ow," I moan without meaning it. Rosie shakes her head still beaming and I notice that she too, appears relieved. Relieved to finally see her friend smile and laugh, probably thinking this day would never come. I have to agree. I didn't think it would either.

"You did have heaps to drink last night. I can't believe you didn't throw it all up!" She glances down beside the bed, and I notice the empty bucket she is eyeing.

She really is like my mother.

I feel compelled to roll my eyes but I stop, because the truth is I am so lucky to have her. She looks back up towards me and before I can forecast her next move she already begins to blurt it out.

"So, what was the deal with Jay Ryker last night?" Her voice is full of excitement, intrigue and is almost in that higher pitch tone I vaguely remember from last night. I fidget in my sheets anxiously and roll my eyes.

"What do you mean?" I question, before adding quickly, "Nothing."

She immediately rolls her eyes at me.

Huh?

She's rolling her eyes at me?

This isn't usually how it goes.

"Pen, he was pretty persistent with you," she says ever so slowly before exuberantly adding, "Jay Ryker!"

So?

I shrug my shoulders, showing no thrill at all for this famous man's attention. "Yes, but we know what for Rose," I say sarcastically. My eyes narrowing to imply our concluded, less than ideal intentions he probably had for me.

"You don't know that!"

I shrug dismissingly. I didn't really know for a fact that's what he wanted; but looking at the other men, the women, the fact he barely even spoke to me and the sheer persistence despite my drunken state \- is enough to conclude away. I roll my eyes at her again and she sighs heavily.

"Don't roll your eyes at me Penny! I'm only saying you can't be certain that was what he wanted." She turns away from my gaze and stands, before reaching to the floor and picking up the bucket that had been left next to me the night before. She looks uncomfortable. "Didn't he want to see you again today?" she asks cautiously her eyes wide anticipating my response.

What's with her?

"I don't know..." I mumble.

Did he?

I can't even remember.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I'm sure he found someone else to sleep with last night so can we please forget about it," I mutter away. "It's not like he has my number or anything."

Feeling a little agitated by our conversation now, I suddenly have the urge to get up. I no sooner swing my legs around the side of my bed, so my feet are firmly on the floor and I hear her astonished gasp.

"Are you getting up?"

"Well, I need to get out of these clothes and in the shower," I reply as I struggle to my feet. A gentle sway takes over my body; my hand firmly fixed to my temple trying to assist with the consistent pulse.

"Of course!" she replies all too eagerly. "I will let you get ready, and meet you in the kitchen for some breakfast... err lunch!" Her voice is filled with over-excitement, that I am certain if she wasn't holding my vomit bucket she would be clapping her hands like a child - the way she does when her voice sounds like this and leaves my room with an almost skip to her step.

She's happy.

I try to shrug off my crankiness and stagger my way across my floor to the bathroom. The sun is beaming through the skylight in the middle of the room as I feel the heat on my skin as I pass through its ray. I turn both taps on in the shower, and drop all of my clothes into a pile beneath my feet.

I enjoy the sensation of the water hitting my body hard, the heat from the liquid creating steam after it hits my tepid skin. I move in and around the water allowing it on every inch of me, feeling and welcoming its exploration. As my hands make their way over my naked body, in gentle caressing motions, I rub the soap all over me. I am a little tentative at first, as the sensation of someone touching my skin after a leave of absence feels completely foreign. But as I slowly relish in the comfort I begin to feel, my eyes close blissfully. As soon as my vision adjusts to the now darkness, the air in the shower becomes intensely thicker. The feeling grows rapidly as an oval shaped image starts forming in my thoughts. The striking blue eyes I remember belonging to him begin to appear. The longer my eyes stay firmly shut, the clearer the image becomes. I begin to remember the emptiness behind those beautifully constructed eyes, and the thrill of risk I felt when I was in his presence. I continue the tender motion of my hands all over my body unconsciously, while my thoughts are locked onto those eyes. I try to read my thought deeper, trying to delve into this mysterious man who, to be honest, has me a little intrigued. Despite feeling like he was dangerous in some way - I wasn't afraid of him. I jerk my eyes open; suddenly feeling too consumed by his memory and move myself completely under the water once more. I try shrugging off the uneasiness I am now feeling by finishing quickly in the shower and yanking off both taps.

I reach my hands up to my long hair and twist the hair between my fingers, so the excess water drains out of it and wrap the towel around it. As I take a few steps towards the basins, so I am faced with my naked bare body in the foggy mirrors, I reach over and wipe the mirror with my hand so I can now see my face in the reflection. The dark circles which were so evident the night before aren't as prominent on my face, and my eyes have gained a fraction of life as well. I force a smile and try to be satisfied with the slight improvement in my image. I can't believe how far I've come in only twelve hours. I feel kind of stupid that it barely took a night off from my miserable self-pity to start to lift in the right direction. All of the heartache and sorrow I have felt; that my friends have felt \- has been an episode I'd rather forget.

Correction, another episode I would rather forget.

If the truth be told, I don't think I will ever truly get over the first one. How can someone re-build their life after so many years of heading in one direction? Putting all of that time, energy, emotion and effort into building something that severely came crashing down. The scar left inside my heart will be there forever and unless some miracle is discovered, it will never vacate its new home. I finish brushing my teeth, and reach for my makeup bag. Using the same three products I familiarly used last night, and without great attention to detail, I swipe on my makeup and head into my bedroom. I unwrap the towel carelessly off my head and drop it to the floor. Standing completely naked in my room I head to my bedside draw and rummage my hands through the panties and bras; selecting a pair at random plus throwing on a black tank singlet and blue skinny jeans. I remember Rosie buying them for me a few weeks after I moved in. She was trying to lift me out of my depression and fed me the only way she knew how - through clothes. They have been hanging in the closet ever since. A small smile crosses my lips, as I recollect my dear friend's constants attempts to cheer me up, and feel I owe her to see me finally wearing them. I adjust the tank with my hands as I make my way out of my bedroom, but halt as I reach the door. I glance around the room staring at my unmade bed, with my crinkled up white doona glowing brightly in the middle of the room against the soft sky blue paint on the walls. My eyes dart to the far side where a large mirror resting above my drawers and the photos stuck on the wall around it. Photos of my parents, of Rosie, even Ryan and Maggs being silly and laughing. I really want to be that way again. I needed it. If I am going to resemble some kind of a life I need to move forward. I'm not sure how, but I have to find a way. I take a deep breath and close the door behind me; striding down the stairs towards something that might make me know how I can live again.

# Chapter Five

As I reach the bottom of the stairs I can hear Rosie in the kitchen. She is loudly humming some tune and as I approach the entranceway I see her bopping her body in time with her melody. She is behind the bench buttering a baguette swaying her hips seductively to her song. I stop in the doorway watching her with softened eyes, relieved that she looks happy. I hadn't given her the time to grieve her relationship because I was so focused on mine, and it made me less guilty that she at least was dealing with it better than I had. She waves her knife casually in the air as she dances in the kitchen before tossing it past her left shoulder and into the sink. It makes a loud ding sound from the steel hitting the inside of the basin and she looks up at me startled, as she notices me watching her.

"Oh, hi," she starts. "Did you want one?" she questions cautiously.

I ease my way beside her and reach for the buttered baguette on the bench. "I will have it like this thanks," I answer politely as I take a bite from the end of it.

She smiles. She wanders over to the refrigerator on her far left and grabs two cans of Diet Pepsi. In another quick motion she pushes the door closed with her leg and without warning tosses me one in the air. I drop my baguette quickly on the bench and turn to awkwardly catch the air flung can.

"Are you right?" I gasp with a giggle. "Give me some warning girl!"

I stand the can up on the bench to allow the gas to subside and resume devouring my bread.

"So how are you feeling?" she asks anxiously.

"Good I think," I answer honestly but am unsure of my response. "One day at a time yeah?" I continue. She grins and nods, as I take another bite.

The simple joy of my baguette being mutated in my mouth is interrupted by an annoyingly familiar song, so I thought. Instantly my eyes roll as it has to be Rosie's phone ringing.... again!

Her phone always rings.

But as I glance toward her she moves to the window across from the bench where the small glass buffet table rests. This table is a collection of bank statements, bills, receipts, and other paper items all spread over the top like some kind of paper Mache creation. Still listening to the sound of the ring, I notice that it isn't her usual song. It's some strange techno beat, which I don't remember hearing before. Her hands frantically stifle through the sea of papers until she pulls out a phone from beneath them, making it ring all that much louder.

That's my phone.

I think?

When my world ended and I fell into my depressive state, Rosie thought it was a good idea to get rid of my old phone and replace it with a new one. 'New number, new start.' I remember her words as clear as if they were only spoken yesterday. The only people who have the new number is Rosie and Maggie, as I hadn't gotten around passing it on to everyone else. I've been busy, wallowing in my self-pity. Taking a quick look at Rosie, who is obviously holding my phone, I then make the assumption its Maggie. Without further hesitation, I snatch it out of her hands and answer it before she can even blink.

"Maggs! I've missed you bitch!" I beam at my playful tone, as this hasn't been the kind of behaviour I've felt for so long; or perhaps I was still drunk. Either way, it makes me feel like another weight has been lifted off my burdened shoulders. The other end is silent for a moment and as I peek toward Rosie she wears a stunned expression across her face. Thinking it's her reaction to my light-hearted tone that has been elusive all this time, I smile warmly towards her to help ease her surprise.

"Hello? I was looking for Penelope."

My heart stops still. My eyes widen as I gaze shockingly toward Rosie, who is still wearing her astounded gawk.

Shit!

I instantly recognise the cool, expressionless American accent on the other end of the line. It's Jay Ryker.

Fuck!

My heart resumes its beat, but in a strange erratic kind of way, and taking a short breath I begin to respond. "Umm, yes, its Penelope, sorry I thought you were someone else."

Oh God. I couldn't be any more stupid if I tried.

I bite my lip nervously as my thoughts banish my newly found confidence when I hear a slight chuckle in my ear.

"So I'm not your bitch then."

I squeeze my eyes closed in utter embarrassment. "No, sorry about that," I blush immediately. "It's Jay. I met you last night." I wince at the thought, forcing my eyes up shamefully in time to see Rosie's hands clap with excitement. I roll my eyes automatically in response.

"So you do remember?" His voice has lost the slight warmth from his giggle and the chills begin to shiver down my spine painfully.

"Yes, of course."

Glancing again at Rosie I cover my hand over the receiver and mime, 'How did he get my number?' She shrugs her shoulders to answer my question and I remove my hand immediately from the phone.

"I was hoping you were still free to come out with me today?" he asks ever so coolly.

Still free?

Since when did I even say I was free?

I wrack my brain, frantically recollecting our conversations from the previous night and despite the grogginess, nothing comes to mind. "Today? Umm..." my voice starts shakily, as I try to assemble an appropriate response. Even through the phone, the danger in his voice cuts through me so precisely that I find it hard to engage my head. I am staring at Rosie. I am searching her eyes, begging for her to give me an easy way out of this. For her to give me some kind of an escape. But I know what her expression is saying, and it's not want I want to be hearing. Her large eyes are throbbing with anticipation, her head bobbing frantically, nodding furiously for me to say yes.

You bloody go! I feel like yelling at her.

But like my body doing its own thing last night against the wishes of my mind, I can already feel the words forming their own sentence. Before I have time to rationalise against it, they slip steadily out of my mouth.

"Sure. I guess...."

Maybe it will be fun?

FUN?!

This day trip will be anything but. I can already see the tension, the anxiety, the silence... oh my, the silence! He barely constructs a conversation.

He's probably not after good conversation Penelope. And that would be my good conscious reminding me, again.

"Good," he replies steadily. "Does thirty minutes work for you?" He pauses, waiting for my answer, but my brain still hasn't caught up. "Where should I send the cab?" he adds not giving me anymore time to answer or possibly decline.

My address?

Why would I give this stranger my home address?

Just last night I thought he was a sexual predator trying to take advantage of me.

I clench my teeth together in anguish, but again, he doesn't give me time to respond.

"Just text it to me, since you have my number now. I'll see you soon."

And with my mouth still wide, my jaw dropped to the floor - I hear the click on the other end of the phone. He was gone. I stand there still for a moment, still gripping the phone to my ear despite there being no one on the other end. I stare blankly towards Rosie who is still wearing her ample eyed astonished grin.

"Well what happened? When are you going to see him? Oh my God this is so exciting!" She hurries her words so fast out her mouth they almost mesh together. I instantly snap out of my numb state and roll my eyes at her enthusiasm.

"Why don't you go if you are so bloody excited about it?" I bite, as I toss my phone back onto the paper Mache covered buffet knocking a small pile of papers to the very edge of the table. "How the hell did he even get my number?" I shake my head sceptically and I immediately notice Rosie skulk her head towards the floor, as she creeps away from me towards the bench. I'm instantly suspicious.

"Rosieeeeeee..." I complain.

She spins around to look at me throwing her hands frustratingly in the air.

"Oh what Penelope!? Some celebrity, fucking gorgeous guy wants to hang out with you, of course I gave him your fucking number!" she snaps.

Fucking?

Rosie does not ever use that word, but before I know it, the routine rebuttal begins flourishing comfortably. "What's wrong with you? It's not _you_ that has to spend the day with him!" I snort irrationally.

She takes a swig of her opened can from off the bench. "Oh whatever Penny. Are you evening listening to yourself? This gorgeous guy wants to see you. Not me. _You._ Get over your self-pity for fucks sake, enough's, enough. We _all_ need to move on you know." She slams down her drink and heads out of the kitchen towards the main lobby. I follow, but a slight inappropriate giggle comes over me as the word 'fuck' sounds so ridiculous coming out her usually articulate mouth.

"Rosie!" I call after her. "Wait a second," I plead.

She stops in front of the timber staircase and turns to look at me. Her fly like eyes protruding, pulsating at me, and her arms gravely folded across her body. She looks angry. I halt just in front of her but before I can say anything, she sighs heavily.

"Pen, I know you have had a hard time. But it's been three months. It's time to start enjoying your life. It's time to start living again," she reasons firmly. The former anger settling with each word. "I'm not trying to push you into anything, but it's sight-seeing, in Sydney, with a hot guy that is _never_ going to happen ever again. You would be crazy, no _stupid_ not to go." She raises her hands in the air to emphasise her words as I allow their logic to sink in; struggling to find an actual real excuse.

"I know," I shrug.

But...?

"What happens if he wants to, you know?" I ask like an inexperienced teenager.

She laughs. "Well you have done it before so I'm sure you know what to do."

I roll my eyes. "I'm serious Rose. You know what he was like last night. He's... intense. I'm not like that. I'm not ready to be that girl yet. I probably won't ever want to be that girl again," I plead, hoping she understands my fear.

Fear...?

Yes fear.

That's why I'm hesitant to go out with him. Even if it is just a day trip with this guy, I can't bear to put myself in that vulnerable position again. A position where I will feel and maybe enjoy myself, before having it all come crashing down around me. I'm so fragile mentally, that I feel even a minor incident could tip me over the edge. Besides, I remember how his voice made me feel. It aroused such an intensity in me. Such a strong emotional feeling that will be hard to handle for an entire day. And those eyes. I get chills just thinking about them.

Can I really do this?

Should I?

"It's just one day Penny. One day," she reasons, as she places both of her hands on my shoulders gently squeezing them beneath her strong hold.

"You will go out, see some of Sydney, eat lunch, then come home and tell me all about it. It will be a story you will look back on one day and won't believe you actually hung out with a guy like that."

I guess there is no harm in a day out...

"You're right," I mumble. "It's just one day."

I nod my head trying to ascertain my words but the knots start to build inside my stomach resiliently. I take an anxious breath.

It's just one day.

# Chapter Six

I wait on the porch for the taxi to arrive, alone. It's been almost thirty five minutes and instantly I'm thinking, 'He's late!'

Not the best start.

But I try to push the negative thoughts away and really take in Rosie's words. It's an adventure, I am getting myself out of the house which is a huge step forward, it's something I could gossip to my friends about; and of course I am a little curious about what it would be like to spend the day with this famous guy.

Besides, it takes two to tango.

I roll my eyes chuckling to myself as that saying I think every mother uses at some stage in their lives whilst talking to their daughters - sounds hilarious coming from me.

I really need to give mum a call.

My thoughts quickly drift to my parents and how worried they must be. I haven't spoken to them since they moved to Queensland, which was around the same time that my beloved and I broke up. I haven't really spoken to anyone. I decide that after my day with Mr Musician I will call my mum and let her know I'm alright, despite not really being okay. So maybe I should just settle for letting her know that I am alive.

That works.

Just then a white taxi pulls up in the kerb and I immediately take long, striding steps towards the rear door. As soon as I reach the handle, the door automatically opens and slowly swings out in front of me. Surprised, I raise my sight to look inside and am met with those striking icy blue eyes. It's Jay. I gasp at both the astonishment of seeing him there and the intensity his gaze hits me with. His text clearly said he would send a car for me but never mentioned he would be in it. I just assumed I would be meeting him somewhere. I look down, away from his face and slide into the rear seat closing the door behind me; still making a conscious effort not to look at him. I blush.

"Nice to see you again Penelope," he states smoothly. That cold, shrilling monotone cutting through my insides and forcing me to slowly turn my face to meet his. I smile nervously.

"So where are you taking me?" he continues, a slight arrogant smirk across his face.

Huh?

Oh, you so know what you are doing.

My good conscious shakes her head at me disapprovingly.

"Where do you want to go?" I ask surprisingly sarcastic raising my eyebrows to emphasise my tone; feeling quite proud of myself for matching his attempt at overconfidence.

He doesn't answer me, but continues his stare. That dark unemotional gaze that looks right into my soul. I shake the feelings off me, my routine stubbornness claiming all of its glory.

"Argyle Street, The Rocks please," I turn and call assertively to the driver.

There!

As the car leaves the kerb of Rosie's terrace, I turn my gaze towards Jay. He is sitting completely still on his side of the vehicle, so casually and naturally.

Wow, he is pretty hot. Rosie's right.

He is so damn attractive that it's almost unbelievable. It's like he isn't even real. The perfect way his brown hair stands sexily tall, without even a hint of hair product; and his smooth fair skin perfectly complementing the contrast between his darker hair and pale blue eyes. He is dressed so effortlessly today in slim black jeans and a thin white tee which sits loosely on his firm body - yet is fragile enough to see the toned outline of his sculptured body beneath it. His strong left leg crossed over his right, all the way down to his lace up boots which aren't even done up all the way to the top.

He's that cool _,_ my conscious quips at me sarcastically.

I feel so out of my league.

I glance down towards my outfit that I threw on this morning and it doesn't seem to impress me enough at all. Not for the fact that I am sharing a car with someone famous, who is probably used to much more beautiful and well-dressed company. I feel queasy just thinking about it.

"The Rocks?" his sleek tone questions, forcing my eyes to look up at him.

"Umm, yeah. Have you been?" I ask curiously whilst fidgeting my fingers in my lap. All of my previous sarcasm and assurance now completely evaporated from my body.

He gazes down towards his phone that is cradled in his hand as he responds. "Many times."

Oh.

I fidget nervously.

I am so uncomfortable.

I don't even know what to say to him!

Think of something to say.... think of something to say....

I watch him in thought as he rummages with one hand through his phone, probably checking emails or texts, and from God knows who. It would appear that whatever it is that he's doing though, is obviously more interesting than his current company. I shift in my seat.

Just ask him something.

My thoughts are scattered into a panic. I can't stand the awkward silence we are currently experiencing.

Not that he seems to notice, my conscious remarks.

I need to get some kind of conversation going or there is no way I will survive the day. Otherwise I will be changing course on what I'll be telling my mother when I call her later. I won't be so _alive_ after all.

Anything Penny...

Just ask anything!

Before I can control the words, cause a diversion, or even prepare the sentence \- they start to trickle out of my mouth. "So, why were you so interested in seeing me again?"

Shit!

My cheeks begin to build with the heat from my flushing face, as I instantaneously regret what has escaped. He stops fiddling with his phone like I am finally catching his attention, his eyes burning fiercely into mine instantly making me wish he went back to whatever was more interesting a moment ago.

"I wanted to," he answers bluntly, like a spoilt child who always gets what they want. I raise my eyebrow upwards dubiously, as if to motion him to go on in further detail. He seems to respond. "There was something about you, when I.. err... intervened with that guy pestering you for a drink," he shakes his head disapprovingly. "You are mysterious. You intrigue me," he adds more thoughtfully, his eyes softening as the words exit his lips.

Me?

Mysterious?

How?

"Doesn't happen too often," he continues with slight amusement.

So you don't get too interested...

That's not surprising.

I vaguely remember Rosie's remarks about him never being snapped with the same women in the tabloids and his sentence clearly makes sense.

Doesn't get snapped with them - just fucks them _,_ my good conscious sniggers, shaking her head at me clearly let down.

I swallow heavily.

"Your eyes don't give very much away Penelope," he continues before turning his attention out the window seemingly _dis_ interested again.

My eyes don't give much away?

Is he serious? Mr Intensity himself?

My head wants to push for further answers, but I'm not sure I want to continue right now. I have the whole day to get through and I don't want to start off too uneasy. As I glance out the window I see we are mere minutes from our destination, so I bite my tongue and say nothing.

As soon as we reach the start of Argyle Street, the driver immediately steers to the side and out of the traffic. Jay pulls out his dark aviator sunglasses and places them over his gorgeous but intense blue eyes. A sigh of relief settles over me.

He slides out first but to my surprise, he holds open the door. I slide my bum along the worn leather seat and prepare to take the place beside him. I wouldn't have thought him to be so polite. So...

Gentlemanly.

I screw up my nose at that thought, as gentleman is _not_ the word I would ever use to describe such a sex-on-legs kind of guy. He extends his arm and bends it at the elbow, allowing me to hold onto his forearm for support as I pull myself upright outside the car. As I touch his bare skin with my palm, an immediate sensation ripples throughout my body. The same powerful emotions I remember so clearly from last night.

Fear?

Is this guy dangerous?

I can't quite put my finger on what it is about him that screams so loudly at my body. But whatever it is, walks a fine line between unwanted and need. He leans over to the driver handing him some cash before shoving his phone into his denim pocket. As soon as I let go of his arm the conflicting sensations make a speedy exit, allowing me to breathe normally again.

"So where are we going?" he questions. His tone, despite being completely unassuming is dripping with sarcasm, rousing my stubbornness from its brief slumber.

I smirk.

I look up the street towards Circular Quay and since it's a Saturday, suggest checking out the markets. He nods, but not without the still smugness across his face as we start our stroll along the sunny streets of Sydney. To keep my uneasiness at bay, I gaze blankly around at the people passing by us.

Does anyone recognise him?

I can't tell. Nobody appears to take notice of him as they walk by, well, except for the women. But that wouldn't necessarily be because they recognised him, as any girl who had eyes would ogle in his direction. He didn't even walk like most men. He glided, like he was the main act taking centre stage. I felt nowhere near exceptional enough to be walking beside him, but I knew no one would notice me anyway. Any eyes that would even glance in our direction would be for him; and in that moment, it both relieved and annoyed the hell out of me.

There is at least half a metre between us as we walk in awkward silence along the street. He casually checks out the stores one at a time as we pass them; restaurants, clothing, and tourist ones, all perched proudly along the strip. It's a really popular place on the weekends for families and visitors, where they can appreciate the atmosphere and live music provided by the odd busker or two. Today is no exception. The further we walk the more people there seem to be.

"Ah we will definitely be coming back here," I hear him ooze interrupting my thoughts, as we walk past the Chocolate Shop.

So he likes chocolate.

I can't help but think that besides him obviously being interested in music, this is the first thing I have really learned about him. Well besides his love for the opposite sex courtesy of Rosie's knowledge. I shudder.

We eventually find ourselves where the markets begin and join the hundreds of people stationed around the stalls. I spot a random one nearby displaying all kinds of hats, and without contemplation, make a beeline for it not even knowing if he is following my lead. As I reach the stand I feel his presence behind me, and I can't help it \- I smile. I'm not sure why, but I reach up confidently to touch one of the traditional Aussie swags and a thought, accompanied by a huge grin comes over me. I grab the hat from the shelf and immediately turn to face him so I can place it carefully on his head. I giggle at the sight.

So not him.

"There I think that's you!" I sneer, trying to hold in my laughter.

Have I gone too far?

What will he do?

He doesn't comment straight away, but keeping the swag lopsided on his head he browses the other hats until he finds an over the top cowboy one in navy blue. He reaches for it and places it on my head very carefully, and although I can't see his eyes through his dark shades, I can feel their intensive stare all over me. He exhales loudly, his hot breath caressing my face as our bodies are close to one another. My body stiffens.

"I think this one's you," he says matching the smile in my voice. "Brings out your eyes though," he adds softly, and surprising sweetly. I blush.

He reaches for his phone that he had stuffed in his pocket earlier and fumbles through it. "We need to remember this."

A photo?

Not what I expected.

Who would've thought we would be trying on touristy hats and taking happy snaps at the markets?

I really didn't know him and shouldn't assume otherwise – especially since the only point of reference is Rosie's reliable source also known as 'the internet'. He moves his head right next to mine and positions his arm outstretched in front of us. I manage a tiny smile until I hear the click of his camera phone. He no sooner puts it back in his pocket and removes his hat, combing his fingers through his thick hair. I follow his lead returning mine as well, before quickly catching up to him as he starts to move away.

We spend a couple of hours browsing the stalls and making small talk about certain sights; and when I say small talk, I mean _small_. I'm pretty sure I've calculated half a dozen sentences this entire time. It's usually several minutes on the phone, a sentence, followed by awkward silence - then hit repeat. He finally suggests we eat a late lunch as it's almost 4.00pm and takes me to 'Roman's'; a seafood eatery nestled just under the Harbour Bridge. The area down here is gorgeous. Glancing out toward the many boats and ferries passing us on the harbour, the large architectural landmark in our frame - really is a sight to be seen. We casually approach the desk and are immediately greeted by the host.

"Ah Mr Loft, so happy to welcome you. Please will you follow me Sir," the formally dressed host says eagerly.

Mr Loft....?

I turn my puzzled expression towards Jay, and as he removes his glasses, he beams his playful grin in my direction. "I figured last night was far too memorable not to mention again," he whispers sarcastically in my ear. I cringe.

Okay, he may have won that one.

We are led to a table upstairs, where we appear to be the only ones up here. My thoughts instantly go back to the private booth he and his _company_ were sitting at last night, especially since he annoyingly mentioned the outing last night. The space he reserved was so exclusive and secluded. He obviously likes his privacy.

Can't imagine why, my conscious remarks at me.

The images of those women immediately fill my head making me squirm uncomfortably, and for a split second I toss my head from side to side desperate for some kind of exit.

"Sir, your table."

As we take a seat across from each other on the circular table he remains silent whilst instantly browsing the menu. Now I definitely haven't been on many dates since I've been with the one man for the last decade, but I'm certain there needs to be more conversation. A lot more. Not wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon in complete inept silence and considering I didn't want to think further about being alone with him; I bite the bullet.

It's just talking Penny...

"So, have you eaten here before?" I ask surprisingly upbeat, considering my stomach was in sizeable knots as I shook the images of him with other women from my mind.

"Only once," he replies bluntly without even looking up.

Okay...

"And what did you order? Was it something you can recommend?" I ask, desperate to get more out of him.

"I think I had the grilled salmon and it was good."

Geez, this is painful.

My nervousness starts to give me verbal diarrhoea; since asking him questions wasn't having the desired effect I was after.

"I'm not much of a seafood fan myself. I have this hideous memory of my dad taking me into this seafood restaurant when I was probably about fourteen and he ordered me this massive fish!" I raise my hands above the table, signalling the size of the fish that was presented to me on my plate, before sprawling on with my story. "It was honestly the biggest fish I'd ever seen! It wasn't filleted or skinned or anything and the look of its eye just staring at me completely freaked me out." I chuckle to myself at the recollection. It was so nice to reminisce about my family and my past that wasn't focused all on _him_. As small as it was, it felt good. So I continue on chirpily. "My dad then picks up the fish holding its body in one hand and using his other hand grips it around its mouth. He starts moving its jaw up and down like its talking to me." I get goose bumps just thinking about it, and smile at the fondness of the memory. "Needless to say it scarred me for life from ever eating it again."

I finish my story and turn my attention to Jay, who has finally taken his focus off the menu. He looks up at me, eyes softer than before which is a kind reprieve, but he looks confused like he's trying to understand something. "So you won't eat fish because your father made it talk to you?"

He asks me in a way that makes me feel immature and silly.

"Yes. I mean no, not that," I scramble flustered, moving my gaze down towards the table. "It's just something I remember," I mumble under my breath.

Instead of wallowing or changing tact, my mouth won't stop speaking. "So, how long are you in Sydney for?"

"Just a few days, I had a gig to do at the Loft last night," he pauses and grins briefly at me. I blush.

How can I forget?

"I'm back to the states tomorrow night. Red eye."

Tomorrow night?

"I have to finish the new album, some meetings and have a few gigs in LA to do."

I force a smile between tense closed lips. "That is a quick visit," is all I can seem to get out. Without any warning he continues to speak, and as his words are so far and few between I intently listen using every inch of my body to pay the upmost attention.

"I've always enjoyed Sydney."

Enjoyed?

"It's a great city with great food."

Great women...

He raises his hands to his chin, resting his pointy elbows on the table in front of him. I nod so he knows I'm listening to his every word. "What about you Penelope? What's your story?" he asks very... seductively? Well I think that's what it is.

"My story?" I blink twice."What do you mean?" I ask innocently.

"Well last night you were quite determined to not let that suit buy you a drink, and you did everything you could to avoid my company."

I squirm in my very expensive chair to where this conversation seems to be heading.

"And you came out of the bathroom quite... emotional." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. _He_ looks confused. "I'm surprised that you even came out with me today."

His eyes stare into mine. Stare way down, like they are trying to read my souls silent pain and to uncover its deepest secrets. I squirm again uncomfortably, as I have tried to push all of that emotional pain so deep inside so I can try to move forward.

Why does he want to bring this up?

He keeps his gaze locked onto mine and my face scrunches slightly, not knowing where to start my words. I take an awkward breath.

"It's a very long, complicated story... a painful one. One I'm really not ready to talk about," I finally say with complete honesty. I tear my glance away from him and stare down at the table in an attempt to stifle any under the surface emotion from spilling over.

From the corner of my eye I notice his pale, long arm stretch out towards mine as he places his barely there touch on my forearm. I look up slowly, breathless and lock onto his eyes from under my long lashes; my breath hitching from the gesture.

"Well whenever you are, I'd like to hear it. I'd like to hear about you." His words escape softly, as they disperse into the air. For the first time today his eyes are genuinely warmer and more inviting. I swallow heavily.

"You have me intrigued Penelope."

The fear I feel when his eyes burn into mine isn't as intimidating, but the emotions he arouses inside me are much fiercer than before. I shrug my arm from underneath his gentle grasp, placing it in my lap underneath the table. He slowly retreats his outstretched arm towards him leaning well back into his chair, his eyes still trying to solve some puzzle.

"Excuse me Sir are you ready to order?"

Our private moment is interrupted by the waiter and Jay immediately peruses over the menu, right where he left off. He concisely dictates his order and the way he would like it, immediately forgetting about the almost tender moment we just shared - whilst I sit in a daze watching him.

"I'm famished!" he exclaims as he puts down the fork on his almost clean plate, and leans way back into his seat raising his hands to his hair. I'm actually surprised by how sexy he looks, you know, when he's not being all intense and serious. I smile fondly at the view.

"Is that all you are going to eat?" he asks in disbelief as I peer down at my quite full plate which I've hardly touched.

I'm a girl okay and I am intimated to eat in front of you.

"I wasn't that hungry."

And I really wasn't prepared to eat in front of you.

He rolls his eyes slightly. "Ah, so you are one of _those_ girls." He seems disappointed. His reaction gets my back up immediately, and again for reasons I can't explain in his presence, I can't stop the flow of words building inside. My instant reaction of routine rebuttal that has been oh-too familiar.

"No, I am just not that hungry. I can't stomach much food these days okay."

I blush at my minor outburst as I feel like I overreacted; and despite my eyes focusing on my knotted fingers in my lap, I can still feel his gaze intensify in my direction. It's the way the air around me becomes thicker and much denser, like I need more oxygen to breathe.

"These days? Is this to do with that long story you don't want to tell me yet?"

Yet?

I peer through my lashes again until our eyes meet. I'm surprised to see his expression is gentle, despite the opacity of the air between us.

"It may have something to do with that," I whisper slowly not wanting to say much more. We stare at each other for a moment longer before he seems to snap his mind out of his thoughts in a blink.

"Are you ready to go?"

Geez he's such a schizo!

"I guess."

Moments later as I exit the restaurant, I decide to wait for Jay across the street where I can overlook the Harbour. Despite only being with him for one day, he seemed to bring out an array of emotions from me. I was easily falling from uncomfortable one minute, to confidently stubborn the next. I felt a brief reprieve from him would be what I needed for my mind to be able to think straight. He was a little behind me fixing up the bill, which he wouldn't let me contribute to I might add, so I knew I would have at least a few minutes to myself.

He can probably afford it, my conscious quips.  
Yes more than me since I'm technically unemployed!

I sigh at the thought.

I halt against the low rendered fence where I can rest my arms atop the ledge and gaze out across the calm waters. The contentment I feel whilst watching the passing ferries and yachts is such a feeling of peace. I take several deep, long slow breaths so my chest fills with the spring air and enjoy this moment of tranquillity. I beam at the pure joy such a simple task evokes in me, revelling in it wholly.

"It's such a beautiful spot down here."

I know that voice. I smile.

"Yes it is. I love it down here too. It's so beautiful." I keep my eyes gazing lovingly towards the serene ocean.

"Yes definitely beautiful," he oozes softly; and for some reason the way he says it I am drawn to look at him. I am taken back to see that he his adoring stare is in _my_ direction and not at the inspiring view I was referring to. As my head turns to meet his, our eyes lock like two magnets being pulled together by unseen forces.

Was he saying that I'm beautiful?

Surely not.

My eyes stay fixed to his despite me wanting to look away. I can feel my heart begin to pound loudly in my chest with an echo of the stabbing pain that now resides there permanently. My head is begging me to look away for fear where this may lead, but my brain has no control over my body's actions when I'm around him. I feel his cool fingers gently rest of the very tip of my chin, our eyes still locked on each other. Slowly, and ever so carefully, I see his face move inches towards mine. My heart thumps louder in my chest... _Ow!_ It screams, begging me to stop before he gets any closer. Pleading with me not to do this to it again - but my body isn't listening. His mouth is mere inches from mine and I can feel his warm breath exhale onto my lips before I begin to close my eyes.

"AHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my God!! Oh my God!!!"

I am deafened by shrilling shrieks. I'm immediately snapped out of my position, clutching both of my hands up over my ears. I turn abruptly to see about half a dozen teenage girls going completely gaga for Jay. I don't take my eyes off them for a moment as I take in the weirdness unfolding before me. Some are even crying!

"Jay! Jay Ryker? It is you!"

"Can I have a photo with you?"

"Me too, me too, please?!"

I am gobsmacked. I have never witnessed such strange behaviour before. I stand motionless, completely taken surprise by the saga surrounding me; staring un-emotively toward the young girls losing their minds over the very sight of him. It was sheer madness.

I finally turn to look at him and notice he has managed to cover up those gorgeous blue eyes with his dark aviators, as he stands stiffly beside me. He is rigid; appearing to be back to his usual stand-offish self and the firm line of those lips that were seconds from taking mine captive - are in a hard line. He doesn't reply to the screaming fans with words, only nods politely, allowing them take their snaps of him; not indicating anything to me at all. It's as if I am not even here. I'm confused as to how we could go from such an intimate, almost moment to him basically ignoring that I'm even in his presence.

Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?

As they take their turns all giddy, giggling, still screaming off and on, and telling him how much they love him; the bitter part of me who still tragically remembers her broken heart, starts to skulk away. I take a few strides down the street keeping my gaze on the Harbour until I can no longer hear the girls obsessed ranting.

I can't believe he nearly kissed me!

I mean, I nearly kissed him.

What am I thinking?!

I'm obviously not thinking!

The words Rosie spoke earlier reminisce in my head.

'If he wants to, I'm sure you know what to do.'

No, no, no, NO!

I am nowhere near ready for that!

My hearts faint echo starts to pulse even louder and far more painful than I've felt since the day before. I feel the small chunks start to rise up the depths of my throat and into my mouth.

