He heard Mummy come into his bedroom this morning. And even though she interrupted the really

fun dream he was having with Her, he still didn't want to open his eyes. Because if he did open

eyes, he couldn't talk to Her as much as he could when he was asleep. But Mummy was good at

getting him to wake up, and she whispered in his ear a promise to make his favorite banana

pancakes for breakfast. He could already smell the bananas and cinnamon, and it didn't take long

for his azure eyes to shoot open and a toothy smile to appear on his youthful face. Today was

starting out to be a happy day.

When he sat up in bed and looked out of his bedroom window, he was even happier when he

realized it wasn't raining. Not that he minded the rain. You couldn't make adequate mud pies if the

earth wasn't moist enough. But he did prefer the sunshine. Since it was a sunny day, he hoped

Mummy would take him to the beach. Going to the beach meant building a massive sandcastle,

digging for seashells, and playing in the ocean of course.

It was definitely a happy day when he went to the loo because he didn't have to hold himself and

hop up and down in the hallway while he waited for his older brother to finish first. He had the loo

all to himself this morning.

While the boy was eating his favorite breakfast in the kitchen with his family, he asked his mother,

“Mummy, can we go to the beach today? Pleeease?”

He was elated when she agreed. “Sure, love,” and smoothed his light blond hair affectionately.

Once she turned around to walk back to the stove, and he made sure no one else at the table was

watching him, he whispered to Her, "We're going to the beach today."

'Yay! I like the beach!'

But then the day wasn't so happy when Grampy fell out of his chair at the kitchen table. Nanny and

Mummy both yelled in surprise and tried to wake him up but he wouldn't open his eyes. Daddy

rushed over too and blocked Grampy from his view. After that, there was a lot of confusion. He saw

Mummy on the phone; frantically telling someone on the other end that her father was unconscious

and to please send help. The boy sat motionless in his chair with his banana pancakes now cold and

sitting in a puddle of syrup. He was frightened, and he wished his older brother hadn't already left

for school so he could explain to him what was going on.

He could tell Mummy was frightened too, and she told him to go back to his room. As she gently

nudged her second-born son out of the kitchen, she tried to make her voice sound reassuring. “Don't

worry, love. Grampy is alright; he's just really tired and he fell asleep at the table.”

The boy's small feet only made it halfway to his bedroom before he walked back towards the

kitchen. But he didn't go in. He peeked around the corner and he saw the police and some other

men come into the house. Everyone was gathered around Grampy who was still lying unconscious

on the kitchen floor. He could hear Mummy and Nanny crying and it wasn't long until the men took

his grandfather away on a little bed with wheels. "I think Grampy is hurt. The bobbies just took him

away," he whispered to Her.

'Don't worry, Grampy will be alright.'

He was sitting in the hospital waiting room with his short legs dangling off the edge of the blue

plastic chair. He started swinging them back and forth as he watched many different people pass by

him. His eyes widened in curiosity when he saw a sleeping man being pushed in a wheel chair. He

continued to watch as the man was pushed down the hallway and the boy wondered what it would

be like to ride on one of those wheel chairs. As he looked around the waiting room he noticed a lady

wearing a pink shirt sitting across from him. She was reading a magazine and she was still wearing

her bedroom slippers. A man with black hair and a mustache was sitting two seats away from the

lady. He was watching the television but his knees wouldn't stop bouncing up and down.

He wanted to talk to Her again, but he couldn't because Daddy was sitting next to him. He never

spoke to Her when his family could hear him because they didn't understand that She was real. And

sometimes his older brother would tease him if he caught him talking to Her. Mummy said it was

alright for him to have an imaginary friend, but he knew the girl's voice that he heard in his head

wasn't imaginary.

He remembers when he heard her voice for the first time. He was just a wee baby. But he couldn't

form words…and neither could she…so they just exchanged gurgles and squeals. But when he got a

little older, he realized that there was someone he could hear but couldn't see. And soon…they

began speaking to each other.

The boy turned his head and looked past his father. He saw Nanny crying and wiping her nose with

a tissue. Daddy had his arm around her and was saying comforting words to try and make her feel

better. He looked up at his father's face and he turned his head and smiled wearily down at his son

as he ruffled his platinum hair.

