A/N: Hello, I'm back with an idea that has been interrupting my thoughts too much to not act upon it. I'm not sure where this is going to take me, so if you are willing, please continue to read as I figure this out. As in life, there are multiple points of view and not all of them are the same. Or maybe they are.

I don't own anybody, just little old me.

POV 1

I have had short-term relationships in the past, and truthfully my thing is more of what need can this person take care of for me. That is not meant to sound selfish or bold, it is meant to be the truth. I am a romantic sort of woman and I will settle for having a physical relationship if it meets my needs. I like to be in control of my life. I have a good handle on my education, my job is one of prestige and high profile. It makes me go out on a limb, along with family obligations and countenances in my life.

Dabbling between men and women, I do not have a preference. I take pride that I can bed a beautiful woman or a handsome man with almost little effort on my part. I choose to take care of myself, both mind and body, and have been blessed with good genes. For a shy girl, that is tremendous to me and helps to build up my confidence. I do not like to take center stage but can do so if the situation presents itself. This is me.

We met her months ago and was I immediately struck by her beauty and the way she carries herself with such confidence. It is, however, her humor and the way she treats everyone around her that touches me the most. After we were introduced to each other, I felt her warmth and I was struck with the impression that the people in her life to lucky to have her. She seemed to like making me laugh and would sometimes go out of her way to do so. I enjoyed spending time with her, and after a while, my thoughts about her changed from friendship into fantasy. I know it is pointless but I cannot help it because I find her utterly adorable.

She has no idea what she does to me, and I believe that is a good thing. We are friends, after all, and I do not have the nerve to tell her otherwise. It is not that I am not confident in our relationship, I am. But the thought of losing her is enough to not take that chance to tell her how I feel. Devil's advocate has me realizing that I could have the most wonderful relationship with this woman, and yet I am too frightened to act.

She has an elegance about her and yet she is so simple. She is truly the girl next door, and I wonder if she will let me move beside her. She can make anyone feel at ease while at the same time being uneasy herself. I like to watch her without being noticed, just to see the expressions on her face when she thinks of something that is funny. She has the maturity of a woman who has been around town, and yet she will laugh at the most innocent of situations. Most people do not know this side of her because she knows how she wants to be represented. She wants the vulnerability to be hidden away from prying eyes, but I know her too well and that will never be buried from me.

My thoughts about her are anything but innocent. If she would be open to me as a lover, I would be on top of the world. We flirt back and forth as friends, only the best of friends can do so. We are that and, in my heart, I believe so much more. She believes we are just joking like horny freshmen women in college, however, those times haunt me. Sometimes I wonder if she can see the real me and would be receptive to a different us. She has family and her established career and I only fit into that as a coworker. She says she admires me and is in awe of my intelligence. Little does she know that I spend my free time wondering if I could win her over.

Does she know how often I just watch her, almost to the point of obsession? Watching her walk with so much confidence and swagger makes me fantasize what it is like to have her come undone in my arms. In my bed. If I had the courage, I would flirt without restraint.

Perhaps she would walk into my office while I am at my desk absorbed in completing an overdue report. I could see myself closing the door and hearing the sound of the lock engaging, my heart would beat loudly in my ears. I think she would look at me with curiosity as she closes the blinds to the outside world. We are alone and the time is now to confess our emotions to each other. She takes and puts the folder down on my desk and asks me what is happening. My love, what is about to happen is that I will show you my heart and come to you, while hoping and praying you feel the same for me. If not, I will have lost all that I have wanted.

She would tilt her head a little to the right, and her eyes would look into mine with certainty and excitement for what we are about to embark upon. This encourages me to move slowly towards her, with my heart in my hands and desire coursing through my body. I approach her without breaking eye contact, as I cannot believe this link that she appears to be feeling. She seems frozen in place and I cannot stop myself.

With her desire that shines in her eyes as she locks into mine, I would be propelled forward to make the move to prove my intention to her. And what is my intention? I am scared to death, but it is now or never. This has got to feel right, as there is no going back for me. Can she make the transition as well?

I would stop in front of her and try to calm my loudly beating heart. We have approached each other before, but this time it would feel different. It feels like it is our moment to express our inner most selves to each other. My hand reaches out to touch her arm and she follows it with her eyes. When I connect with her body, all my nerve endings in my hand are focused completely on the feel of her.

Looking into her dark eyes, I would search for a sign that I should continue. It has to be there, it has to be real or else I risk losing the best relationship that I have. What I see is love and kindness staring back at me. Am I reading too much into this? Is she feeling what I am feeling for her? My courage is fleeting quickly.

She would smile and pulls me into an embrace. My arms wrap around and pull her in as closely as I can, as she tightens her grip as well. I run my hands up to her neck and into her dark long hair. God, I love the feel of it in my hands, the soft and silky strands that make it impossible for me not to encircle my fingers into it. She would tilt her head away and expose that lovely long neck of hers. I could not let the opportunity slip by and would, at last, place a soft wet kiss on her eloquent skin. I can tell she likes it because of the low moan that her vibrates within her throat. I am overwhelmed by her feel and the scent that is so her, designed to be worn by her and no one else.

My phone rings, and it brings me out of my fantasy about my best friend. For a moment, it startles me as I quickly pull my mind out of its day-dream state and attempt to focus on reality. I look around and realize that my blinds are not closed and my door is wide open. The technicians are mulling about while performing their daily tasks. I listen to the person on the other end of the telephone and feel a let down as I continue to come back from an aroused high. The let-down is rather much, and I take notes of the conversation to revisit when in a better mental state.

And she strides into my office, this time keeping the door and the blinds up. She ungraciously sits down on the couch while waiting patiently for my attention. Little does she know that a few minutes earlier, the thought of kissing her was causing my body to shake in anticipation.

"Hey, let's go try that new place on the waterfront for lunch today. I'm starving."

I'm starving as well.

Be kind Dear Readers, it's been a while.