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"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.

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.