Mummy went to the vending machine but when she returned, she had more than a cup of tea in her

hand. "Here darling, I got you some paper and crayons," she said quietly as she handed her son a

few items to keep him occupied. "Why don't you draw a nice picture for Grampy? I think he'd like

that." The boy took the paper and crayons from his mother while she gave him a warm smile. Her

nose was still red and her eyes were still watery. Poor Mummy. He didn't like to see her so upset.

Just as the boy put the blank sheet of paper on the unoccupied chair next to him, a doctor

approached his family. The doctor was speaking to them in a hushed voice but the boy could still

hear what he was saying. But just because he could hear him, didn't mean he understood. He had a

feeling it wasn't good news because no one looked happy. But he couldn't help but wonder if

Grampy was feeling better. The doctor walked away and Daddy and Nanny followed him into a

room.

He was about to hop off the chair and follow them, but Mummy spoke. “Stay here and draw your

picture for Grampy.” She knelt down in front of her four-year-old son and smiled. “I'll be right

back. I just want to see how he's doing. The doctor said he's awake now.”

The little boy's eyes, which were identical to his mother's, lit up instantly at this happy news

indeed. “I wanna see him too, Mummy!”

She sniffled and smoothed his hair in her own motherly way again. “I know, love. You can see him

in a little while. Just draw your picture, okay? Be a good boy.” He smiled back and nodded.

Mummy gave him a tight squeeze before she stood up and walked quickly towards the room he saw

Daddy and Nanny enter moments ago.

“I'm gonna draw Grampy the best picture ever,” he said to himself.

`Oooh! Draw me too,' she said excitedly.

“Okay.” He opened his box of crayons and set to work on his picture. He drew himself and his

family but when he was about to draw Her, he realized he had a problem. “What color is your hair?”

When she answered his question, he pulled out the crayon that best matched her hair. He wrote his

name on top of the drawing of himself and his family's names above each of their heads. Then he

realized he had another problem. “What's your name?”

`I can't tell you.'

The boy scrunched up his face in confusion and spoke louder than he intended. “Why not?!?”

`Because…he said I can't.'

“Who's he?”

`I don't know. Some man just whispered in my ear and told me not to tell you.'

The little boy sighed in frustration. “Fine, I'll just call you Rosie `cause your hair is the same color.”

She laughed in sheer delight. `I like Rosie.'

Someone sat next to him while he was engrossed in his artwork. He briefly looked up and he was

met by a pair of friendly brown eyes. The nurse's round face was framed with dark curls and the

boy thought that she smelled like dish soap. “Your mum asked me to keep an eye on you.” She gave

him a kind smile but the boy averted his eyes back to his drawing. He was much too busy to pay

attention to her.

With his masterpiece now finished, he got up from his chair to give Grampy his picture. He walked

slowly with it cradled against his chest. Another nurse smiled at him as she passed and told him he

was a `cute lad'. He stood in the doorway to Grampy's hospital room and saw him lying in bed with

Nanny and Mummy sitting on either side of him. Daddy was sitting in a chair next to the bed and he

was rubbing his hands together as if they were cold. But he didn't look cold; he still looked sad just

like Mummy and Nanny.

Then for some reason, his little feet wouldn't move any further. He couldn't walk into the room and

give Grampy his picture. The boy was about to call his grandfather's name and perhaps that would

alert him that he was there. But he didn't have to speak, because Grampy finally set his eyes on the

small child standing quietly in the doorway.

The old man gasped and his eyes widened in surprise. His reaction caused everyone in the room to

turn their attention towards the little boy. Grampy seemed like he wanted to say something but all

he could do was stare at his grandson in astonishment.

Now the boy was confused. Why was Grampy staring at him like this? Did he not recognize who he

was? The boy couldn't speak either; he was still frozen on the spot with his drawing pressed against

his shirt. Finally his grandfather spoke, but he still sounded amazed. “Oh Mary mother of Christ. I

can't believe what me eyes are seein'.”

“What is it, Dad?” Mummy asked urgently.

An expression of concern appeared on Nanny's face as she looked back and forth between her

grandson and her husband. “Charles, what's wrong?”

It was then that Grampy smiled at him. The boy smiled back and his feet moved a tiny bit. He took

a few more steps until he was close enough to see Grampy's eyes welling up with tears. But why

was he sad? Was he not happy to see him? “My beautiful boy,” he said in a trembling voice. “Thank

you.”