I can't do this.

I swallow the disgusting taste away and glance down the road where I left him. He appears to be wrapping things up with his adoring teenage fans and I decide I need an exit strategy. And now. I take a few swift leaps toward the street and stick out my arm, praying a taxi will come to my rescue. Faintly, I think I see one in the distance.

"Hey!"

I hear Jay call to me from behind and turning only my head, I see him jogging towards me.

Shit!

I turn abruptly back toward the street hoping I will be met with the taxi before he reaches me.

"Where are you going?" he asks as he approaches, with a hint of concern in his usually un-emotive voice. My arm still stretched out over the kerb and my back facing him, I peek over my shoulder so I can look at him, carefully.

Take a deep breath. Be strong.

"I want to thank you so much for today. The markets and lunch, I had a nice time," I state honestly, my voice sounding unemotional and unkind. His brow creases and he rubs his forehead with his hands roughly. He looks worried, confused maybe; before returning his earnest striking eyes toward mine. His subtle touch is felt on my arm as he tugs it gently, guiding it down towards my side.

"Please don't go yet."   
Oh my.  
His voice cuts through me, right to the core and I stand stiffly not wanting to make any sudden movements. As openly as I can manage without completely falling apart around him I tenderly whisper. "I can't."

I take a deep breath and muster as much strength as I can. I raise my hand from underneath his delicate hold and signal the oncoming taxi. Within seconds the car pulls abruptly into the kerb. I reach dramatically for the door handle swinging it open emotionally, and before I hurdle into the car I turn to look at him once more. "I'm sorry," I mutter before getting in. "141 Harper Street, Annandale please," I retort to the driver; and as the car pulls back into the street, all I can do is stare at his motionless body as we drive away. As soon as he is out of my sight the tears that seem to permanently hover just under the surface can't be held back anymore.   
They flow uncontrollably.

As I pay the driver outside Rosie's terrace, I lethargically make my way towards the house. My tears have stopped, but my face feels inflated and hot - the ultimate consequence of crying hysterically for the past twenty minutes. I am utterly spent. Merely wanting to sneak upstairs to my room and pretend like the last twenty four hours never happened, I look up towards the entrance door and spy Rosie standing wide eyed under the architrave.

Oh great.

I roll my eyes instantly.

"Oh my God Penny, what happened?!" she exasperates as she scans my flushed face and red eyes, her concern obvious. I say nothing as I slide in past her and into the foyer.

Please I just want to get inside.

Without making eye contact, I continue straight up the stairs and I can feel her follow me close behind.

"Penny what's wrong? Please talk to me!"

I make it into my room and head for my perfectly made bed. Kicking off my shoes I recklessly pull the covers down and climb in, covering myself with the blankets to drown out the day.

"Penny what happened?"

I feel the bed dip as she plonks herself beside me. I can feel her gaze boring a hole through the covers begging me to speak to her and the worry that has been placed over her expression for the past few months is there glowing fiercer than ever. I swallow guiltily.

"Nothing Rose. Please I just want to be alone," I sniff, as I know there is no chance of more tears right now, as I really couldn't muster up the strength they require. I'm done.

"Please talk to me," she pushes, placing her hand on my forehead that peaks out from beneath the doona. The same way a worried parent does to her ill child.

She won't let it go until I talk to her.

She never does.

I take an agitated breath and peer out from beneath its protection so I am out in the unshielded open. My thoughts scatter irrationally.

"Nothing really. We kind of had a near moment," I say confused. "Nothing happened. I just... I ... just needed to get out of there," I express as best I can.

That's it?!

Can anyone say overreaction?

"What do you mean a 'near moment'? Did he try something on you? Force you?"

"Nothing like that," I reply dismissingly, tossing my head left to right as the whole scene flashes in my mind. I take another awkward breath. "We almost kissed. I think. I don't know. Maybe not."

I sound crazy. I'm beginning to think it too. Shedding so many tears over something so trivial.

What am I?

An in-experienced teenager?

"I don't know Rose, it's how he makes me feel. He's so intense and closed off. We were about to... and I freaked out!" I try to say it in a way she will understand, but I'm not even sure that I comprehend it. Her warm palm, still comforting me on my forehead, endures one last caress before finding its resting place on the bed beside her. I look up toward her and she's frowning. My heart sinks a tad further at the sorrowful sight before me that again, I seem to have caused.

"Pen, you have been through a lot ok. It probably just reminded you about what you have been through and it flipped you out. It's no big deal. Just call him and explain," she negotiates in her calm and familiar tone.

I shrug and roll my eyes dramatically. "There's no point. He's leaving tomorrow anyway, and I'm not sure I want to talk to him. I did what you said. I went out, had lunch and now I've told you all about it. Mission accomplished!" My reply surprises me. It's harsh and bitchy. I'm clearly taking it all out on Rosie. I turn my entire body onto my side away from her so I don't feel worsened by having to watch her expression alter in receipt of my ill comments, and drag the covers back over my face.

"Please can you just leave me alone?" I add bluntly.

She doesn't reply. I only hear the faint steps on my wooden floor boards across the room, and my door click as it closes shut.

# Chapter Seven

He thinks that I am asleep, so I lay still, not moving a muscle. My eyes are barely open, but I can see him as clear as anything. His tall athletic frame is hunched over the small glass desk in the corner of the room. It's under the window, and the way the light is shining down on him is as heavenly as anything you could see on earth. He's scribbling something on a piece of paper, but I can't see it from this still position without letting him know I'm awake. His hand rises to rest amongst his dark brown hair that rests just underneath his ears - like it does when he is deep in thought. One of the many quirks I know all too well by now. I smile lovingly.

Without warning he turns his gaze directly towards me and I shut my eyes fiercely, hoping he didn't notice my lame attempt to pretend to be sleeping. I hold my breath. I hear his faint footsteps on the bamboo floor and before I can open my eyes, I feel his firm hands on my sides.

"Evan! Stop it!"

His hands are all over my stomach, tickling me constantly and I erupt in a fit of hysterics.

"You little faker! I will teach you," he says with a warm smile.

"Stop it Evan! Stop!"

I can't stop laughing... giggling.. .playful... happy and in love.

I open my eyes with a sudden jerk and sit up abruptly in my bed.

Yes it's my bed.

Quickly scanning the room I realise that I am alone in my too large bed, upstairs in my room in Rosie's terrace, and I immediately sigh with sadness. For a second I thought I was back there with him in much simpler, easier times. Happier times. This new world without him is far harder, more emotional and much too complex a world to live in solely. The self-pity I have been locked in since it all happened has found its home again, quite comfortably I might add. I dramatically pull out my day old bun and shake my hair free, letting it fall messily down my shoulders and back, to somehow remove the feel of his rugged hands all over me.

I make my way downstairs cautiously as I know I have to face Rosie. Apologise. But as I get to the bottom of the stairs I spy a note taped to the front door, like she has done for the past few months since I've been locked away to let me know where she is.

Gone to see Tony, be back later,

thought you might like time alone...

Rose x

I reach for the hand written note and pull it off the door carefully so as not to ruin the timber stain. I sigh heavily... guiltily.

I stumble into the kitchen and glance up at the clock on the wall above the bench. It's now 8.45pm. Heading straight for the fridge door I scrunch Rosie's note up into a ball and toss it into the cane bin beside it. After staring inside at the many contents I decide on a diet Pepsi; as I am not sure I could stomach anything more than that right now. As I crack the can open, I push the door closed with my foot and head over to the bench - playing with the aluminium in my uneasy palms still trying to shake the images of his dark brown eyes grazing over me adoringly.

What. A. Day. Weeks. Months...

Still making an attempt to remove the images from my dream and also not wanting to think about my day with _him_ either - I try to focus on forgetting about all of it. I am not sure how, but I have to find a way.

As I stare grimly over the bench towards the window, the buffet table captures my attention. Rosie has left the lampshade on, like she always does when she leaves the house and just next to it, I notice my phone. Curiously, I wander over to the table and take it prisoner in my hand. I hesitantly swipe open the menu screen and see five missed calls and a single text message flash before me. My eyes widen with intrigue and I take a heavy gulp to prepare for what follows.

Could it have been Jay?

Torn between wanting to read the text and wanting to forget the whole incident - my brain isn't speaking its direction to my body. The same way it's let me down the past twenty four hours and so my fingers are already clicking on the message to open it before I can tell it to stop.

_Jay:_ _I'm not sure what I have done._

_I want to talk to you. Pls pick up._

My heart starts to race again.

He'd really like to talk to me?

He had most of the day to talk to me and he isn't so forthcoming in person.

I touch my finger on the recent calls button and see that it's his previously called number that has tried again five more times.

Should I call him?

I play with the idea in my mind, hovering my finger over his number to perhaps try to explain my rash exit today.

What would I even say?

How could I explain it?

My thoughts are instantly distracted by the same disco tone on my phone as my eyes widen with sheer shock.

It's ringing!

Before I can muster an actual decision, I answer the call before my brain can contemplate ignoring it.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively.

"Penelope?" he questions, sounding completely surprised. "I didn't think you would pick up. I've tried you like four times!"

"Five times," I mumble.

"Yes five times," he replies annoyed before adding much softer. "Why didn't you answer? I thought something may have happened to you."

Why does he care so much about what happens to me?

"I'm home... safe. I took a nap. I only just came downstairs and found my phone sitting here with all the missed calls and your text," I reply automatically and truthfully.

"And?" he questions.

"And what?" I reply.

"I'd like to talk to you."

"We are talking!" I quip back sarcastically.

"I mean face to face, can I come and see you?" His voice is so sincere that it sends a delicious tingle through my body.

"Now?!" I shriek, glancing at the clock that now reads 8.56pm.

"Yes, now," he answers immediately before adding, "If that's alright with you?"

I search for the right words. For something that wouldn't be too rude or stupid. I'm not sure why or what it is, but I can't seem to function properly when he's around.

It's either him or I'm just completely fucked up!

"I'm kind of tired..." I trail off under my breath, and feel instantly culpable for the brush off. He doesn't seem to notice.

"I won't be long."

I shiver and pause again trying to find something more convincing. But with the emotional exhaustion I'm reeling from I simply can't be bothered anymore to refute. "I guess."

I don't hear a goodbye, only the click on the other end of the line and a dial tone.

Shit!

Jay's on his way over here!

It's been at least twenty minutes since Jay called and said he was on his way over, and I've managed to wash my face, reapply my makeup and tie my hair up in a loose knot on top of my head. I move into the lounge room which sites adjacent to the kitchen, and switch on the light. I glance around the room eyeing the suede two seater sofa, and decide to turn on some music to break up the silence.

Yes silence.

In the very short time I've known him he's not one to over share. I fumble the radio on which is located on the bottom shelf of the entertainment unit and lower the sound so it's at a reasonable level.

I am so nervous!

Not long after, I hear a polite knock on the front door.

Taking a deep breath I walk out of the living room towards it and fretfully swing it open towards me. There he stands, in all of his beauty glowing under the porch light. His blue powerful eyes staring at me fiercely and his body still effortlessly dressed in his outfit from our days outing. His smell is a little stronger than before but not overpowering, only making him smell cleaner, fresher and sexier; if that's even possible.

"Come in."

I smile nervously as I position my body to the side, allowing him to enter inside the door past me. The close proximity to my body is electrifying and I find myself automatically breathing in his scent as he passes me.

"Umm, can I offer you something to drink?" I ask awkwardly as I close the door behind him and fumble my hands against my queasy abdomen. A smile hits the corner of his delicate lips as he shakes his head.

"No thank you."

I signal my hand to my left, urging him to follow me into the lounge area I had prepared earlier. I sit down timidly on the furthest side of the sofa and he follows, taking the seat in the opposite end beside me. There's at least a person space between us and I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He eyes me momentarily, as if seeking the right words to say. His forceful gaze gaining more intensity as each second passes by. It's unnerving.

"Thank you for letting me and come see you, I realise it's probably getting late," he starts off his face wracked with indecision.

"It's okay," I shrug.

What do you want?

"I guess I wanted to apologise for today, I didn't want you to think you had to leave."

He's sorry.

He's sorry?

What for?

He didn't do anything!

I look at him puzzled. "You're sorry?" I ask bewildered, mirroring my thoughts. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

He gawks at me with wide astonished eyes.

"The girls who interrupted us. I didn't mean to be rude to you, it's just a part of my work. I didn't want you to feel like you had to leave. I just need to keep work separate from everything else." His eyes look entirely honest as he speaks, showing a little more emotion than usual. It's as if the windows have opened slightly allowing the fresh sincere air to breeze ever so freely through. The view is breathtaking.

"Jay, that's not why I left," I whisper softly. I look at him apologetically, and he immediately responds.

"I don't understand."

I take a deep breath. "Look, I've recently been through something that I haven't really recovered from, and just being alone with you kind of brought it all back to me...." I trail, struggling to find the right words without going into too much detail. I mean, I have only just met this guy, and I was still struggling with the swirling emotions from my earlier dream. "Please don't think it had anything to do with you specifically. It didn't."

He eyes me more intently and in one slow steady move, he slides along the sofa so he is sitting in the vacant spot between us.

Oh no, that wasn't an invitation!

My thoughts panic as my heart races with both the adrenalin and the fear.

"Penelope, I was worried I might have scared you off," he answers softly his eyes still not taking their gaze off me.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs his shoulders like he's a little uncomfortable, but continues. "I was hoping to see you again and I was worried my work might have rubbed you the wrong way. I realise it can be a little confronting, and the way you left, I was worried that you wouldn't want to see me again."

He wants to see me again?

Are you serious?

I decide I need to lay it down the line and be frank. It's now or never. "Jay, that's really sweet. It's just, to be perfectly honest... I just. Can't." I answer with as many words as I can right now. I need to rebuild my shredded soul before I can even think about spending more time with another man; especially one as intense as he has proven to be. Besides, he will go back to where he came from tomorrow, forget all about me and be back in the news with some other model type girl.

He eyes me suspiciously, tilting his head to the side like he is trying to decipher my thoughts. I pray in that moment that he can't.

"What do you mean can't? You physically can't, as in you are seeing someone? Or you won't?"

I squirm at the direct question.

"I'm not seeing anyone," I mumble under my breath and just saying it aloud brings a sick feeling in my throat. I gulp it away before continuing. "I guess when you say it like that... I won't." I look away from him, down toward the sofa. I feel the intensity in his gaze as the air around me is dense and suffocating - making it difficult to breathe. The thrill I feel from his touch quickens my heart rate further, as his delicate fingers grasp the bottom of my chin. He presses firmly, so he is able to tilt my head mere inches so my eyes have no choice but to focus on his. The instant connection between them is immediate. His aim strikes straight through me. It's hard and precise, like a long sword meets its target in one swift move. My pulse is racing too abnormally, like it may rise out of my chest and run screaming for the hills. My body is rigid and completely still, not wanting to make any sudden movements in case my soul is exiled into a complete devastation.

"Why?" he asks so... seductively.

Yes, it's not danger. It's seductive. Sexy .

I realise that it's not something I've experienced before. The sensations aroused in me by him are different to the feelings I had before. All I had ever experienced was comfortable and predictable, which is why the whole revelation devastated me beyond belief. When I am with Jay, it's exciting and severe. Feelings I may have mistaken for fear and him being dangerous, when really it's his sex appeal that is triggering such anxiety. I swallow heavily and don't reply to his question.

"Penelope."

The way my name sounds rolled off his tongue is mesmerising. The same way resident vamp Bill pronounces his lust and love when he says ' _Sookie'_ in True Blood.

"You have the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen in my life."

And no sooner those unbelievable words exit his mouth, his lips press dexterously on mine. My eyes close, as I am not able to comprehend it. The sweet aroma of his body fills me instantaneously, and the taste of his lips is a rare delicacy I haven't tasted before. Mere seconds after our mouths embrace, the kiss reaches its inevitable end. He pauses, a fraction from my mouth and takes a short sharp breath. Before I have any time to process a thought, he presses his lips to mine once more only this time, it's more forceful, desirable and takes me over completely. The music playing softly in the background is dulled only by the sound of my thumping heart pounding away in my chest. At the highest point of ecstasy I can manage in my current state, a painful plea from my permanent scar cries out for help. At that moment, I pull abruptly away from him, covering my trembling lips with my hand protectively.

We sit there gasping for air, both breathing in and out noisily. My head swirling in so many directions that it's hard to make sense of what is going on. Getting into something with someone who is leaving isn't ideal, and for me, isn't the best way for me to try and heal. If I fall for him, I am terrified what the loss will mean once he leaves.

Fall for him?

Am I falling for him?

Such an emotional feeling is torture to think of right now, and for fear of the answer - I choose not to really ask myself the question.

"What the fuck?" he manages under his breath and as I gaze into his eyes, he looks completely vulnerable; open. I smile. He continues his in depth stare, like he is searching me for answers. But no words seem to want to form as I am at a complete loss for what to do.

"I never..." he starts before halting, shaking his head dismissingly. "I mean, that was intense."

I can't help but find his use of his word somewhat amusing and a smirk comes over my originally dazed demeanour.

"Jay, look, I....." Before I can continue, I am silenced by his arctic touch on my lower lip. His skilled second finger strokes it tenderly, like he's trying to soothe the sting left by his kiss. He doesn't relent on his delicate caress which sends a never ending tremor throughout my entire body.

"See me tomorrow," he doesn't ask but orders. "I want to take you out tomorrow." His eyes are burning powerfully, stronger than ever before making me feel defenceless and completely under his spell. Despite the ache throbbing persistently in my chest, I can't seem to word anything to assist its' appease.

"Tomorrow....?" is all I can bear to ask. Uncertain and confused, my pulse still trying to return to its normal speed.

He nods slowly, as he leans towards me carefully pressing his mouth to mine once more.

"Yes. Tomorrow."

# Chapter Eight

The next morning, I eventually decide to get out of bed after spending the last ten hours tossing and turning endlessly. My mind was going over everything in fine detail about Jay's late night call and the kiss. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. Whether it's the kiss itself, or the mere fact that I haven't had one at all in the past three months is uncertain at this point; but I can't seem to deny our connection and the electricity between us. My memory has been reliving the scenes from our very first meeting at The Loft, to our late encounter - almost like a digital picture frame flashing images one to another, on loop unable to stop. As I rise up, dismissing the doona off me in a couple of reckless kicks, I find myself feeling strangely seedy as I sit on the edge of my bed. I take a deep breath and slowly rise to my feet, gently swaying side to side. Staggering one foot in front of the other, I manage my way into the semi lit hall.

In a daze, I continue downstairs and head straight for the kitchen, taking a quick glance toward the front door. Suddenly it's no longer the tragic image of me seeing my love for the very last time, but it's of Jay's cool departure last night.

He left abruptly at the conclusion of our 'moment' and after repeating the words 'tomorrow' to me a few times, we walked to the door in utter silence. When he reached it he placed his hand around my neck sensually, trailing his fingers along my collarbone. He gently dipped his face toward my forehead kissing it possessively, before slipping out of the front door and into the blackened night.

My stomach turns into a knot at the recollection of his exit. The way his icy palm cupped itself around my throat so precisely, lighted a spark deep inside that had never been lit before; and my forehead still tender from the scorching kiss he branded me with. I continue into the kitchen before halting at the entrance. I'm surprised to see Rosie sitting on one of the timber stools sipping on a cup of strong coffee, as the aroma fills the room entirely. I smile awkwardly as she notices me enter. The images of my confusing night with Jay now instantly being replaced by mine and Rosie's argument yesterday. The torment in my mind calls to me in a slight throb and I raise my hand to my temple narrowing my eyes painfully.

I need some Panadol.

I head straight to the overhead cupboard and reach for the pain relief.

"You have a headache?"

Her obvious question breaks the ice in what I realise must prelude to an apology. I close the cupboard behind me, snap two tablets out the packet and place the remainder on the stove top before I turn toward her anxiously.

"I didn't sleep well," I mumble, as I lean my body back up against the counter, purposely keeping my expression soft. "Look Rose I am really sorry for snapping at you yesterday. You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," she answers confidently. "Me either," she smiles at the corner of her mouth shyly. I head over to the bench so that I am facing her perched position on the opposite side and reach my arm out toward hers.

"I'm serious, I'm sorry," I press. "I don't know what I would have done without you these past few months Rose." I take a heavy breath as I try to shut the emotions down as I split second relive those past few months, before I continue. "You have been such an amazing friend and I don't want to lose that."

A tiny tear starts to well in my eye, but I wipe it straight away to stifle the down pour that could follow. I look at Rosie and she seems to have altered her softer expression. She looks guilty and I can't help but wonder what I have done to cause my friend such sorrow.

"Pen, you don't need to apologise and thank me," she pauses, her expression filled as though she's deep in thought. "I've been the best friend I can be and know how to be, that's all."

I feel awful. She obviously feels like she has failed at being my friend since she has tried endlessly to get me to move on. In receipt of her sombre eyes, that I have obviously caused, I am annoyed at myself for being so damn selfish.

"Rosie, I'm serious! I honestly don't know what I would have done without you. Everything you have done for me... I won't ever be able to repay you!"

She reaches for my hand across the counter where it is still clutching the two tablets, and grips her palm so it encases mine firmly. "You don't have to say anything Penny. I just want to get back to normal, that's all."

Her words are honest with a slight hint of heartbreak, which I can only assume is felt by the pain she has seen me endure over the past few months.

"Normal? I can definitely try." I grin as wide as I can and before I know it we are both giggling softly with each other. The way good friends do when they know one another so well, and an instant relief fills me. I honestly don't know what I would do without her. With my parents now so far away and with Maggie so tied into _his_ life, all I really have is Rosie. The thought of my only lifeline being tormented by my hurtful actions literally kills me and I throw my arms around her neck tightly, letting her know how much she means to me. After a few moments silently embracing my friend, I pull away and lean back on my side of the bench, relieved that another weight has finally lifted.

"So, how was Tony last night?" I ask, trying to stifle a 'normal' conversation.

"He was good. I just wanted to give you some space you know."

My mind flicks back to my encounter last night in her absence and my face flushes. As I eye her cautiously, I realise I don't actually feel guilty that this happened last night, but ashamed that she doesn't know. In a strange way, I can't help but see her as a kind of mother figure to me, and it is her house after all.

"You know I heard from Jay again last night," I start, straight to the point knowing that she would instantly put down her coffee and give me her full attention. I was right.

"And.....?"

"He wanted to come over and talk to me after I left in such a hurry," I blush just imagining the following events, and wonder how to go about explaining it. I straighten my bended elbows from the bench and stand up right, letting my hands rest near my stomach so I can continue fidgeting them nervously. "He thought I left because of him..." I trail, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of his comment.

"What do you mean, 'because of him' why would he think that?" she asks screwing up her face to match her tone.

"Well, I told you we almost had a 'moment'," I signal my hands making the inverted comma sign with my fingers.

"Yeah, and...?"

"Well it was interrupted by a group of girls in the street that recognised him. They started screaming at him, and wanting photos or whatever." I roll my eyes and rock to one side leaning my weight on my other leg, still squirming, glancing down at my entwined fingers. "It was at that point that I basically just ran away."

"So you just left without any explanation at all?"

I shrug my shoulders uncomfortably, as the more this situation is said out loud, makes it appear even more ridiculous and over the top. I'm a grown woman who runs at the fear of someone kissing her, and it's not as if it was all that unwanted.

Was it?

"I wandered a little further down the street trying to gather my thoughts, and I just couldn't stay there Rose. I was confused and emotional. I just had to... leave."

She nods respectfully like she's trying to sympathise where I'm coming from, but she doesn't fool me - I don't think she really understands.

"Okay and that somehow led to him coming over?"

"I woke up after you left and he had texted me. Before I could message back he called again and wanted to talk to me," I ramble as I slowly start to head towards the lobby and before I reach it, I turn abruptly to look at her.

I just need to say it.

"He kissed me."

I feel incredibly uneasy saying the words out loud about being kissed by another man. For so long I had only known the touch of one, and it was the only touch I had ever had. The sensation is strange for me, not feel remorseful in any way as its completely unchartered territory. As the thoughts deconstruct in my mind, Rosie's eyes gradually grow considerably larger.

"He kissed you?" she beams excitedly. "Did you kiss him back?"

Did I?

I didn't move away if that's what you are asking!

"I, I think so," I manage to respond.

I immediately start to pace back and forth trying to remove the discomfort I'm reeling from. "I don't know. It just happened all so quickly and I just didn't know what to do. I couldn't move!" I rush the words out of my mouth in despair.

She immediately comes to my aide placing both of her hands on the tops of my shoulders to stop my constant pacing. She brings her warm open gaze to mine.

"Penny, you kissed him back. It's alright, you are allowed to."

Am I allowed to?

Why does it feel so confusing to me then....?

"He obviously likes you." No sooner the words are out of her mouth my eyes are automatically rolling around in their sockets, too noticeably.

"Penny! He does!" she states firmly. "Why would he come all the over here just to apologise for something like that? If he just wanted sex, he either would have been more forceful last night when he was here, or went elsewhere. It's not like he couldn't you know!"

I cringe.

I pull a sour face like I sucked on a lemon, as images of random women fill my head intensely. Of course I'm not that naive. I know he could basically have anyone and probably at any time he wanted. But I instantly wondered how many.

Do I really want to know?

Probably not.

"I mean, did he try anything after the kiss?"

I shake my head in response to her question as her usual push for so much information, is starting to get to me. She has been my parental type figure these past few months, which pained me to say the least. I hated the fact that our once close friendship had turned into this, and this, was her mother tone.

"See. If that's what he wanted you would know about it more surely by now." She drops her hands from my shoulders and lets them fall to her sides.

I do agree somewhat with what she's saying, but I can't help but still feel cautious. I know that mentally I'm nowhere near ready to have that kind of relationship yet, and he's only here for one more day. He leaves tonight. It can't possibly go anywhere so why am I even stressing about it. It's not worth the worry.

"So how was it?" she asks eagerly cutting off my thoughts.

I look at her instantly with an unamused look on my face.

Really?

"The kiss," she urges like I don't know what she means. I roll my eyes.

"Roseeeee..." I continue shaking my head and walk to the stairs, throwing back the Panadol down my dry mouth that I've still held in my sweaty hands this entire time. They slide down roughly, catching on every nodule in my stark throat.

"Hey, you can't hide from me Penny! I will get the gory details out of you!" I hear her faint teasing tone as I head up the stairs and into my room.

A few hours later I find myself back in the kitchen raiding the cupboards for something to eat. Since my earlier conversation in here with Rosie I feel far more relieved that I have gotten some of my confused thoughts off my chest. It also helped that I showered and washed my hair properly, which I hadn't done for quite some time. I even managed to tidy up my closet. I was surprised by how many new clothes were actually in there. Rosie really had gone overboard with spending money on me. She desperately tried everything to get me to snap out of my misery. I had decided on another pair of denim jeans and threw on a loose black tee, which fell to the top of my hip. Since I had washed my hair, I dried it straight with an off centre part, so that my long layer fell across the side of my face to my chin. I almost felt like my old self again.

Almost.

Not being content with any food I look for in the cupboard, I decide on an apple instead. I grab one out of the glass bowl and make my way to the lounge room. Rosie is sitting on the couch watching the entertainment news which is one of her favourite shows. I take up the spot next to her and immediately that intensity washes over me, as I visualise my previous night sitting here with _him_. My heart rate quickens as my memory replays the event to each fine detail. I blush.

"You know, this is where it happened," I tease and nudge her knowingly in her side and take a large bite of my juicy apple sarcastically. She gasps excitedly and we laugh together simultaneously as she prods me back playfully in my stomach.

"Ho," she jokes and we giggle some more.

It feels so amazing to be doing this right now. To be talking to Rosie like she's my best friend, and not my mother or shrink!

The pure joy I actually feel in this moment is so exquisite that I don't want it to end. I never thought I would be here again. Ever.

"Oh my God. Ssh, ssh!"

What's wrong?

Rosie hushes my remaining laughter and reaches for the television remote, turning up the volume. I tear my worried eyes from her and back toward the television and gasp, as I notice a small image of Jay flash on the screen before me. I stare at it intently, immediately ceasing my noise in surprise.

"And in other celebrity news, Jay Ryker from very popular rock band 'The Cray' is currently here in Sydney on some promotional business, where he has been snapped with a mystery woman in The Rocks yesterday."

My mouth wide open in amazement and horror, for a second I think this can't be me.

Maybe he was with someone else.

But before I have time to think any further, the reporter disappears from the screen to show an image of him with his mystery lady.

"Oh shit!" I let out in utter disbelief.

The tender touch of his hand delicately placed on my chin. Our faces so close. Our mouths just inches apart. The event I so clearly remember before my hasty exit is staring at me - in picture form on the television. The image clearly shows Jay's face, but since it's taken from behind me you can't tell that the woman in question is me. I sigh a little relief as I realise no one will know that I am the un-named woman in the photo, but I am still stunned beyond conviction. I can't speak.

"Who is this mystery woman spotted with 'The Cray' front man? We received a no comment from the bands spokesperson today, but we will keep you posted with any developments on this Entertainment News story. And in other related news, the Princes of Egypt bassist has just announced that he and his long term partner are expecting a baby..."

Rosie immediately mutes the sound from the television, speechless, only staring wide eyed at the now silent screen. I feel my mouth go painfully dry from being left open for so long, vulnerable to the air around us. I lick my lips together to moisten it, still staring completely unnerved.

"I can't believe you were on TV!"

Are you kidding me?

"That's all you took from that story Rose. Seriously?!" I question with annoyance, glaring at her still shocked and uncomfortable.

"Come on Penny, you have to see the funny side of this," her voice is filled with sincere humour, but all I feel is irritation. I stand abruptly and walk back into the lobby, stamping my feet with each and every step dramatically.

"Come on Pen, it's not that bad," she coerces from behind me.

I suddenly stop and turn to look at her. "Not that bad?!" I shriek in astonishment. "Not that bad?" I repeat again.

She doesn't reply to my question, only stares at me eagerly, probably hoping I will vomit up my emotions for her to clean up.

Mother Rosie has appeared.

I roll my eyes.

"I am so confused already about the last couple of days and now this?" I wave my arms around in the air, trying to further confirm my rant. "I don't even know what's going on!" I complain.

"Penny, seriously, it's not that big a deal. You said yourself he's leaving tonight anyway and you won't see him again," she rationalises. "Besides, you couldn't even tell it was you in the picture."

She's right.

You definitely couldn't tell it was me, and how many people I know would actually be watching the entertainment news on a Sunday morning.

Not many.

I begin to wonder if my overreaction is me not wanting to address my feelings for him. I don't seem to define anything that has occurred these past few days and with him leaving tonight, only makes the whole thing worse to try to rationalise.

"You're right." I sigh.

"I know," she answers confidently, but as soon as I look at her she smiles a prominent cheeky grin.

"Oh, do you now?!" I sarcastically respond.

We both stand there for a moment and smile irrationally. As all the built up angst and tension that has filled our Annandale terrace over the past few months, is starting to evaporate. It's being released into the air so that we can finally move forward and onto the next phase of our lives. Me no longer wanting to hold Rosie back, and her not wanting me to deprive myself of a normal happy existence. As we find a small comfort in looking at each other fondly, my relaxed thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. She immediately turns towards it and reaches for the brass handle, pulling it open. She is startled. She runs her wide eyes over the visitor seductively before glancing over her shoulder to look at me. Without her even speaking a word, I know who must be at the door. It's him.

"J-Jay. How nice to see you, would you like to come in?" she asks excitedly as she moves her body side on, inviting him to enter. I stand frozen, absorbing every word. Every sound.

"No thank you." His cool monotone sends an adrenalin rush right through me, and my heart quickens at the sound of his voice. "Is Penelope here?"

Rosie glances discreetly over her shoulder, her eyes speaking silently to mine. I raise my brows high with anticipation as I await her response. "Yes she is, do you want to wait out here for her?" she asks sardonically, seemingly annoyed with his disinterested tone. I roll my eyes.

"Yes."

Sitting back listening to him speak to someone else when I am not faced with his intense eyes, he comes across as quite arrogant. It's the way he sounds when his windows are closed. I refer to the way his mood changes with each and every sentence he has spoken to me since I met him. He is so closed off in so many ways but when he gives you even the slightest peek inside his soul, it's intoxicating, heavenly and completely infallible.

"I will let her know you are here," she replies as she smiles cheekily again and gently closes the door. She immediately takes two eager steps towards me and grabs my arms firmly. "Oh my God Penny, he's so hot!" she whispers excitedly. "He's a little rude though," she continues discreetly. Before opening her mouth and miming to me, 'so hot!' I roll my eyes and she giggles softly. She tenderly kisses me on my cheek and frees me from her grasp.

I take a deep breath and gently pull at my top, fidgeting with my appearance as I regain some kind of composure. Failing most likely. Gently and slowly I pull the handle on the door, until I am faced with him standing on the porch before me. He turns instantly and that too familiar dense air crashes in on us, barrelling forcefully like a tidal wave. I start taking shorter sharper breaths trying to keep my heart at a steady pace. His eyes striking right into mine and the mesmerising blue looks like sparkling diamonds in the light outside. The colour even more beautiful, more stunning than I remembered the previous night. I feel his gaze reach me, right into the centre of my core and it's unsettling, new and intense all at the same time. He smiles, radiantly bringing him to life.

"Penelope," he acknowledges, like there is no other words to say right now. I concur.

"Jay," I reply smiling sweetly. "Would you like to come in?" I ask a little awkwardly whilst slightly turning my body on my side to invite him in.

He stares at me for a moment taking his time before answering my invitation. "Mmmm, I was hoping I could take _you_ somewhere today, if you will let me?"

Oh my.

My thoughts immediately imagine his hotel room and exactly _where_ he would _take_ me! I am possibly overreacting, but his voice and eyes strike this arousal of danger and fear in me that I'm still adjusting to.

"Where do you want to take me?" I question child-like, barely a whisper.

He leans right over towards me so his face is only inches from mine and I stop breathing. "It's a surprise," he answers sexily low, as I feel the sweet breeze of his breath on my mouth as his words escape. I inhale it to give me oxygen again. My heart is racing fast, bouncing almost out of my chest and down the street. I immediately recoil, not ready for anything too emotional or physical at this point - despite what I may be feeling.

"Surprise...?"

"Hey, don't worry. I know you are fragile," he says tenderly and unbelievably warmer than he has ever spoken to me before. "I will be gentle."

Oh my.

He smirks sexily.

Oh he so knows what he does to women...

My good conscious shakes her head at me not to fall for such bullshit, but my body follows its own orders when I'm in his presence. I know that it doesn't matter what my conscious wants to tell me, it won't be heard in any shape or form. I can feel it frowning at my conclusion.

You're on your own, it quips.

He carefully raises his hand and takes a delicate hold of my wrist, tugging it gently, motioning me to walk with him to the waiting taxi. His touch sends the usual messages to my body as it does every time his skin makes contact with mine. Its then I notice in all of his touch, he never takes my hand. It's never palm to palm contact. The observation strikes me as a tad odd, but genuine. I don't think much more of it, but can only follow my owners lead to the awaiting vehicle; like a lost puppy who has finally found its loving owner.

# Chapter Nine

After the short taxi ride, that felt much longer in reality as we spent most of the ride in silence. Again! We arrive at King Street Wharf in Darling Harbour. He slides out of the car, swoops on his dark aviators and again holds out his forearm for me to hold onto for support.

Hmm never his hand, my thoughts annoyingly point out again.

We walk down the arcade section of the wharf along the strip of cobblestone pavers that lead from the main street to the popular water front. The area is drizzled with restaurants and pubs, and is a local breeding ground for socialites and locals on a Sunday - especially at this time of the morning, when late breakfasts are almost as common as the late night festivities that lead to them. We walk briskly keeping our 'safe' distance apart and I follow Jay's lead to the waterfront where there are many boats floating patiently. I notice that he keeps his head down, looking only at the timber wharf; I assume to avoid any interruptions like those girls yesterday. It's strange; in the time I've known him I've never looked at him like the celebrity he so obviously is. I've only ever seen him as a boy. A regular, yet damn attractive guy, that seems to have some kind of magnetic pull on me. Watching the way he paces briskly across the wharf without taking in the stunning scenery like other normal tourists, seems a little absurd. But I guess in _his_ life, it's pretty necessary if he wants to keep some things personal.

Maybe he wants to keep me just for him?

He may not want to share me with the rest of the world....

