They met again two weeks later. He had spent every waking moment thinking about that kiss they had shared. Every sleeping moment was filled with dreams of her laughing, singing, filling his head with images of her hair, her eyes, and that smile of hers. He hadn't realised how obsessed he had become until the people around him noticed how distracted he was.

He was rather nervous about seeing her because he had no idea what to expect. They hadn't talked about the kiss or the ensuing phone conversation during the recording sessions they'd had, but then again they hadn't had the chance with all the sound engineers around. Tonight was the first chance they might have to be alone but he felt sure she would just want to put it all behind them. He wasn't sure what he wanted but he decided to act like he wanted the same as her. There was no point in causing her unnecessary grief.

So there he was at this party where there was a chance she might appear. He'd been there an hour and hadn't seen her. He was getting antsy and people were staying away from him because he was being so irritable. Then he caught a glimpse of her dark curly hair across the room. He hoped she would look over at him so he could nonchalantly nod his acceptance of her presence. She didn't look up though. Instead she turned away and walked into the next room.

Quickly, he dashed around so he could enter the room she was now in through another door. He stopped to catch his breath so he could saunter in casually and "accidentally" bump into her. There she was, standing serenely next to the buffet. He tapped her shoulder and prepared his best winning smile.

His jaw dopped as the woman turned. It wasn't her! How could he have been so foolish? "Hello?" the woman seemed genuinely concerned by his immobility. He wandered off without even apologising. His reaction to what he thought was her presence was more unsettling than the fact that it had turned out to not be her. He grabbed a beer and went outside to think about it.

Two hours later, he was no nearer a conclusion. All he knew was that he had to keep his cool when she showed up, if she showed up at all. "There you are!" He jumped as her familiar voice startled him from his thoughts. He turned to see that cheeky grin of hers.

"Oh. Yea. Hi." He wasn't so eager to see her as he had been earlier.

"Is something the matter?" She must have sensed his reticence. He paused before thinking of the best way to respond.

"I've just been thinking about things. I don't know what's between us, if anything at all and I don't want to complicate things further. Maybe it's just best if we don't."

She looked at him searchingly for a moment. "Very well." she said stiffly as she marched back inside.

Yet again, he had that feeling that he'd broken something inside her. He told himself it was for the best but as the evening wore on, the image of her walking away was still prominent in his mind.

He went to sleep that night uneasy but certain that he had done what was right. The next day, more of his doubts disappeared and he was utterly convinced that everyone was better off this way. He thought of her that day, and the next. He realised he missed her, even though nothing had really happened between them but that was ok. The next week she was still on his mind, but not quite overpoweringly so.

A full three weeks after the party, he found that hours went by without him thinking of her once. He was sure he didn't need her and maybe he never had. He was at the opening of a new hospital. It was a big charity event of which he was keen to support. Everyone's eyes were on the chairman giving his thanks to all the people who made generous donations, so he wouldn't expect anyone to pay any attention to him.

That's why he was so surprised to find that as he scanned the crowd not only was she there but she was staring straight at him. He found himself once again appreciating the beauty of her dark eyes but did not feel any regret. His mind wandered to the progress he'd made over the last three weeks. Looking back on it, he was able to see that he had in fact been obsessed but now he felt he was over that. He could quite comfortably look at her without feeling any pangs. Just to prove it he did look, only she wasn't there. He looked about expecting to see her face in the crowd.

"Looking for me?" Her voice came from right behind him. She smiled up at him and said "I've thought about what you said and you're wrong. I know you feel something you can't control. You only tried to distance me to stop yourself from getting hurt."

He started to deny it, but faltered. "N-no. That's not true." He was more surprised at her openness than at the content of her speech. She smiled, more widely this time.

"Aha. I knew I got to you. I always will." Where did this confidence of hers come from, he wondered. She wasn't like the shy girl she'd been after he'd kissed her. Maybe that's because she's figured you out at last, said a voice from the back of his head. Where did that come from? He was starting to feel uneasy and confused.

She continued, "It's quite simple really. Your attraction rules you without you knowing it and I'll prove it." She stepped forward till she was inches away from him. He wouldn't step back. That would be admitting that she got to him. She tilted her head upwards and advanced so that their bodies were touching. Her lips were so close to his he could feel them yet they hadn't made contact. She separated her lips slightly and as she did so a small breath escaped onto his lips.

He shuddered as the lusty feelings swept through his body. This was too much. Her hair was so silky. Her eyes, her nose, everything about her was perfectly attractive. He did need her.