All of a sudden, the smile faded from Grampy's wrinkled face and he closed his eyes. There was a

loud beeping sound coming from something in the room. Mummy and Nanny began yelling again

and they were trying to wake him up. Daddy stood up swiftly from his chair and the little boy could

no longer see his grandfather's face. He jumped in surprise when the dark-haired nurse rushed into

the room and pushed him aside. She made him drop Grampy's picture and he watched it flutter

silently to the floor. The boy kept his eyes on his masterpiece as more feet trampled over his family

and their smiling faces. And Her…holding his hand while they stood on top of the green hill with

the yellow sun shining brightly above them.

“I'm scared, Rosie. I wish you were here with me,” he whispered. He could feel the tears pricking at

the back of his eyes and before he knew it, they began trickling down his cherub cheeks.

`Me too,' she whispered back. Now he couldn't be sure, but her voice sounded sad too. Today was

not a happy day.

It's in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped.' ~ Anthony Robbins

It was Thursday, September 28, 2006 when I received the phone call that would change my life

forever. I just got home from grocery shopping when my house phone rang. I didn't answer it on the

first ring because I needed to hurry and put the ice cream in the freezer. Its consistency had already

turned into that of a milkshake just from being in the sweltering trunk of my car. After I closed the

refrigerator, I picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bridget, it's Autumn." Autumn is my best friend. We met on a social networking site called

MySpace a couple months ago, and even though our personalities and lifestyles are as different as

night and day, it didn't take us long to form a genuine bond of friendship.

"Oh hey, what's up?"

"I tried calling your cell but you didn't pick up. Did you turn it off or something?"

"No, I didn't turn it off. I probably didn't hear it ring. Why, what's up?"

There as a pause. "Ummm...what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing really. Why?"

"Can you come over to my place? I'm having a little get-together. Just a few friends...you know,

nothing big."

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to!" I always enjoyed hanging out with Autumn. Whenever she has parties at

her house, she's always a wonderful hostess. One thing I loved about her was her ability to

entertain.

She paused again but this one was longer. "I want you to meet someone."

I had a slight feeling where this conversation was heading but I wanted to give Autumn the benefit

of the doubt. "Who?"

"A friend of mine."

"Would this friend just happen to be a guy?"

There was another pause on her end. "Yeah. So?" I knew it! We were heading down this road again.

In the past month, Autumn introduced me to about half a dozen guys. She claimed that my love life

lacked variety but I was convinced that she was totally clueless about what I looked for in a man.

I sighed. "You're not trying to hook me up with someone are you?"

"Okay, but this is---"

I had to interject for a moment because I guess she didn't remember the last few guys she

introduced me to. "Autumn, I told you I don't want to be hooked up."

"Why not?"

Now I had to refresh her memory. "Why not? Because the last guys you introduced me to were real

assholes." My brain quickly flashed back and the men Autumn introduced me to in the past went by

like a slide-show. I quickly began to remember each of their faces and each of their unflattering

qualities which put up red flags in Bridget's Book of Dating Do's And Don'ts.

"Hey, I'm sorry alright? But this is different. I really think I found your soul mate."

I couldn't help but to start laughing. My exhaustive search for Mr. Right has left me pessimistic

about finding someone special and my faith in finding my soul mate was diminishing like a candle

with the wick almost completely spent. I went into my living room to sit down because I had a

feeling this was going be one of those debating conversations I often had with Autumn. I would say

'to-MAY-to', and she would say 'to-MAH-to'. "My soul mate?!?" I just couldn't stop laughing

because the whole idea sounded ridiculous. Once I composed myself I asked, "Autumn, why do you

think he's my soul mate?"

"I just know he is, okay. Please trust me on this."

"See, now I don't want to come over. I don't feel like meeting another one of your friends."

"Bridge, you're really gonna like him."

"That's what you said about the others." I'll admit, Los Angeles is full of beautiful men but the

quality of them had left a sour taste in my mouth. I wasn't what one would call a bitter woman; I

was more of a realist.

"No, I really, really mean it. He's exactly your type Bridge...blond hair, blue eyes, tatts, absolutely

beautiful---"

"He's probably a player."

She paused again. "Well...kinda. But the girls always know what they're getting into. It's not like---"

Autumn's audacity to think that I should actually take her seriously was just too amusing so I started

laughing again. I couldn't believe that someone I considered a best friend would want to introduce

me to a 'man-whore'. I was so shocked that I had to say, "And you want me to hook up with him?