I smile.

He keeps his fast pace until we finally reach a small, yet expensive looking yacht settled into the dock. You see these kinds of boats all the time in the harbour. I don't know anything at all about them, but it's has a shiny pearl body with dark tinted windows and looks really modern and expensive. It's like one you would see in a music video where bikini clad models dance scantily with the artist, and I tug at my top awkwardly just imagining _him_ in that scene. We are met with a man in a matching white polo shirt and trousers on the dock beside the yacht, and he grins toward us warmly.

"Mr Loft I presume," he says professionally, nodding his head to confirm our arrival. I roll my eyes at the inside joke Jay appears to keep pulling on me; flushing inside that I probably won't ever live it down. He steps up over the edge of the boat so he is now aboard the luxury cruiser and again, holds out that all familiar forearm for support. I oblige, reaching my hand up toward it and take a deep breath as I juggle the thrill of our skin to skin contact, and the ill coordination of the swaying boat. I'm successful.

"Thank you."

He doesn't respond, and I can feel his intense gaze burning me through his glasses. It sends a shiver down the very centre of my spine. He leads me toward the front of the yacht, just ahead of the main cabin, where there is a navy blanket setup on the deck with several oversized cushions scattered on top. He motions me to sit down and I do so without words - sitting cross legged on the woollen blanket. He follows my lead propping down next to me with his legs straight out in front, crossing them at his ankles, revealing the same combat boots he wore the previous day. He shuffles around before leaning back so he is lying beside me perched on his elbow.

"A harbour cruise?" I ask rhetorically.

"Well, you can't make any quick exits on me today," he oozes unemotionally and for a second I gulp in fear.

I can't run from him!

I suddenly feel the blood rush to the surface of my head as a slight panic washes over me. Before I can think about it any further by imagining me getting up and jumping off the boat and onto the wharf; I feel the yacht slowly slip away from the edge of the dock.

Damn it.

He smiles. For a second I think he can read my manic mind, but I shake my head trying to disperse the worried thoughts and images of the crazy woman galloping down the street away from him.

"So have you done this before?" I ask shoving my worry deep inside.

"Gone on a harbour cruise? Or taken someone on one?"

Oh he is straight to the point.

I squirm uncomfortably. I was initially asking if he'd been on a cruise, but now he's mentioned it, I can't help but be curious.

Has he brought anyone else on a boat like this?

Is this his game?

"Mmmm both I guess," I manage to mumble, embarrassed by my honesty.

"No," he answers bluntly, as he removes his aviators and places them on the blanket in front of us; revealing his intense but exquisite feature. They are just so damn beautiful. "To both questions," he finishes with much more warmth and openness.

I blush.

The next couple of hours we spent sitting on the deck, eating the selection of random dishes the waiter brought to us - picnic style on the floor. We managed to have random chats about Sydney and what he thought of The Loft; which wasn't without a few mocking remarks about my drunken behaviour I might add. It actually _does_ seem like I will never live it down. Rosie was even mentioned and how he thought she didn't like him.

If only he knew...

I smile.

By mid-afternoon the tension has reached an inevitable peak and the air coagulates every minute that passes. The captain had taken us on a tour of his vessel he had affectionately named 'Harlow' after his late grandmother. He had told us a story of how his grandfather had always dreamed of taking her on a boating adventure, and had spent his entire life trying to do so. After he passed away, the captain eventually got into sailing and she was the first person he took aboard. I had listened intently as Jay had asked many questions about the safety, technical aspects and even the design and engineer. He really is quite intelligent. I feel a little guilty to be surprised by this, but he is artistic, articulate, and seems to take pleasure in gaining new knowledge. When he is unguarded he is addictive. I could honestly watch him all day, as he glides expertly around the boat like he has done so all his life. He just oozed confidence and self assurance that I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from him. He still uses his cool, monotone voice but I'm beginning to see that it's a wall. A mechanism. Something he has devised to keep himself at a safe distance. Protected from what exactly I had no idea, but perhaps he had felt an emotional break similar to the one I had suffered through. Similar to the wall I had built around myself to protect me from ever feeling pain again. Only my wall, was literally the four walls around me hiding away in my room of solitude for months. But in his world and his profession, such extreme isolation would not be possible. I begin to wonder what torment has caused him to be so closed off emotionally and wonder if perhaps we could help each other through the earlier heartaches we may have in common.

I continue to follow him and the captain around the boat deep in my run away speculations, when we finally reach the front of the yacht. At this point of the vehicle you honestly feel like you are a queen at sea. The way the water surrenders itself willingly as the vehicle runs seamlessly through the water; the wind swaying your hair gently making you feel so powerful yet serene all at the same time. It's an uplifting feeling. One I wasn't expecting; and I suddenly feel like Kate Winslett from the famous scene in Titanic. I beam.

"Will that be all Mr Loft?" the captain asks kindly, interrupting my movie moment. I roll my eyes hearing that word again out loud.

"Yes thank you, that was very interesting," he replies formally; before adding, "very enjoyable," with heightened emphasis. No doubt due to his in joke he just loves to tease me with apparently. I hold in any form of sarcastic retaliation.

As the captain leaves us alone at the very front of the yacht, I keep my gaze out onto the ocean. It really is spectacularly beautiful and in this very second, I actually feel happy. A gleam comes over me in every way as I relish in the feelings that are overtaking me right now. I tilt my head back and take a deep breath, allowing the breeze to fill my chest completely.

"Are you having a good time?"

I open my eyes slowly, turning my gaze to his and nod, grinning like an excited child at Christmas time.

"It's so... mesmerising," I manage, gloating at the blissful state I'm in. I wouldn't have thought it possible I could feel like this.

His gaze begins to burn into mine more fiercely and I can feel the small space between us closing in cautiously. His hand rises to the top of my head as he tangles his fingers sensitively in my hair. Ever so slowly, with all the dense air crushing us, he sensually runs his fingers down through the strands until he reaches my flushed cheek. He slides the loose hairs off the side of my face and firmly, yet softly curls his palm wholly on my skin. The distance between us closes more rapidly now and as our lips are moments from touching, I close my eyes wanting to feel the electricity. My body is still and motionless, unwilling to move from his hold; and for the first time my brain agrees with the pull.

I want this to happen.

I need it.

The instant spark is electrifying as our lips possess one another, and the adrenalin seeks new heights in my body. As our mouths continue to interlock, tasting and exploring each other in new ways, I gently raise my hand to rest on his lower back - allowing the feel of his skin to smoulder into my palm through his thin shirt. My weight shifting towards him eagerly, wanting this contact between us. His body feels strong beneath my subtle touch, the iciness of him seething through his shirt and onto my now sweaty hand. I feel his thumb on my cheek grip a little tighter, as the kiss deepens ferociously. The rising arousal inside me is unique and my brain doesn't understand how to keep up. Moments pass and still unable to process a thought, I feel our kiss slow. We both carefully unlock our lips, his fingers still embraced protectively in my hair.

Wow.

As my surroundings begin to appear coherently once more, I inhale quickly, rapidly trying to gather some kind of composure. The kiss was...

Unbelievable!

I open my eyes and now welcome his striking stare which I am delighted to see, is open. The windows are wide open and willing me inside. I gasp and further deepen my gape into his, relishing this raw moment between us. I feel his breath shorten as he inhales quicker than before, and I smile at this more vulnerable side I am currently witnessing - perhaps _causing_. He leans in swiftly and gently presses his closed mouth to mine once more, pecking me briefly on the lips, our eyes still unguarded. As he manages to get his breathing back to a steadier pace, I can see he is wracked with indecisive thoughts - similar to his expression he showed after our first kiss at Rosie's.

"What are you doing to me?" he breathlessly questions. My heart skips a beat in receipt of his sexy remark and my body melts beneath me into a puddle on the floor.

"What do you mean?" I ask still breathless.

"I never thought..." he pauses again, still gazing at me powerfully. I smile sweetly, feeling overwhelmed by the events myself. He raises his hand from my cheek that's embedded in my hair and begins softly stroking it from the tip of my head down to my chin and back again. It feels amazing. Amazing to have someone this close to me again. The ache in my heart is still faintly throbbing, reminding me of the scar that still holds its place firmly across my wounded muscle, but in this moment, I don't give it the usual attention I have in the past. I can't.

"It was a nice surprise," I let escape from my mouth, my lips still stinging from our embrace.

"What the cruise or the kiss?" he asks me coolly and emotionally. I flush at his honesty and I instantly smirk.

"Both."

He returns my warm smile, as he continues caressing my hair. "Good."

Quite boldly, I bury my head into his chest as I feel his grasp stay firmly on my head. I am in too much ecstasy to even think about ruining how I'm feeling right now, by over analysing and over thinking the situation. I simply gaze out toward the harbour, taking in the stunning scenery of the bridge and still waters that frame this near perfect day.

I am not sure how long we stand there in our passionate embrace, but before long, I begin to notice the sun is not shining as brightly as it had previously. A sudden sadness starts to creep into my elated state that this day, and this feeling, would be coming to a close.

His flight leaves tonight.

I won't see him again.

My body stiffens and I inhale deeply to settle my realisations. I no sooner feel Jay's immediate response as he tightens his arm around my waist and leans his chin on the top of my head.

"Are you okay?"

I shake my head trying to disperse the down change in my emotions and force a tiny smile. This day has been unbelievable and more perfect than I would ever have imagined a day could be again. I begin to feel overwhelmed with the possibility of me shrinking back into my depressive state. This is what I was worried about. I was concerned about opening up to someone, finally feeling _something,_ to then have it torn away - like the very event that lead me here to begin with. I am still too fragile emotionally to handle it and as the evaluation floods, it's almost too much for me to bear. I try to blink away the thoughts and try to change the direction of my mind, anything. The last thing I need is to break down like some needy, pathetic scorned woman who is desperate to hold onto a man.

He's not even mine to hold onto.

I keep burying away the thoughts in the hope that I can hold it together. My worry is interrupted as I feel him take a deep breath; my head gently rising up on his chest as he inhales.

Perhaps he is thinking the same thing too.

That he doesn't want this day to end.

I'm far too scared to move my gaze towards his. I just relish in this moment as I lean into this toned chest, enjoying the security I feel wrapped in his arms. It's just right.

"Excuse me Sir," I hear the captains voice fill our blissful air. "We are almost back to the wharf and I am letting you know as you requested."

I feel Jay's arms further grip around me, until he is squeezing me into every part of his body. "Come, we need to move into the cabin," he whispers tenderly in my ear.

Noooo, I don't want to let go.

My inner thoughts whine like a spoilt baby is being stripped of their favourite toy, but the rational part of my brain knows this is far too clingy behaviour considering I barely know him. I unwillingly lift my head from his chest, subtly inhaling his sweet masculine scent one last time. He shifts his weight to stand upright, but his hand that had previously been caressing my hair, moves to my warm cheek once more. As his palm cups me delicately, he leans down and plants a swift kiss on the top of my forehead. It stings beautifully. I shiver.

As he lowers his hand, he delicately drags his fingertips along the side of my face all the way down my neck, shoulder and arm, until his seductive touch reaches my wrist. He wraps his fingers around it and gently pulls so I follow him - sending my heart into a flutter like a giddy teenager. He leads me across the pine deck and I glance down at the navy blanket we had dined on for hours earlier. I sigh. We finally reach the main cabin where the captain had shown us through not long before and my eyes scan the room. The cabin floor is the same polished timber, with a black dense rug in the middle. Around the edges of the room there are white leather style bench seats, curved seamlessly to flow with the oval shape of the walls. Just above them, the same dark tinted windows I visually remember when I was standing on the wharf earlier, so black in colour - you couldn't see inside at all. Jay is standing motionless beside me, still gripping my wrist tightly. Securely. Protectively.

Not my hand _,_ my conscious notes to me.

No, not my hand _,_ my own thought echoes back in annoyance.

We stand there stiff and silent; and a sudden image of our near perfect moment is in stark contrast to what is happening now. His body language is back to it closed off, intense manner and I immediately frown that the more open Jay has gone back into hiding. In a daze I find myself drawn to watch the wharf where we were docked at earlier. As it gradually comes closer and closer, and this amazing day, further and further away from me; I suddenly notice the swarms of people. My eyes begin to widen with horror as I see just how many people are waiting at the dock where our yacht is about to berth. I notice him reach for his aviators with his free hand, you know, the hand that isn't gripping me so fiercely as I begin to process the amount of individuals waiting there.

Are they waiting there for him?!

For us?

I scan my eyes through the masses and right at the edge of the dock, at the very front there are half a dozen casually dressed men who oddly stood out to me. Some were wearing baseball caps, and others disguised beneath sunglasses, but one thing was common. They were all holding cameras. Huge. Lens. Cameras!

Paparazzi maybe?

I suddenly dismiss the word as soon as I think it, as the whole thing sounds too ridiculous for me to consider. But as I drift my gaze back toward Jay and his now tenser demeanour, to the sea of people waiting on the wharf, plus the men with the large cameras - it suddenly doesn't seem so absurd. I am speechless. Scared.

How am I going to get through them?

I start to panic. The images spawn across the television earlier this morning start to replay in my anxious mind and I realise this isn't a fantasy at all. This is his reality. My eyes dart around the cabin and look around the yacht for some kind of exit strategy. My instincts like always tell me to run away, that this is too intense for me to handle at the moment; but there is nowhere to go. Like he had teased earlier, I have nowhere to run. He lets go of my wrist as he strides cautiously toward the captain. I can't hear what he is saying but the captain nods, seemingly agreeing with his request. The captain no sooner heads outside the yacht and onto the deck as I watch, unable to move, as Jay takes his place beside me once more; his firm grasp securely around my wrist. The sea of people start to scream out in unison, meshing all of their words together to create incoherent noise as soon as the captain hits the outer deck. Lights flash in his direction, as I notice the men holding the cameras triggering away relentlessly. The captain raises his arms in the air signalling them to be quiet, and also shielding his face from the continual barrage of light.

"Jay!"

I hear someone scream solo from the crowd, but I can't make out who it was.

"Our guests were dropped off at an earlier dock and are no longer aboard. Please," he lies, signalling them to lower their onslaught. Realising he wasn't their target, they temporarily oblige and the crowd lower their screeches. After a few minutes, the captain goes about his business on the deck, assumedly to try and sell his story.

What a drama.

The cameramen haven't moved from their prime positions and are still lingering around the wharf. One seems to be on his phone, another one lighting up a cigarette. The twenty or so people have dispersed slowly, but still hover around the vicinity of our location. Jay still hasn't moved or motioned anything to me since he took his place beside me; only staring rigidly at the scenes displayed outside the yacht and a dangerous air accompanies him. After a few more minutes, I nervously break the silence.

"How are we going to get out?" I whisper softly.

"We can't wait much longer. Our driver will be here soon," he responds, the previous spark so evident earlier has definitely been extinguished.

"What? Out there?" I ask shakily, nervous at the prospect of having to move through the people.

Holy shit!

I can't do this.

He doesn't answer me.

Obviously Pen, what a stupid question.

Of course we have to exit out there!

We are on a boat!

We still. Haven't. Moved. A majority of the crowd has moved their way around the wharf but they are still within distance, and I can't help but feel it would only take one to notice us before the rest came barrelling in. The thought alone terrifies me. I can see two photographers clearly, but they have moved to the other side of the dock - the opposite side of where we need to escape to. Just as I assess the people waiting for us I have no more time to prepare. I feel a gentle tug on my wrist and a brisk tone accompanying it.

"Let's go."

He pulls firmly ensuring I follow him as I try to keep my body as close to his side as I can, praying he will shield me from all the fuss we may encounter. We reach the cabin deck and both simultaneously step our feet over the edge onto the wharf, before I start to hear it. Screaming. Yelling. High pitched and unyielding sounds, all tangling into overbearing noise. Not being able to take it, I close my eyes tightly and bury my head into his ribs. Matching his pace and keeping glued to his side allowing him to lead me through this overwhelming situation.

"Jay! Photo!"

"Hey what's your ladies name?"

"What's your name?!"

"Please miss photo!!"

"Ryker!"

I feel someone grab harshly at my shirt until I hear a faint rip.

What the fuck?!

"My shirt!" I squeak automatically as I feel Jay crush me to his side.

"Don't fucking touch her!" he brutally snaps.

In my darkness, all I feel is his electric body against mine, the blistering noise and questions surrounding me are like a blur. A nightmare. That isn't really happening. Our legs moving so fast now that my breath quickens with the rise of my heart rate, the exercise a welcome task to my previously relaxed body. I'm out of shape. I used to work out every day at my local gym but haven't done so for months. It shows. I'm breathless as I struggle to keep up, and just when I can't think I can take it anymore, we stop. I barely open my eyes so I can see where we are and a swarm of more black is directly in view.

Our driver?

With the noise still thrashing in my ears, he pulls down on my wrist and almost pushes me through the door - flinging himself in straight after me. He falls awkwardly, almost ending up on top of me. Almost. As he slams the door shut the driver screeches off, his tyres drowning out the screaming and chanting to a welcomed silence.

It's over.

I readjust myself so I am sitting up in my seat and attempt to get my breathing to a steadier pace. I glance up slowly towards him. He is still wearing his sunglasses, yet I can see his face is frozen; not giving anything away. My mind urges me to break the silence, but I can't. Not yet. I don't want to. He pulls out his phone from his tight jean pocket and begins dialling someone's number. I listen intently and wonder who the hell he could be calling.

"Amy!"

Amy?

Who the hell is Amy?

"There were paparazzi outside the dock waiting for us," he says angrily, his American accent edgy as it sends a chill down my spine.

"Did you explain to them?"

He is starting to sound infuriated. There's a silence from him and all I can hear is a slight muffle on the other end of the phone.

Amy _,_ my conscious reminds me.

"Well you obviously didn't!"

I endure more silence before he hastily turns over his shoulder taking a grave peek towards me, his lips in a tense line.

"For fuck's sake Amy, she wouldn't have!" he almost screams. I immediately flush.

Did she insinuate that I called them?

Is she serious?

I wouldn't even know how to do that?

Who to call?

Who the fuck does she think she is? This... Amy?!

I am agitated. My emotions are so heightened going from one extreme to the other in the last few days that it's no wonder I can't seem to make any sense of it all. Of anything really.

"Just make sure the flight is under control!"

He slams his phone into his lap and sighs, obviously and loudly; tossing his head back into the seat behind him. I gaze obliviously out the window, not seeing - only trying to distain any further awkwardness or discomfort and risk any unwanted conversing. Especially while he is so annoyed. I keep my eyes focused on the moving landscape until I see us turn into an underground car park. There is a security gate up ahead and Jay automatically leans his long slender arm out of his window and punches in a number on the keypad. It makes a beeping sound and as he settles back into his seat, the gate slowly starts to rise. I gulp nervously.

"W-where are we going?" I manage to slip shakily out of my mouth.

"My hotel."

As we approach a nearby elevator in the middle of the dark and desolate garage, we halt. He opens the door and hops out promptly before waiting there with his bent elbow, like he has familiarly done for me before. As soon as I am standing beside him his arm drops suddenly and he slams the car door placing his hand onto my lower back and motioning me around the rear of the vehicle. I watch in despair as the vehicle takes off, doing a u-turn to head back to the security gate we entered through, ultimately leaving us. _Alone_. The elevator doors open and I automatically step inside the tiny room feeling him close behind me. As soon as they close he removes his shades, like it's a daily routine he has inbuilt into his senses and the reflection of the closed mirrored doors show us standing stiffly beside one another. I swallow loudly in the silent space enclosing us. Before I have time to look further into his reflection, the elevator halts and the doors ping open. He again reaches for my wrist gripping his fingers around it tightly, his touch sending those familiar chills all over my body. As we step onto the plush gold carpet we are faced with a suite door; as the number '1001' in a bronze plated plaque glows boldly before me. I gulp.

Oh my God this is his room.

What am I doing here?

What is he expecting?

He slides the key card into the slot below the red stagnant light and it ignites to a bright green - blazing positively. He carefully places the card into his pocket and reaches for the handle, dropping his firm grasp on my wrist and pushing open the door. I gasp.

# Chapter Ten

As I take timid close steps into the lustrous suite, I am overwhelmed by its daunting size and extravagance. The entrance leads to a huge room where an oversized cream leather sofa sits grandly in the centre. Copious turquoise and silk gold cushions rest elegantly in the corner of its dense sides; a zebra-print rug providing a buffer between the sofa and the plush carpet that extended from the hall. I keep walking, slowly absorbing the mere lavishness of the suite, a room I had never imagined I would ever be present in. My gaze settles on the adjacent floor to ceiling windows that stretch from each end of the room. In a mindless daze my body drifts towards them where I am struck by the amazing view. One hundred and eighty degrees of Sydney at my feet. The expansive harbour framed by the bridges bold structure, the many boats and ferries floating away in the deep blue water. I take a few deep breaths taking in such a mind blowing view of my home city, where I feel flawed to witness its beauty from such a privileged position.

"What's _she_ doing here?" a female voice asks bluntly.

I spin around suddenly to see a tall, willowy woman with black curly hair and fair skin staring at me with her mouth wide open. The tight black jeans and flimsy concert tee offering an unwanted view of her perfect lean figure; and stunning green eyes that only glowered angrily in my direction.

"Amy, this is Penelope," Jay's familiar tone enters my ears, momentarily snapping me out of my awkward stare. The woman eyes me up and down critically making me squirm and I manage a polite, yet forced smile through closed lips. She snorts before looking away.

"You brought her here?" she asks unamused. "After everything? Have you lost your mind?"

What's her problem?

He seems to ignore her snapping remark.

"What the fuck happened today?" he scolds, his long pale fingers taking position on his right hip.

"How am I supposed to know? I can't control _everything_!" Her voice is firm and she abruptly turns to look at me with her pronunciation of 'everything'. "Besides, I told you the paps were out looking for you while you were here. You shouldn't have gone out! Like I told you _not_ to! This is not my fault Jay. It's yours!" She edges her voice loudly whilst reprimanding him with her second finger, the same way a mother would discipline her child; but there was _no way_ this attractive woman was his parent. She had to be around the same age as me, which I couldn't help but fidget uneasily as I took in her stunning appearance and what she may be to him.

"Can we talk about this later?" he doesn't ask, but angrily demands through clenched teeth.

I am uncomfortable. I shouldn't be here. She casts him one final stern gaze before turning away as he demanded, stomping with annoyance to the far side of the room, past us, still reeling with anger. As she slides through one of the doors and disappears behind it, she slams it shut behind her. I stare at the closed door for a moment still trying to get my thoughts straight until finally meeting his gaze.

"Sorry about that," he manages.

I stare at him, motionless, trying to find the right words to respond. But truth be told I'm not sure I am alright. I'm confused. Lost. Unable to put any emotions into a response, let alone the right one. After a few moments of buzzing thoughts I automatically respond without knowing what will come out.

"Who is she?"

"Oh," he shakes his head and throws his phone on the nearby sofa. "That's my assistant." He fumbles his hands into his tight pockets on his skinny jeans uncomfortably.

His assistant?!

His assistant.

Not girlfriend...?

Lover...?

Sex Partner?

Do they have sex?

Questions running through my already clouded mind.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he starts coolly. "That shouldn't have happened," he adds bluntly, shaking his head and moving his eyes to the floor.

What shouldn't have happened?

Our date?

The kiss?

Everything?

My mind scatters. The worry about him realising the whole day has been a mistake and that I'm not worthy company floods me. My eyes begin stinging as the tears that have seem to hover just below the surface feel finally ready to make their long awaited escape.

"I don't know how they were tipped off," he mumbles.

I sigh with slight relief.

He isn't talking about me.

Suddenly the visions of the screaming crowd, the photographers, and the rush of urgency come back in flashes. As I shake my head to release the images scattering urgently though my mind I notice he is standing right in front of me. The air around me as he comes into focus, feels suffocating yet again. The energy between us building at a rapid rate. I fidget uncomfortably. Confused with all of the emotions running through my body, my mind and my fragile soul. He raises both of his hands so they meet my shoulders and I shiver with the feeling of his touch through my loose tee. His grasp is so cold, yet so warm all the same time.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he offers considerately. I glance away from him and all I can manage is a shake of my head. In that moment, I try to gather my thoughts. I try to make sense of everything that has happened. All of this excitement, the danger, and the uncertainty of it all is going to end so soon with him leaving tonight. The pure bliss I felt earlier is instantly shattered. The realisation that's beginning to sink in is far too much for me to deal with and I decide I need to protect what is left of my heart before it's too late.

It is too late.

I need to leave. I look up at him cautiously, the resolve in my mind clear - until my eyes reach his. He's facing the open windows that span across the room and the reflection of the light streaming through make his eyes look like crystals. They are breathtaking. An ache throbs loud in my chest as the wound tears abruptly open.

It is far. Too. Late.

"I think it's best if I just leave," I stumble genuinely out of my mouth. His glowing eyes widen, but he's body stays still. He stares at me for a moment like he is deep in his own buzzing thoughts, before clearing his throat subtly.

"You don't have to go. My flight isn't for a few more hours."

"I know, but...." I start, not knowing what else to say.

"Is this about Amy? I will handle her later," he interjects firmly, but I can't help but focus on the word 'handle.'

"It's not about that," I dismiss as I glance down towards the floor.

Why is something so easy just so damn awkward.

I barely know him!

Before I risk him raising my chin to look into his burning soul searching gaze, I raise it confidently and try to blink away his beauty before me. "I have so much going on in my head right now. This whole thing is just so crazy," I finally blurt.

"I don't know how they were tipped off," he replies under his breath, the annoyance evident.

"Look that's not your fault, none of this is. I just can't get my head around everything that's happened and I'm already trying to deal with other stuff. And..."

And what?

I don't want to get anymore attached to you since you fly out of the country soon, leaving me behind further tattered and completely emotionally wrecked.

"Please... stay."

He interrupts my thoughts as he gently squeezes his fingers on the very peak of my shoulder.

Stay and what?

Have sex with him!

I shove my conscious' remarks way down into my gut, so I can manage to keep myself somewhat composed. The air around us is so thick, building with each and every second that passes; if I wait much longer, I may pass out. I think I _know_ why he wants me to stay, his eyes are burning their intention into mine. But I can't. I won't.

"I can't."

I don't want to stay and get into a situation where I have to tell him I can't sleep with him!

That I'm not that kind of girl.

I don't care if he thinks it's an overreaction or immature of me. I'm not that woman.

Before I realise it, the words escape from my mouth mirroring my thoughts precisely. "I'm not a one night stand kind of girl Jay."

Oh. My. God.

Did I just say that out loud?

I cringe at the honest words that flowed so freely. I didn't even recognise my voice. It was so certain, so mature, so made up! I'm slightly impressed with myself, despite feeling completely mortified at the same time. His eyes continue to search mine and I notice his mouth turn slightly up in the corners. He licks his delicate lips and to my amazement, he doesn't laugh at me.

"I know," is all he whispers.

But the idea that he agrees with what I said sends my body into overdrive.

He knows?!

What's he saying? What's he not saying?

I look up at him trying desperately to read his face, his eyes, his body language... anything! I see him squirm uncomfortably. Awkwardly. Openly.

"Penelope..... I, I...."

His words are interrupted by the entrance door bursting open and a raucous of noise bustling into the suite. I look over his shoulder to see the guys from the Loft the other night all barge in like they own the place. Dressed in dark jeans and basic tees and utterly giving me the creeps.

"Jay where have you been? You packed yet?" One of the voices bellows at him from across the room. I realise I must be shielded from view by Jay's body in front of mine and I have to admit, this relieved the hell out of me.

"No not yet!" he snaps back, without turning to acknowledge their entry.

As they chatter amongst themselves, I feel them get closer as they plonk themselves down on the sofa beside us. Jay turns side on as they approach ensuring I am now in full view of the other men, resulting in their full attention. On _me_. They all stare with strange smug looks on their faces, their eyes grazing over my body from top to bottom. I shift uncomfortably.

"Ah sorry man, didn't realise you had time for _company_."

The intent and dripping sarcasm in the guy's voice is obvious, completely nauseating me. It was clear that I didn't fit in here with these people. This life. I take a composed breath and intervene, taking advantage of their diversion to make my rash exit.

"That's ok, I'm just leaving anyway." I muster as much strength as I can and make a beeline for the suite door and with every step I feel the rooms gaze follow me. The other men, and _his_. It's the familiar way his eyes make me feel when he is looking at me and I resist with every instinct I have, to look back at him. As I reach the door he is notably beside me. I shakily extend my hand to reach the handle when I feel his arm extend to mine, stopping me from grasping it.

"Here."

He takes my hands place on the handle and opens it for me, swinging it wide open and motioning me to exit through before him. The men on the sofa don't acknowledge me leaving as I continue to hear their meaningless banter until Jay closes the door behind us. In slow motion, he glides nervously toward me, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and halting directly in front of me. My gaze following the line of his firm chest all the way up past his soft tender lips. I tentatively look into his eyes and take a quick breath to gather more strength; trying to ignore the attracting force before me.

"I want to thank you for today."

His gaze is empty again, his thoughts completely occupying his expression as I have seen numerous times before.

"It's my pleasure."

Before I can turn to face the elevator, I feel his fingers on my shoulder again; his tender touch sending the usual distress signal to my body. His eyes begin to soften, open, and he looks vulnerable.

"I, don't want you to leave yet," he breathes onto my skin, his warm sweet scent filling my lungs. My pulse starts to race and I realise I have to go, very quickly for fear where this may lead. _Again_.

"Jay.... I have to."

"Please."

Oh my.

I stare at him intently trying to read him, while his words plead with me emotionally. He's eyes are blazing, the piercing blue striking right through me.

"I can't."

I lean towards him, letting my heart throb at the closeness and gently press my nervous lips to his smooth cheek; allowing myself to inhale his addictive scent one last intoxicating time.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I turn and jump into the awaiting elevator and as soon as I am safely inside - I turn to face him. For the final, painful time. As the doors begin to close I see his distraught, torn face until I am met by my own reflection in the mirrored elevator. An image suddenly appears in my mind of the heartbreaking scene that crippled me. The last time I saw Evan at Rosie's front door. The way he mouthed the words, 'I'm sorry', before leaving me heartbroken and empty in the doorway. My scarred heart throbs loudly, deafening me, at the similarity between that heartbreak to the one I was just a part of. The one I had just delivered. My vision blurs and the tears stream down my face forcefully, unable for me to stop or keep up with their constant barrage. I can only sob hysterically in the elevator of the plush hotel as I leave him for a second time in two days.

A short taxi ride later I had managed to make my way safely back to Rosie's terrace. As I stagger all swollen eyed towards the door, I can't help but be reminded of my entrance only a night or two ago when I came home distressed, confused and overwhelmed by my day with Mr Musician. In my distorted vision I no sooner find myself uninterrupted and inside the terrace before halting, glancing from side to side in the lobby awaiting her fury of worry to cascade over me; her usual hurl of continual questions over observations about my emotional state. Surprisingly, I don't see her - not even a distorted image of her. I head mindlessly towards the kitchen and flick on the lamp. The dim glow makes my sore eyes squint further as I struggle to make out even my immediate surroundings. I toss my keys, along with my purse on the tabletop before noticing my phone. I tense as I take in its presence. Wiping away my eyes and sniffing hoarsely, I pick up the phone and take a deep breath before unlocking the menu screen.

Here goes.

Shit! 4 messages!

I check the missed calls first and notice that several were indeed from Jay's number, spaced within the last thirty minutes. The other from Rosie, who tried calling earlier today.

I really need to start remembering to take my phone with me when I go out!

Without reading the messages, I call Rosie immediately.

"Penny! Are you okay?"

I roll my eyes at her immediate concern."Yes I'm fine, what's up? I missed your call earlier today." I force my voice into a higher register to fake my temperament, which is much easier to do with her when she isn't standing in front of me.

"I wanted to let you know I won't be home for dinner, I had a late lunch with a friend, I mean, crap..." she stumbles like she dropped something before continuing, "I'm about to call past Tonys', he asked me to pick up some paperwork for Marco."

"Okay," I shrug not having any desire to delve further into this conversation. I've had more than I can handle today.

"So I shouldn't be too long. How was your date today?" she hurries, changing the subject; her voice high pitched and dripping with intrigue.

"It was fine, I'm home now," I keep it short, and blunt. "I will talk to you when you get home."

"Oh, alright Penny I'll see you soon!"

She hangs up and I can't help but sigh in relief that I avoided her probing. By the time she comes home, I should be in a more capable capacity.

I hope.

I stare at the messages icon still flashing on my screen and my hands begin to tremble nervously. Before I can even stop myself, I swipe it open and in their four-conversation-glory, they are beaming at me.

_Jay_ _: There is so much I need to say_

_Jay_ _: Pls pick up ur phone_

_Jay_ _: Im about to leave for the airport & I need to talk to u_

_Jay_ _: Please_

The messages so clearly seeking out an explanation. I can't bear it. The thought of even having to speak to him again and risk myself falling apart is excruciating.

Why am I letting him put me into such a spin?

I hardly know him!

It's not like I will ever see him again anyway....

As my thoughts manically deconstruct my feelings, I hear a faint knock on the door. Instantly, my heart stops beating.

Jay?

I wipe my eyes and straighten up my shirt as the faint knock raps on the door again. I gulp. Taking a large sharp breath, I slowly walk to the door trying to gather some composure and resisting every urge I have to open it.

What am I going to say?

Just don't look at him!

Don't let him kiss you!

Don't even let him in!

I hear the urgent knock again as I approach, and before I can stop myself - I reach for the handle. As the door swings open I am literally winded. My breath has been knocked right from my lungs. Staring at me face to face, are those eyes. Eyes that are so familiar. So intense.

OUCH!

The faint throb that has been embedded inside for the past few months screams out in agony, as _those_ eyes strike through me like a knife wielding its enemy. I move from his eyes to his brown hair falling shaggily down the sides of his face. My body stiffens as I glance towards his mouth, remembering the possession of his lips on mine. His face, where his stubble on his chin is still kept in that way, the way I used to like it. The way I still like it.

Oh. My. God.

It's Evan!

# Chapter Eleven

I stand there utterly paralysed by the site of my former love. My one and only I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, grow old with and spend an eternity being blissfully happy with. The same man who has been absent the past few months leaving a gaping hole where he used to be.

Why is he here?

"What are you doing here?" I ask breathless, like I'd been winded in a boxing match. He smiles awkwardly.

"Penny you look..."

I immediately put my hand up signalling him to stop."Please don't. Don't do that." I shake my head irrationally fighting with the internal anguish as the knife in my heart twists even deeper.

"Penny, please."

His voice is warm yet a little husky. The way it sounds when he's terrified and the same tone I remember the day we broke up; when he revealed what he had done, and ultimately, the last time I had heard from him. In this moment as I stare towards his gorgeous face - it all floods back.

"What are you doing here?"

He pauses for a few seconds still searching into my eyes. "I just _had_ to see you."

Had to see me?

"It's been three months!" I gasp in disbelief.

Why now?

Why after so long?

"I know," he starts softly. "I've wanted to come for a while, I just didn't know how or when? I just didn't know when would be a good time."

I stare at him completely flabbergasted. My mouth wide open with astonishment. I can't believe the scene unfolding before me. I try to gather my words to form some kind of sentence that would seem appropriate but I am so stunned beyond reality.

"Penny," he urges cautiously, with his open brown eyes bargaining with mine. The pain in my chest is overwhelming. I need to escape. But I am stuck. Still. Motionless. Frozen.

"I miss you."

WHAT?!

Please make everything stop.

My head starts to echo the pain building in my ribs and I raise my hand up to my temple to try to stifle it. I raise my other hand in front of me again, signalling him not to continue. _Begging_ him not to. "Please."

He slowly takes a step towards me as he moves his body wholly into the doorway. I automatically cower at his subtle movement and know anything remotely closer, would tip me over the edge into an abyss.

"Penny, I need you."

Those four little words have an instant effect on me and before I can even try to stop them, water pours insistently down my cheeks. The heightened emotions. The pound in my head. The blaring of my chest. I can't take anything else!

PLEASE JUST MAKE IT ALL STOP!

"Evan..."

Saying his name out loud for the first time in months sends even more streams of water down my already numb skin. "Don't. Please. I. Beg."

"I need to talk to you about something. About what happened," he pleads, but I interrupt him immediately.

"No."