She saw the recognition of the truth in his eyes and knew that she had made her point. Her lids drooped as she leant into him and their kiss was sweet and hard. She pulled back too soon however. She raised her eyebrows suggestively, smiled coyly, then turned and walked away.

From the moment that he had first laid eyes on her, he'd wanted to protect her. She was at the same time beautiful and wily, and sweet and innocent. Her dark dark wavy hair complimented her smooth pale skin perfectly. She wore no make-up, yet her cheeks and lips were just the right shade of rosy. When she had suggested that they 'jam' together, he'd been in heaven. It was all he could ever dream of. A chance to make music with *her*. He was so unbelievably lucky.

It was happening now and he could barely concentrate. She, of course, had the perfect amount of concentration. She was self-aware to the point when she could tell what level of concentration would irritate him. She'd started on the guitar, showing him a few riffs she spontaneously pulled out of nowhere, to which he'd responded (also on the guitar) with a few alterations. What happened next had been amazing.

Her eyes had lit up in a way that was just too damn cute. She'd rushed to the piano and come up with something that had complimented what he'd been playing on the guitar. He hadn't even known that she could play the piano!

For the rest of the afternoon they had worked on the lyrics and harmonising. That's when he had done it. He'd been standing over the piano with her playing and both of them singing. They'd been improvising over the bridge section and they'd instinctively sang something which sounded so good to both their ears that they'd grinned at each other.

When she'd stopped playing that section, he'd been so compelled to kiss her that he had, in fact, kissed her. It had been wonderful. He had never known that a simple kiss could be so exciting. Even afterwards, the thought of her lips on his had aroused him ashamedly. He had slowly leaned in, feeling drawn by her charisma and their lips had met in one sweet electrifying moment.

As soon as he had realised what he'd done he felt as if he had made her dirty just by touching her, so he apologised. She suddenly looked a bit downcast, and the rest of the jam session was frightfully dull. He was sure he had upset her. She wasn't rude towards him, and the music was still sweet and perfect for them but something was missing. Earlier, he had felt as if they had connected really well but now she had withdrawn from him because of his impatience. Now he would never know the feeling of her lips on his ever again. The thought was almost unbearable.

He was just about to pour himself a very stiff drink, a few hours after she had left. He wanted to drown his sorrow and his shame, hoping to kill at least one of them, or maybe have them fight each other to the death. So he was just about to get the martini from the cupboard when the phone rang.

It was her. He couldn't immediately think of any reason she would have to call him. They'd finished the song and had made plans to record the next week. Any ideas could wait (unless she was extremely devoted to her music, which, he supposed, she was) but something made him believe that she wasn't calling about the music.

"I wanted to ask you something earlier but I didn't really know how. I suppose it's a bit sensitive."

She always spoke like that. Like she had carefully picked out every word to make sure it fit the circumstances. She also enounced everything just the right amount. He wondered what she could be talking about. She seemed hesitant about broaching the subject.

"It's about when we...earlier...when we kissed." She said the last word, as if she dreaded the impact it might have on him. It was more the word before that had grabbed him. He had considered it as him kissing her, but he suppose she had responded in kind. Suddenly lost in the memory, he was rushed back to the present when she said "Hello?"

"Ahem. Yes. Sorry about that." He sounded so foolish and felt so clumsy talking to her, like when he was a schoolboy.

"You apologise a lot." she remarked. Was she referring to his earlier apoplogy? Was that what she had been concerned about? There was a brief silence as he mulled over the ways to ask her about this. He didn't need to. "Why did you apologise earlier?" she asked. Just one question from her was all it took for him to pour out his emotions. Ok, so he didn't tell her about the dirty fantasies, but she seemed so interested to hear how he felt. He did feel so much better once he'd told her. The way she responded to his claims was very therapeutic. Not quite romantic, and he did feel afterwards that the conversation had lacked some input from her.

When he had finished she said how glad she was they they had talked and she left him all alone with his thoughts. Maybe she was concerned about trusting him. She hadn't seemed repelled by his admissions so maybe she was waiting for the right moment to discuss her feelings. Or maybe she didn't have any and didn't know how to tell him. Maybe she was just thinking of a way to let him down gently. His paranoia suddenly grew to enormous heights. He should go to bed but still felt a bit electrified from talking to her on the phone. Maybe he'd have a drink. He suddenly didn't feel like it in case she suddenly rang him again to find him drunk. The idea put him off drinking completely. He decided to sit in front of the tv and promptly fell asleep.