Are you crazy? Wait, are you drunk?"

"Bridge, listen to me okay. He has girls he messes with but we've been friends for awhile, and he's

told me on numerous occasions that he'd settle down with one girl if he could find the right girl.

He's not afraid of commitment or monogamy; it's just that he hasn't met anyone he wanted to give

his heart to. Please meet him. Did I mention that he's British?"

This time I had to pause because I have a 'thing' for Brits. I paused for awhile because I seriously

had to think about this. Would I be wasting my time again? Was he really beautiful like Autumn

described? Was I really going to entertain the idea that Mr. Right could exist? Was he really

my...soul mate? I concluded that there was only one way to find out. I sighed again. "Okay Autumn,

I'll meet him."

"Great!"

"But I swear...if he's a jerk...I'm never listening to you again!"

"Okay, deal."

"Alright, well I have to go and put my food away. What time should I come by tomorrow?"

"Um, like around eight o'clock."

"Alright, I'll be there."

I was about to hang up when I heard her yell, "Wait, Bridge!"

I sighed. "What?"

"Wear something really cute. And wear your hair down. You look so sexy when your hair is down."

"Fine," I gritted through my teeth. "Wait a sec, can you send me a picture of your friend? And

what's his name?" I would love to get a preview of this mystery guy since I just committed myself

to yet another 'hook-up'.

There was yet another pause on her end. What was up with her today? "His name is Tristan and I'd

rather you be surprised. I think you will be." She gave a very sly laugh, and before I could say

anything else, she quickly said, "Later girlie,” and hung up.

What did I just get myself into?

I started thinking: Tristan, huh? Well this Tristan better be something special. I swore I wouldn't let

Autumn introduce me to any more guys because she obviously didn't know what I liked. I hoped

this time would be worth it; worth getting all dolled up. I was going to kill her if Tristan wasn't what

she said he was. Then I started to regret what I just agreed to because I hated going back on my

word.

After I put the groceries away, I went into my bedroom closet to look for something to wear

tomorrow night. It's Los Angeles, California and it was unusually hot for this time of year so I chose

a white and pale pink cotton sundress that showed a little bit of cleavage. Then I pulled out a cute

pair of pearly pink strappy wedge sandals that had about a one-inch heel. As I was looking through

my jewelry box for some nice accessories, I started wondering if Autumn had already told Tristan

about me. Did he know he was going to be introduced to me? I wonder what he said. Did she show

him a picture of me? I started to get nervous like the kind of nervousness you feel when you go on a

blind date. And really, that's exactly what this was...a blind meeting.

I couldn't sleep at all that night and I kept trying to picture what Tristan looked like. I prayed to God

that he would be a nice guy and that he'd be attracted to me because pale, red hair and freckles

doesn't appeal to everyone.

I was still thinking about him when I woke up the next morning. After I brushed my teeth, I was

looking at myself in the mirror and I kept telling myself: Yeah, this will be good. I'll just be myself

and Tristan will like me. God, I just hoped he wouldn't turn out to be a dick.

In the evening, I was getting ready to go to Autumn's apartment and I had the sudden urge to call

and tell her I wasn't feeling well. I started to pick up the phone but then I thought: No, she'll see

right through that lie. Needless to say, I ended up going over there...after I sat in my car for twenty

minutes debating with myself. When I knocked on the door, she opened it on the first knock and I

couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting by the door.

"Bridge! You're here!" she said excitedly. Oddly, she closed the door behind her and we were both

standing in the hallway. Autumn was dressed casual in a pair of black low-rise jeans and a white

halter top with spaghetti straps. Her bleach-blonde hair was styled in her usual page-boy hairstyle

and she was sporting a couple black and silver bracelets. Her eye makeup was still as dramatic as

ever but I was glad she went easy on the lip gloss.

I looked at her with a confused expression. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just..." She started biting her black painted fingernails and looking at me intently.

All of a sudden I started to get a little concerned. "What? Is Tristan here?"

"Yeah, he's here."

I realized that even though I didn't really get to ask questions about Tristan, I was curious as to what

information he knew. "What did you tell him about me?"

She gave a short laugh. "Don't worry, I just told him good things about you." She was smiling and

giving me the once-over. "Oh my God, he's gonna fucking love you! You look soooo pretty."

I smiled back. "Thanks." Then I thought out loud, "Why did you close the door?"