His eyes flatten miserably. Perhaps my meltdown has reminded him of that moment too. The moment our picture perfect vacation was devastated as he confessed to his affair. The breakdown of our relationship all laid bare and scattered before us into a million heart-breaking pieces. My body seems to soften as I feel him lean away, taking a step backwards onto the porch and into the darkness outside, but it hasn't deterred my anguish.

"Penny, please?" he bargains one last time, a tender sob escaping his trembling lips.

Knowing I can no longer face him - I close the door. Not giving him another chance to plead. I drop my pounding head against the timber allowing my tears to rush urgently down my face without judgement. Not even knowing if he was still standing there in utter devastation - I just couldn't stop. The avalanche cascading out of my sore eyes was relentless and my sobs were loud and incoherent. I just let it all escape. The same way I had done so many times before when I had shut myself off from the harsh outside world. I couldn't deal with it anymore.

What feels like only mere moments later I hear another knock on the door. I'm not sure how much time has passed as all I can do is mourn. Mourn the loss all over again. I hear another firm rap; this time much louder. The surprise halts my distorted cries but I fear it's only temporary. I am falling backwards without a ledge to grab on to. Not wanting to be face to face to him again, I stare in silent shock at the stained timber before me; ultimately the only thing that is separating me from his eyes.

"Please Evan. I can't do this," I plead hoarsely through the closed door. "Please just go away!" I shout hysterically.

"Penelope?"

My heart stops. The voice doesn't belong to Evan. It's the same American accent in the monotone I had spent the day with. The guy whose very touch sends me into complete disarray.

"Penelope. It's Jay."

I don't reply. The merciless pain in my head thumps harder than I would have thought possible. It's reaching an inevitable climax to what my body can take. I can't speak. I can't move.

"Are you alright?" his rising voice questions through the door.

I am still silent; bravely trying to deal with the hurt that is punishing me. I'm numb.

"Open the door!"

Without thinking my hands automatically turn the handle. As I come face to face with those piercing blue eyes they slice right through me; shattering my tortured soul into two equal pieces. The thickening air crashes into me causing the climax in my head to explode, sending agony through every inch of my body. I feel woozy. I am drifting. Before suddenly, everything turns black. Everything is quiet.

\----------------------------------------------

The area surrounding me is dark, bleak and cold. Very cold. The chill in the air sends familiar tingles up my spine and back down again, in a slow aching rhythm, over and over. My head feels swollen, like I've survived a fight with an unrelenting opponent. My stomach is churning. The sickening taste in my throat is evidence that I have either thrown up, or am about to.

The room is still black.

The chilliness in the air singing methodically to the ripples throughout my body begin to pick up its pace; swiftly pacing up and down with much more eagerness. The cold I'm feeling centres on my forearm forming an icy scold on my skin.

I am quiet. I am stationary. I'm in the dark.

Am I dead?

"Penny...."

"Penny. Wake up."

I feel some other cool pressure rest on my forehead. It's damp and wet. It stings against my bruised head, a throbbing reminder of the battle I just endured. The air around me becomes more dense every second, making it harder to breathe and to be so still.

"Penny, are you alright?"

"Penny."

The voice is familiar and oh so motherly.

As I continue opening my eyes, I see Rosie hovering over me. Her brow is furrowed and her eyes look drained. As the space fully lightens around me I realise I am in the lounge room of Rosie's terrace, lying on the sofa.

"Rosie," a raspy, low voice barely murmurs; which I think belongs to me.

"Oh God Penny are you okay?"

"I.... I.... I don't know."

I raise my numb hand to my forehead where I felt the wetness on my skin. I spread my fingers out to notice it's a dampened washcloth which I automatically scrunch up and toss on the floor. The charged sensation still evident on my other arm hasn't wavered. I slowly shift my vision towards it when I notice a pale sculpted hand gripped tightly around my wrist. I gasp. I drift my eyes all the way up the lean arm to the masculine body, and find those piercing eyes staring, with anguish, in my direction.

Jay.

I manage a half smile to acknowledge his presence; his protective grasp squeezes gently as if replying without words.

"Penny."

Rosie's concerned voice scatters from behind me. I blink my eyes a few times to break my hold on him and struggle to sit upright. As I manage to gain my bearings I notice Jay kneeled beside my now firmly placed feet on the floor and his eyes, which never leave mine are emotional. They are open and gloriously beautiful.

"Penelope."

Again, I faintly hear Rosie's concerned tone as she moves urgently to stand before me; immediately cutting my locked focus on him.

"Are you alright?"

I nod my head subtly. "I, I think so. What happened?"

"Penny, don't you remember? You fainted!"

Fainted?

"What?" I ask, gasping at the same time. I don't think I've ever fainted before. Ever. The heart-rending images flash frame in my already clouded mind. Images of the familiarity of his brooding brown eyes, to the intensity of blue ones, to the pain and the anguish - all of it completely inundates me, resulting in my body shuddering unconsciously.

"You don't remember?" she asks with over the top anxiousness.

"No..." I trail, still trying to discard the painful memories that taunt me.

"Penny, was Evan here? Did he come to see you?"

"I don't know. Yes...." I swallow heavily as his meaningful eyes fill me wholly. Not wanting to relive it all over again, I look away from her probing gaze as I take focus on the timber floor.

"Well what did he say? Did he say anything?" She lowers herself down toward my eye level, firmly placing her hands on my shoulders so I had no choice but to look at her.

"I don't know Rose. Not really no," I sob as the words escape me. I'm still far too fragile to talk about him and what happened, especially with Jay sitting beside me. I can't even bring myself to look at him after everything that has happened. Who knows what he must think of me, and what situation he has walked into.

"But Penny, did he...."

"She said she isn't sure!"

I gulp as Jay's angered tone shrills through the air and cuts off Rosie's probing in an instant. I peek up timidly as she immediately leans back in defence, and I think, in surprise at his minor outburst.

"Of course. Sorry Penny," she replies to him before returning her attention back to me. "Oh you scared me half to death!"

She drops and engulfs her caring arms around me, squeezing me securely to emphasise her concern and at the same time, relief. I feel Jay's touch leave my forearm as he stands over me. My eyes search for him automatically, a slight panic gripping me as I already miss his protective hold.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Rosie asks again, her gaze glassy from the tears welling in her eyes and I can't help but feel guilty over the sight of her. I just don't understand how she has put up with me all of this time when I keep hurting her. The last thing I want to keep doing is putting my friend through so much anguish. It honestly just kills me.

"Rose I'm fine," I reply, forcing a tiny smile.

She grins in reply, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she stands. "Well I am going to make some soup, I'm feeling a little light headed after all of this drama."

I giggle inside. It was always her way of dealing with emotional situations. People like Maggs put on a pot of herbal tea, but in Rosie's large Italian family - it was a banquet. She adjusts her white button shirt uncomfortably as she straightens herself up next to him, before adding, "Do you want me to make you some Penny?"

"Sure," I reply animated, hopefully setting her at ease.

"Ah, Jay. Are you staying?" she asks uneven, shifting her wide eyes over his physique with not-so-subtle allure. Although I couldn't blame her for looking at him that way, as he _was_ freaking gorgeous; I couldn't deny that it bothered me a little.

Will he stay?

For some reason I find myself holding my breath as I begin contemplating what it would feel like if he didn't. As I take in his intense gaze and let it utterly consume me, I am desperate to hear that he wants to. That he can't bear to be without me. That he needs to be with me. That he wants to help fill this depressing void that has died inside of me. I let my heart thump loudly as I wait impatiently and allowing the feelings for him to flourish in amongst complete turmoil.

"No thank you. I have a flight to board shortly."

His words are blunt and unemotional, instantly dashing my hopes into an oblivion.

"I can't stay."

My wound tears painfully. Rosie doesn't press further and immediately leaves the room. As soon as we are alone, the already profuse air becomes unbearable. I can feel its force almost squishing my head in its fierceness as he gazes down at me from above, allowing his eyes to blaze into mine. He gracefully takes the seat beside me where Rosie had sat only moments before. There is barely any space between us and the coolness of his skin is radiating onto my flushed body - sending the usual messages to it with candid familiarity.

"Penelope, you scared me," he caresses smoothly.

"Sc-scared you?"

"When I opened the door you fainted in my arms."

There's a real sadness to the way his words cascade into my ears. A real sorrow.

Worry?

"I carried you into the room, I didn't know what the fuck was going on."

I allow myself to watch him, intently, even though I was terrified of breaking all over again to the point of no return; but I was unable to look away. It's a conflicting emotion when I'm around him that I don't have the energy to assess or to fight. I can only obey.

"You carried me in?"

He doesn't answer my question.

"The guy you called to, who you thought I was... this, _Evan_ guy," he starts carefully. I gulp. Images of those puppy dog eyes appear in my mind at the mere sound of his name and my tortured chest erupts in agony.

OUCH!

It is excruciating. All I can manage is a shake of my head, my jaw tense and eyes firmly shut. I suddenly feel his delicate touch again on my skin, this time, cupped around my neck with fragility before running his fingers all the way down to my elbow and back up again.

"Penelope, did he hurt you?" he whispers.

Trying to keep it together all I can manage is another shake of my head; still keeping my eyes closed, I drop my chin to my chest.

Hurt me?

Not physically anyway.

"Is he a part of the story you don't want to talk about?" he continues, his eyes burning through me, searching for answers. I feel his fingers move to my chin never once removing their contact from my bare skin, before finding their resting place on its very tip. He angles my head gently upwards so my face is forced in his direction and automatically my eyes open to make that connection. Even in the completely messy state that I am currently in, I _see_ him. He is mesmerising.

Oh my....

As we focus only on each other and moments from a fatal accident, the throb inside my chest is felt heavy in my throat. The pain in my mind, my lungs, and now pounding heart, are all singing along to their own fierce tune. Before I can manage a word, or he can, I hear a buzzing sound accompanied by a vibration coming from his jeans.

His phone.

He doesn't respond to it straight away, but after a couple of persistent hums his free hand answers it; never once moving his body or delicate grasp from me. I hear the muffled voice on the other end unable to make out the words and never once tearing our eyes away from each other. After a few moments, he sighs.

"I know, I'm on my way."

He puts his phone back into his pocket, still gazing at me intensely. I can't fully put into words the way he makes me feel when he is looking at me. It's a tightly bound parcel of confusion with a bow on top. All I really know, is that when he is with me, despite his coldness, his seemingly disinterested attitude, the danger in the air and all of the drama that comes along with him; I don't want him to not be with me. He's making me feel alive again. Almost making me feel like I can have an actual life.

This is going to kill me.

"Penelope, I have to go."

In a daze I just keep staring, not moving an inch, barely even blinking.

"I want you to tell me that you are alright, before I will leave you," he pleads. Still not really putting coherent thoughts together, I force a smile to my mouth automatically in response and soften my gaze upon his.

"I'll be fine."

His expression is torn, but my words seem to be enough for him to rationalise that he is fine to go. He forces a tiny smile, mimicking mine.

"I will call you," he replies as his breath blows sensually out over my mouth - the scent beyond exhilarating to inhale. His face dips towards mine, still grasping my chin and places a firm yet intricate kiss on the very corner of my mouth. It lingers for a moment before he hastily pulls away, dropping his secure hold and standing all at the same time. Before I can manage a thought or response, he abruptly heads out of the lounge room and into the lobby. Mere seconds later, I hear the faint click of the entrance door.

He was gone.

# Chapter Twelve

The next day, I managed to stumble into the kitchen in one piece after spending most of the night and half of today, tossing and turning. Feeling like I had survived some kind of brawl I felt physically and mentally weak. I needed actual food in my stomach, more than just the scrambled brain I had already. I can't get a handle of what has happened over the past few days, let alone the last twenty four hours. Finding Evan at the front door as he had been only months prior, brought everything back within that single moment. It has brought up the same torturous questions that exploded the day the bomb had been dropped. Recounting the many hours I had spent endlessly going over every word and every memory with a fine toothcomb, until eventually, I couldn't process anything at all. Now similar questions have risen from their grave and I know I need to uncover those answers.

Why has he come to see me after so long?

What does he want?

Why now....?!

Has he been secretly dating the girl he cheated on me with and maybe that's ended so he's come running back?

It's all so peculiar, so strange.

The timing?

I meet a guy, who I think I like. Well I'm not sure how I really feel yet and besides it's not going anywhere now as he's out of the country...

I shake my head to try and steer my thoughts back on track.

But why now?

The image of Evans familiar, loving dark eyes haunting me, flash to the intoxicating intensity of Jays. Flicking from each memory seamlessly. Jay had called like he said he would to let me know he had landed in Los Angeles, which I'm not sure why exactly, but it surprised me. I know he said he would call, but I really didn't expect him to. Surely he has seen enough of my emotional state over the past few days to know how much of a mess I am.

Why would he want to persist with me?

How can I be of any interest to him?

The memory of him telling me that he would call to see if I was alright, quickly rushes to mind. Those sweet swift words exiting his mouth as he no sooner exited my life... forever! I contemplate the fact that I may never see him again and instantly feel ill. I am bruised and battered to a pulp from events that have transpired but for some reason when I was around him, he somehow made me feel like 'me' again.

Of course there was his intensity, the danger and adrenalin I felt in his presence.

The pap drama!

His un-emotive manner.

His un-predictability!

The way I feel about him....

How do I feel about him?

It doesn't really matter! He's gone anyway...

I realise that given the choice, I would want to see him again. I want to feel his foreign touch and the accompanying sensations it brings, as those shivers ripple furiously across my skin. I want to welcome his intense gaze through my soul that strikes me so precisely. He cuts me open and makes me bleed, beautifully.

If that's even possible?

The memories from Rosie's gossip columns, and the news reader - all of it.

He is probably screwing another girl right now Penny.

As if I was any different to him.

Something... more.

Not to mention my emotional state. It wouldn't be fair to even contemplate a new relationship.

Relationship?

Is that what I could even have with him?

No, don't be stupid!

The amount of perplexity buzzing around is too overwhelming that I can't work out any rational answers. I sullenly skulk back to my room, and continue my previous pattern of sleeping away the pain and anguish.

\--------------------------------------

After spending a few days in and out of my bed wasting away the entire week almost, I finally find the strength to get up again. Finally, its déjà-vu as I find myself sitting at the kitchen bench, eating a bowl of muesli which fills my stomach all too quickly. It feels like it's been far longer than a week since my day of disaster, yet my body still reels from the aftermath like it was only yesterday. Rosie hasn't left me any notes today so I assume she will be home after work. A thought that immediately has me rolling my eyes at how motherly she will be when she spies me breaking my torturous routine. After finishing my late, very late breakfast, I wander curiously to the foyer table and pick up my phone to see whether she has tried to reach me.

Shit!

Six missed calls.

Jay's number!

Three messages.

_Jay:_ _Finally at home & back in my bed. All alone. I cant wait to hear ur voice_

_Jay:_ _Busy day of recording. Will be a long day :( Im thinking of u_

_Jay:_ _Have u forgotten about me already? ;) I cant forget about u_

My breath hitches. Reading the messages of his kind words has my usual nauseas stomach doing somersaults, but I'm still clouded by self-doubt and uncertainty. I haven't really dealt with the feelings I have for him and I don't even know if I want to keep talking to him. A long distance famous musician / normal suburbanite relationship is complicated in the least.

Extremely complicated!

I just don't think I could deal with that kind of obstacle in my life right now. Despite any feelings I may or may not have for him, I can't go through something less than simple. I need to deal with everything here and then move forward with something far _less_ complex. Everything is still so surreal and the fact that Evan has shown up out of the blue just makes everything that much more uncertain.

Evan.

I hadn't thought of him for days. I have been far too occupied trying to sort out my feelings for Jay. I don't think I would ever go back to Evan, not after what he did, but the intrigue surrounding his timed visit is eating me. It raises the original questions I had when he confessed to the affair and what actually took place. So much uncertainty still whizzing around in my mind which has kept me locked away in my tower.

I'm so confused. So... lost.

Picking up my phone I robotically call my mum. I never got the chance to call her after my day out with Jay, and I needed to stop putting it off. It's been ages since I have spoken with her and I really needed to let her know that I was alright. To reassure her.

Or maybe reassure myself?

"Hello?"

"Mum?!" I almost cry out, as the sound of her washes over me.

"Penny! It's so lovely to hear your voice!"

The cosy sound of mum is comforting in more ways than one. A comfort that's been lost these past few months. Rosie had kept her in the loop a few times basically letting her know I was still alive; still coping. As long as she heard my voice, even for a moment in its smallest measurement, was enough for her peace of mind.

Our conversation flowed freely and easily. We talked for hours about her work and how dad is doing after his back surgery; an old cricket injury that he had put up with throughout his thirties and forties, until he finally agreed to get it fixed. She made some dirty joke about him being on his back in the bedroom, which made me laugh with horror. But the mere fact I could manage a laugh after everything, was fulfilling in so many ways that the freedom I had noticed a few days ago, was suddenly reappearing.

Despite the length of time on the phone, she not once mentions Evan. I know inside she would be dying to know what happened, especially since Rosie and I were always so limited with details surrounding our ending. After a decade together he was so entwined in my life. My family was his family and my parents simply adored him; I could never bring myself to fill them entirely in on our demise. With my father being a keen sports fan and Evan being the natural athlete, they were honestly a match made in heaven. For a guy that on the outside would have most teenage parents nervous about him spending time with their daughter – they never once faulted. Like me, they always loved him. They trusted him, so wholly, that I never wanted them to feel the death of our loved one to the painful extent that I had. I swallow away the memories and before I even know it, I slip out his name.

"Evan came over a few days ago mum."

There is a silence on the other end before she continues delicately.

"What did he have to say?"

"Nothing really," I shrug. "I mean, I didn't really let him speak. I didn't want to talk to him," I explain, more easily than I would have thought.

"Penny, maybe he wanted to provide some answers for you," my mum reasons with me.

Did he?

"I don't know..." I trail off before adding, "He said he misses me."

She pauses momentarily.

"Penny, maybe you need to talk things through with him. You need to hear what he has to say if you have any chance of letting it all go. Of finally moving on in whatever direction you want to go."

"Maybe you're right," I begin to rationalise, but I can't help but feel caught up in my thoughts.

"But why now Mum? I just don't get it!"

"Ah Penny men are complicated creatures," she laughs softly, chuckling away at a private joke or her years of experience with the opposite sex.

"Besides," she continues. "Does it really matter why it's now? Evan was a part of your life for so long honey. You both grew together and fell in love from such an early age. That kind of attachment needs some kind of reasoning, some kind of closure. It's the only way you are going to be able to put everything to rest dear."

She's right.

A light bulb pops up almost cartoon-like inside my brain. I need to know what he wants to disclose in order to put it all behind me. To try understand, and perhaps, to finally forgive him. I haven't seen him since we broke up and after so many years together I need some kind of explanation. I can't break down every time I think of him or another man. I will always be right _here_ if I don't try.

"Mum, it was really, really nice to talk to you!" I exclaim with meaning, an intricate tear forming in my eye.

"Oh Penny, my sweet, please call me again soon! I miss you."

"Me too Mum."

The relief I feel after speaking with mum is obvious. Another weight has been lifted off my heavily burdened and guilty shoulders. The words coming from my mother's mouth, so reassuring and understanding, I finally feel like I have bearing and purpose.

I stifle my hands through the masses of paperwork on the foyer table, searching for something that has Evans number on it. Anything. I was more motivated than ever to talk to him and to hear what he had to say. Still too fragile to face him in person, over the phone seemed do-able. Sifting through the mountains of papers I am interrupted by my phone ringing and as I peek down at the screen, I see it's a familiar number.

Jay.

I roll my eyes.

Just as I am focused on Evan, Jay calls!

Why is this happening?

Is the universe trying to send me crazy?

Taking a deep breath I anxiously answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Penelope," he sighs with relief. "Are you okay?"

His voice sounds concerned and far more open than I remember, although it's been almost a week since I've spoken to him.

"Sorry, I have, umm, been a little preoccupied. I'm fine," I answer honestly.

He is silent for a moment.

"So you _are_ alright?" he asks tentatively.

I force a smile across my lips.

"Yes, I'm okay," I lie, although after speaking to mum it's almost true. "How's LA?" I ask, blatantly changing the topic.

"It's fine. I've been pretty busy in and out of the studio this past week," he starts. "I've tried calling you."

Shit!

How am I going to explain this?

I'm not telling him I've been in my depressive state all week sleeping. He'll think I need to be shipped off by the white coat people.

"Sorry, I ah, misplaced my phone."

LIAR!

"I got your messages," I quickly add, hoping he would buy my lame attempt at an explanation; as I couldn't explain further without sounding like a complete fool.

"You read my messages?"

My thoughts flash to the sweet honesty I had read only a few hours ago before I called mum. Words about how he was thinking of me loop over and over, stumping me with what to say in response.

"Umm, yes I read them," I start cautiously, not knowing where to end the sentence. "I was just about to reply," I scramble.

Oh my God. Is he buying it?

I feel like I hear a smile come over his usual stony expression - if that's even possible.

"Well I apologise for interrupting you then," he answers, still with that hint of a grin across him and making the little gymnast in my belly continue her excited tumbles.

Playful Jay is kind of cute.

"So what are your plans this weekend?" I ask desperate to change the subject from anything uneasy.

"Well ironic for you to ask, but I was hoping to have a visitor."

Visitor?

A woman?

"Oh okay, that sounds nice."

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I am looking forward to seeing her," he continues.

Her?

How can he be telling me this on the phone?

Her!

I am writhing, confused as to why he would be telling me he was planning on seeing another woman this weekend. I mean it's not as if we are together or anything, but only seconds ago he was asking if I had read his messages. Those sincere words about him thinking of me and not being forgotten.

"So, are you free this weekend?" he questions, cutting off my irate thoughts.

What?!

"Excuse me?" I ask gobsmacked.

"Are. You. Free. This weekend?"

I try to swallow but my mouth has suddenly gone dry. I don't really understand what he is saying to me.

But, you're in LA?

"You want me to come and see you?" I start slowly. I spit the words out like they aren't even realistic.

"Yes."

"In _LA_?"

"Yes."

Huh?

I am stunned. I have no words to speak, but my thoughts are full of whizzing sentiments.

What does he mean he wants me to come to LA?

I hardly know him!

This is absurd!

"Ah, hello? Are you still with me?" He cuts the silence with his calm voice and despite him being on the other side of the world, I can still feel the air thicken around me.

"Ye - yes, I'm here," I stutter trying to get my mouth to work properly again.

"Amy has arranged a ticket for you to leave tomorrow morning, she will text you the details..."

Amy?

Bet she loved that! She hates me!

"...and I can arrange a car to pick you up from the airport...." His words report from his mouth like he has practiced this a million times.

I wonder how many other women he flies around the world?

I'm sure many!

Do I even want to know?

"Are you still with me?" I hear him finish.

"Umm, I think so," I start incoherently. "Th– that's really nice of you to offer but I...."

"No you don't. You aren't going to devise an escape route just yet!"

Instantly the image of me leaving him stranded in his hotel foyer as I left abruptly from his room comes flooding back.

"Penelope, at least think about it before you decide to run away."

I blush with embarrassment.

"The ticket has been arranged, if you decide you don't want to use it then that's your choice. But please think about it." His voice washes over me. So non-emotional and cool, yet my body reacts to it the same way every time. It's just so... him.

"I would really, _really_ like to see you."

Oh my.

His words are more earnest than I would have anticipated and they speak to my soul more than anything. I know my brain won't have any say in what comes out of my mouth from this point, so I just knuckle down and hang on for the ride.

"Okay, I will think about it."

Am I actually going to think about doing this?

"Good."

I can't help but smile. He sounds pleased with his efforts in negotiation, either that, or he really knows what kind of affect he has on me and probably all women.

"I have to go, but I can't wait to see you tomorrow," he finishes with self assurance, before I hear the dial tone in my ear. He was gone.

What the hell?

He wants me to fly to LA tomorrow?!

That's crazy!

I toss my phone back down on the table pushing a pile of unkempt papers closer towards the glass edge and shake my head in disbelief. He actually thinks I would fly half way around the world to see him.

There is no way I possibly could...

Could I?

Don't get me wrong, the actual idea of flying to Los Angeles would be nothing short of amazing. I've never travelled to the United States before and have always wanted to, but I don't even really know him.

Do I?

The rational side of my brain just thinks this is far too extravagant and a little too good to be true, but the other side, the side that is mesmerised by him is definitely screaming in the opposite direction. Besides, I was on a mission to try to sort out what lies behind me so I could actually move forward. Perhaps if I sort through that baggage first, I would be more open to some new adventure.

"Hey Penny you're up!"

Rosie bellows from across the foyer, as she swings closed the entrance door and places her keys on the silver hook. I glance toward her and smile uneasily, which has been the only kind of smile I can seem to manage these days.

"Have you eaten?" she asks immediately, trying to disguise her surprise that I am out of my room. I roll my eyes.

"I had some muesli..." I start, although my brain is mush.

She is standing opposite me on the other side of the bench gathering contents to make her own bowl, clattering the utensils and eyeing me between each movement.

"Are you okay? You look strange."

I stare back in a daze, shaking my head to be more present and as my puzzled eyes meet her wide quizzical ones, I take a nervous breath.

Here goes.

"Rose, I just got a call from Jay."

Her eyes immediately bulge and her fumbling hands stop their purpose.

"Oh my God, and?" she screeches.

I shrug. "He's invited me to LA tomorrow to see him."

Rosie's face lights up like a fireworks on New Years' Eve. "Seriously?"

I nod slowly, screwing up my face at the same time. Suddenly she squeals, clapping her hands in the infant-like-way she does when she gets like this. I roll my eyes.

"Oh my God Pen! That's amazing!!"

Her face studies mine as the words come out of her mouth, before she realises that my expression isn't matching hers. "Isn't it amazing?" she asks dumbfounded.

I shrug. "I don't know. I don't even know him," I answer doubtfully.

She sighs heavily and crinkles up her nose.

Great, I don't want another argument.

"It's just, I barely know him and I was thinking I really need closure from Evan, you know, get answers so I can finally move past all of this," I reason quickly, not giving her a chance to get angry with me and waiving my hands carelessly around in front of me. "I think it's finally time you know?"

"Penny, I don't think that's a good idea."

I'm confused.

"What? To see Jay or to finally sort stuff out with Evan?"

She rolls _her_ eyes at _me_.

"Of course you should go to LA! That's a given. I don't think you need to speak to Evan," she dismisses, as she goes back to preparing her cereal steering her eyes away from me.

"What do you mean? Aren't you curious as to why he has come to see me after all of this time? I have questions about everything and he is the only one that can help me with that. I really feel like I may be ready to relive it again, you know, to finally get some closure." My words are more confident than I expected. It's like unconsciously I know this is the right thing to do and I'm confused as to why my friend isn't thinking that putting him behind me is the best option. The only option right now. "Why don't you want me to move on or something?" I ask a little annoyed.

"Don't be silly Penny, of course that's all I want. Trust me!" she exclaims as she glances up at me from her now made bowl of cereal.

I don't get it.

She sighs. "Look, I know how much he hurt you and we have spent all this time trying to forget about him," she places a large spoonful of muesli in her mouth before continuing. "I just don't want you to go back to square one, that's all," she mumbles as she mutilates her food.

"You don't think speaking to him will clear the air? Will help me finally put to rest any questions I had? Like, why now Rose?" I urge.

"Penny, does it really matter if you get all of those answers? Honestly, it's not like you would go back to him is it?"

I shrug, shaking my head.

"No!" I reply confidently.

Would I?

"Well then what will those answers accomplish? You will only continue thinking about whatever you uncover, and may take you several more months to fully process and move on from," she continues. "Honestly Pen, you are finally in a place where you can just get away from everything. Seriously. LA. We have always wanted to go there. And with Jay Ryker!" She places her empty bowl in the sink behind her before wandering towards me, placing both of her hands on my shoulders firmly. "Jay. Ryker," she repeats again with wide eyes.

I begin to smile, concluding that maybe she is right. I can follow the inquiry up with Evan at any time. Those questions will always be there and this opportunity may not. At the very least it's a free trip to a city I have always wanted to visit, which would be an unbelievable distraction.

"Go pack," she orders while I consider the predicament.

"But Rose.. I...." I start but she immediately interrupts me.

"No buts Penelope, just go and pack! If you have a horrible time, if he's an arsehole; whatever excuses you are concocting in that brain of yours, you can always come home. No excuses. Go pack!" She drops her hands from my shoulders and points her right arm up towards the stairs.

I roll my eyes.

"Okay..." I mumble defeated, as I skulk towards the foyer and upstairs towards my room.

Going to see Jay in Los Angeles?

Shit!

Am I really going to do this?

# Chapter Thirteen

The flight to Los Angeles was long. Very long. About fourteen hours long to be exact. The furthest flight I had ever been on was to Perth a few years ago with Evan, and we only had to endure five. I mindlessly scrambled my things through security and the U.S. customs area in a zombie-like manner, vaguely checking my hair and makeup in every reflection I could find along the way. Trying to freshen up in the cramped airplane bathrooms while you are feeling less than fantastic is not an easy task in the slightest, and I wanted to make sure I looked presentable when he saw me again. I mean it's been a week since we had our whirlwind few days in Sydney and I didn't want him to think he made a mistake inviting me here; especially when I consider the type of company he is so clearly used to. After packing for my flight like Rosie had ordered me too, curiosity got the better of me and I did it. I 'Googled' him. Finally my phone came in handy for more than just getting messages from him; now it had the label of being my entire information source for him too. No sooner his name was typed into the search bar the instant regret came barrelling through. A barrage of images of him with other women. Gorgeous women. Thousands of them on my screen for me to compare myself to. Most of the pictures appeared to be taken in clubs or at gigs, where his arms were draped carelessly over their shoulders and their roaming hands all over his body. His stunning blue eyes were just as striking, but the windows were closed and there was no life behind them. The distant expressionless face reminding me of his band mates and the way they were acting around their companions at The Loft. Although he looked the same on the outside - it definitely wasn't the Jay that captivated me and led me here. And even though he appears _different_ with me so far, I can't help but let my girlie insecurities float to the surface of my extremely complicated ocean.

Mechanically and nervously following the sea of people, I finally make my way to the main entrance of LAX airport. Confronted by taxis, passengers and luggage not knowing where or what to do, I scan my eyes from side to side anxiously. The text from Amy bluntly said there would be someone here to pick me up, but she was far from detailing anything else about the mystery travel arrangements. After some searching I notice a black sedan parked behind a line of others already occupied and a tanned man standing alone beside it. He is dressed in a black suit and tie and is holding a sign out in front of him - but I can't make out the words written on it from here. I take a few eager steps towards him and as he gets closer, the words on the sign become clear.

'Penelope'

Jay doesn't even know your surname Penny and you have flown around the globe to see him _,_ my good conscious quips at me.

I keep my head fixed on the attractive young man nervously, until I finally reach him.

"Penelope, for Mr Loft?"

I roll my eyes and politely nod.

A week away from him hasn't deterred his opportunity to tease me.

He immediately takes my bags and opens the rear door to the sedan signalling me to enter. As soon as I slide in I notice the same pair of lace-up combat boots attached to the crossed legs of a man. I know straight away who they belong to. My heart begins to pound forcefully in my chest.

"How was your flight?"

The cool, American accent slices through the confined air and I can't help but feel a little light headed.

Is this actually happening?

I gaze up from his boots to his grey wash jeans, up his toned body to his fitted black tee and that ghostly skin glowing from beneath his thin shirt; until I meet those eyes.

Oh my.

Locking onto them after being away from them this past week is even more stunning than I remembered. His hair effortlessly tall - all James Dean like, and his eyes are glistening. Open _._ I smile.

"Long," is all I manage. The air around us thickens rapidly building with each thump from my chest. He grins.

Oh gosh he looks hot!

I notice the driver walk past his window and make his way into the driver's seat. Jay is not moving a muscle and only staring at me intently. I can't help but follow my focus to the driver as he starts the engine and heads off, taking us on our journey to who knows where. I am completely vulnerable.

"I can assure you he is a very safe driver," Jay states playfully, inevitably to get my attention off the chauffeur and back onto him. I blush. I feel so intimidated and silly, having flown all this way to see him and now I am here, I am at a loss for words on what to say or how to act.

"So, how have you been?"

Not real creative, but it will do.

"Busy. Very busy."

His blunt, short reply makes me squirm uncomfortably.

This was a mistake _,_ my head screams at me.

Awkwardly, I move my eyes from his direction to look out of my window trying to absorb the scenery and to take my mind off the discomfort.

LA! Wow!

I can't believe I am in Los Angeles!

It is quite surreal to be in another country right now. Only yesterday I was dragging myself out of my bed and contemplating my sorry existence. My eyes follow the passing vehicles and landmarks, taking everything in and letting my senses run wild.

Palm trees!

"You ever been before?" I feel his warm breath cascade over my neck, as I realise he has moved into the vacant seat beside me; our bodies are only inches from each other and the accompanying chills start like clockwork.

"No, never," I breathe softly not wanting to turn to face him for fear where it may lead. I feel his careful fingers to the side of my face, as he gently moves a long stray hair from my flustered cheek and tucks it behind my ear. His very touch again, speaks its own language to my body and my head automatically, yet cautiously turns to face him. With our noses almost tip to tip and our eyes completely level, all I can do is stare directly into them. The pale blue is mesmerising up close, that I willingly search deeper and let their damage wreak havoc over my tormented soul. His fingers drag tenderly from my ear slowly down my neck, allowing goose bumps to ripple across my skin.

"You are even more beautiful than I remember. If that were even possible."

Me?

Before my thoughts have time to construct a response his mouth presses urgently to mine, stinging my warm skin with his demanding touch. Parting our lips slowly and in sequence, we caress each other's tongues sensually. The deepest kiss I have had with him, and perhaps anyone so far. It's passionate and gentle, but fierce and hard all at the same time - sending me into a spin. With his palm cupping my neck, his fingertips carefully circling seductively on the spot and send the never ending supply of tremors throughout my body. After I become familiar with our pattern, my brain finally catches up and I pull away hastily. Raising my hand to the side of my face, I re-tuck the same loose strand of hair and blush immediately.

His eyes open at my sudden departure, seemingly confused.

"Something wrong?"

I redden further and motion my head toward the driver.

We have company!

I'm immediately embarrassed by how into the kiss I became especially with the driver in the front seat. I know that I came here willingly to see him, but I am by no means a hook up that will put on a show for strangers. I fold my arms across my lap utterly mortified.

'Another groupie' I bet he's thinking _,_ my good conscious quips at me.

Jay turns his head towards the driver and chuckles quietly to himself before turning back to me, stroking my flushed cheek with the back of his cool hand.

"Don't worry, he is paid to not take notice."

Told you. Groupie.

I swallow heavily and shake my head; trying to not only expel my conscious' thoughts, but the images of the _many_ women he's been paid to ignore. I curl my lips awkwardly as Jay's eyes are blazing sensually.

"I am glad you came," he whispers so softly that it's almost hard to hear. His words are vulnerable and take me by surprise.

"Me too."

Am I?

The intensity between our eyes is building again as our bodies are still pressed up against each other. One hand is firmly on my knee and the other at the nape of my neck, stroking me carefully. I prepare myself to encounter round two when I feel a strange vibrating sensation against my leg. I look down curiously and spy a dim light shining through his denim pocket.

His phone!

His hand drops immediately to answer it, and moves into the opposite side of the seat, uttering annoyance about schedule times and artwork.

As he discusses his work with his caller, I take the relieved opportunity to look over my shoulder at the Los Angeles scenery. We are no longer on the over-bearing freeway and have made our way well into town. Several burger joints and petrol stations pass by before we turn off into a suburban street. The road is very steep and bendy, as we wind up several hilly streets all lined with large houses along each side. There are so many trees encasing us that it's almost like they have built an entire neighbourhood in the middle of a forest. The constant jerking of the vehicle as we manoeuvre around the area begins to make me feel queasy - the motion obviously not a good mix with jetlag. Jay is still annoyingly preoccupied on his caller and I begin to think that even if I spilled my stomach on the floor in front of him - whoever the hell he is talking to would still be more interesting. He is so oblivious that he doesn't even notice when the sedan pulls into a spare parking spot on the side of the road.

Are we here?

Where are we?

I glance around the vehicle and see a couple of range rovers parked beside us and a pale blue rendered fence in front of them. There is loads of greenery, huge tropical palm trees above us, and just off to the left is the front facade of a house that wears the same mild blue as the fence.

Are we at his house?

"Yes we are here, I'll see you inside!" He slams the phone into his pocket before finally noticing me again.

