I push the doors to the balcony open and breathe deeply. These parties always overwhelm me but I try to take quick breaks so that Ian doesn't see how much I hate them.
I move away from the doors, past the outdoor sofas and lights to a quieter area behind some potted palm trees. Leaning on the rail, while overlooking the city, I take another deep breath. There is no denying it, the view here at night is beautiful with the city lights extending for miles. I take another deep breath loving my momentary escape.
Hearing a soft footfall, I resign myself that Ian followed and my momentary escape was over way too quickly. Turning expecting Ian, I am surprised and I jump slightly when I see a stranger.
"Oh! Sorry. Thought you were someone else," I apologize.
He moves a little closer and I immediately recognize him. He is the rock star guy from the concert. My heart beat picks up. I had met Justin Timberlake and Mick Jagger and nothing, but this guy....
He smiles at me while running his hand through his hair. I can’t help but watch his hand. He has great hair.
I pull myself from my trance to say, "Excuse me," and try to move around him. He steps in my way, surprising me.
I look up at him to speak, but his eyes are piercing mine, strangely pleading. I am captivated.
"No need to leave. We can both enjoy the air," he says with his British accent. I feel a warm intense feeling flow through me that settles in my groin.
Vaguely aware in my mind somewhere that I should really leave, I give him a small smile and move back to the railing. Despite not knowing him, I can tell he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe it's his smile.
I see him relax and move to the railing next to me with only a few feet between us. The air between us feels electric.
"Needed some breathing space?" he inquires softly.
"Yes. I find all the glitz a little overwhelming," I reply truthfully, then immediately wish I had not said that. This is his world, his life.
"Sorry!" I quickly apologize. "Sometimes I blurt things out without thinking. It's a great party but I needed fresh air." I feel like I am fumbling.
He grins, runs his hand through his hair again and says, "Ah, you see glitz, but I see a lot of fake people. Don't get me wrong, some of those people are great but others are here for the prestige. For me it once was exciting, but recently it feels more of an obligation."
I feel myself completely relax.
"My name is Harley," he says quietly but confidently.
"Kate," I respond.
We remain quiet for a few moments, avoiding eye contact. My skin feels quite tingly, never so alive, but yet I feel so at ease. I should go, but I stay not knowing why.
"We have kind of met before," Harley says.
"I remember," I say quietly.
"My security guard had quite the chuckle at your response when I asked him to speak to you."
Smiling, I reply, "Sorry but I have a boyfriend and I am not the kind of girl that meets guys backstage."
"Yes, I see that now," he murmurs, and I feel his head turn to me, his eyes running over my face.
Another few quiet moments pass.
"I should get back. Nice meeting you, Harley," and move to leave. Harley quickly moves closer, grasping my arm, watching my face as his hold lessens in intensity before sliding his hand down, slowly lacing his long fingers through mine. I am unprepared for the quick familiarity he has unabashedly and unapologetically taken. My pulse is racing and I fleetingly wonder why there is no fear. My arm is still tingling from his first touch, my hand electrified at the feel of his entwined with mine. I have never had anyone be as forward and confident as this man.
"I don't want you to go," he murmurs as his other hand reaches out to lightly tip my face up so that I am looking directly into his eyes.
My heart feels as if it trying to jump out of my chest. I look up at his face. He is so close. I look in his eyes and see a yearning, for what I am not exactly sure.
"I'm sorry but I have to get back," I say softly. I do not feel alarmed even though I should. There is something about him that makes me want to stay and I feel torn.
His eyes become saddened, but he still holds my hand as he pleads softly, "I just met you. Please stay."
"I can't. My boyfriend is probably wondering where I am. Sorry, but I have to go," I whisper, but my hand does not follow my brain and remains entangled with his. I really do not want to leave. My arm is tingling, my skin zinging from his touch, his hand searing mine.
Harley stares at me intensely, sighs and then slowly disentangles his fingers from mine and I feel bereft. Not trusting myself, I quickly turn and walk away.