Autumn shifted on her black Vans sneakers with the little white skulls and put a hand on her hip.

"'Cause I don't want him peeking out to see if it's you. He's been watching the door all night."

"Really?" I said with wide-eyed astonishment. Then I looked at her questioningly and asked,

"So...can I come in or what?" Autumn's hazel eyes were looking at me with this weird expression

like she wasn't sure if she wanted me to come in or for Tristan to come out here.

"Yeah, you can come in. I'll introduce you." Right at that moment, I felt a warm flush bloom inside

me and I could feel myself getting nervous. My palms were a little sweaty so I quickly wiped them

on my dress because I didn't want to shake Tristan's hand with clammy hands. Yeah, that would've

made a nice first impression. As I walked into her apartment the music was blasting, there was

smoke in the air, and people were standing around; mostly with drinks in their hands, laughing,

talking, and some people were hanging out on the sofa. I still couldn't spot this `Tristan' person and

I honestly forgot Autumn's description of him. She was walking in front of me as we walked

towards her kitchen. Her kitchen was so small that it couldn't accommodate a table and chairs. For

some reason, I was looking at the floor as I walked so I didn't see who we approached. The next

thing I knew, I heard her voice and I looked up.

"Bridget, this is Tristan. Tris, this is Bridget."

You know how some people describe the world actually coming to a complete stop and the only

thing in focus that's actually moving is you and this other person? That's exactly what happened. I

looked up and I swear, I didn't notice anyone else in the room but Tristan. He was absolutely

gorgeous! And he was definitely my type. He was tall...about six-feet if I had to take a guess, and he

had golden blond hair which was cut short but tousled in a very sexy way.

I continued to survey his handsome face. Blond eyebrows with pretty cerulean eyes underneath that

were framed by long lashes. There was a real intensity behind his eyes and his gaze caused me to

shift on my feet nervously. I swallowed thickly when my eyes darted to his sensual and very

kissable lips. Tristan had a strong, masculine jaw and the cutest dimple on his left cheek that I've

ever seen. He was smiling at me and he definitely debunked the stereotype that the English have

bad teeth.

His attire was very common for a lot of young guys today: a black tank-top which showed off the

strong, sculpted muscles in his arms. He wasn't skinny; he was lean and his arms were scattered

with tattoos here and there. I had a strong feeling he liked the color black because of the rubber

necklace and matching bracelets he was wearing; even the stud in his left ear looked like an onyx

gemstone. Below his black shirt were faded-blue baggy jeans and on his feet were black Converse

Chuck Taylors. Overall, I thought he looked very good. He was holding a Guinness beer bottle in

his hand and I couldn't help but notice his long, piano fingers. The sexual part of my female brain

started to imagine all the things his beautiful fingers could be capable of.

Once I finished my physical appraisal of Tristan, I found my voice. "Hi," I said meekly. I managed

to smile at him but I knew I looked like a deer caught in headlights because he gave a short laugh.

"Hi. It's nice to finally meet you, Bridget." He had a boyish voice, but oh my God…his British

accent was orgasmic. "Autumn's told me a lot about you." I thought: Oh really? I wonder what she

told you.

"Oh really?" I said out loud. "I hope it was all good things." I turned my attention to Autumn and

she was looking back and forth between me and Tristan with an expression that told me she was

really ecstatic. She looked like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"Of course," he said. And he flashed that brilliant smile of his.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to chat," Autumn said lightly. She walked away and left me and Tristan

standing there...halfway in the kitchen and halfway in the living room. All of a sudden he started

staring at me again...directly in my eyes. I felt fidgety and I noticed my palms were sweaty again. I

started to think that it was a good thing I didn't shake his hand. But I was also wondering about his

opinion of me because I noticed his eyes begin their scrutiny up and down my feminine form. I

guess now it was my turn to be appraised.

Tristan took his time looking me over, and once he was satisfied, his eyes met mine and he broke

the uncomfortable silence between us. "So...you want a beer?"

"Sure." I smiled again but this time it wasn't a nervous smile. It was one of my genuine `I-think-Imay-

like-you' kind of smiles. Tristan walked over to the fridge to get me a beer and I couldn't help

but watch him. I swear the man is the definition of `sex on legs'. Even the way he moved was

turning me on. He had a swagger but I could tell it was just natural confidence.