"You ready?"

I turn to clamber out of my opened door, courtesy of the driver and make my way to the back of the sedan, presuming to collect my bags.

"Leave those, come."

He puts his arm around my waist snugly making my breath hitch at the sensation, and leads me towards the entrance. As we approach the doorway, I take in the lustrous ivy plant engulfing the entire house. The thick vine looks amazing wrapped around the palest blue render that I find it hard to take my eyes off such an exquisite display.

He opens the front door never once breaking his tightened grip around me, leading me past several doorways until we make our way to a main room. It's sizeable, with a couple of worn leather couches in the middle, offsetting the light timber floorboards throughout. The walls are all white with several art pieces hanging, almost gallery style on each one. There are windows in the middle of each wall without shutters or curtain's which boast the amazing high view. The other houses, the trees, the gorgeous clear sky - it's simply breathtaking. I wander away from his grasp and slowly dawdle around the room absorbing every inch of it, not wanting to miss even the smallest detail. This house; this room was another one of his layers I was suddenly excited to discover and my lips turn up as I inhale his scent that fills it so entirely. I am in a dream.

"Finally!"

My bemusement is interrupted by the familiar insolent tone of the dark haired girl I met back at the Sydney Hotel a week ago now. His assistant, Amy.

"Here are those artworks I need you to look at," she barks.

As I take in her appearance she is just as beautiful as I remembered. Unfortunately _._ Her black wavy hair pulled up into a loose knot, and the same skinny jeans and singlet displaying her long model-like physique. Although she doesn't acknowledge me, my arms cross protectively around my body as they thoroughly eye over a few A4 sized cards she is holding in her hands.

"This one definitely needs more focus, sharper lines here and here," he articulates decisively.

"Okay, I will take them to the printers now," she responds matter of fact, still acting as if I'm not even in the room. "You also need to get back to MTV about a release date for the video, Shaun said you wanted to discuss it with him."

"Fuck, leave that with me."

He hands back the A4 cards and she scurries off down the hall we just entered through, never once even glancing toward me. I shuffle my feet on the spot, my arms still awkwardly folded and stare blankly in his direction; waiting for some kind of dialogue to come my way. It doesn't seem to. Instead he flips out his phone and starts fumbling his fingers quickly across the keypad seemingly forgetting that I am even here.

"Jay! The technician is here to look at the gear!" Another man's voice beckons from beyond the main corridor.

"Fuck," he mumbles under his breath, still engulfed in his phone. Without warning he turns and heads towards the corridor and slips through one of the entrance ways. He was gone.

Dream over.

I scan my eyes around the large room, which I have now been left in completely alone.

I can't believe I came here...

To go from such a passionate reunion, to being somewhat ignored is completely bewildering to me. I realise he is probably busy, but then why would he want me to come and see him here in the first place? Not knowing what to do next, I stroll around the room and look at each of the artworks on the wall one at a time. Not really seeing them for what they are, only mindlessly trying to fill in the time as I nervously await his return.

At least half an hour would have easily passed and there is still no sign of him, Amy or anyone else for that matter. I hear muffled voices from beyond the hall, but no one has veered up this way since he left. Annoyed and impatient, I head back through the main lobby taking in a curious glance to the staircase that leads to a lower level where most of the voices seem to be coming from. Without completely stopping I can't see anyone or anything. All I eye is the black metal rail that steps down with the timber and the still muffled conversations downstairs. I keep walking until I make it outside and take deep breaths trying to calm myself down. The sun is still shining outside but the chilly afternoon temperature is a reminder that it's Autumn here, and the only cardigan I brought with me is still packed in my suitcase.

Where the hell are my suitcases?

I scan my eyes around to the side of the house where the driver had parked and despite the car still being there, the driver is nowhere to be seen. I move to the rear of the vehicle to check the boot, but it's locked.

Great!

I wrap my arms around myself to try to dispel the cool air from hitting the exposed skin on my arms and continue wandering around the property. I make my way to the rendered fence and as I glance over the edge I see Jay's back yard far below. A huge square concrete pool is embedded in the surrounding paved area, nestled amongst a sea of plants and trees. My vision halts at an outdoor lounge that rests on the far side of the pool where there are three woman seated. They are so distant that there is no way I could hear a word they are saying or make out their features to any lengthy detail , but even from here I can see how pretty they are. They are so skinny; all legs with blonde hair and I can't help but wonder why they are there or who they are.

Are they the reason he is ignoring me?

This was such a bad idea.

My aeroplane breakfast is sitting in the back of my throat, parked there and waiting to be put into drive. I wish I could call Rosie to help set me at ease but her nagging me about not using my phone over here with the expensive international rates, recalls loudly in my head.

"Penelope?"

I roll my eyes as I hear Jay's faint call from afar forcing my gaze away from the girls below.

He's suddenly realised he has a guest, how thoughtful of him.

I slowly walk around the front of the vehicle toward the doorway until I am in view and he spots me immediately. He looks relieved.

"I thought you had taken off on me again."

I force a smile.

As I approach him I can feel the air around me thicken rapidly, like it does when we become in close proximity to each other. Still annoyed at him for leaving me so soon after arriving, I try to brush the dense air aside confidently.

"Are you cold?" he asks as he begins gently rubbing his firm hands across my skin before I, not-so-subtly, shift away.

"I'm fine," I clip.

He doesn't seem to notice.

"I have some business to take care of this afternoon," he starts whilst running his hand through his tussled hair. "I don't know why I have staff to do these things when I may as well fucking do it myself," he mumbles.

He sounds angry.

Why would he need staff for?

"I organised a hotel for you so I will get the driver to take you there now. Makes sense for you to rest after your long flight. I will pick you up later and we will have dinner," he states so formally that I immediately begin thinking this is a weekly routine for him. Perhaps I am this week's choice. 'The emotional wreck from Australia.' I cringe.

"So are you ready to go?" he adds.

I can't help but act a little surprised, and I suppose, a little rejected. After all of my worry, I just assumed he would make me stay here at his place with him.

Why doesn't he want me to stay here?

My thoughts drift to the model-looking women in the backyard and quickly assume he probably has enough company here in his house already. I swallow heavily trying to keep the chunks from rising out of my throat and onto the pavement. It wouldn't be a great impression to say the least; although it may finally get his attention.

"I would have asked you to stay here, in the guestroom of course," he quickly adds with a tiny smirk like he can read my mind. "Things are just so busy here. They basically work all night, so it won't be very private."

So he works from his house?

Is that who those women are?

"Okay," is all I manage as I stroke my chilly, exposed skin. He nods his head to someone behind me and to my surprise the driver has reappeared.

"This way please."

I turn back toward him and he is already fiddling through his phone, seemingly disinterested in me again.

I want to cry.

I want to run.

I hold in my emotions without breathing a word and slide into the vehicle before risking a final glance. He's still typing frantically away on his phone, not caring about me leaving at all; and as the car backs out onto the street I see his image behind me slowly fade into the distance.

I received a call from the front desk saying I would be collected promptly at 7pm for dinner, but there were very little details about where I would be going or even who I should expect to collect me. I wasn't even sure that Jay would be joining me considering how disinterested he seemed at his house. For all I knew, I could be taken by a cabbie through a drive through service. Since arriving at the plush hotel I have managed to have an hour long nap, shower, sort through my clothes and get ready for my dinner date; something that was really difficult to do with such little information. Glancing at myself in the hall mirror I am pleased with my reflection for once. The choice to wear all black from my stiletto boots to my blouse was mainly because I was still agitated and it irrationally seemed like a fitting colour, and well I didn't really have a lot to choose from due to my crappy packing skills. As I wait by the door, still puffing my loose curled hair and touching up my makeup, I can't help but feel confused by his bizarre behaviour since I arrived. I can't seem to work him out at all! I have had time to process everything between us so far - letting it flash frame in my analytical mind, and all I keep getting is a traffic light of amber when all I really want is green.

One minute he wants me, the next he doesn't care!

I feel stupid that I flew all this way on a whim to see him, mainly out of curiosity and to be honest, a little out of fantasy. As Rosie so obviously pointed out it would be any girl's dream to be in this position, being flown around the globe to see this sexy famous muso who would have his way me. But despite her observations, this wasn't who I was. I was never the kind of woman to even contemplate being a fling – famous guy or not. None of her excitement was what convinced me to come. Despite my reluctance to admit it out loud, I can't deny the feelings that arise when we are together or the attraction that builds so intensely between us. Escaping my past was also a great distraction, but beneath it all – it's _him_ that I came here for.

My realisations are halted by the ring of the room phone, as it sounds loudly before me.

"Hello?"

"Ms Price, your car is here to collect you," a professional tone announces.

"Umm, okay. I will be right down."

I straighten up my sheer blouse and grab my clutch and room key; nervously fleeing out the door.

Here goes...

# Chapter Fourteen

Making my way into the hotel lobby, I'm in awe of how striking the entire place really is. Burnished, beige coloured porcelain tiles across the floors and such intricate details along the foyer's front desk. This was easily a luxury five star hotel. On my approach, the doorman opens the main glass door for me and I am struck again by the cool air outside; taking in the pebbled valet area and statuesque potted palms. The area is bustling with many cars, staff and guests; ushering to and from their destinations with mindless chatter and dripping with money. I stand frozen, blankly staring at the scene surrounding me really unsure about what I was supposed to do. I nervously glance side to side hoping to receive some guidance before a concierge silently answers my prayers and stalks toward me sincerely.

"Ms Price?"

I nod in reply and fidget with my blouse.

Obviously I stand out for not fitting in here...

"This way please."

I follow the man to the very last vehicle and notice its one of the same black Range Rovers that had been parked in front of Jay's house. As I get closer, I see him. Those striking blue eyes I would know anywhere by now are blazing fiercely in my direction from the driver's seat.

I gulp timidly.

"Have a good evening Ms Price," the concierge chirps as he opens the door. I clamber into the car as graceful as possible and automatically place my seatbelt around my lap with fumbling fingers. Inside the vehicle is dark and deathly silent. Slowly and carefully I raise my eyes to look at him. Even in the dimness, I can feel his eyes burning through me.

"You look gorgeous," he oozes effortlessly as his voice slices precisely through the dense air and sends the shivers down my spine. I clear my throat quietly hoping he didn't hear me.

"Thank you," I whisper looking away from him and straight ahead.

We wait for a few moments until the vehicles in front of us clear before we gradually start our journey. I can't help but feel relieved that he is driving so I won't have to feel his gaze on me the entire time, as just sitting next to him in an enclosed space is intense enough.

"Have you enjoyed your afternoon?" he asks casually.

I roll my eyes.

He HAS to be kidding!?

I immediately feel the routine rebuttal build in my chest and don't have time, or want to stop it.

"What? You mean sitting in a hotel room all by myself all day? Sure, it was fantastic!"

Shit!

The irritation in my voice shot straight out of me and I immediately regret being so forthcoming. I don't know what it is, but he seems to bring out so many extreme emotions in me. I shift my eyes uncomfortably between the road ahead and the window beside me – anything to avoid looking in his direction.

"Are you angry with me?" he asks in surprise.

You think?!

I don't reply. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the passing blurs through the window.

"Penelope, I apologise if I hurt your feelings earlier," he starts. "I have some things going on at the moment with my work, things that needed my attention," he explains diplomatically, like I am a spoilt child demanding attention from its mother.

I roll my eyes.

"A simple, 'I have things to deal with' would have sufficed," I reply trying desperately to keep my sarcasm to a minimum. I hear him take a loud, over the top sigh.

"Look I'm not used to this," he starts more empathetically while I am not yet feeling the same remorse.

"Used to what?" I spit out so abruptly it makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. "You were the one that invited me here."

I don't look at him and he doesn't reply. The remainder of our drive is spent in an edgy silence where every tiny sound is magnified by our deaf surroundings.

A short while later we seem to arrive at our destination as he pulls his vehicle up to a man dressed in a sharp dinner suit behind a roped off area. He leaves the car running and hops out just as my door is opened by another man dressed in the same classy attire.

"Thank you."

I am met by Jay at the door, who I notice is cautiously looking around us and at the same time taking a firm hold of my forearm urging me to follow him. His head is down toward his feet and his grasp squeezes so tight I almost think it will cut off my circulation.

Without question, I take his demanding lead around the vehicle toward the sidewalk where a very plain, concrete building is perched on the corner. The main street is bustling with cars and loud music, but not having been to LA before I don't have any clue to where I am. Jay is moving quickly; making it very difficult to take much more of my surroundings in, but as we make our way to the front of the building I see the restaurant sign in bold red letters 'Bravio'.

Wow!

I remember reading about this place owned by some hot shot Hollywood producer and had talked to Rosie about going there. At the time, it was one of the hottest new restaurants on the Boulevard.

My eyes are wide with excitement taking the place of my previous annoyance. When we reach the grey doors he lets go of my forearm allowing the blood to flow back into my fingers, but still continues glancing over his shoulder like he is looking for something before signalling me to enter. As soon as I step inside I am struck by how dim this place is. I almost can't even see for a moment as my eyes adjust to such an un-lit space. I feel him behind me as he places his delicate touch at my lower back and we walk together at a steady pace towards the main desk.

As my vision comes into focus I am beyond thrilled. There is an elegant, yet funky oval bar in the centre of the room with leather booths scattered around it. Several smaller table and chairs in the same fabric fill the remaining space. To the far side there is a tall, straight staircase that runs from the main floor to an upstairs area. There seems to be some kind of a DJ setup along the railing, but I can't make anything else out from here.

"Please follow me."

We follow the gentleman host as Jay keeps his firm, protective hand on my lower back. I take in subtle glances around the booths as we pass by and swallow heavily when I notice how glamorous their occupants are. I fidget self-consciously as a result, another reminder of how different this world is. I feel so... _naked_. We are escorted up the staircase, past some more booths and the DJ I noticed from the lower level, until we are in the furthest corner of the room. The single, private table in near darkness is our final destination and presumably our table for the evening.

"Thank you," he states to the host.

He extends his arm out in front of him signally me to take a seat and as I slide along the lounge, he follows in close behind. He visibly relaxes as he slumps down and finally seems to have taken a breath.

"Welcome to Bravio may I offer you something to drink?"

A brunette beauty with perfect tanned skin and a low cut LBD comes into view. I squirm in my seat awkwardly at how beautiful she is, another reminder of the kinds of people he is obviously used to. I begin to wonder whether this girl would think we were even on a date. Perhaps she assumes we are related. But as I take in the object her brown eyes are focused on, I know she won't be wondering about me at all.

"Yes, can I order the Sangria and a tall glass of OJ," he replies promptly without asking me what I would prefer. Although I flush with embarrassment as I assume the juice he ordered was for me after my horrid drunken display the first time we met.

"Anything you want," she replies with innuendo after eyeing Jay, quite flirtatiously I might add. She has either recognised who he is, or his sex-on-legs appeal has caught her eye. Whatever the reason has me wanting to poke her eyes out.

Since when did I get so... possessive?

"What's a Sangria?" I ask over-interested; mainly in reaction to the waitresses over-the-top display. He turns his entire body to face me, as we are seated close in the centre of the circular style seat. As his intense eyes meet mine I can feel their gaze run through me, sending the acquainted tingle down my spine and making me forget all about the waitresses heavy feet as she storms away.

"It's a cocktail, red wine a bit of brandy," he responds still not moving a muscle. I manage a small smile still conflicted by all of the events earlier today, but keep my eyes in his direction. He seems to actually notice my expression this time.

"Penelope, please forgive me if I offended you today," he starts with a real sincereness to his usual unyielding tone. He looks uncomfortable. "That obviously was never my intention. This is all, different."

I crinkle my nose, confused. "How do you mean?"

He shifts uneasily in his seat, taking his eyes off me for a moment.

"Your drinks sir."

The waitress places the OJ in front of me smiling in-genuinely and the Sangria in front of Jay; allowing her hand to linger much longer than required and almost leaning her bulging cleavage over the table towards him.

Could she be any more obvious?!

"Thank you," he answers formally seemingly not noticing her behaviour.

Or probably used to such behaviour.

I shrug off my thoughts as soon as she leaves us alone before I continue my probing. "How do you mean this is 'different'?"

Again he doesn't answer, but swaps the OJ and Sangria so that the alcohol is in front of me and not him.

"Here," he motions, avoiding my question. I do as he requests and take a tiny sip of the beverage.

The sweetness from the fruit with the rich red wine is quite tantalising and I lick my lips from the near saccharine sting the taste leaves on my tongue. I see him bite his lip before taking a tiny sip of his juice, never once breaking his intense stare away from me and my mouth.

"Did you order this for me?"

"Yes. I don't drink."

"Not at all?" I ask surprised.

"No, not anymore."

I take another slow sip of my drink and place it carefully down on the table. As my eyes meet his, he is still gazing right through me. It's chilling.

"You didn't answer my question," I coax. He continues searching my eyes trying to deliberate his words, as the severity of his stare slowly starts to soften.

"I haven't done this for a very long time," he starts shakily.

"Haven't done what? Been out to dinner?" As stupid as the question sounded out loud, I was hoping my sarcasm was going to force him to be more open.

"Well, no, I have been out to dinner," he smiles nervously before adding, "It's just been a long while since it was really with anyone."

Oh God.

Is he saying that I am someone? Maybe, someone maybe special?

My eyes widen at the honesty of his comment with Rosie's words playing loudly as the soundtrack to our scene. 'Obviously he likes you Penny!'

I begin to squirm anxiously, battling the emotions rising inside telling me I can't do this. My feelings are mixed between fuzziness of his almost declaration and fear for whether I'm ready to go through this right now; and I unknowingly take a large gulp of my drink. When I place my glass back down on the table, my face is met with his, as he slides over toward me closing the already small gap between us.

Oh my.

Placing my hands nervously in my lap - I tense. He leans his resilient arm onto the back of the booth behind me, our knees barely touching under the table. The atmosphere around us thickening like it does, making my edgy state even worse until I really look into his eyes. They are completely open. For the first time since I met him, I feel like he is willing me deep into his soul for me to see his vulnerability; wanting me to _really_ see him. I become mesmerised by his gorgeous blue eyes, so clear, so perfect, that they're both painful and desirable to look into. He delicately raises his hand towards my cheek and ever so gently slides a stray loose curl behind my ear.

"Do you have any idea how exquisite you are?" He tenderly strokes my cheek as his warm, enchanting breath surrounds me, making me feel so light headed I could almost float to the ceiling.

What me?

It suddenly feels like we are the only two people in the world. That this isn't reality at all. All I can manage is a slight shake of my head to seemingly answer his rhetorical question.

He smiles gloriously.

"So intriguing. Mysterious. So innocent."

I exhale slowly. I'm not going to let him silence our conversation with his charm. As irresistible as he is when we are this close, I know where this leads and I am determined to get some more out of him to salvage my heart further turmoil.

"Why do you say that?" I ask with unsteadiness in my voice.

"I don't know..."

He pauses for a moment trying to gather more words, as I wait eagerly in anticipation. "You are so different to anyone I have met before." He shakes his head confirming his statement. "The night we met..."

I swallow shyly as I recall the emotional drunken state I was in, before he rests his hand around the nape of neck.

"You were in so much pain, so sad. There was something inside me that wanted to stop the hurt. I can't explain it, but I just knew I never wanted to see you in that much pain again."

I glance downward, embarrassed by his words knotting my fingers together in my lap. I shrug my shoulders not knowing how to respond, until I feel his barely-there touch on the tip of my chin, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze, like he has done so many times before.

"What is it?" he urges.

Taking a slow breath, I gather my words. "You don't even know me."

"Not as much as I'd like. Not yet anyway," his eyes blaze with emotion.

"Why? So you can get bored and move onto someone else..." I mumble under my breath.

Shit!

Did he hear that?

He eyes me suspiciously.

I shrug, before continuing. "It's just, you don't really date anyone do you?" Having to talk about these things out loud is something I'm not attuned to and despite the uneasiness I hold my breath awaiting his answer.

He eyes me more intriguingly. "No. No I don't really... date," he answers before suddenly letting go off my chin and turning away from me, reaching for his juice. "Not since... well not for a long time anyway."

He takes a long deliberated sip of his drink and turns his body to face straight on, dropping his arm from the lounge behind me to the table in front of him.

"Why?" I ask before I have time to stop.

He smiles. Playfully.

"Ah, now maybe that is a long, complicated story that I am not really ready to talk about just yet." He smirks at me from the side of his face and I remember that same quote I had dictated back at the Sydney restaurant when he probed a little too far for my liking. I am simultaneously taken back by his playfulness, and surprised that he remembered something I had said.

I giggle.

"Well when you are I'd like to hear it, I'd like to hear all about you."

On the way back to my hotel, the silence in the car was quite deafening as was the reminder of our dinner. Strange enough, I was starting to get used to it which made it more familiar. Knowing our date was almost at its end, I was bursting internally to ask him more questions. At the rate I have been going so far, I will never learn anything about him.

"So, you were right about the Sangria," I start. "I did like it. It was really sweet."

A bit of pointless conversation, is a good start for more probing.

I see his lips turn upwards while still focusing his eyes on the road ahead.

"Sweet like you," he whispers to himself before adding more loudly, "I'm glad you liked it."

Oh my.

I'm thankful the car is so dark inside so he can't see my now red face from his near silent comment. I edge a throaty cough.

"So, the work you had to, ah, focus on today...." I start, as those beautiful women sitting in his backyard flash in my mind. "Did you sort out the emergency?" I add quickly, shaking the unwanted images away.

"It wasn't an emergency Penelope. Just things going on right now, that's proving difficult for staff to adhere to their deadlines," he answers through a tense jaw before sighing sorrowfully, bringing his voice back to his monotone. "Sometimes it's just easier to do things yourself."

Control freak maybe?

"So why have staff for?" I mumble.

"My thoughts exactly!"

Yep. Control freak!

I grin inside. "So, what kinds of things are you working on? Aren't you in a band?"

"Obviously. But I have other projects I work on as well. I'm into photography and film making..." he trails off like he's in deep thought. "I've been working with some partner marketing businesses in the industry and other things along those lines." He shrugs his shoulders, like he is used to such a hectic schedule. I can't help but notice how much more voluntary he is with information when it is about his interests. He is obviously passionate about his work.

And I'm technically unemployed!

"Do you even have time to do things you like to do, other than just work?"

"You mean like taking an attractive woman out to dinner?" he teases through his teeth, allowing them to glisten in the dim lighted car. "My life is my work," he responds matter of fact.

"But don't you find it lonely?"

Contemplating not having any kind of a life except what I do for a living, is really hard for me to imagine. Most of my happiest, most satisfying moments were in my personal life. My heart sobs a little at the memory of those happier times.

"It's never lonely," he states, like the mere thought is absurd. "Most of the people I work with are friends, family even. And creatively, my work is very fulfilling."

Oh.

An image of the teenage girls screaming after him at The Rocks flashes to mind and I wonder whether that's the kind of fulfilment he is referring to.

"Which leads me to wonder?"

Oh shit, what?

I turn my eyes toward him abruptly.

"When we met, you didn't know who I was?"

"Umm, no."

Should I have?

Will he be mad?

Where's this going?

He ponders for a moment. "Yet after that first night you did?"

"Umm, yes."

He pauses. "And you still chose to come out with me?" He turns his face briefly from the road, looking at me puzzled with intrigue. I screw my face up slightly, still confused by his question.

"Umm, yes. Although, if you remember, I wasn't jumping out of my skin!" I giggle trying to lighten the current mood. He doesn't follow.

"So why did you decide to still see me?"

I'm so confused.

"Should I not have?" I start throwing around the many flashes from all of our encounters to comments he has made throughout the short time I have known him. Before remembering the assurance he gave me at his Sydney hotel. The remark he made about him knowing, 'I wasn't a one night stand kind of girl'.

Is he implying that I am sending him the wrong message?

I willingly came out with him, knowing he probably only fucked women and not dated them!?

Is this what he's referring to?!

"I didn't want to be on Google with you if that's what you mean," I snort sharply, in response to my buzzing thoughts.

"That's not what I meant. You just aren't the kind of woman who seems to be interested in... well, what _most_ are interested in with me," he rolls his eyes emphasising the word 'me'. It instantly makes me even more intrigued, when in an instant a thought creeps into my head.

In the darkness, I can see it. I can feel it. The vulnerability. Despite his abruptness, sometimes rudeness and his extreme lack of opening up about himself - I feel it. A wound.

Maybe he's been hurt before from someone who has wanted him only for his lifestyle?

Perhaps they left because of it?

Maybe used him for his status?

I let out a silent cry for his tortured soul that has deep unhealed scars. Wounds perhaps we could try and heal together. Busy speculating before I can really think through my next sentence, the words trickle out of me.

"Well, to be honest I was curious. I was a drunken mess the first night we met, but you still insisted on seeing me again. Why?"

He pauses for a moment, and I'm unsure as to whether it's because he doesn't want to tell me, or because he is trying to co-ordinate his words into a way he wants to reveal. I wait patiently, the silence in the air excruciating with the anxious wait.

"Well at first because I knew you didn't recognise me," he starts. "You have no idea how refreshing that was," he sniggers.

I roll my eyes.

"And, well, you are obviously beautiful, but totally unaware, naive to your beauty, which again is refreshing." I notice a genuine smile come across his face and I find myself intervene automatically.

"But I was a complete emotional mess! I mean, unless you just wanted to....." I pause, blushing, before adding, "I mean, how would you even find that behaviour appealing?" I blurt out, confident that he didn't want me for that. I wouldn't be sitting here on the other side of the world with him now if that's all he wanted from me.

Would I?

"Just wanted to what...?" he teases cheekily, smirking at me making me squirm in my seat. "I didn't think you were that type of girl," he adds playfully. I cringe.

"I could feel it," he states more seriously, whipping the breath right from my lungs. "I felt some kind of unspoken connection between us. Like I said those sad, but mesmerising blue eyes were in pain. I never wanted you to feel that again. Despite knowing, _really_ knowing that the right thing to do was to leave you alone - I just.... couldn't." He goes silent. Having him tell me out loud that he feels our connection makes me feel some kind of comfort, as I know I feel it too. It scares me, but I do feel it. Despite wanting to push and forge for even more information, I hesitate. He has been so open this evening that I can't bear to make him continue without angering him. I turn my gaze outside and take in the nightly scenery allowing his revelations to sink in.

As we approach the valet parking area outside the main entrance he abruptly pulls the vehicle to the side of the road and turns off his headlights; breaking me out of my daze.

Oh shit!

Has something happened?

I throw my head back and forth, trying to work out if there was some on road disturbance that may have caused us to halt so hastily.

"Is everything okay? What happened?"

I glance toward him as he sits motionless in his seat. His eyes straight ahead, almost frozen.

"Hey, are you alright?" I ask, as I take hold of his forearm, automatically checking his wellbeing.

What's wrong with him?

In slow motion, his eyes move toward my outstretched hand that rests above his elbow; his hands still gripping the wheel. He moves his other hand over the top of mine, taking a gentle hold with his arctic touch and circles his thumb across my skin.

Oh my.

I can feel my heart thud boisterously in my chest at the mere sensation of his delicate caress. Before I can fathom anything further, he leans speedily toward me capturing my lips with his. I respond willingly, but by surprise at the sudden impulse. We fervently indulge in our passionate rhythm; all lips and tongues and raw passion. As soon as there is possibly no more oxygen left he stops suddenly. Keeping his face close to mine, allowing me to feel his quickened steamy breath surge over my face. We spend a few moments sucking in air staring at each other, mere inches apart, while our pulses try to settle into their previous state.

"Where did you come from?" he asks curiously, shaking his head side to side. He tenderly strokes the back of his fingers across my now flushed cheek, his gorgeous blue eyes so warm and inviting. They are examining every inch of my face like he is trying to memorise me, as he continues his gentle torture on my skin. I literally float to the ceiling of the car and hold myself to its roof – never wanting these feelings to exit.

"Umm, thank you for dinner," I manage nervously.

He smiles.

"You are more than welcome."

Oooh I like playful Jay.

Like?

LIKE?!

Did I just admit I 'like' him?

I swallow loudly, trying to disperse the sudden anxiety that is filling my body and the ache that is appearing in my chest. The faint echo that has existed, but not felt as much until now.

"I had a great time," his voice interrupts, as he takes my hand to his experienced lips and kisses my knuckles gently. "Be careful, I might not want to let you go," he adds, as he shoots an ever-so-sexy and seemingly honest glance toward me; his eyes burning in all their blazing glory. They blanket my anxiety protectively, shoving it away with tender care.

I smile sweetly back. "Then don't," I whisper.

For only a split second more our eyes lock into an unbreakable hold. He subtly licks his lower lip, gently biting it under his teeth before turning back towards the wheel, switching on the head lights and driving into the valet. The rest happens so fast. We no sooner pull up outside the hotel and the bell boy rushes to my door and opens it.

"Ms Price."

Before I am ushered out, I feel Jay's careful touch on the top of my hand, which rests palm down on the passenger beside me. I turn my gaze from his hand to his eyes. Those penetrating, scorching eyes that are still on fire from our passionate embrace.

"I will pick you up tomorrow."

I grin sheepishly before taking the bell boys offered hand and swing my legs out of the car. I notice the door close behind me and I give the man a courteous nod, desperately trying not to sneak a look at Jay. I knew if I did, I may do something I could regret. I stride past his vehicle toward the front door before hearing his car hum past quickly and I can't halt the surge of sadness filling me. He was gone.

# Chapter Fifteen

'As the light started to fade just over the hill I could feel this perfect day nearing its inevitable end. The previous hours had passed by effortlessly, filled with the endearing sound of high pitched giggles and laughter. Glancing over towards her, I couldn't believe how much she'd grown. The fullness of her fair cheeks slightly pink from today's events and the way her caramel wavy hair cascaded untidily, across those eyes. That beautiful, captivating gaze that holds far too much depth beneath it for her young years. The same depth which reminded me of her father; whose name holds too many memories to know where to begin. As the soft swell of a single tear rises to the surface, the sunset beams brightly shining boldly in all of its glory. Only to fall moments later, behind the mountainous backdrop of our seemingly perfect day....'

"So did you miss me?"

Oooh I like playful Jay.

I smile cheekily. "Not really. I hate to break it to you but you are starting to get on my nerves."

I beam mischievously at him in the driver's seat of his Range Rover to match the mockery in my voice.

"Oh well in that case, I'll just drop you off right here then shall I?"

The grin across his face exaggerates as he harshly pulls the car onto the side of the road, the wheels skidding into the gravel. In one swift, effortless move I hear the click of his seatbelt and before I can string another thought together, I feel the possession of his lips on mine. As he pulls away from his impromptu kiss I open my eyes awkwardly, both from the unexpectedness of his action and arousal.

"Umm... okay. Is that your goodbye kiss? Do you want me to jump out now?" I giggle at my returned playfulness. For the first time in such a long time, I actually feel okay. I feel happy. The ache in my chest has been replaced with a distant hum - a vague reminder of my previous scar. But I am almost starting to feel like myself again and it feels amazing. My sudden feeling of bliss is halted momentarily, as I notice Jay still and motionless, mere inches from my face where our unplanned kiss had ended. His eyes staring at me thoughtfully, yet all of his previous mischief extinguished.

"Jay?" I ask curiously. "You know I was only kidding about jumping out right?"

He shakes his head like he was in some profound thought and slides over to his driver's seat, automatically placing his seat belt back into place securely.

"Hello....?"

"We better get going," he replies all business as usual.

I can't help but stare at him with my oversized puzzled expression still not entirely comfortable with his sudden changes in temperament. After all, you think I would be semi used to it by now.

"Going where?" I question, trying to get my thoughts back on track.

"It's a surprise."

Although I feel like I haven't really gotten to know him in all that much detail thus far, I have started to clue in that he obviously loves surprises. However somehow I don't think it's the surprise itself he loves, but the fact he likes to keep things very close to his chest. He never reveals anymore than he has to most of the time. But sometimes, just sometimes I can see those windows open and he lets me inch further into his soul. The mere thought that the tiny window of opportunity may occur again today, has me eager to see what lies ahead.

After the remainder of our silent drive we arrive at a dirt car park in some kind of recreational area. The dust hazing past us as he pulls his vehicle into one of the many available spaces. I shift my head around side to side taking in our surroundings but all I can see through the foggy dust-mosphere is lots of trees and an empty soil-filled parking area.

"We're here," he states coolly, un-buckling his seatbelt and immediately stepping out of the car.

We're here?

We're where?

I turn suddenly to my passenger door as he is standing there with one hand on the opened door, and his other bent at the elbow for me to grasp for support.

Yes never his hand, I beat my conscious to the remark.

I clasp my palm around his lean, sturdy arm and carefully step out onto the dusty gravel, slightly uneasy on my feet as the rocks crinkle beneath my shoes. I scrunch up my nose as I look down toward my strappy cork wedges.

Not the best footwear for this kind of date.

I am instantly annoyed that he wouldn't tell me where I was going so I could have dressed more appropriately. The tight light-wash jeans and navy singlet wasn't exactly thrown together with an intention to go hiking. Nor would I have spent a good half an hour straightening my hair. He, on the other hand, is in his trademark denim, plain black tee, and combat boots.

"Hey, don't worry," he soothes my un-worded worry. "I got you."

I lean my weight toward him absorbing the electricity that radiates between us, as he leads me across the gravel cautiously as my inappropriate footwear allows, until we are met with a subtle grassy opening. The surrounding overgrown greenery makes any view beyond that impossible, leading to me wonder where the hell he seems to be taking me. The minimal clearing to my right runs up into a steep hill and as I eye my environment; it's obvious that this incline is where the day is starting.

I shift my eyes down at my shoes once again, agitated that not only did he not warn me about our mini hiking adventure, but the fact that I may also ruin my shoes. Being currently unemployed means I have to look after the few good pairs I owned.

"Are we going up there?" I ask rhetorically, as I _know_ we are in fact going un-pathed climb. When I finally settle my sight on him I gasp; as his eyes glisten like diamonds in the open sunshine. I take a deep breath to settle my nerves and pray I am not too obvious with my adoration. I'm unsure if he even responded, as I was far too hypnotized by his exquisiteness to hear anything else. I just followed. My hand still grasping his firm arm for support, as I manoeuvred with him as my guide through the grassy hill.

After what felt like an eternity of dodging rocks, tripping over and swatting at overhung branches like they were pesky flies buzzing around me, I feel him start to slow as we approach flat ground.

Finally!

As I steady my stance on the now level grass I let go of his arm, forcing the heightened sensation to sadly leave my touch. Re-adjusting my singlet and feeling beads of sweat on my legs from our treacherous walk in my tight denim - I move my gaze upwards.

I am gobsmacked. Completely in awe. At that moment, the previous hour of an unwanted hike had all been forgotten as the view I am confronted with is magnificent. Taking tiny, slow-motion steps towards the cliff face at the top of the hill, the 180 degree view of Los Angeles is breathtakingly beautiful. Wide-eyed and bewildered I halt at the precipitous absorbing every inch of the city. I try to make out the buildings I can see from up here, but without really knowing that much about it - I fall short. But I don't care. I feel so much triumph and power being so on top of the world from up here. All of my mixed emotions, the highs and lows from the past few weeks, the past few months begin to overwhelm me. Despite feeling like screaming, just to let all of it out finally, tears begin to trickle down my flustered cheeks unconsciously.

Why am I crying?

I sniff hoarsely, wiping the wetness off my face yet still keeping my gaze on the captivating view below.

"What's wrong?" I hear Jay's now familiar voice but don't really take in his words. It's only when I feel an icy shiver running down my spine that I awake from my trance and turn to look at him. His hand placed carefully on my lower back and as our eyes meet, the sensation stings with more intensity. He reaches his other hand to my cheek, wiping some of the salty tears away with such fragility that if it were not for the sting of his touch, I wouldn't even know he was doing so.

"What is it? I can't fucking stand to see you cry," he breathes thoughtfully.

All of the emotions built up inside swirl around, exhausting me and I can't really find any words to tell him that I'm fine. Breaking our eye lock for a moment, I look down, trying to gain some kind of focus. To try and reconcile the fact that I almost feel normal again, despite the complete un-normalcy of this situation with him. For some reason though, the words won't seem to form. I stare blankly at the ground wanting to stop his concern, but my brain and mouth don't want to co-operate.

"Penelope your feet! Why the hell didn't you tell me? Come. Come," he states deep in his throat. In my tranced state I find myself looking towards the ground as I try to focus my vision on his words.

