“Can I make you some breakfast?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded. “Breakfast sounds great.”

The way we flowed together in the room was bizarre. I’ve never felt so at peace with a man before in my life. Though we had only known each other for a short time it felt like we had known each other all our lives. There was no stress or awkwardness between us. I think he felt it too.

“What’s on your schedule today?” I asked while buttering a piece of toast for him. His life seemed to be segmented by one appointment after another and I highly doubted that he had much free time left today.

“I have to be back on set at ten.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.

I gave him a brief smile. I didn’t want him to think that his schedule would upset me.

We discussed how to transfer him from my apartment to the set, as it wasn’t simple or easy to get him from one place to another secretly. The plan was that I would drive him halfway to someplace obscure where he could transfer to a waiting car that would drive him to the set. His safety and my anonymity were the top priorities.

Since our time was limited, we hung out in my living room.

I saw his face brighten when he picked up my acoustic guitar that was propped up on a stand in the corner. He placed the guitar on his knee and gave it a quick strum. He surprised me by playing pretty well.

“I saw this on Monday when I was here but I didn’t get a chance to ask you. Do you play or is this just a decoration?” he wondered, looking at me over his shoulder.

“No, I play,” I answered confidently, although I was far from a master at it. “I know a few songs. Sometimes I try to write my own music when the mood hits, but I’m not that good of a songwriter,” I admitted.

He handed the guitar to me and gave me an encouraging nod. “Play something for me.”

My heart rate picked up instantly as my nerves got the better of me. I felt the pang of horror hit as I imagined making a total fool out of myself.

“Okay, no laughing! Promise!”

“I’d never laugh at you.” He crossed his heart with his fingers. “I promise.”

“All right, let’s see if you can name this tune.” I played the first few notes.

“Easy! Pink Floyd,” he said with a smile. “Wish You Were Here.”

I laughed when he made up his own lyrics. “No, that’s not what he says!” I gave him a teasing tap in the foot. I started the song over. Soon we were both singing together. “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl…”

When I finished, he slipped the guitar out of my hand and waved his fingers for my guitar pick. He gave me a quick wink and a grin and played a few chords.

“This is something I wrote,” he said nonchalantly, adjusting the guitar on his leg. He started to play a beautiful melody. His song was intense; the lyrics resonated in my heart. While he sang his song to me I felt myself falling deeper and deeper for him.

I stared at him in awe as he let himself slip into his music. My mind wandered into forbidden territory as I entertained illicit thoughts of tearing the guitar from his hands and climbing onto him to kiss him passionately. How his strong hands could hold my hips in place on his lap. How his tongue might feel on mine. I felt myself becoming extremely aroused just by thinking about it.

“What did you think?” he asked when he finished his song. The truth was that I was tingling in places where I hadn’t tingled in a long time.

“It was… mesmerizing. I loved it!”

A wide grin broke on his face.

While he returned my guitar to its stand, I took off for the solace of my bathroom. I locked the door behind me and leaned hard on the counter.

I had to get a grip on my emotions. He was too unreal. It would be so easy to fall madly, insanely, deeply in love with this man, and every second I spent with him was dragging me towards that point of no return. My heart was racing, the blood throbbed in my veins, and I felt slightly dizzy.

Breathe Taryn. Don’t do this to yourself! Stop it! When he leaves Seaport, you’ll never hear from him again.

I fought the internal war that was battling in my mind – do I allow myself to be carried away - to surrender completely and allow whatever happens to happen or do I end it all now and avoid the devastating heartbreak that was likely and inevitable? I knew that I would be completely incapable of having a casual fling with him, so that option was out. Even though I could not resolve my dilemma now, I knew that sooner or later I’d have to make a choice.

When I returned to him, he was gathering his things together and it was time for us to go. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to grab his hand and drag him back to my bedroom. My desire for him was leading the war.