He came back over to me and handed me a Guinness beer. Yuck, I hate Guinness. But I didn't tell

him that. I thanked him and I drank it anyway. After all, he was being polite. I noticed he was just

staring at me again so I figured I needed to get the conversation going. Ugh, this started to feel like

an interview. I wondered if I should start asking him all the standard questions like: `Where are you

from?' `What do you do?' Then I really started wondering about what he did and how old he was. I

began to realize that Autumn didn't actually tell me any pertinent information about him.

I sighed internally and thought: Well...here goes nothing. "So Tristan, how long have you been in

The States?"

"Since I was eighteen." I looked at him expectedly like: 'So how many years is that?' He caught on

quickly because he added, "Five years."

"Oh. And uh, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm an actor. Well...I'm trying to be an actor." There was that dimple again. "What about you?"

"I teach fourth grade."

"Oh that's right. Autumn told me you were a teacher." He gave me the once-over again and then he

grinned. "You don't look like a teacher." I wasn't surprised by his comment because I received that

response a lot whenever I told anyone about my profession. Then I was suddenly aware of the fact

that he seemed to know more about me than I knew about him. In the back of my mind I plotted to

get revenge on Autumn for this.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I get that a lot." I laughed. My brain seemed to press an internal rewind button

and I started thinking about the fact that he was an aspiring actor. I looked down at the floor and

mumbled quietly to myself, "Autumn didn't tell me he was an actor."

Tristan heard exactly what I said. "What did she tell you?" And he smiled at me again. I swear I

could get lost in those sky blue eyes.

"Actually not much. She just told me about you yesterday. She said she wanted me to meet you and

that you were beautiful." I gave him a coy smile.

He grinned and cast his eyes down shyly. When our eyes met, he said, "Hmmm. That's odd, 'cause

she talked a lot about you." Then he looked up at the ceiling with an expression like he was talking

to himself and murmured, "Wait, no...I was asking all the questions and she was answering them."

I couldn't hold back my surprise. "Really?!? I mean..." I let out a nervous laugh.

"When I saw your picture, I knew I wanted to meet you." She showed him my picture but wouldn't

show me his? What the hell was up with her? I couldn't help what came out of my mouth next.

"She showed you a picture of me?!?"

His next words really shocked me. He grinned and said, "Actually, I saw you on MySpace. I saw

you on her top friends and I clicked on your profile."

For a moment, I was speechless because Autumn didn't tell me that either. I had a strong feeling that

Tristan probably mentioned seeing me on her MySpace but why didn't she tell me anything about

him? When I finally found my voice, I gave him a shy smile and then I found Autumn's floor to be

very interesting. "I didn't know you saw my profile." I looked back up at him and laughed lightly.

"Autumn didn't tell me that and she wouldn't show me a picture of you. She said that she wanted me

to be surprised."

He smiled charmingly. "Well...are you?" Oh, he was good. He was real good. Flirting already, are

we?

"I sure am." At that moment, I started to imagine how easy it must be for him to attract the opposite

sex.

We spent the rest of night chatting, laughing, and mildly flirting. It was amazing how natural it

started to feel after such a short period of time. I started to feel very comfortable with him and the

feeling seemed to be mutual. I noticed how at random moments he would just stop talking and stare

intently into my eyes. Man, this guy could be intense. And I noticed him giving me the once-over

on numerous occasions. He was actually very sweet, and I loved listening to him talk. He seemed to

like asking me questions about myself rather than talk about himself. Every time we'd get into a

string of conversation about him, he'd answer me but follow up with questions about me.

He also started complimenting me. He took a few strands of my auburn hair between his long

fingers. "You have beautiful hair." My throat went dry as I watched him run his fingers through

from the roots to the tips. My scalp tingled and I suppressed a slight shiver of pleasure. I could

already feel my ears getting hot. I went cross-eyed for a moment when he tapped my nose gently.

"And I like your freckles." It was too late; I was blushing. Talk about being 'tickled pink'.

After making me blush furiously, I didn't mind telling him that I liked his tatts. That's when he

actually started telling me the history behind each of them. I was touched to know that the one on

his right ring finger was his mother's name. As he was showing them to me, I couldn't help but think

that a pair of angel wings would look absolutely divine spanned out on his back.

My first impression of Tristan was that he reminded me of a fallen angel. He had this almost

inhuman beauty but he seemed oblivious to it. I couldn't detect an arrogant bone in his entire body.