My feet?

It is then I notice some trickles of blood on my big toes where the new straps of my wedges must have cut into my skin from the long walk.

I didn't even notice they were hurting.

Are they?

The view completely overtook my emotions as soon as we reached the top, and without understanding, I let out an inappropriate giggle.

"It's not funny," he scolds. He swoops me up in his lean, resilient embrace and I robotically wrap my arms around his neck for support. My entire side is tucked into his chest, the electrifying current aims straight for my core, as my innocence is engulfed by his sensual experience. Our eyes lock, as I see his windows evolve from angered and closed, to a much softer and more open emotion.

He takes a couple of steady paces back away from the cliff's edge and leaning down on one knee, reluctantly places me down onto the lush, green grass now beneath me. Unwilling to break eye contact, my heart begins to thump loudly in my chest, so much so I can feel the beat up towards my ears.

I gulp.

"Why didn't you tell me your feet were hurting like this?" he questions much calmer than before and despite not taking his eyes off mine, I feel his skilled fingers fiddling with the buckle on my shoes.

"They weren't hurting me," I barely whisper.

"Weren't hurting you? Have you seen them?" He points to the dried blood and dirt stains on my feet, dubiously. I pull my eyes away from him grudgingly to inspect the damage by moving my feet from side to side before returning my gaze to his.

"I don't know..."

He rolls his eyes placing my shoes beside me on the grass. He leans his long body backwards stretching out beside me, turning his focus out onto the magnificent view.

Oh crap.

Have I made him angry?

I scramble for the right thing to say. Not wanting this man I honestly barely know to be so annoyed with me, especially when I am out in the middle of nowhere.

Say something Penny.

Anything!

"I used to come here."

Phew, he's talking.

I let out a sigh of relief as his edgy voice slices through the air with such precision and immediately my panic stops. I stare intently. Watching, waiting for his next move, comment, anything. As I gaze at his toned body propped on his elbows in the long unkempt grass, the sun shining down on his fair skin – I shudder all over. How I ended up here, in this place, with this gorgeous man beside me is truly unbelievable. His defined muscles barely filling his oversized grey tee, his legs crossed over at the ankles beneath his slim fit jeans. Revealing those same boots with the laces undone; his favourite pair it would seem. He looks so obviously sexy.

"I used to come here a lot actually. I haven't been here for awhile. A long while," he sighs heavily.

"Why not?" I ask my eyes not moving from him. Taking full advantage of that fact he is telling me something about himself which I've realised in such a short time, doesn't happen too often. He is silent for a moment as he seems lost in thought. I wait patiently.

"I used to come here when I wanted to be by myself. It's so peaceful and the view is beyond. But it's nice to be able to come here and feel significant."

Huh?!

Significant?

My entire face crinkles in response. "What do you mean significant? You seem like you would have a pretty amazing life."

"It can become such a fucking circus. It's not real. The industry I work in is so obscured from truth, from reason, that you find yourself having to play this character. Trying to be what _they_ want all of the time. Trying to enjoy the parts you are passionate about, but having it destroyed by all the other bullshit. Trying to keep your private life, just that. Private. So it doesn't play out in the media like some trashy sitcom. Your choices aren't really your choices, but are inevitable outcomes that come from this life and the sacrifices you have to make...."

He turns his body on its side, so he's perched on only one elbow and turns his focus on me. Our eyes locking like attracting magnets once more.

"People think they know you. Like _really_ know you. They would claim their lives just to be with you. They can...." he stops. Pausing perhaps re-thinking his confession. He takes a breath.

"It can drive you to insanity."

The confessions of Jay... a tortured soul... a lonely soul.....

"It used to feel good to come here and feel the power and enormity of this spot. Feeling like you are just an ant in this huge world. That you could almost just be who you are. No sacrifice or other crap. Just be yourself. Completely. I used to believe it was possible..." he trails off still penetrating his gaze into mine.

"Well you should be who you are and who you want. Because that is who got you where you are right now. In your success... in your life.... in this moment..."

I surprise myself at the certainty of my words. The months of heartbreak I had been going through was me doing just that. Feeling worthless, insignificant like I couldn't imagine surviving in my world, and I was drowning. I wanted so much to be myself and continue on in my life, however I couldn't seem to find my way. I was trapped, going through the motions playing out my horror story over and over. I too, wanted to feel significant again – feel like I mattered. To feel like I could have a life, other than the one I had pictured; that it was possible.

I could.

Why can I now just see that?

I beam enormously. It was a revelation. Perhaps that was this fierce intensity I felt when I met Jay that very first evening. On some deep, profound level, despite us being worlds apart – we were the same.

"God you are so beautiful," he states interrupting my meditations and instantly I flush all over.

"So, when was the last time you came out here?" I scramble trying to distract myself from my heated cheeks. He glances away from me, pondering whilst taking in the scenery. Sitting here taking in the view of him laying beside me, so long and effortlessly sexy. For the first time I could really appreciate how attractive he was. He _looked_ like a freaking rock star. I smile in a daydream just absorbing him. Every. Single. Inch.

"Shit. Ages... three years," he hesitates sombrely. His tone enough to shake me from my daze as I feel the air change between us. Before I can stop myself, I am already forging ahead with more queries.

"What made you not want to come back here?"

I take a deep breath, staring at him eagerly awaiting his response. My thoughts buzzing about the reasons he didn't think it was possible to live the way he wanted to anymore, and why he lost his faith in what this place means to him.

He takes a burdened breath. "Tahlia."

Focusing on the 'T' and the way his voice broke a little, was like he hadn't mentioned that name for some time. Perhaps it was painful memory for him, a memory that he didn't want to remember. I shudder.

Tahlia?

Who the fuck is Tahlia?

# Chapter Sixteen

Preparing myself for the 'X-Files' I realise that this conversation could get deep, profoundly deeper than I would be prepared to talk about myself right now. But intrigued by his confession I couldn't help but press on.

"Who's Tahlia?"

I notice him shift uncomfortably, regretfully – like he hated himself for mentioning her.

"She was....." he pauses as I stare ever so intently on him. "She was just a girl."

He stands immediately and offers his outstretched forearm, his eyes returning to their usual standoffish way. "We should go."

Now?!

I was almost ready to hear about this woman who tore him away from his favourite place and the chance for him to live the way he wanted. He has basically baited me with this information and left me hanging impatiently. I can't help but let out an over-the-top sigh, hoping he notices my disappointment as I reach up from my seated state slinging my wedges in my free hand. He pulls me up beside him and I sway from side to side uncomfortable on my bloodied toes.

Ouch.

They are definitely a little tender.

"Here."

In one swoop he sweeps me up again in his capable arms and I fumble my free hand around his neck, not relishing in the closeness of our bodies and the sensations that accompany it. Suddenly realising he is going to carry me all the way down the hill, I blush and begin to refute.

"Please Jay. I can manage. Honestly. You don't need to carry me," I stumble panicked. The girlie insecurities about how heavy I would be when his usual companions would be lucky to weigh the same as an infant, rise to the surface.

"I can't have you walk down there without footwear and you can't put those shoes on either," he states, as he begins heading towards the grassy decent.

"Seriously Jay I can....."

"Penelope," he interjects.

Case closed.

From his tone, I don't continue to debate. I hang on begrudgingly as images of the gorgeous models and actresses that he has been snapped with on the internet, fill my mind uncomfortably.

When we finally reach the bottom, he doesn't put me back down until we are at the passenger door to his SUV. As I glance around I am a little surprised to see that the gravel car park is still empty and at the same understand why this secluded spot used to be so important to him. I can imagine that finding somewhere outside the comfort of his own home where he can be by himself - would not be easy. As I hop into the vehicle and drop my wedges to the floor, I inspect my feet which are a pretty horrific picture. The dirt stuck to the wetness of the blood, has dried it into a blackened red, making them look like I ran through a bed of thorns.

"You might have to get them looked at."

I tear my gaze from the bloodied mess to Jay, as he takes his place in the driver's seat beside me. I smile convincingly.

"I'm okay. Really, they just need a good soak," I answer, trying to rid the images of those perfect women who would never have had paraded such ugly feet in front of him. He turns his attention to his phone that seems to be silently buzzing in the centre console of the dashboard. He picks it up immediately.

"What," he snaps.

I listen closely to see if I can make out the other voice, but it's only distorted mumble.

"Yes, BarEnz. I haven't forgotten. We are on our way now."

I stare obviously at him while he is listening to his caller, his expression tensing with each and every second that passes.

"Yes," he replies, before looking at me awkwardly and turning toward his door. " _We_." He gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Shit, was he talking about me?

Who is he talking to?

I silence everything I possibly can to try and hear what he is saying, but he is talking too softly for me to hear anything. I keep my eyes fixed on him, perhaps to decipher his facial expressions or learn the art of lip reading this very instant. He glances towards me and looks painfully sad, hauntingly sad. I swallow heavily.

After a few stiff paces in front of the car and kicking his boots at the random small rocks, he puts his phone back in his pocket and heads towards his door; halting for a minute before climbing back in. I keep my eyes glued to him and watch as he automatically fastens his belt over his lap and starts the engine.

"E-everything okay?" I ask shakily. The air in the car suddenly feeling awkward and uneasy, a sizeable contrast to what happened earlier.

"Yes," he responds sharply.

As we speed off, dust whizzing around us furiously, I feel ill. I have been getting used to his mood swings, well kind of used to them, but this was something entirely different. Something I haven't witnessed so far. I try to take my attention off him and look outside my window to my surroundings, but my mind can't pre-occupy itself. Not whilst there is such agonising uneasiness in the air and despite my better judgement, I find myself unable to help but break the silence.

After all, I couldn't make it any worse could I?

I edge an obvious throaty cough. "So where are we going?"

Subtle Penny. Real Subtle.

I roll my eyes.

Silence.

"Jay?" I ask tentatively.

He shakes his head as if deep in his own thoughts and miles away from me. "What?" he asks unaware.

"Where are we going?" I repeat slowly.

"I have something I need to do tonight, a work function if you will...." he starts cautiously before my over-anxiousness interrupts him.

"Sounds great. I would love to."

He glances at me, peripherally, still keeping his head focused towards the road ahead. "I ah, thought you might want to go back to the hotel and rest. You have cut your feet up a little, so it might be best to stay off them and I can meet you afterwards."

I squirm uncomfortably. His tone is cold and insincere. The man who had opened up to me in his favourite spot has vanished into thin air. This one was professional Jay. Routine Jay. The man who had shut himself off from the world for reasons I am still yet to discover in full. The thoughts surrounding me make me sad and in direct response I reach over to his forearm which is gripping the wheel. I gently wrap my fingers around him emotionally.

"My feet are okay. Really."

He glances at my touch and shrugs me off him immediately making me feel further uncomfortable. I'm mortified that my bold action has been rejected.

"I insist Penelope. Please. I need to take you back. Now."

I don't reply. It takes everything inside me not to fall into character and listen to my scar beckon. For the remainder of the journey I grip my stomach just wishing the car would stop already. Jay is so rigid, so callous, and distant – I feel sick. As we approach the valet I am already unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the handle before the car has come to its complete stop.

"Penelope."

Jay reaches for my arm that rests on the seat beside me. I'm already facing the door ready to make my hasty exit. The shivers throughout my body explode at his sudden touch and the hovering tear breaks through the dam wall.

"I will come back later, when I am finished alright?"

There is a needing sound to his voice like he is utterly torn, but I am too emotional at this point to care. I shrug him off and leap out of the car, never once turning to look at him, and allow the water to trickle down my cheeks. Before I have time to even contemplate letting him see the hurt he has caused me after he so openly told me he never wanted to - I feel the breeze from his moving car as he speeds away.

He was gone.

After soaking in the hotel bath for almost an hour I had made such an effort not to think about him. The abruptness of him dropping me back to the hotel after his strange phone call, the sudden mood change - it was all too uncomfortable. I glance down at my feet as I raise them slightly out of the bubble filled tub to see they have returned to normal. The dried blood and dirt has been replaced with wrinkly skin, from the lengthy soak and the blisters look fresh and pale.

Damn it!

What's with him?!

I splash my foot angrily back into the bath, allowing the water to spill over the edges from its force.

Why fly me over here, only to leave me here on my last night?

It doesn't make any sense.

I've been here for hours and I still haven't heard from him. My eyes drift to the scattered empty bottles of alcohol I had consumed from the mini bar, but unlike numerous times before – I don't feel guilty about my drinking. I am far too agitated to think of anything else right now.

Made some rubbish excuse about my feet and it being a work function.

Is he ashamed of me?

Does he not want people to see me with him?

But I didn't need to go in as anyone in particular!

It's not like we are even dating really....

Are we?

UGH!!

My anxiety is out of control and without my mobile I am unable to call Rosie and hash it all out with her either. Not knowing what to do and in my over-emotive state - I make a rash decision. I hop out of the bath, not even bothering to let out the water and grab the nearest towel. As I hastily make my way to the foyer, slipping on the tiles from my still drenched heels, I pick up the phone which sits on the delicate side table.

"Good evening Ms Price, how may I help you?"

"Yes, hello. Can you please call a taxi, I mean a cab. Immediately please," I state confidently.

"Of course Ms Price I will call them now and charge it to the room for you."

"Thank you."

He can afford it, adds my evil conscious.

By the time I make my way to the valet area outside the hotel, the cab is already waiting. I didn't bother to do my makeup or even dry my hair; I only piled it high on my head into a loose knot and downed another shot of alcohol. I straighten my posture and adjust my white cropped blouse, the same one I wore the first night we met and get into the backseat of the cab. The door open courtesy of the bellboy.

"Enjoy your evening Ms Price."

I smile towards him as he closes the cab door.

"Where to Miss?"

As I recall the conversation I heard while he was on the phone earlier, the only part I remember besides his frosty reception, was a name.

Here goes.

"Umm, BarEnz?"

I hope that's an actual place.

"I don't have an address though," I add quickly.

The driver chuckles. "I know where it is. That is a very popular club here."

As he speeds off and turns up the radio, my thoughts are already in over drive.

Is he going to be mad that I followed him?

Should I really be doing this?

Should I have stayed at the hotel till later like he asked me to?

NO!

He is the one that wanted me to come here!

Why come here to sit alone in a hotel?!

Nervously my hands are fumbling in my lap, my heart is racing erratically and my head is frantically running over the entire day's events. What feels like moments later, the pounding in my chest becomes louder, deafening me as the vehicle stops.

"Here you go Miss. BarEnz."

Can I do this?

"Thank you."

I step carefully out of the taxi ignoring the gentle sway of my alcohol-induced body and notice the blaring music thumping from the building. I am surprised to see it's almost a run-down looking warehouse and as I glance at my surroundings, I notice other similar concrete boxes. If it weren't for the masses of people hovering outside, I would be thinking I could get kidnapped out here and no one would even hear my screams! As I eye the individuals loitering around outside I wrap my arms self consciously around my stomach. They are immaculately dressed and are all glamorously attractive. They look like the types of models you would see in the likes of Vogue or on a New York runway. I awkwardly re-adjust my outfit, as I feel way out of my league coming here especially on my own, but without any other real option and probably due to some liquid confidence, I had come too far to not continue. I impulsively make my way toward the front door and am surprised that the bouncer doesn't even ask me for ID. He simply opens the door to let me pass and straight away the sounds I heard outside are overbearing. My immediate reaction is to cover my ears to help conceal this noise they obviously call music; but at the slight chance I would stand out for the wrong reasons – well more than I do already, I resist.

I manoeuvre skilfully through the mass crowd which feels endless. The smell of smoke, alcohol and probably party drugs surrounds me and I begin to worry that perhaps I may have come to the wrong place. Seeing everyone sway hazily around to the strange beat makes me think that this isn't the kind of place he would even come to. Especially since he did say it was a work function.

As I continue my way through the masses ignoring the drunken headache that is starting to appear, I spot an upstairs mezzanine floor just above eye level. I squint trying to make out the people up there and miraculously I spy some dark curly hair and from where I'm standing Jay's assistant comes to mind.

Is that Amy?

A simultaneous burst of anticipation and worry hits me, but I have come too far to not press on. I search for the entrance to the mezzanine immediately and without further hesitation make my way over to it. Willingly pushing the patrons now instead of only coyly bumping past them, I begin feeling more determined than ever to see him. To find him. In the short time I had come to know him he had made me feel kind of safe again. He had given me possibility that my life would continue. I felt no longer numb after months of finding it impossible to feel anything at all. Although I find it more than difficult to admit, I do like him. A lot. I realise it's not the simplest of situations but we could try.

Couldn't we?

Maybe we can try together. With thoughts buzzing motivationally through my mind, in no time I have navigated up the metal staircase to the top of the mezzanine. There are people everywhere! I run my eyes through the scantily dressed women just praying to find those eyes penetrating mine, telling me he was happy to see me. I see the same wavy haired lady just ahead of me now and as she turns side on, I see her face. It is her. Amy. Jay's bitchy assistant that hates me. I stand on the very balls of my feet ignoring the blisters popping precisely; a sombre reminder from today's outing with him as the people in front of me block my view. There are mainly women all slouched on the couches where she is standing, some of whom she is talking to with her drink in hand.

Oh that's one of his band mates!

I see one of the guys that I recognised from Sydney slouched over a woman, a gorgeous woman. Long legs, probably a model – since everyone here looks that way. I tug at my sheer blouse again, reminding myself how I probably stand out for being un-model like in a place like this. My eyes frantically search through the girls sitting with the band member. Two, three, four women surrounding him, until I catch sight of another guy in the middle of a few other eager companions. His head is turned to the side and the taller patrons surrounding me make it hard to see properly. Edging a little closer, straining my neck and standing as tall as I can on the very tips of my toes - I keep my eyes fixed anxiously on the mystery man in the centre.

Another band mate?

Am I closer?

Jay can't be that far away!

As I take a few more steps on the moody floor, the mystery band member with his arm carelessly slouched over her shoulder turns his head front on. Even in the obscurity I can see those amazing blue eyes shimmer like stars amongst all of the insanity. A punishing strike plunges into my scar as I feel the always in waiting tears foster beneath the surface. I gasp.

It's him.

# Chapter Seventeen

I am frozen. Fighting back the flood of water that could break its banks at any moment. His body language slouched back coldly in the sofa with his arm draped effortlessly over her shoulder and surrounded by many others; re-enacting the same pictures that had flooded my google search. I swallow harshly. My eyes dart from his impassive facial expression, to the good-looking company draping themselves all over him and touching his body like they own him. Unable to look away I stretch higher, squashing the already tender sores on my feet so I can keep watching the tragic before me unfold. I search for his eyes hoping they find mine, so they can make that connection like we had since we met. But his disinterested face makes him look like a completely different person. A stranger.

Well technically...

Shut up conscious!

I feel so humiliated. How I could even think that a guy like him would be interested in me and that I could even try to be a part of his life. Of this world. That I so clearly do not fit into.

Was I trying to rebound?

NO.

I wasn't even wanting a relationship or anything at all with anyone.

I feel sickened. The depression starting to reclaim its comfy home once again. I force my eyes away from the calamity unfurling before me to regard my plain outfit and petite body, which was nothing compared to these people. This place. This scene that he is obviously used to. I wrap my arms around my stomach, both from my insecure thoughts and the nauseating feelings starting to rumble in my belly.

"What are you doing here?"

Oh shit.

Amy has taken her stance directly in front of me cutting off my panic and turning it to terror. One hand is firm on her narrow hip and the other with some kind of drink in hand. One that smelled like rum, or something as strong and vile as she appeared to be.

"I told Jay not to bring you here," she slurs, sending her vulgar breath of alcohol and cigarettes all over me.

I cough a little.

She told him?

"He didn't... I ah.... I....." I stutter, trying to find the right words.

"I see."

Her face begins filling with a seedy satisfied smile that sends the chunks to my throat. Any further turmoil and I just know I will be spilling my insides all over the floor; hopefully I can at least ruin her shoes in the process. She turns her head, glancing over her shoulder towards him before looking back at me, grinning sinisterly. "Well you know I can go and tell him you are here if you like?"

"Oh please no, I just need to....go," I hastily reply fighting the sobs.

I just need to get out here!

Amy sneers again. "Yes, that might be best. That would be quite embarrassing for you," she says as she eyes me up and down. "As you can see he doesn't care about you at all. You were just an amusement for him. Something to pass the time..."

I don't hear the rest of her bitter words. The salt from my tears is all I can taste as I can no longer hold the flood gates closed. The thumping beat of the overbearing music pulsating in my head, the surrounding warehouse blurry - a result of my watery eyes. I glance over her shoulder towards him so I can take in one last image, and am horrified to see him looking in our direction. He begins stretching his neck, trying to see us over the masses of people that fill the space between us. Between him. With his ladies.

I am going to be sick.

His eyes turn suddenly from disinterest to... concern? He hoists himself up instantly, disregarding the companions draped over him like he suddenly got too hot for a blanket and begins galloping his way towards us.

Fuck!

I turn and scamper away hoping he won't catch me. Her horrible words tug hard at my wounded heart after having come so far today and finally acknowledging my feelings for him, to have them now crash down around me. It was so unbearable I really didn't know how I was even functioning. I was shoving past people rudely; the tears rushing down my face and into my mouth. So many emotions erupting, brutally tearing open old wounds revealing fleshier ones. Wounds more painful than you could imagine. Finally fresh air hits me stiff in the face as I heave the entrance door open past the bouncer and head straight towards the street. Sobbing hard, gasping for breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks harshly and not caring who was around to see me such in such a state. I needed to escape.

"Penelope!"

The American accent I had come to like oozed through the night air speaking directly to the ill contents in my stomach. I didn't turn around but halted at the curb, hoping a taxi would appear from somewhere. Anywhere. To save me as _he_ once had.

"Penelope!"

I feel his icy body radiate beside me as his hand clasps my elbow, urging me to turn around.

"Don't touch me!" I abruptly reply, as I jerk away from him irrationally.

As I am forced to face him, I am taken back by how different he looks up close. His eyes are glazed over and he isn't his usual rigid self. Those beautiful blue eyes are bloodshot, red and are filled with pain and guilt.

"This is why you brushed me off this afternoon?" I question firmly.

"Penelope, please, don't. Let me explain," he starts slowly.

"Explain? You don't need to explain anything. You don't owe me an explanation Jay," I state strongly, more confident that I would have thought possible given the circumstances.

"Yes. Y-Yes I do. You don't understand. This isn't. It's not. Umm..." he shakes his head like he's trying to find the words. The vapour from his breath gradually reaches my scent and the strong linger of alcohol is all I can make out.

"Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?" I ask surprised, remembering him telling me at dinner only the previous night he doesn't drink. 'Not anymore' were his exact words.

"I can't believe it! You lied? Why would you even lie about that? You must think I am a real fucking idiot!"

What was I thinking?!

I shake my head with annoyance mostly from my naive stupidity.

"Penelope, it's not like that. This is my job. It's what I do. It doesn't mean anything." He reaches for my arm again, but I shrug it off with much more force.

"Doesn't mean anything?" I repeat his last line dubiously.

"No. It doesn't. This, all of it." He waves his hands around himself, flapping about awkwardly from his drunken state. "Doesn't mean anything." He stops his motioning and settles his eyes on me. Penetrating them consciously into mine until they lock; the usual vigour building precipitously. "But this...."

He motions his hand between himself and me in the tense but vacant space between us. "This _does_ mean something to me."

Tears stream down my face urgently. I just can't do this again. I was already hurt by someone I cared for before and I barely know Jay, and I am already dealing with lies. I just can't do this. I won't survive. I know I won't. I shake my head at him, at his words doubtfully. His eyes deepen with more sorrow as he immediately nods to confirm his slurred declaration.

"It does Penelope. It means something. It's why. It's the reason I didn't just want to have sex with you. Why I still don't yet. Sex is just sex and has been. It has been for a long time for me. I don't only want that with you. I haven't been fair.... I've been too scared to try this again after what happened before, but I want to with you. I can't walk away. I don't..... I want... I want ...... you."

He reaches for my wrist again, but I brush him off. I am too numb to even race my thoughts over his confession. To try to decipher his drunken slur of supposed honesty. I don't even know him. I thought I may have, at least a little, but I have no idea at this point of anything. I'm cut.

"Penny...."

It was the first time he had called me Penny. My heart stung at the sweetness with which it sounded from his lips, calling me my nickname only those close to me called me, but physically and emotionally I was wrecked.

Please anyone get me out of here.

I squint as the lights from a taxi glow towards me answering my silent prayer and I am relieved I can finally escape him. Bathing in the salty water from my runaway emotions, I turn away ignoring him and raise my arm signalling the approaching vehicle.

"There you are! We missed you baby."

I glance over my shoulder as the car pulls up to see a long-legged strawberry blonde stagger over towards him, as she leans her slender arm on him suggestively. Devouring his body with her unfocused brown eyes. Her fumbling hands a clear indication she was drunk, or worse; but I still couldn't hide my jealousy. Her outfit mirrored mine tonight, but I felt uncomfortable at how amazing she made it look. All leg and midriff. I roll my eyes and swallow the vile down my throat back into place. He shuffles out from underneath her touch and I quickly open the taxi door and slide in hurriedly. As I slam it closed he props his hands on the window heavily and stares directly at me. His eyes are electrifying. He's desperate. He's begging me. It's excruciatingly painful to witness.

"Penny," he pleads, not wavering his intense stare through the window; the only thing keeping us apart at this minute. The glass being far too fragile to contain such emotions. I notice his eyes well. Not allowing water to escape but allowing his beautiful blue seas to drown as they become glassier every second that ticks by. Not being able to take it anymore I turn to the driver unlocking our hold. Relief overcomes me immediately.

"Hotel Presidio."

Only a moment later we hustle away. And as I let out my held breath, I let everything go.

As I make my way back to the hotel room trying to avoid eye contact with every staff member that welcomed me back cheerily - I pack immediately. I knew he would probably follow me back here, if not right away definitely in the morning as my flight he organised leaves before lunch time. If I go to the airport now, I might be able to get on an earlier one. Carelessly throwing my clothes and toiletries into my bag I zip it up and head to the phone in the entrance way as fast and as steady as I can. Taking a short, sharp breath I lift the receiver and press for the front desk.

"Good evening Ms Price, can I assist you?"

"Umm, yes h-hello. Can you please organise another cab immediately please. I will be leaving this evening," I state trying to hold myself together long enough to finish this conversation. I cover the receiver as I sniff away some still falling tears.

"Ms Price, we have you down to leave tomorrow. I hope your stay has been pleasant?"

Fuck!

"Umm y-yes, it's been lovely. I just have a, err, a family emergency, I need to leave earlier that's all." I swallow shamelessly, hoping my lame excuse would be enough to satisfy the front desk and let this conversation be over.

"Oh I am sorry to hear that Ms Price. I will call immediately. Please just leave your key in the room when you depart. The check has been taken care of in advance."

"Thank you."

"I do hope you enjoyed your short stay with us and we will see you again next time you visit Los Angeles."

I hold in a large breath as I feel the containment of my tears begin to break its fragile barrier.

As if I will ever come back here after all of this!

I hang up before the eruption and heave out heavily, allowing the cries to bellow from my chest. I just want to go home and see Rosie. I miss talking to her. Not having my phone over here has made it hard and I was bursting more than ever just to speak to her; to have her try and piece me back together to resemble my former, semi-whole self again.

If that's even possible.

I wondered miserably. Hopefully I could get on a flight back to Sydney tonight and pretend like this never happened. Pretend like I ever came here to see him. I gulp.

Could I really forget all about him?

# Chapter Eighteen

Approaching the front door to Rosie's terrace I had felt more exhausted than I ever thought possible. Emotionally, physically, mentally - every inch of me was numb. I zombie through the front door, tossing my keys on the entrance table at the bottom of the stairs and not even having the energy to go up to my haven, I head for the sofa in the living room. I fall hard onto the plush suede face down. I don't move. Knowing Rosie is probably at work, I decide to rest here for awhile to avoid sinking in my own destructive thoughts. I close my eyes and welcome the silent darkness.

Still engulfed by obscurity, the sounds around me become evident. I open my eyes as the noise becomes too loud to ignore any longer. I raise my hands up to my ears trying to block out this clatter they supposedly call music and don't care who thinks I am uncool for doing so. I look straight on to see another sofa opposite me. Low leather draped with beautiful looking women all dressed quite sexily. I swallow heavily at how perfect they appear considering my puffy red eyes and just woken up hair would be in comparison. My eyes focus on a man sitting in the middle of the good looking ladies seated comfortably around him. Those familiar boots with the laces not done up all the way and skinny wash jeans poking out from beneath his toned thighs. My eyes rise to the man's face but he has his head turned to the side, so I am unable make out his features clearly. I squint, hoping to determine the identity of this man but to no prevail. The woman sitting directly next to him is wearing a lace figure hugging dress, revealing her sizeable cleavage bulging out the top. She is bent right over him but her face too, is blurred or something and I can't make her out. Continuing my strained glare I search harder. Suddenly the women draped all over him, looks directly at me.... I gasp in shock.

It's Rosie!

What's Rosie doing here?

Before I call out to her the mystery man with the familiar footwear turns to face me and before I can fathom anything further, I throw up on the worn floorboards. The clothes, the body language doesn't match the man's face. I'm confused. I look harder at this man staring back me whilst wiping the vile liquid off my chin. Penetrating those large eyes into mine stabbing the wound deeper in my chest. The stubble on his face, so sexy, and kept the way I used to like it... the way I still like it.

"Aargh!"

I let out a brief scream. I sit up immediately. My heart beating rapidly, pounding out of my chest and tiny drops of sweat resting on my forehead and between my breasts. I focus my eyes on my immediate surroundings and see I am still in Rosie's living room on her sofa; a panting hot mess, and _not_ in a good way.

A dream?

I rub my face a few times trying to disperse how real it felt. Being back there at the club where it all unexpectedly unfolded before me. The scene that unravelled what I thought might be me finally moving forward from this devastation. How wrong I was. My two screwed up situations, the original with Evan and the most recent with Jay, were meshing incoherently together in my nightmare.

I must be so mentally fucked up!

I shake my head and feel the slight rumble of a headache beginning. I stagger to my feet and sliding one foot in front of the other make my way to the kitchen. Carefully popping two tablets out of the packet I discard the remaining contents on the bench and reach for a half empty glass of water just over by the sink. I turn my eyes over to the wall clock and see that Rosie should be home from work soon. I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. I could only imagine how much probing she will do when she interrogates me about LA. She could make the questions of a police officer seem like a piece of cake to handle. The mere thought sends an ill feeling in my gut and instead of rehashing it all now in preparation for her questioning, I decide that once will be more than enough. I will just wing it when she gets home. Besides, I'm too drained to want to think anything at all. In a trance I catch a glimpse of my phone sitting on the paper Mache glass table. I hesitate as my heart stops beating while I contemplate reaching for it.

I wonder if he has tried to call me?

Do I want to know?

No.

Do I?

I pause at first, but my body fails me anytime Jay is even thought about. Before I realise I have the phone in my trembling hands. I take a breath and swipe open the menu screen.

3 missed calls.

1 text message.

I can't help but feel a tad relieved to see it's his number but also a lot concerned.

Do I really want to read what he has to say?

Do I?

I stare at the screen for minutes, deliberating on whether I should in fact even bother seeing what he had to say. But at the end of the day and probably due to my feelings for him, I can't help it. I just... can't.

_Jay:_ _U mean something. Everything._

_I dont want to lose u before we have even begun_

I stare blankly at it reading the words over and over again. I shake my head further confused, not knowing how to react at all.

How can he say this after what happened? Where he was and what he was doing!

I just don't get it....

I don't get it!

I don't understand anything.

Thoughts raid my brain with more puzzles and confusion. It's like my life has turned into a huge soap opera that was a minefield of uncertainty and betrayal. I toss my phone angrily onto the bench carelessly, which as a result knocks a pile of the stacked papers which were sitting precariously on the edge onto the timber floor - scattering them everywhere.

Great!

I close my eyes and rub my forehead hard, just wanting this day to be over already. I bend down to the floor, kneeling on the uncomfortable chilly timber and start gathering the mess into an unkempt pile. Stray tears fall automatically from my swollen eyes forming large circular dots on the papers in my shaky palms.

Bills, notes, shopping lists...

Papers that meant nothing and should probably be thrown out. Instead of putting it on the already crowded table with the rest of the others, I fumble my hands to the side drawer of the cupboard and try to pull it open. It seems to be jammed. I place the papers in a stack on the table, switch on the lampshade and using both free hands try to pull the drawer open. It finally screeches ajar, like it hadn't been opened for quite some time and I glance down at its contents. More useless papers, business cards and other bills; however a pale yellow note slightly sticking out from beneath the pile strikes my attention. The colour of the paper was familiar somehow which in my numb state saw me drawn to it. As I slowly take it out from underneath other bits and pieces, I hold my breath. The handwritten scrawled words instantly bring a tsunami of water to my already engorged eyes. The trembling of my hand quakes furiously and I am unable to breathe.

The note I had found on holiday while Evan was sleeping with words of his undying love scribbled in his handwriting, are staring at me loud and clear.

"Dearest Penny...

I have loved you from the moment I met you. I want to be the man you want me to be, and want to spend my life proving to you that I can be that man! I realise I have made mistakes, but please let me spend my life making it up to you. I cannot express how happy you would make me if you would agree to be my one and only until death parts us. You and me, forever.

You will always have my heart, so let me have yours to protect and love.

\- Evan "

The note, now soggy and out of focus as the tears that stream urgently down my cheeks are caught on its umbrella.

How?!

Why?!

Where did it come from?

I had never received the note from Evan as his confession – the dreaded admission on the day that changed my entire life, was delivered before the proposal was.

How did it get here?

My thoughts immediately race through the events from that night. All of it. But I was right. I never received the note from him. I had found it earlier at the hotel and knew he was going to ask me; my tears of joy and elation the day I spied this amongst his Calvin Klein's. But his declaration of guilt the next day changed all of that. He never actually got the chance to give this to me.

And now it's staring at me in the face?

It's in my hand?

How?

"Penny, you're home early. How was your trip? Tell me everything!" Rosie's chirpy voice beams from across the room as she enters and I can't do anything but stare at the wet crumpled paper in my sticky hands.

"What are you doing? Are you okay? Penny?" she continues, while I remain shocked and frozen. My eyes never switching their focus from the note in my trembling palm.

"Work was a nightmare today."

She suddenly stops what she's doing as she realises I haven't moved since she entered.

"Penny...?"

As I start to really hear her voice and with my recent dream still so fresh in mind, I begin to think of the last few months. Rosie being so over-attentive, over-guilty the whole time I was in mourning over Evan. Her graciously taking care of me, her culpable looks, her sadness... all of it.

Am I going crazy?

I don't say anything but turn to face her, still holding the handwritten note in my hand. A note I had told her about countless times over the past few months as I recounted the event that lead to our ultimate demise. As soon as I have turned to face her completely, her happy face glances at my hand and straight away her expression alters. She looks stunned. She looks shocked. I gulp. She looks _guilty_. Her eyes are instantly glassy and she begins shaking her head furiously.

"D-do you know what this is Rose?" I ask her, my voice trembling intensely.

She doesn't answer.

"Rose! D-do you know what this is? I repeat, my voice rising with the fear. She starts shaking her head, but she isn't saying no. She is saying something else. Maybe an apology? A regret? Something else...

"How did it get here?" I press again coldly.

"Penelope... I...." Her head is still shaking. Her eyes more watery. It's now obvious that there is something she does feel guilty about, and it isn't about me. I taste the salty water on my lips as I swallow nervously.

"What? What Rose? How did you get this?"

"I'm so sorry Penny," she manages as her voice quivers furiously.

I take a deep breath."Sorry for what Rose?"

"It wasn't meant to happen. None of it was meant to happen..." she mutters, as her tears stream down her cheeks. I stand motionless. Wanting, needing her words to come out of her mouth for confirmation, certainty and clarity; although I was scared to death of what could follow.

"What wasn't meant to?" I whisper and hold my breath.

"Penny. You have to understand, it stopped as soon as it had happened. There was alcohol. I was emotional. I was so alone. We realised it was the wrong thing and that was it. Please you have to understand. You have to understand. Please understand..."

Her words aren't articulate like usual and her sobs are meshing the words into the air. She's broken and on repeat.

"What stopped Rose?"

I am suspended tentatively in the air, while I nervously wait to hear the inevitable conclusion come out of her mouth. Deathly silence, except for her relentless sobs and erratic breathing lies between us, until finally she takes a rigid breath to speak.

"Evan and I... we.... we......"

I am numb. The flow of tears take free reign over my face.

I am stunned.

Devastated.

"You...? You slept with him."

I gasp. Hoping I was not right in my words. But I knew. I knew deep down that this was just about to happen.

"Penny, it only happened once and straight afterwards... it was a mistake! We knew it was wrong. He loves you so much!" Rosie is pleading with me, allowing the shame she has kept from me this whole time free into the open. I stare blank, silent, tears seeming to have stopped intermittently. The ducts are probably empty. My body is still frozen. My breathing has stopped. I can't move. This can't be happening.

"Penny. Please say something. Please," she bawls hysterically.

I continue to blink at her blankly.

"Penny!" she screams, trying to get me to snap out of my zombie-like state. The few steps she starts taking towards me immediately changes the stagnant air surrounding me. The reality of where I am and what has unfolded before me slaps me harshly across the face - waking me from my stupor. Releasing my tears once again, I stumble backwards in defence to stay a safe distance from her, halting her immediately.

"How did you get this?" is all I manage, still holding Evan's heartfelt note. She wipes her face with her fingertips smudging mascara all over her face. Her fly like eyes are so bloodshot and puffy that it conflicts with my insides. Seeing her so distraught and such a mess, yet having her make such a confession to me after all this time. My heart cries out forcefully, abruptly tearing open the wound to its former glory, letting it bleed out relentlessly.

"He, he wanted to propose, but felt so guilty about what happened... he... he wanted to tell you before he asked." She is crying hysterically now and pauses with each sentence trying to gather oxygen.

"When he told you and you walked out... he came... he came to see me. To tell me. That it had happened."

I stare bewildered with my mouth wide open.

Is this even happening?

"He was angry at me. At him. For, for what had... happened. He threw the note at me... ashamed.... guilty. He was so angry at what we had done..." she trails as she shakes her head uncontrollably.

"Penny, he loves you so much! We... we both do! I was emotional. I was so alone after Carlos left. He was there. I just... I needed someone...."

I stand still. Slipping back into my trance. Shocked. Suspended in the air above.

Is this even happening?

What is happening?

I am motionless, waiting for me to wake up hoping this is another dream like the one I had earlier; as this too, makes completely no sense to me.

"Penny, please. Say something," she pleads again through her cries. Thoughts cloud my mind making it difficult to make a sentence construct properly.

Rosie?

Evan?

The affair?

Rosie?!

This entire time she has been my rock. The one that has helped me endlessly get through it all. Trying to help me move forward and get my life back. She has been the one I have felt guilty for being an unworthy friend and this entire time _she_ was the one that had caused it. She had lied to me. Tears rush hard down my face once more as any words struggle to form without the complete connection to my brain.

"So this whole time... you... felt... guilty?" I pause. "That's why... you..."

Suddenly the images of Rosie taking me into her home so soon after our relationship broke down flash frame in my mind. How over-accommodating she was. How she would buy me so many things to make me feel better. Her mothering me and caring for me. All of it. It was all because she did this.

It's her fault!

It wasn't friendship.

It was guilt!

SHE did this!

How could she do this?

I suddenly mirror Rosie's hysterics as I can't keep it together anymore.

"How could you do this?"

"I'm so sorry Penny...."

"How could you LIE to me?!" I shriek angrily.

"Penny please. I... I didn't know how to tell you. It was one mistake! You're my best friend!" she howls.

She is a complete mess. Her face is flushed, swollen and unrecognisable. A stranger.

How could she do this?

All this time....

"Please Penny, I'm sorry. I was going to tell you I even t-told Evan, that I wanted to te..."

"You saw Evan?!" I interrupt.

Has she been seeing him behind my back all this time?

"Are you two still together? Still fucking him are you?" I ask harshly and more nasty than I would ever thought possible.

"No! Penny, he wanted to meet me. To tell me he wanted you back. He couldn't wait any longer. I told him I had to tell you. I was sc-scared. And then he showed up here. It's j-just all such a mess... I didn't know what to do. Where t-to start. How to say. I c-can't lose you," she sobs. Her words not cohesive.

"How could you do this?" I cry.

Not wanting to hear or take anymore lies, I grab my phone off the foyer table where I had discovered my worst nightmare. Stashing it safe in my grasp and using every millimetre of strength I have left - I just run. Fumbling for my purse and keys on the entrance table as I pass her.

"Penny, please wait!" I hear her hysterically call to me as I sprint out the front door and into the evening air. As the door slams loud behind me I am faced with a harsh reality.

Where can I go?

I am so alone.

I can't go and see my parents. For one, they are in Brisbane and there is no way I want to let them see me like this. It would just destroy them. I don't have any other family here to lean on.

I have no one.

Maggie?

I know she and Ryan are friends with Evan, but she's the only one I have kind of been in touch with these past few months and besides... I have nowhere else!

I keep my feet moving, heading down the street aimlessly to lessen any risk of her catching up with me. Trying to escape it all. Water flowing continuously down my face as I click on the contacts menu on my phone, the images blurry from my swollen eyes. I dialled Maggie's number semi-consciously and after only a ring or two, I hear her voice.

"Penny?" Maggie answers. She sounds happy, yet surprised I called; the instant sound of her voice making my cries far louder.

"Penny, is that you? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Rosie... it was Rosie....." I mumble tasting the salty water on my dry tongue.

"Pen, calm down, deep breaths I can't understand you," her tone high pitched with worry.

I sniff hoarsely trying to take a breath. "R-Rosie. How could she?" I sob sorrowfully.

Maggie is silent for a moment as I cry deep and constant on the phone before I finally hear her gasp.

"Oh my God. She told you."

# Chapter Nineteen

As I continue my staggered walk down the darkened street, my wounded heart tugs at Maggie's response.

"Did you know about... this?" I question hurtfully.

"Penny, where are you? I will come and get you," she firmly responds taking no notice of my query.

My head is thumping relentlessly, but I repeat my earlier question not wanting to deal with any more deceit. "Maggie, did you know?" I wipe my dreary eyes and damp nose roughly and glance back over my shoulder. Now being several houses away from hers, I drop on the gutter exhausted; sighing with relief to be off my shattered limbs.

"Penny, can't we just talk about this when I get you? It will take me at least an hour."

I can hear the fumbling of keys in the background.

"Where are you?"

"No. Maggie. Please. I can't. I can't take any more lies. Please tell me, did you know?" I weep.

She pauses for a moment, before sighing heavily. "Penny, yes I did know. Of course I knew. Evan had confided in Ryan as soon as you left. Obviously Ryan told me."

Her words are sincere yet pained. Ryan, Maggie's fiancé is best friends with Evan. I should know, the boys introduced us not long after Evan and I got serious. It was extremely fortunate that Maggs and I became such good friends, especially because the boys are so close. The two of them are like brothers. Evan being an only child had an incredibly tight bond with Ryan, so it would be stupid for me to think that he wouldn't divulge something like that to him.

But her?

"But why Maggs? Why didn't you tell me?" I plead.

"Pen, it wasn't my place. I have begged Rosie for weeks to tell you. I hated the fact that you were staying there under the circumstances. But with us being so close with Evan and your parents so far away, we just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were so depressed Penny. We didn't know what you would do if something else completely shattered you. It just wasn't my place Penny. Our first concern was always you. Please try and understand," she oozes. "Where are you?"

Too dissipated to push her further I stare at the bitumen road in an in-cohesive state. "Just down the street. Just in the street...." I mumble incoherently.

"Oh God! Please stay where you are, I will be there as fast as I can okay. Call me if you need me," she states before hanging up hurriedly. I slump in the gutter holding my phone and keys in my hands, legs sprawled straight out in front of me on the road and resting my full palms on my thighs - blankly.

Did this all really happen?

The tears have halted once more, yet my eyes are blurry and feel sore from their burden. My body is fatigued, drained more than I could think possible at this point and I sit on the kerb slouched like I'm dead. The only distraction that halts my daze is the odd car or two that zooms past me. Their headlight's causing my already damaged eyes to narrow painfully until they pass.

Why has this happened?

How could Rosie lie to me?

And all this time?

Evan?

Evan wanted to tell me the truth?

He did tell me, he was honest about the indiscretion.

Rosie has been lying to me!

Rosie!

I reminisce about the past few months. Rosie being such a great friend to me, well, so I thought, but this whole time she was lying. She had been the reason for my despair and heartbreak.

And all this time I had felt guilty about I treated her!

My thoughts drift to Evan that day he had come over suddenly. He wanted to talk to me as his heavy eyes looked desperately sad. He had wanted so much to tell me. It had been killing him. Rosie was so adamant about not speaking to him and trying to move forward, but she really wanted me not to find out. She didn't want me to discover she was the reason for all of this. I bury my head down into my thighs, resting my forehead on my hands just needing it to all stop. Wanting it to end.

Please let it end.

I hear a car approach, headlights beaming towards me, but I don't move straight away. I wait silently for the car to zoom by like the few others that had already passed, but this one's engine sounds like it slows. I glance up from my bended position narrowing my sore eyes at the lights now shining in my face. As the car approaches more slowly I notice it begin to pull to the kerb towards me. I still; watching this vehicle slow further until it comes to a halt beside me. The lights switch off. As soon as my vision comes to a better focus, I spy the recognisable white bonnet and BMW badge. Moving my stunned gaze towards the front window I see those large eyes staring despairingly in my direction. I hear the click of the door as he strides heavily towards me; like a scene from a suspense film I hear his footsteps closer and closer, louder and louder until he takes up the spare kerb a metre away from me.

"Penny, are you alright?"

The raspy voice from the man I knew so well, and the man I loved more than life itself - it was Evan.

I stare at him un-emotively as he speaks; the tears only trickling slightly from my eyes delicately.

"Penny? Are you alright?" he carefully repeats.

"Evan? What are you doing here?" I hoarsely whisper.

"Maggie called. She knew I would be on my way home from work and she wasn't comfortable with you sitting out here until she arrived. She will be a little while," he starts cautiously. I'm distracted momentarily by my phone starting to ring in my hands. Just seeing the name flash vibrantly on the screen was enough to churn my already unsettled stomach. I immediately decline the call and turn off the phone so as to avoid any further calls from her.

"Penny?" he starts as he slides himself toward me on the concrete, so slowly and carefully, yet in immediate reaction I move a slither to the opposite direction. He stops instantly.

"You don't have to babysit me I will be fine."

He sighs. "I know. But it's not safe. I will just sit here. We don't have to talk. Just so you aren't alone."

Alone....

Alone...?

The last word sinks into my clouded brain.

I am alone!

That one true honest word was fact. I had never felt more alone than I did in this very moment. Literally everything I ever knew or thought had been wrong. It had been a lie.

"I am alone...." I mumble. "I have no-one. I can't trust anyone." I could feel the rumble start to erupt.

"Penny, please don't say that. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you have everyone. You have me, you have Ros..." he starts.

"Don't you dare even say her name to me Evan!" I scream tearfully. He raises his hands up like he was in some kind of defeat and the blurry image of the mystery guy at the bar comes to my distraught mind; before drifting to the captivating blue eyes that saved me from the encounter. I shake my head bringing me back to reality and back to Evans fretful gaze like they had never left me.

"I'm so sorry Penny. It's just, we all love you. I love you..." he trails. His words are warm, honest and they feel so familiar in amongst all of this insanity.

"Evan. How could you? Honestly, how?" I plead, as I stare back into his eyes, lovingly and honestly. Hoping I could finally get some answers. How could this man that I had loved so wholly, a man who was everything to me, destroy what we had? Destroy our future together? We should have been planning a wedding right now and not dealing with all of this angst.

"Penny, do you really want to talk about this now? I mean after all you have been through tonight with Ro... with it all?" he reasons softly.

"Evan, please. After everything, I need to know."

I'm too drained to contemplate emotions or to feel. I needed clarity. I needed answers. Truth. It turns out that Maggie and Ryan knew this entire time too, which means that I wanted to not be the only one to be in the dark. I see his expression flatten as it did when he gave into my requests. He always preferred to let me have things my way to avoid arguments and to avoid making me unhappy. He always put my needs and wants before his own. It was one of the things I loved about him the most. My heart lets out a painful throb.

"Penny, it was the worst day of my life. Completely irrational. Stupid." He shakes his head at his obvious memory regretfully. I shudder.

"Please Evan..."

He takes a laboured, heartbreaking breath.

"The night you went to help Maggie move her things into her new place with Ry. You were stuck there and decided to stay the night..."

I nod at the memory. "Yeah, we got held up and it was too far for me to drive back to Sydney, so I...." I start, before hesitating as the past event starts to form in my foggy mind.

"You asked me to call in to Rosie's to check on her. She had just broken up with Carlos," he finishes my sentence before taking another heavy breath. "I called over, like you asked, and she had just started drinking. I didn't think I should leave her there. She wasn't in a good way. I offered to stay and make her some dinner, you know to try to get her to eat something," his voice shakily halts. Staring at him so intently, I listen to his every word and every breath in my manic state.

"We talked. We talked for hours. I guess I had a couple of drinks with her.... and...."

"Stop!" I raise my hand up in front of face filling the space between us. "I can't. I can't hear anymore." I shake my head, fighting the tears from falling once more.

"Penny...." he pleads reaching out his arms towards me. I shrug him off and he responds immediately by dropping his outstretched embrace. "In that moment I just wasn't myself. I wasn't thinking! I let myself get comfortable with her being our friend and I didn't expect her to...." he stops. Not wanting to put the blame on her I assume, before changing his approach.

"You and I had been together for so long. I hadn't been with anyone else for so long and I...."

"And you what? Felt like having sex with my best friend was a good place to start!" I spit at him.

"No. No. Of course not!" He shakes his head angrily, at himself mostly. Months of built up angst was finally being poured out into the air and emotionally everything was coming to its head.

"It just happened. I was drunk and wasn't thinking! I made a mistake that I will regret forever. The biggest. Fucking. Mistake."

I drop my head sorrowfully at his words turning my focus to the road, allowing the blurry images of their tryst to form in my mind the way Evan had described it.

"Penny...." He reaches his arm towards me yet again but I flinch away from him.

"Please. I have been a mess without you. I have made one mistake in all these years. One!" His words sound less glum now, but a little agitated. It immediately ignites my automatic rebuttal.

"So I guess that makes it forgivable then? Makes it alright does it?" I glare down at him. Through him. Both with saddened and angered eyes.

"That's not what I..."

"Because you had been the perfect boyfriend for so many years, you are allowed to go and sleep with my best friend?" I push sarcastically.

"Penny, no, of course...." Evan tries to reason with me but I am too far gone now to even let him speak.

"That it's probably my fault! That I wasn't enough for you?!"

"Pen..."

"That everything, this whole thing has been my fault? That I am just not worth you wanting to be with. That I don't mean anything to you," I sob relentlessly. Tears filling my mouth, dripping down onto my clothes. I throw my head into my hands and lean down into my lap still slouched on the side of the kerb. Despite most of my angered words being aimed at Evan, I felt that at least some of what I was saying wasn't really meant for him. It was meant for someone else too.

"Penny... no....no....."

His words are soft and unbearably painful. The last three months of turmoil and anguish over that day has come to its inevitable end.

"Penny."

I could hear soft sobs in Evans raspy voice. Still wailing in my lap, wet hands covering my flustered face I could feel his familiar touch around my shoulders. Instead of refusing the comfort, I just wept. He moved slightly closer, snuggling his chest closer to my shielded face stroking my hair, his arm firmly around me protectively. Minutes, maybe an hour, who really knew how long I let Evan hold me in my reckless emotional state; I just sobbed until I was unable to cry anymore. Wiping my face carefully, trying to make myself a little more respectable looking, failing more than likely, I suddenly felt embarrassed for such a display. I edge a small throaty cough and shift my shoulder slightly giving Evan the hint that I had enough. He understood immediately and removed his hand from me and sat upright, allowing me to raise my head from my lap. I could only stare into those eyes which were impossible not to fall in love with. This time, my heart didn't cry out in agony. I didn't have any more words. I didn't want to speak. I didn't even want him to say anything else. I allowed him to gaze into my eyes, to really see the hurt and pain I had gone through. To finally allow him to feel it for himself. His eyes were weary and beautifully glassy that I too, allowed myself to really see his anguish and guilt over the events that had passed. To feel his regret.

My vision is blurred suddenly by car headlights that seem to be slowing towards the kerb, directly behind Evans parked car. It immediately snaps us out of our locked gawp and after hearing the faints of a car door close, I hear the click clack on the sidewalk of someone walking hastily toward us.

"Penny?"

Maggie's comforting and familiar tone washes into the muddled air and a sudden urge to cry again fills me entirely.

"Penny?"

She doesn't take any notice of Evan slouched in the kerb as she rushes directly towards me engulfing me in her grasp and hugging me tightly.

"Are you okay?" Her tone is oh-so motherly, but at this point, I don't mind. It's comforting. I look up at her cautiously. Her reaction was enough to know what a sight I must have been - looking like I had been through a warzone most probably. Trust me, I felt like I had.

"Come on, let's go."

She wraps one of her arms tightly around my shoulders and leads me towards her car. I follow zombie-like, taking each step as she does, past Evan and towards her parked red hatchback. I take a quick glance toward him to notice he hasn't moved since her arrival. His eyes are intently watching us, stalking our every move as I make my way to her car. I robotically slump into the passenger seat letting my heavy head fall weighty to the headrest.

"Penny!"

I hear Evans call from his kerbside position as he rises decisively to his feet.

"You are enough. You mean something. Everything!"

His compassionate words reach my ears and as the second time tonight I had heard those words, I couldn't bring myself to really hear them.

# Chapter Twenty

Flashes begin appearing in my mind enthralled by darkness. Images of my friends, lovers and even strangers incoherently flash frame before merging into one another making them distorted and dishevelled. My body seamlessly adjusted to the edginess of the images alternating abruptly, too numb to even flinch with each and every frame.

Was I actually having a meltdown?

As my brain finally constructs a thought, I was not ready to become that girl. That woman who had suffered some kind of mental collapse. These past months I had come close, terrifying close at times, but I had gained a kind of inner strength since then. Somehow this time, I just knew I could overcome it. I wanted to. I force my eyes open squinting in the dark room allowing the blurry images before me to gradually come into focus. The room was small, basic even. A modest pine chest of draws on the far left of this room against stony grey walls. The same wooden side table with a small draw beside me and me, lying in a single bed of the same materials. Not wanting to move a muscle as I took my unfamiliar surroundings in, I begin motioning my thoughts to what may have lead me here.

Leaving Evan on the side of the road as Maggie took me into her supportive arms. Even in my disarrayed state I could feel the turmoil he conveyed in his eyes towards me. His sympathy for what he ultimately had caused and in turn, what I had become. I felt all of it. The drive with Maggie was incredibly long and silent. So starkly quiet that it instantly reminds me of Jay and how I had become comfortable with it. His intense and beautiful blue eyes looking straight into mine, trying to decipher me like I was some puzzle he had to solve. Those amazing few days I had had with him and then the incredibly painful one I had experienced only a day or so earlier. Feels like a lifetime ago, especially with everything that had transpired last night with Rosie.

I gulp.

Rosie. Rosie.

Rosie.

My mind saying her name over and over like it was on repeat, in disbelief over last night's discovery. It is still unbelievable that it even occurred.

Was it a dream?

Of course I knew it wasn't. Gazing around the simple, petite bedroom I was in was the proof that it had all happened and the puffiness I could feel across my eyes and cheeks were added evidence. I scramble myself up and out of the single bed and notice I am wearing a long Guns and Roses t-shirt as a nightgown. I unsteadily make my way towards the closed bedroom door and as the cool steel of the handle is underneath my sweaty palms, I hear the click as I open the door.

The sunlight bursts into the room from beyond it and I immediately squint in response as my eyes are still so tender from the previous night's avalanche. Shielding them with my other hand, I keep my feet moving along the cool tiles into the main room of what I have realised is Maggie and Ryan's place. The main room of their house was their dining, kitchen and family room, with three doorways leading off each side of the room. One was their bedroom, a bathroom and the spare room, which was where I obviously had spent the night. Taking in the details of their home, I had noticed the minor changes that had been made since I had been here last. It must have been at least six or so months since I had ventured to the coast to stay with them. When Evan and I were together we basically did everything with them. We were the awesome foursome, as lame as that sounds, but they were probably the happiest times of my life. I felt normal. I felt whole.

"You're up."

I turn toward the kitchen where Maggie is making a pot of green tea. I manage a smile toward her in reply and take up a seat on the bar stool across from her.

"Thanks for the loan," I croak in my husky voice as I tug at the Gunners shirt I was wearing.

Maggie smiles. "You know Ryan, any excuse to get those old concert tees out," she giggles sweetly to herself.

How could I forget!

We had all gone to so many concerts and festivals in our days together. We had so many adventures and such amazing times that I began feeling guilty for my lack of friendship with her after my relationship with Evan broke down. Despite the boys being the reason Maggs and I became friends, I should have tried harder. But I didn't. I threw it all away.

"Look Maggs, I'm sorry about not keeping in touch. You know it was all just..." I mumble.

"Penny, you don't have to. I understand."

I glance up at her as she stops her routine in the kitchen and is giving me her compassionate glance from across the bench.

"This has been just as awkward for us too you know," she sniffs.

"Still, I needed to say it," I smile tentatively.

She reaches out her hand from across the granite and rests it on my forearm. She grips me slightly. Taking a second to look at the gesture instantly reminds me of Jay. His touch always on anything but my palm. Yet before I have time to flinch at the painful memory, she has already pulled away.

"I feel like I need to explain why we didn't tell you about it Penny."

I immediately start shaking my head.

I know Maggie. I know why she didn't tell me. It would be different if it was just the two of us but Ryan and Evan are like brothers. Evan deserved to confide in his friend about what had happened; especially since his parents are living in England. His father was a professional rugby player in his day and had accepted a prestigious coaching job a few years back. They have lived there ever since. It always felt good knowing that Evan had Ryan here - he was his family. I also know Maggie's morals and how this must have been killing her. Despite me never contemplating ending my life, I was pretty depressed. The revelation literally took everything away from me and I can imagine she was terrified that her truth could send me to that dark place. It really fills in so many blanks from the past few months especially between us girls. The three of us had a pretty tight bond. Maggie had tried to reach me over the weeks but I wouldn't speak to anyone. It also makes sense as to why Rosie hardly spoke to Maggie anymore. Everything was starting to shine bright and make way more sense than I could have imagined.

"Do you feel like talking about last night?" she queries carefully.

I shrug my shoulders automatically. "There isn't really much else to say is there?" I sigh loudly at the words. After everything I have cried, talked and been angry more than I could possibly have imagined! Was there anymore to really discuss at this point?

"That's up to you. I'm just letting you know, I'm here if you want to talk."

I smile. I missed her friendship a lot. She just got me.

"I know, and thanks for coming and getting me last night. I know I probably didn't deserve it," I let the words escape me as I am filled with guilt over my friendship with her; adding it to the pile of emotions I was already drowning under.

"Penelope don't be silly. The whole thing has been just as awkward for me too. We never stopped caring for you. The whole thing has been so, awful." She pours herself her green tea out of the pot, and grabs another mug filling it to the brim.

"We have missed you," she states as she hands me the steaming beverage. " _All_ of us have missed you."

The tone in her voice rose slightly at the definition of 'all' and I know who she is including in that statement. I roll my eyes, not really wanting to go there about _him_ right now, so I press on with my usual rebuttal.

"Sending Evan to come and watch me last night? Pretty ballsy of you wouldn't you say?" I ask her as I take a steady sip of my tea.

"Pen I had to! I couldn't just leave you sitting out there in the street for an hour! God knows what might have happened to you in that state! He was the only person I knew who was close by that was all. I had no choice," she reasons frantically.

"It's okay, I'm not mad."

She looks surprised. But it was the truth. I wasn't mad. To be honest, it was probably the best thing being forced to get some stuff out in the open with him. Something I hadn't done since we broke up, as I was too scared to even go there. I didn't know if I wanted to hear the truth because I guess once I had I would have to admit that it was really over. That was something I couldn't bear to contemplate at that point in time.

"You're not?"

I shake my head. "No, not anymore." I take another sip of my tea and despite still feeling like I was a wreck I had a calming presence about me this morning. It was like some dead animal had finally been exterminated, after having taken up residence inside me for so long. Having that burden lifted made myself feel lighter, steadier and more at ease than I had before. "I was surprised that I wasn't that angry at Evan when he showed up last night. It gave us a chance to talk."

"Really?" she asks stunned now. Seemingly she had prepared herself for this conversation going in a completely alternate direction. "Did you find that your talk has resolved some issues between you?"

"I guess..." I struggle with her question as my brain was still a mush like jelly. "I guess we will see."

I took a long, automatic sip of my herbal tea while she continued to potter about the kitchen. My mind wanders to Evans pulsating brown eyes sorrowfully gazing deep into mine. Having the advantage of knowing him so well, that moment opened my eyes to his emotional state too. It was too obvious how much he had also been suffering like I had. Of course the past few months were from his doing, but I couldn't help feel more betrayed by Rosie. It hurts to breathe just thinking about her.

Evans actions that ill-fated night were his fault, no question. But was he allowed to make one mistake? He obviously regretted it more than life itself. His dishevelled and sombre appearance was proof of that. But _he_ was the one that told me the truth about it before proposing. He wanted to own his mistake before building our future. But Rosie? My best friend who had been with me through everything, was the one that hadn't been so forthcoming. She had lied and been dishonest this entire time. So many opportunities she had to talk to me and tell me the truth, but she had decided to be deceitful instead. I could never forgive her for it. Ever.

Could I even trust anyone anymore?

"Penny, are you going to be okay here today?"

I shake my head slightly to dissipate my thoughts and focus on Maggie standing opposite me in the kitchen.

"Sorry what?"

"Are you going to be okay here today? I have to go to work."

I stare un-emotively at her and reconcile her words still distracted by my mind. "Umm, yeah I will be fine."

She eyes me unconvincingly before nodding in confirmation. "Hmm, if you are sure. Help yourself to anything and make yourself at home Penny."

As Maggie grabs her handbag off the white dining table she heads towards me, engulfing me in her arms as I sit motionless on the stool.

"Glad you are okay."

After she lets me go I give her an acknowledging smile. She gives me a quick peck on the cheek and heads towards the front door.

"Call me if you need anything," she calls chirpily before vanishing outside. She was gone.

I take a deep breath like I had been holding it for some time and feel a little lost.

What am I going to do all day?

I glance around Maggie and Ryan's place and feel that I am just in the same place I have been for the past few months – only a different location. Months of wasted life and feeling sorry for myself was really quite pathetic.

Was I sad?

Yes.

Am I emotionally fragile?

Of course.

But I didn't want to keep being a victim of my emotions anymore. I am stronger than that. I know I am. I need to find myself a new job, a place to stay, all of it. I wanted a life again and one that didn't depend on my friends. I mean, Maggie had known all this time about Evan and didn't tell me. I understand her reasons but how can I fully trust her? I need to start looking after myself as I was all I had now. Looking down towards the worn Guns N Roses shirt, I pull at the frayed hem.

I really need to get my clothes from Rosie's.

The idea itself was daunting enough. I didn't feel ready after last night's turmoil to face the crime scene just yet. Not right away anyway.

After taking a quick shower, I threw on a loose black maxi dress that was hanging on Maggie's clothesline, and even blow dried my hair and borrowed some of her makeup. I wanted to start fresh and start getting myself back on track; and looking more presentable was the only place I could start.

I spent most of the day trawling through internet sites for jobs and advertisements for apartment rentals. Obviously I didn't have the money, but I thought my parents would be happy to lend it to me until I got back on my feet. There were a couple of positions I had sent a short resume to, both were in the city and both were accounting and finance type roles. They were large corporations too which paid quite decent. Hopefully, today was a step in the right direction to getting my life back onto course - that wasn't in the direction of disaster and pain.

Still sitting on Maggie's laptop in her living room, I hear the faint click of the front door. I halt my typing to see Ryan stroll through, tossing his keys on the kitchen bench.

"Hey Penny," his soft tone fills the previously silent air, and I suddenly realise how fast today has gone. He makes his way hastily toward me and wraps his firm arms around me tightly. "Gosh how longs it been?"

He lets his arms fall to his sides and stands in front of me; leaning his elongated frame on the wall beside him. His tan cargo pants and black polo shirt sitting firm on his muscular physique and his sandy blonde hair resting below his ears at the collar.

"Umm, awhile I guess," I smile awkwardly. Of course I knew when the last time I saw him was. It was the Sunday before Evan and I went on our vacation - the fateful trip that changed my world. The boys insisted on squeezing in a game of golf before we left so I had spent the day here with Maggie. When the boys arrived back late that afternoon, Ryan had farewelled me eagerly with a massive hug and well wishes for our little holiday. Obviously knowing that Evan had planned to propose, however the secret that I was eventually let in on, didn't end in a happily ever after.

"Well it's great to see you," he states. His words interrupting my thoughts consciously bringing me back into the room.

"How was your day?" I ask politely.

"Ah very busy, exhausting actually."

His laboured yet subtle tone was the proof to match his words and his hazel eyes drooped wearily from his long day. Ryan was a builder's assistant. His fit, defined and tall physique was a result of his job and his keen interest in sports - a shared interest he had with Evan.

"I will have to gain some energy if I am going to win golf this afternoon or I'll never hear the end of it," he chuckles.

Golf?

Images of Evan and Ryan playing together at least every time we hung out or went away on holidays immediately springs to mind. I nervously swallow at the idea that Evan would be meeting him here. I felt a little anxious at the thought of seeing him again, especially after last night as I don't really know where that leaves us now.

"I'm just going to take a shower."

He grabs a can of coke out of the fridge and heads across the main floor towards the bathroom, before disappearing behind the door.

When Ryan left, I manage to send another resume for a job opening; a new clothing label starting to expand was looking for an accounts assistant and was based right in the city. I literally hit the send key on the keyboard when I hear the front door slam closed.

"Hey, how was your day?"

Maggie had arrived home from work and wrapped her arm around my shoulders from behind me. "You looking for work?" she queries as her eyes scan the internet sites I had open.

"Need to start somewhere," I respond sarcastically and a little too convincing.

"That's great. And I ah, see you managed to clean up."

I glance down over my outfit. The black maxi I grabbed off her clothesline after my shower earlier.

"Oh sorry, I hope you don't mind, I..."

"Penny don't be silly it's fine," she cuts me off mid-sentence before letting go of my shoulders, making her way to the kitchen. I immediately close the laptop and follow her, taking up our morning position with me sitting on the bar stool across from her.

"That's great, getting yourself back on your feet. I'm proud of you." Her words are kind and sincere as she scurries around her kitchen. "Is Ryan home yet?" she questions curiously.

"Umm, yeah he went to have a shower a little while ago, said something about golf?" I bite my lip nervously. The anxiety that I felt previously is rearing its head again at the thought that I may see Evan again.

"Of course he is," she chuckles. "I swear he gets prettied up more for golf than me! I honestly worry about those two."

Maggie's laughter filling the room was quite infectious that it immediately settled my rising apprehension and made my lips turn up in a grin.

"Did you say golf?"

Ryan's deep voice is heard from behind me and before I can turn to meet him he has made his way toward Maggie in the middle of their country style kitchen.

"I swear you have a problem," she answers as they wrap their arms firmly around one another. Just watching the two of them embrace and kiss each other so lovingly made me feel empty. I turn my gaze away from them so as not to stare, but it made me envious that I didn't have that connection. I didn't even feel close to having it.

Would I ever again?

"Well I have to go, I am meeting Evan for a hit at the course."

My ears prick up sensitively to his name as I turn my focus back to the two of them in the kitchen. He bends his lofty frame down to kiss her passionately on the cheek and her sweet return smile was enough to make my heart sting.

"Don't be late."

As he exited the front door, Maggie still had her googly eyed expression sprawled across her face. She looked so in love and so happy. I missed that feeling.

"You feel like anything in particular for dinner? Ryan will be out for a few hours so maybe we can go down to the local tonight? Catch up?" Her eyes fill with anticipation and I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her.

"Sure sounds nice," I force a smile to help convince her.

"Great!" She continues fussing about before grabbing random items from the bench top and living area, tidying up before we head off.

"Are you fine to go like that or do you want to freshen up?" she asks as she moves Ryan's workbag from the dining chair to the front door.

"Umm, if it's alright to wear your dress I am pretty much ready to go."

"Penny of course it's okay, let's go!"

She reaches for her handbag as she exits the front door and I follow not-so eagerly behind.

# Chapter Twenty One

As we make our way into the local pub we find a private table near the far window of the restaurant. This place on the south coast is what you would expect from a beach side town. A little bit of country mixed with a little bit of surf. Lots of old rustic timber furniture with beach style accessories including ropes, surfboards and the odd Kombi ornament, or painting.

"What were you having to drink Penny?" she asks as soon as we take our seats.

"Umm, oh, maybe just a glass of red please?" I ask softly before adding, "Are you having one?"

"Sure, two glasses of red." She strolls off to the bar which gives me a moment to look over the menu.

Sitting in a local pub, just having a meal with my friend seems like such a normal everyday thing people do. After the week or so I've had, this is probably the most normal thing I have done. I can't help but wander my thoughts to my trip to Los Angeles only a few days ago now, which honestly seems like a forever ago. Leaving him there on the street of the hip LA club, that slutty model all over him and the events that transpired on the day of my return. My life has completely been turned upside down and has taken some incredibly abrupt turns. I begin to wonder whether I should tell Maggs about my week with him.

Should I?

My week with Jay?

No. I don't think I even need to bring it up. That book has been closed and won't reopen.

"Here."

Maggie returns and places a glass of red wine in front of me and before she evens takes her seat I immediately take a large sip. Trying to keep it together in front of her is going to be hard so some liquid confidence will be exactly what I need right now.

"Have you had a chance to go over the menu?" she asks.

"I will probably just have a salad. I'm really not that hungry."

I take another guzzle of my wine until the glass is almost empty. I hope that Maggie doesn't notice too much.

"Well, how about I order some entrees as well and we can share?" she suggests eagerly. She always had a way of trying to mother me when I needed her, but she never made it too obvious like Rosie did.

Rosie.

I blink my eyes and shake my head a little trying to forget that I even made a reference to her.

"Sure thanks," I smile in response.

"Okay, be back in a sec!"

She scurries away to the bar, presumably putting in an order for too much food that we have no way of finishing. I can't help but feel remorse over how I haven't even made an effort with her these past few months. The way she has been with me since last night has been nothing short of amazing. She has really been there for me especially when I needed her. How I couldn't even remain a true friend to her just because of the boys friendship is really immature of me.

How could I have been so selfish?

"Done!"

She sits back in her chair and hands me another glass of red wine.

"What's this?" I ask as I slide the glass over in front of me.

"Thought you might want another," she responds shooting me a not-so subtle wink, and without hesitation I raise it to my lips.

"So...."

Yes?

I glance up toward her as I place my wine glass back on the table with innocent, uncomprehending eyes.

"Are you going to talk to me about last night?" she probes.

I immediately look down at the table so as to not give away my churning emotions through my eyes. There was no way I could remain strong given the flashes of the night's events starting to reappear in my already clouded head.

"What about it exactly?" I mumble.

"Pen, I don't want to force you, you know that." Her tone is soothing, but sounds hurt.

"I just think it helps to talk about these things. It can help you to continue moving forward."

Maggie, the psychiatrist.

I remember her seeing one during the middle of last year when she lost her mother. Hearing her words cascade in the air, you could tell that her visits had an astounding effect on her. I was kind of proud of how she had really turned herself around given her difficult situation and could only hope that I would turn out the same.

"What do you want to know?" I ask as I twine my fingers around in my lap under the table.

"Anything you want to tell me."

I take a deep breath and before contemplating what I am going to start with words just start escaping from my mouth.

"I guess talking it out with Evan wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. It was kind of a relief to hear him finally tell me everything as it happened. Like the truth had been finally revealed, no more pieces to try and solve." The words sounded confirmed despite me feeling less than confident. I couldn't even look her in the eye.

"That's interesting," I hear her say, sighing loudly; and I can't help but turn my gaze upon her screwing up my face in immediate response.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just, you went through an incredible revelation last night. Finding out about Rosie, and the first thing you mention is Evan."

I stare a little dumbfounded at her for a moment. Trying to rationalise her comments and what she is trying to say to me; her underlying meaning to it all.