And judging by his extremely casual appearance, he didn't seem like one to obsess over vanity. But

I was fooling myself because a man as gorgeous as him has definitely been made aware of his good

looks; probably as soon as he hit puberty. I could just imagine what his mother had to go through

with all the teenage girls calling the house.

But since he was showering me with compliments, I felt that he deserved a few in return. After the

presentation of his body art, I said, "You really have beautiful eyes. I've never seen a shade of blue

so vibrant." Tristan grinned but I was a little disappointed that I couldn't make him blush too. I tried

again by saying, "I have a thing for British guys, you know; especially blonds." His ivory skin still

didn't change in hue. I was actually fine with that because I think I blushed enough already for the

both of us. "I always wished I was a blonde," I confessed.

In response to my confession, he really put some icing on the cake by telling me, "I think you look

perfect with red hair." He added a dashing smile behind that one.

After about three more Guinness beers and half a box of pizza between us, we headed out to the

backyard to talk more privately. Autumn lived on the first floor of her apartment building so she had

access to the backyard. We sat down together on a white plastic loveseat and he turned to face me.

He was staring at me again, but this time it looked like he was contemplating his next words.

"Did Autumn tell you why she wanted you to meet me?" I began to panic because I wondered if I

should I tell him the truth and risk having him laugh at me? Wait, hold on. He'd really be laughing

at Autumn because she's the one who was talking all that `soul mate' crap. I decided to tell him the

half-truth.

"Yeah, she said that we might like each other."

"Oh." He suddenly got quiet but he was still looking into my eyes.

I gave him a perplexed look. "What is it?" And then I touched his bare arm. Wow, his skin felt really

nice. It was warm and smooth and I found myself wanting a more in-depth exploration. He scooted

closer to me and held my hand in his. Oh my God. That's when I noticed something strange. His

hand seemed to fit mine and I couldn't help but to look down at our joined hands and smile

inwardly.

His voice was soft when he said, "Promise you won't laugh if I tell you this?" I thought: Well, well,

well. Maybe Autumn told him the same bullshit she told me.

"I promise." I gave him my most beautiful smile. "I cross my heart." Then I made the crossing

motion with my free hand; right on top of my left breast. Tristan watched the motion intently.

"She ringed me the other day to tell me about a dream she had. She was out of breath and was

like...going mental. At first I was worried like, 'What the fuck is wrong with you?' She told me that

she had a dream about me and it freaked her out.

She was queued up in this coffee shop and she heard crying. It sounded like a child crying. She

turned around and there was this little boy in the corner of the shop and he was crying. No one

seemed to notice him 'cause people kept going about their business. She thought that was weird that

no one said anything to the boy. So she walked over to him and knelt down in front him. He was

covering his face and crying into his hands. She asked him what was wrong. Why was he crying?

Was he lost? At first he didn't answer her. It was like he didn't notice she was there. Then he stopped

crying and looked up at her. She said the little boy looked like he could be my son or something. He

looked like me. He pointed to his heart and said, "I hurt. I hurt." She said he had a British accent.

She asked him if he wanted her to get a doctor. Then he said, "I need the red hair girl. I need the red

hair girl." Then he started crying again. She said at first she didn't know who he was talking about.

But then she said something clicked in her head. It was you. She told me you're her only mate with

red hair. And that's when she noticed he had a tatt on his finger. The same one I have, on the same

finger. And she realized the little boy was me.

I've told Autumn before that I'd like to settle down with one person. You know, fall in love...have a

girlfriend…all that good stuff. But I just haven't found that special someone. A lot of women I meet

don't understand that I can't devote all my time to them. I'm busy a lot...you know what I mean?

And one time when I was drunk, I told her that my heart aches sometimes." He laughed. "I can get

all sentimental and shit when I've been drinking." Then Tristan looked away from me and dropped

my hand. His voice lowered when he said, "That freaked you out too, huh?"

I was speechless. No wonder Autumn was acting all weird on me. No wonder she believed that

Tristan was my soul mate. But why didn't she tell me about the dream? Why did she only tell

Tristan? I said, "Yeah, that was weird." Then I spoke softly when I asked, "Do you believe her...I

mean the dream? Like, that you needed to meet me?"