"So? It's just the first thing that came to mind Maggs, I'm not really in the clearest of heads right now after everything this week."

I raise my hands from my lap to my temple and lean my elbows on the table, trying to force a little annoyance to avoid any tears from running down my face. I knew if they started I wouldn't be able to stop them.

"This week? Has something else happened besides last night Penny?" she queries immediately.

"What? No!" I immediately refute.

Shit! Nothing gets past her!

I didn't feel like it was important to fill her in on everything Jay, as I had reconciled before - that chapter has closed now.

"I just mean a week ago I was trying to deal with everything and move forward, and now it's all a mess again. That's all," I lie.

I felt sick to my stomach that I was being deceitful after all the lies and betrayals I had been victim of. How I justified sinking to their level was beyond insanity.

"Okay. But don't you think it's a little strange that you mentioned Evan before anything else?" she continues seemingly buying my untruth.

"I don't know... I guess..." I trail, removing my hands from my head and placing them back in my lap.

Why was I thinking about Evan?

Being so close to him again last night was like I had never left him. As if he had never left me. The sincerity and love that radiated from him last night was exactly as I remembered it. It was like home. It was easy. It was familiar.

"It was a relief to finally talk to him about it all. Despite everything, it felt honest." I finish with as many words as I could reveal to my friend at this time. It was all I had.

"He misses you Penny," she whispers and I can tell she almost regrets pushing it so soon. I make a stern face toward her confirming that she is on the brink of my limitations today and she responds immediately - sheepishly nodding.

"Alright, I'm sorry," she states as she fiddles with the utensils on the table. A few seconds later after she composes herself a little, she takes serious focus on me once more.

"What about Rosie?"

Rosie.

That dreaded name that makes me feel physically ill. How or why she could have ever done this to me will never be fully understood, as there would never be any justifiable reason I could accept.

"What about her? If you think am I going to speak to her again then I am not even going to answer that Maggs!" I firmly reply folding my arms across my chest to enforce my words.

"I know. I'm not saying you need to. But you will need to face her eventually."

Unfortunately she was right. I needed to get my things from her place and start fresh. The thought of seeing her so soon wasn't desirable, but I needed to try and be mature about it. I needed my things. I couldn't live the rest of my life in Maggie's wardrobe and besides, I couldn't afford new clothes either.

"I know, I have to make arrangements."

"Well if you aren't ready, you know Ryan and I could get them for you?" she offers, her green eyes all sympathetic and doe-like.

"Thanks, but I have to do it."

Besides, I am all I have now.

The mere thought makes me feel so alone and vulnerable but it was the truth. If I had any chance of building some kind of life for myself, I was the one that needed to do it.

"I should go tomorrow if I can a lift into the city? I am going to stay in a hotel for a little while, just until I sort out my next move."  
"You can stay as long as you want to Penny, you know that?" she responds looking like I have offended her.

"It's not that, I just... I need to do this on my own you know. I can't rely on staying with my friend's forever. I need to be sufficient on my own."

I knew I was right. In a way I was hoping that she would plead with me to stay with them a little longer so I felt like I was still cared for and loved in some way. But she didn't. She nodded in affirmation which I should have been celebrating - but in actual fact made me sombre.

"Well I will sort out with Ryan who is taking the car tomorrow. It shouldn't be a problem for one of us to take you, if that's what you want?"

As I look straight into her eyes I can feel the resolve coming from me.

"It is."

After several more wines and less excruciating conversation, we arrived back to their place and I was a little intoxicated to say the least. The itty bitty salad I ate with the five or so wines made me more loaded than ever and I was feeling the effects in full. No sooner we pull up in her driveway and I notice the beaming white vehicle parked beside us; knowing straight away who it belonged to. In my drunken state I wasn't actually that worried about seeing him. But maybe, just maybe, I was kind of looking forward to it.

# Chapter Twenty Two

"Oh Penny are you going to be alright with this?"

I hear Maggie ask as she turns off the ignition to her modest hatchback and studies my pre-occupied stare towards Evans car.

"Of course I am alright," I inebriate confidently.

Was I?

I wasn't sure.

I hop out of the car and follow closely behind Maggie until we enter her home. As soon as the door is open my heart flutters and aches at once as I hear his too familiar throaty laughter cascade into my ears. I shut my eyes absorbing the sound fully as it takes me back to a place of familiarity. Of love.

"What's so funny?" she chuckles as she tosses her keys onto the dining table. As Maggie removes her body that shields me from sight no longer is it just his laugh I hear, but those adorable broody eyes gazing in my direction are in full view. He gulps.

"You're back!" I hear Ryan exclaim as he skips towards Maggie enthusiastically laying kisses on her face.

"How was the pub?"

"It was nice," she responds carefully. "How was your game?"

"Don't ask!"

Ryan skulks over towards Evan and immediately distracts him from his eye lock with me.

"I actually beat him today Maggs and he isn't too happy to say the least," Evan awkwardly answers and takes a seat on the sofa opposite Ryan.

"Beat me? That's a bit of an exaggeration mate. I basically handed you the win!"

Ryan and Evan tease each other, laughing about their golf today and as Maggie scurries around the house tidying up as she goes I still haven't moved from the foyer. I feel like I am intruding on a routine that has evolved over the past few months.

"Penny, why don't you go and relax in the spare room and we can watch a movie together or something?" I hear Maggie say decisively, obviously due to my stand still state.

With the alcohol in my system my immediate reaction is to rebut and prove that I am fine.

"No I'm okay here."

I slowly stride towards the dining table until I am taking up a stool at the kitchen bench. My back turned to the boys on the sofa's behind me. I hear Ryan and Evan's distant conversation as they continue their mockery about their game today, when I feel Maggie's tentative tap on my shoulder.

"Psss."

Her blonde hair falls over my shoulder as her mouth presses to my ear. "Penny, we don't have to stay out here with them, we can go in the other room and talk?" she whispers delicately.

I shake my head irrationally. Drunkenly.

"I'm fine."

"Remember this? This was such a great film!"

Ryan's enthusiastic tone interrupts me and I automatically turn over my shoulder to look at him. He reaches for the television remote and raises the volume.

As he settles back onto the two-seater sofa opposite Evan, the images across the television are familiar.

"Aaaw I love this movie!"

Maggie scatters away from me taking up residence beside Ryan, snuggling against his side. I tentatively wander over to them and since there is only one spare seat in the living room, I cautiously sit next to Evan. He stills immediately in response. I don't make eye contact with him, but sit stiffly in the sofa and keep my eyes firmly fixed on the screen; trying to stubbornly prove that I am completely fine.

My good conscious frowns.

"Oh, Penny, did you want to swap seats?" I hear Maggie ask carefully.

I shake my head irrationally.

What am I doing?

Half an hour or so has passed and I am still rigidly sitting on the sofa next to Evan. To say the situation was awkward would have been the understatement of the century. My eyes dart to Ryan and Maggie cuddled up on their sofa, to the tense and fragile atmosphere between Evan and I on this side. My hands were fidgeting restlessly in my lap and my heart racing a million miles a minute. There needed to be some kind of ice breaker somehow in order to be able to breathe again. It was almost unbearable. I couldn't get up and walk out after I made such a determined display I was fine to be here. Maggie gave me an out and I chose this one.

Good one Penny!

I needed something, anything, so I could relax. I didn't know how long I could keep this up.

"......your name is Goolia? So her name will be Julia Goolia..."

I immediately crack up laughing. Both from the familiar line in the movie, the awkwardness and probably alcohol in my system. I note the others stare at me questionably, before all joining in with their own chuckling. All of us in the living room giggle at the scene on screen - I, a little too much just to relieve the tension in the air. I'm successful. I settle back comfortably on the lounge pulling my feet up underneath me and feeling a little more at ease, I try to enjoy the rest of the film.

"I love that movie!" Maggie cries as the credits begin rolling on the television. "It's such a feel good film."

I can't help but nod my head agreeing with her as she was right, it was a feel good, happy film. However, it was also one of the first movie's I remember watching with Evan. I find myself automatically glancing over at him peripherally, as my thoughts reminisce over some better times between us. Times that were but a distant memory. He must have noticed me spying him as he smiles sweetly, revealing those gorgeous dimples beneath his stubbly cheeks.

"Remember that?" he asks softly.

I nod, blushing slightly.

"Remember what?" I hear Maggie ask him from the other sofa.

"Oh, just a joke Pen and I used to laugh about when we saw that movie," he blushes towards me uncomfortably.

"What joke?" Maggie urges as she turns her eyes toward me. "Penny?"

My heart stops its regular beat momentarily as I gulp nervously.

"Umm... just an in-joke we had...." I mumble before turning my focus to Evan beside me.

He grins.

"Penny Quarters," I beam.

Evan's eyes lift enormously and his beautiful crooked smile takes up his entire face. He looks elated. I wasn't sure if it was real or not, more than likely the alcohol I had consumed, but he looked gorgeous. In that second all of those feelings I had for him and the reasons why I loved him so, flood me intensely.

Why?

Why did I have to leave him?

Well, I know why.

But why?

"Alright, well I don't get it," Maggie replies shaking her head.

As Evan's laughter subsides, Ryan stands reaching for Maggie's hand and pulls her up from the sofa.

"Get me some dinner wench," he chuckles as he swats her cheekily on the bum.

"Aaaw so sweet you are," she replies, batting her eyelashes in an over-the-top manner. I can't help but get lost in their playfulness. The easiness at which they are with each other, so in love and obviously happy. I return my focus to Evan who I am surprised hasn't wavered his gaze from me.

"Mate, are you staying for something to eat?" I hear Ryan call to him.

Evan eyes me immediately for my reaction and I don't budge at all. I turn my focus awkwardly toward the ceiling before being pulled back toward his. He takes a careful breath.

"It depends. Are you sure it's alright?" he replies to Ryan, but his eyes are asking me for permission – not Ryan.

Will this be alright?

Can I deal with this?

I honestly thought my answer should be no. After everything I had felt for him these past few months the last thing I should be wanting to do is to spend time with him. After staring at him for a few more moments I can feel the response building inside of me.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave.

I allow my lips to turn up at the corners, nodding toward him.

Damn it!

He immediately smiles with a sigh of relief.

"Yes please mate. I would love to."

"That was great Maggs," Evan states as he leans back in his seat as I watch carefully. His polo shirt rises up at the waist, revealing his tanned six pack and the light trail of brown hairs that disappear beneath his belt. I feel my heart quicken at the sight of his toned body, remembering the way he felt beneath my hands, before his palm comes into view as he rests it on his stomach. I swallow heavily and pull my eyes away from his body and toward his face.

"I think I ate way too much though," he smiles.

Oh my.

The way his warm-hearted grin makes me feel is an abundance of emotions. Seated opposite him at the dining table barely sipping on some green tea that Maggie had made me - I felt like I was at a safer distance from him. It was like observing my favourite animal at the zoo, I was behind the fence and couldn't be harmed.

"Yes she is definitely a keeper this one, she can make a good home cooked meal that's for sure," Ryan exclaims positively while standing with his dirty dishes in hand making his way to the sink. She smiles sheepishly and follows his lead. I begin picturing their wedding which was planned for early next year at the end of our Summer. I smiled genuinely at the thought of their ceremony and how stunning a bride Maggs would make. I hear Evan sigh heavily.

"Been a while since I've had one those," he sombrely mumbles and as I glance toward him we catch each other's stare. He was never one to cook. We used to tease that the only thing he could make successfully was toast and even that wasn't always perfect! So many recollections inundate me as I absorb his warm watch. It's probably the only gaze in the world that makes me feel at home. I smile.

"What was that Evan?" Maggie asks as she rattles the empty plates in the sink.

"Ah nothing," he replies quickly and stands immediately taking his dishes with him into the kitchen. "Thanks so much for dinner Maggs, but I better be going as I have an early start tomorrow."

I felt a simultaneous sigh of relief and sadness.

"You are more than welcome," she chirps. "Oh that reminds me Ry, are you able to take Penny into Sydney tomorrow morning?"

I fidget nervously as I am reminded that my impending visit to Rosie's isn't that far away.

"Ah, I can't sweetie, I have a site meeting first thing."

"Really? She just needs to get some things from her place, you know..." she trails off as her and Ryan eye each other very obviously, making me feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Well I guess I could try to reschedule or...."

"No it's fine," I interject immediately, as I didn't want to further discuss this situation with such an audience. I didn't know how much more I could take. I make my way to my feet and take my empty plates to the sink where everyone else is congregating. I purposely keep my eyes focused to the floor, as I didn't want to risk making eye contact with anyone. Especially _him_ with such discussion going on. "I will just take the train," I add.

"You are not taking the train. It will take forever." Maggie complains before adding, "I can't take you the next day after as I have an appointment early morning here, but maybe after that? Ryan, will that work?"

I shake my head. This conversation was beginning to go on and on, I just wanted it to stop. Besides, I didn't want to wait another few days before facing this. I wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible and not have it hang over my head. I vaguely hear Maggie and Ryan discuss their schedules for the week, going back and forth when I hear Evan edge a throaty cough.

"Well... I could take you?"

The hoarse tone that speaks directly to my heart as it had done for so many years cascades from over my shoulder. Despite not wanting to make any eye contact I find myself automatically turning around to face him. I can't help it. As our eyes connect it's just him and I; and the enormity of guilt, solemnity and love surrounding us.

"I can't ask you to do that," I whisper back holding back soft sobs.

He stares at me for another moment, his eyes glassier each second that ticks by. The suspended silence in the air is so tense it could shatter at any moment.

"You aren't asking, I'm offering," he starts. "I can take you."

I continue to stare at him knowing I shouldn't but I couldn't help it. I can feel Ryan and Maggie's presence again beside us staring back at us not wanting to interrupt – yet not wanting to make a move. It's almost as if they are holding their breaths awaiting my response. Before I can further rationalise the situation, or delve further into reasons why I should or should not go with him, the reply automatically starts to drip from my mouth as I feel lost in his secure gaze.

"Thanks."

The quiver in my voice is obvious but it's enough to end this awkward conversation. Before I can begin to take back my words, like an out of body experience I see Ryan, Maggie and my beloved all make their way to the front door. As they hug, shake each other's hands and speak their goodbyes, Evans eyes find my stunned ones once more.

"See you in the morning."

Huh?

Before I could muster up more words to reply, he was gone.

# Chapter Twenty Three

Approaching the familiar deep green hedges along the footpath, I gulp before turning my eyes to the elegant white rendered walls to Rosie's terrace. The front facade is a bitter sweet sight. The beauty of the home so neatly presented on this street holds an abundance of emotions. Only a night or two ago I had left here in a deep blackened hole, near impossible to climb out of alive and in one piece. Such a stark contrast to how it appears before me right now.

"Are you sure you are ready to do this?" Evans anxious tone cuts off my thoughts as I turn my head towards him. I force a smile.

"I can handle it."

Can I?

He reaches his hand over toward mine, gently covering my face down palm on the passenger seat to his BMW. My eyes move slowly toward his touch. His hand was so warm, so gentle, so familiar. It felt comforting, which is the obvious result of a lifetime of love we had shared. The drive had not been as awkward as what I initially thought it would be. We had managed to spend most of it chatting about random unimportant things and when we had run out of conversation the music was put up too loud. I couldn't explain it, except it was easy with Evan. So many years of really knowing each other and spending so much time with one another, just made everything contented. We knew each other's little facial expressions, remarks, all of it; which made it effortless. Building something new even close to what we had would be difficult, maybe even impossible. I take a brief inhale letting the feeling completely fill me for a split second, almost to let it give me strength or something before I see his mouth open.

"I would do anything Penny. Anything, to have this again."

His sincere words are so brutally honest and heartfelt, that I can't help but turn my gaze to his. To see his broody brown eyes glisten with an almost tear was unbearable to witness, but I could feel the former anger and hatred I had felt for Evan over these past months start to dissipate. I press another smile, slowly wriggling my palm out from underneath his grasp.

"Evan, I can't discuss this now."

"I know, I know. It's just I wanted, I needed you to hear that. To really know that. That's all," he shrugs shyly.

Staring at him in this moment, it honestly feels like I had never left him. Bizarre considering the events passed, but true despite the fact. Could I really give this another shot with him? After everything could I let myself fall back in love with him?

Could I?

"I know," is all I could manage to respond, despite so many more words filling my thoughts.

"If there was any way you could ever... you know. I would spend my life making this whole mess up to you Penny. You deserve the world. I love you so much." Tears trickled ever so subtly down his cheeks and I could tell that this time together meant the world to him. He was giving this moment everything he had. After months of separation and probably thinking this opportunity would never surface. Who would have thought shifting the blame to someone else I cared about would assist me in moving closer to forgiving him.

Could I really forgive him?

I think I could. But forgiving a person for such a mistake and going back down the same road are two completely separate issues and I couldn't delve into that right now. I had to do, what I had came here to do.

"I know Evan. I know."

I take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder towards Rosie's front door and fumble my hands inside my bag for the key.

"I have to go, get this over with before I change my mind," I mumble to myself.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"And risk seeing you two together? Are you kidding me?" I quip back harshly, a routine that hasn't quite shifted its ways just yet. Immediately I see his hurt look from my cutting words. "Sorry," I add, not really meaning it.

"It's okay, can't say I don't blame you for that."

Feeling a little bad for my outburst and I only mean slightly, as he was right – he did deserve it; I lean toward him and peck him ever so lightly on his cheek. Allowing the hairs from his stubbly cheeks to tickle my soft lips the way they used to. As I lean back in my chair, I notice the astonishment in his eyes at my impulsion.

"Thank you for the ride," I whisper, and as I take a deep breath I turn away from him and open the car door; stepping onto the kerb and closing it behind me in one fluid movement. I stare at the facade of the house and prepare for my inevitable confrontation with _her_.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come back and get you?" Evan calls through the passenger window.

"I'm fine, I will call a taxi to take me to a hotel," I reply over my shoulder before adding, "Thanks."

He looks torn, but having come so far today he didn't push further. He simply smiles before taking off down the street. I stood motionless watching his white vehicle beam off into the sunset until it was completely out of sight.

It's time Penny.

Blowing out my enormous breath I head down the cement pathway towards the door. The prominent red paint appears larger and larger, as I get each stride closer. I could feel my heart rate rise with each and every step. Imagining the entire conversation with Rosie, what I could say and how she would respond was all playing out in my head like a television sitcom. The scenes, rolling over and over in my mind were making me even more nervous and jittery. Finally reaching my destination I raise my unsteady hand.

Knocking three times on the door, I anxiously wait for a response.

No answer.

I try again, rapping on the timber a little firmer this time. Waiting.

Still, no answer.

Using the key I had gotten out of my purse earlier, I unlock the front door and carefully swing it open.

"Hello? R-Rosie?" I stutter, calling from the entrance, still outside on the porch. Glancing my eyes from side to side there doesn't appear to be any sign of her. The house is deathly silent.

As quietly as I could, I step into the familiar home and carefully close the door behind me. I continue darting my sight around imagining I would see her sombre face peek out from either side of me. But still nothing. I exhale loudly as though I had been holding my breath that perhaps she wasn't home. A fact I was hoping since it was a work day and all, but still, I wasn't sure if she would have been up to going to work after our fallout the other night.

Hmph. Obviously it didn't hurt her as much as I thought _,_ my evil conscious snaps.

I head straight up the stairs towards my former bedroom and as delicately as possible, click open the door. Standing in the opening of my former cave this room holds so many terrible memories. Painful ones. The space darkened by the blinds as they are closed tight, the doona perfectly made and no stray clothing on the floor. It brings back recollections of how _she_ used to come in and make the bed, tidy the mess on the floor as if she was my mother. Images of all those days, the conversations, how bad I felt for everything I had put her through, was manically replaying over and over. Sniffing hoarsely and wiping my eyes roughly, I needed to pull it together just long enough to be able to do this. I scan hastily over the room and spy my snake skin suitcase atop of the wardrobe and without another second I jog over to it. Standing on my tiptoes I reach for the case and yank it down, letting it slam to my feet. I carelessly open one drawer at a time and frantically grab a handful of clothing and toss them in the case. As soon as I had finished with the drawers, I speedily wander to the ensuite and switch on the lights. Not wanting to reminisce further about my previous experiences here, I make a beeline for the vanity and rake a handful of my makeup, dental hygiene, and other random things. Squishing the contents against my body as the pile overflows my hands. Juggling the items I carefully head out of the bathroom and let them fall out of my grasp into the case without care. I finish with a few wardrobe pieces until my bag is almost overflowing before zipping it up recklessly and heading for my exit. I turn back to take one last look at the room and before I get too emotional, I close the door behind me.

After making my way downstairs awkwardly, I stand the heavy case beside the front door before having an attack of the guilt's. I decide to go into the kitchen and leave her a note so she would know I took my things. Call me stupid, I know I was angry and didn't want to see her, but it was the right thing to do. After all, I didn't want her to think she had been robbed or something. This whole situation was terrible enough without being accused of being a thief as well. As I turn on the kitchen light I roll my eyes. It's as annoyingly and immaculately clean as always. The small glass table under the lampshade where the monumental discovery had occurred, looked the same way it did the other night. As I take in my surroundings I am halted by a single rectangular piece of paper on the bench top. It curiously stood out since the kitchen was incredibly tidy and besides, any loose items were always tossed on the paper mache table never the granite counter top. I take slow motion strides towards it, scared as to what else I may discover here. One by one and ever so subtly, I reach the bench and stare at the paper. It appears it's a photo of some kind face down and sprawled in handwriting on the backside of it are the words 'Penelope'. Intrigued, I reach for the photo and with my fingers trembling I take a nervous breath. I turn it over.

Immediately, my eyes well with tears. Looking at the two people in the photograph they look like strangers, but together, they look like a couple. A tragic smile hits my lips as I notice the over-the-top hats in the image. He was right, the navy cowboy hat did bring out my eyes as the vibrant blue strikes straight through the lens. And him. The obvious attractiveness beams through despite wearing the traditional Aussie swag which was definitely not him, but still, he pulled it off. His eyes didn't need a complementing colour to bring them out, as they lightening through me as if they were here staring at me right now. The same chill runs up and down my spine, as the air around me becomes thicker somehow. It's the photo I remember Jay taking of us on our first day in Sydney together.

How did it get here?

What was it doing here?

Did Jay drop this off here?

Has he been here?

Why.....

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Screaming in agony I clutch toward my stomach as the pain has hit me hard from my lower back into my belly.

Oh. My. God!

I can't breathe.

I turn my blurred eyes downward toward my gut and all I see is dark blood stains on my clothing where the source of the pain punishes me harshly. My now bloody hands are quaking repetitively and I notice the blood stained photo float in slow motion toward the floor. I'm in a panic. Hyperventilating as the pain strikes harder. I clutch again at my abdomen.

What?

OUCH!

As I look up toward the bench everything has altered. Indistinct and muddled. I don't feel like I'm in the same place. The excruciating pulse is all I can make out. I think I turn quickly letting everything go into a further blur, but wait. Is that a girl? A woman? Just beside me I think is a figure.

Rosie?

"Rose. Help," I mime, as no sound appears to exit my mouth. Only screams of angst and intense agony. I glance down again to my stomach and am inundated by more blackened liquid gushing through my shirt. Over my hands. Onto the floor. I'm giddy.

I think I hear a faint knock on the door, heard just above the torturous screaming in my head.

As I look up again the figure is gone.

Rosie?

Hearing the knock again, a little clearer this time, I stumble. I stagger. As best as I can towards what I feel like is the door. This new place I am surrounded with is unfamiliar.

The pain has now altered to numbness. Suddenly I can't feel anything. See anything clearly. I'm cold. I think I am in shock. I think I fumble my bloodied hand towards the door knob and try to manipulate my fingers so they open it. I'm unsure, but I see a familiar face before me.

"Help me..." I whisper.

Feeling like my wound had been cut over and over, and over again - finally it has found its peace. My hazy surroundings are finally suffocated by blackness.

'Relief exists.

I find it when...

I am Cut.'

# Epilogue

### Jay

"Tonight is going to be one crazy night man!"

Really?

The nights all seem to blur into one these days. Night after night, party after party, they all seemed the same. As we ease our way to the front of the line, I carefully scan the queue of people through my dark aviators.

"Oh my God! Can I have a photo? Oh I love you!"

An attractive, crimson haired woman comes into focus and eyes me seductively. I nod politely allowing her to take her photo with me. I feel her hand boldly grasp me on my ass and as I slowly meet her gaze, her intention is obvious. Another one that could be screwed tonight, so willingly and easily.

Does she even know me?

Know who I really am?

Of course not! But that didn't matter to them. They all just wanted their piece and I had usually been so eager to give it to them. But something felt different tonight. Somehow. I was over it. All of it.

"Come on Jay!"

I follow my entourage through the front door and into the main corridor. The noise was deafening, but I liked it that way. It drowned out my thoughts and made me feel numb. I welcomed it. Within almost a millisecond several blondes make their way toward us past my security dressed in barely anything at all. I roll my eyes. More than likely courtesy of Amy, to ensure there were photos leaked to the media. It was all a part of the game. The image. They were the kind of company we usually liked at these things as it kept everyone happy. Our reputation of living the rock star life kept Management satisfied especially after all the work they did before to keep all the mess from spilling into the papers. It also ensured the safety of anyone close to me, not that _that_ was an issue anymore. The boys all had their fun for the night, and me? Well I guess I had my fun too. However, the 'fun' wasn't being felt lately. The kind of 'fun' I had given up years ago because I had to, was peeking its head up most recently. It was making it known that I actually missed it. This other lifestyle wasn't doing it for me anymore, it wasn't really a life – just an existence.

"Do you have another friend? I think our man may want company!" I look over and see Chris, our drummer, ask one of the whores. She smiles at me seedily through her bright red pout instantly making me imagine where she would want that lipstick to end up. I roll my eyes.

"Not really my type tonight," I harshly respond looking straight through her, making her shy away insulted. I tap him on the shoulder ignoring her.

"I am going to grab drinks wait here."

I tried not to drink that much anymore. A fucked up story about a man I thought was my father and his abuse when he was loaded. For years I never touched the stuff for fear I would turn out like him; before I discovered he actually wasn't my real dad after mom finally told me the truth. It still haunted me though, seeing what the stuff could do to a person, so I never drank when I was with people I really cared about in case the shit ever changed me and I hurt someone. But to get through this existence sometimes I needed it. It was the only way I could manage through it without this existence killing me. This life, if you could call it that, felt like it was a knife being sadistically twisted with each and every day I had to endure it. I knew by the end it would undoubtedly be victorious. Tonight had only begun and like so many previously, I was already desperate for it to end. If I didn't have actual work to do tonight, I would already be out the door. Writing songs and playing on my guitar was the only thing I had left that made me feel remotely good.

How long could I keep this up for?

How long would it be until I actually melted into non-existence?

What I had before, I craved it. I knew it wasn't possible again after everything that had happened, but deep down, I hoped things would be different. I wondered what she was doing and where she was. I had heard that she was happily married to an athlete of all things, but at least she was happy and was able to move on. At least she could have a normal life. After everything, I felt comfort in knowing that she found someone she loved, but equally wretched that it would never happen to me.

Would I ever be in a place that I could have that as well?

I doubted it. As long as I am doing this, it wasn't possible. That much had been proven time and time again. It was too dangerous.

As I wander over towards the bar I see rows of people waiting already. I remove my glasses for the fact that I would have to use the 'don't you know who I am' ploy to score some drinks faster and place them in my top pocket of my denim jacket.

"Please, just one drink?"

There is a man up ahead of me seedily coming onto this woman. As I eye him over while I wait, he looks like he is desperate. The type of guy that would do anything to get laid and I mean anything. The things I would notice as I people watched on nights like these. I never wanted to be at these things so to pass the time between my sets, it's all I ever did; and believe me when I say I saw some crazy fucked up shit that I wish I had never seen.

"Look there are still two people in front of us, please I insist to let me buy you a drink."

Loser.

The things men had to go through to get laid.

"No th-thank you."

I hold my breath. The woman's voice is laced with panic her reply sounding terrified. It wasn't usually the response you hear at clubs when this happens and as a result I can't help but to continue to overhear.

"Just one drink for the pretty lady."

He should show some fucking respect and find a girl that doesn't have to be forced.

"Thank you. I really appreciate the offer, but I have to politely decline."

The girls voice was sweet, innocent even. I am unsure why but she sounded desperate like she was begging silently for someone to help her. I'm not sure why I responded to it, but before I can stop myself I slide toward them until I am standing just behind her. I take a deep breath and inhale the scent of her beautiful ash blonde hair. A strange urge considering I didn't know her, but my body was robotically obeying some strange order that hadn't reached my head.

"There you are!" I intervene in assistance before I even know the words have escaped my mouth.

What the fuck am I doing?

I like to be invisible. Now she would see me.

As the woman turns to look at me I am shocked. Her piercing blue eyes staring straight at me send a bolt to my core. Her eyes are so open, painfully open. She looks so delicately fragile, that I almost don't want to shout in case I break her. However, through all of it she is exquisite. Her fair skin glowing beneath her long locks and striking gaze magnetically pulls me in, unlike ever before. Allowing my brain to catch up for a moment, I glance forcefully toward the asshole who was trying to get between her legs; ensuring he got the picture to leave her the fuck alone. I know I was one not to talk about one night stands, but my lays were always willing participants. Almost _too_ willing. I shudder at the way they used me for who I am.

"Sorry miss I didn't realise you were here with someone."

I smirk smugly.

He got the fucking picture.

I feel the air rapidly thicken as he scatters away leaving this angel in my presence, and in slow motion I turn my focus on her. I wait momentarily for her expression to alter as it did with most of the woman once they recognised me. The next look they gave me was definitely one with intent. But as I wait patiently for the next phase to occur – it doesn't. Her gaze doesn't waver the way I expected. She still looks confused.

As I stare back into her eyes I am concerned that her gaze alone could unman me. Would decipher anything going on in my brain, she just had that honest depth to her soul.

Who is she?

\--------------------------------------------------

The same angel from that very first night lay before me. But the eyes I am looking into right now are cold, closed and lifeless. There is no sign of her innocence that captured my heart right away.

Was she alive?

I couldn't bear to think that this was all happening again. I mean, I thought I had been much more careful this time. I fucking know I had! But the bloodied photo the officers found on her kitchen floor was proof that somehow, it was happening all over again. As I raise my hand delicately to her wrist, which is face up on the bed I gently stroke her soft pale skin letting the emotions fill me entirely. I know I should leave, I had to before everything got more out of control. But how could I now? I wasn't sure she would be safe. This time was different somehow. The connection is far too strong for me to walk away. As I remove my hand from her skin I place both of my hands prayer like, leaning my elbows on the bedside in front of me. As I feel the wetness of a tear slightly drip from the corner of my eye I seal them tightly.

Please God. Please let her be alright.....
This story is to be continued in the exciting follow up... 'Battlescars'.

Continue for a sneak peak.

#  Battlescars

"I hope the wound heals but it never does  
That's cause you're at war with love  
You're at war with love....

These battle scars don't look like they're fading  
Don't look like they're ever going away  
They ain't ever going to change  
These battle scars..."

'Battlescars' – Song and lyrics by Guy Sebastian and Lupe Fiasco

# Prologue

### Evan

As we near the destination of our not-long-enough drive, I can't help but feel disappointed that I couldn't muster the courage to initiate more conversation. Most of the trip has been filled with useless questions about the music blasting through the radio and other unimportant crap. I noticed her turning the volume up every few songs, I think, so I didn't discuss anything too difficult with her. I mean I realise this is awkward. Fuck, awkward is probably the understatement of the century! But after the past few times we have seen each other we have taken some small steps forward. Any movement, ever so slight in the right direction sounds great to me. I know I don't really deserve it and I hate myself for it; but I know in my heart, if she would just give me the chance to make it all up to her I could prove that I was just stupid and would never do anything to hurt her or us again. I peek towards her cautiously out of the very corner of my eye, still keeping my head facing the road in front. Having her sit so close to me without being able to reach out and hold her just fucking kills me. The past few months have been hell, and there isn't a day that goes by I don't regret what I did. Although, it has made me realise that there is no one in the world I want to be with other than her and I don't care what I have to do or how long it takes - I need to get her back!

As I take the final turn into the street and notice those olive green hedges lining the sidewalk, I gulp heavily as I approach the terrace where my world came crashing down. The residence before me holds nothing but ill feelings and I anxiously take a deep breath.

"Are you sure you are ready to do this?" I nervously ask. As she turns to look at me, her beauty in point blank range strikes me hard in the chest.

"I can handle it," she replies confidently. I know all too well how worried she is, a lifetime of knowing someone gives you the inside to those emotions. She was always so strong on the outside, usually for the both of us, but this was my chance to try and be the strong one for her. I owed this to her and to us if we were to have any future together.

I reach my hand over toward hers covering it as it lays face down on the passenger seat. I gaze down at my tanned palm gently encasing her fair hand, smiling at the contrast between our colours and squeeze ever so slightly. Skin to skin contact with her again after months of absence is taking every inch of strength I have not to pull her to me in a crushing embrace. I would never let her go.

"I would do anything Penny. Anything, to have this again," I breathe sincerely. I worry I have said a little too much as she slowly wriggles her palm from under my grasp and smiles at me forcefully. She looks painfully torn and I think my heart just rips a little more for the hurt I have caused her.

"Evan, I can't discuss this right now," she responds as she looks out the window toward the house.

"I know, I know. It's just I wanted, I needed you to hear that. To know that."

She turns her gaze back toward me and looks at me with those mesmerising blue eyes with the familiarity and comfort rushing back to me in that very moment. Knowing no one else on this planet would even come close to her for me, ever, and why I've refused to go out and even contemplate dating.

Why would I?

When my heart and soul has already tasted such perfection.

"I know," she whispers delicately.

Oh God...

I take another breath realising its now or never. I have wasted the drive already without telling her how I feel, but I may not get another opportunity like this. I have to say... something.

"If there was any way you could ever... you know. I would spend my life making this whole mess up to you Penny," I inhale deeply. "You deserve the world, I love you so much." I sniff slightly as I realise a tear has subtly escaped from my eye and down my cheek. I fucking love this girl! I just need her to forgive me. Somehow. I can't live in this world without her. I can't.

"I know Evan. I know."

She unlocks our intensity by eyeing over her surroundings outside once more, taking a breath to muster the courage to do what she came here for.

"I have to go, get this over with before I change my mind," I hear her mumble.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" I urge again, probably trying to string out what little time I had left with her.

"And risk seeing you two together? Are you kidding me?"

Ouch.

I flinch at her forwardness, but I fucking deserve it.

"Sorry," she adds.

She's sorry?

That kills me.

"It's okay, I can't say I don't blame you for that."

I realise that this was it. Even though it was small, at least I said what I wanted to. I hope it was just enough that maybe there'd be a chance we could talk again and try to move some more steps forward. Not knowing if I will even see her again pains me to say the least, but after everything, I have been given way more than I deserve and I need to be appreciative of that. My thoughts are instantly halted as I see her face lean quickly towards me. My automatic reaction would be to meet her lips with mine, and enjoy the taste of her mouth as we kiss passionately - the way we always did. Just the very thought of it sends my pulse raising. But as I hold my breath at her closeness, she tilts slightly and allows her cool lips to sting my cheek tenderly; before pulling away immediately. I let my breath out and blink my eyes rapidly, using every bit of strength I have not to pull her towards me and crush her to my chest.

"Thank you for the ride," she says as she steps out of the vehicle and closes the door behind her. I buzz down the passenger window and take one last desperate glance toward her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come back and get you?"

"I'm fine, I will call a taxi to take me to a hotel, thanks."

I don't want to leave her here, but I know I have to go. There was nothing more I could right now other than leave her to sort this shit out. I sigh sorrowfully and head off down the street. Watching her fade away from me in the revision mirror until she is no longer in sight.

"Fuck!"

I bash my fists on the steering wheel and run one of my hands through my sweaty hair. I can't just leave her there with Rosie. I know how strong Penny is, but I can't leave her there to face more turmoil on her own.

"Fuck!"

I also realise I can't be in the same room as Rosie _and_ Penny, as that would tear her even further apart. It's a no win situation. I abruptly yank on the steering wheel and turn around toward the terrace once more. Torturing myself on whether I should go back and wait for her, or whether I should just leave like she asked me to. Even as I see the white rendered walls to the terrace up ahead, whether or not I would actually stop; I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do.

To be released early 2016
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