Tristan turned around and faced me, and at that moment our eyes locked on each other. The look he

gave me was the most intense one he'd given me all night. He moved closer to me so that we were

probably an inch apart, and that's when I noticed he smelled so good; a very masculine scent like

smoke, mint and something woodsy mixed with the smell of freshly laundered clothes. He caressed

my cheek with the back of his hand and whispered, "Yes I do, Bridget."

I won't deny that I wanted him to kiss me. To hell with the fact that we just met...I wanted him to. I

was feeling sentimental myself so I said, “I think I needed to meet you too.” He flashed his

beautiful smile at me again…with that cute dimple and all.

Needless to say, the kiss never happened that night. It was probably 3AM when I told Tristan that I

had to go home. He looked upset but I gave him my phone number and told him to call me some

time. He said he definitely would and he gave me his. I needed to find Autumn to tell her I was

leaving so Tristan and I went back inside to look for her.

She was standing by her stereo talking to someone, and how she could hear them above the loud

music was beyond my comprehension. When she saw me approach, she perked up, excused herself

from her company, and came over to me.

"I have to go, Aut," I said to her. As soon as I said this, I saw her expression change to

disappointment. She looked over at Tristan who was standing next to me, and then she looked back

at me.

"Awww, why?" She whined.

"Because it's late."

"But it's the weekend and you don't have to work." I felt Tristan shift next to me and I could feel his

eyes on me, so I chanced a glance at him. He looked hopeful and he was smiling at me. I could

already feel my resistance slipping but I tried hard to stick to my guns.

"I can't I---"

"It's too late for you to drive home, Bridge. I know you're tired. Hey, you can crash here. Tristan is

crashing on my couch." She smiled as if saying that would further persuade me.

"So…what…you want me to crash on the couch with him or something?" I laughed but they were

both silent; just looking at me as if to say: `Why not?' Oh hell no! I just met this guy; even though

deep down I would love to snuggle up next to him. I lied with a straight face and said, "I can't,

Autumn. I have things to do tomorrow." Then I turned to Tristan and said, "I had a great time,

Tristan. It was really nice meeting you. And I meant what I said before…give me a call me some

time. Maybe we can get together." I took one of his hands in both of mine and smiled up at him. He

was staring at me again and I was beginning to find it a little unnerving.

Then he seemed to come out of his trance and realize I was talking to him because he said, "Don't

worry...I will." To my surprise, he stepped closer to me and I found myself in his warm embrace.

My arms began to encircle around him and for the next few seconds, we just held each other. For

one short moment, I was lost in this new boy named Tristan. And I swear…I could've stayed right

there in his arms. It felt so comfortable...so safe...and so right. A part of me was actually

disappointed when he released me. "Let me walk you out?" He was being such a gentleman that it

actually warmed my heart.

After saying goodbye to Autumn and some quick goodbyes to the few people who were still

lingering around, Tristan and I walked out to the parking lot. When we got to my car, I unlocked the

driver's side door and he actually opened it for me. I turned slightly to look at him and he was

grinning. "Thanks," I said shyly as I got into my car. Once he closed the door, I rolled down the

window. Then I looked up at him and smiled. "Well, see you later handsome."

He leaned down so that we were face-to-face and he spoke in that orgasmic British accent of his,

"See you later...red hair girl." Then he gave me another beautiful smile. I honestly don't think I

could ever get tired of seeing him smile.

I couldn't help but to smile back and it stayed glued to my face the whole ride home. It wasn't until

I was driving home that I remembered my MySpace profile was private. If Tristan said he was able

to see my pictures, then I must've accepted his friend request. I planned to check my friend list

tomorrow. If he was one of my friends, the idea of checking out his profile and being able to talk to

him online made me very excited. Even though, talking to him in person was no comparison. When

I got inside my apartment I was still smiling and I honestly couldn't stop until I finally shut my eyes

to sleep.

That night I dreamt of me and Tristan in a coffee shop. I was sitting on his lap, his arms were

around me, and he was whispering in my ear. I don't recall what he was saying but I'm sure some of

it was naughty because I was giggling like a schoolgirl. I had my arms around his neck and we were

gazing into each other's eyes. His beautiful azure eyes captured me in a spell and his wonderful

scent engulfed my senses. Suddenly, his head started to move closer to mine and I began to meet

him halfway. Our lips were a mere centimeter away when he whispered against my mouth the only

words I do remember him saying: "There's something going on between us."

I had no idea how right he would turn out to be.

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