"Pizza, ma'am? It's hot from John's, and I really had no clue what to get..."

I looked up from my painting to find Sydney standing in the doorway, a pizza box in his hands and a boyish grin on his face. He was wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black biker jacket. He looked amazing.

"So, is this your day job?" I asked as I set the paintbrush aside and wiped my hands, trying not to look too surprised that he was there. I'd given him my business card the night before and asked him to come by the studio, but I hadn't really expected him to do it.

"Day job?" He looked at the pizza, then shook his head. "No way! Usually we are practicing or writing something new. So, this is what you do?" he asked, looking around.

"This is what I do,? I answered, echoing his question. Sketch, paint, sculpt a little. It was all in a day's work.

"Very awesome.? He put the pizza box down and started looking at different things hanging around the room while I cleared a little space on the table for the pizza and poured us each a cup of coffee.

The conversation turned to small talk and then I found myself blurting out the thought that had been burning in my brain since I?d first laid eyes on him.

"I'd like to paint you."

"Paint me?" It was his turn to play the echo game.

"I can pay you for your time,? I added hastily, thinking maybe I could bribe him into sitting for me.

"Pay me to paint me? Like a portrait or something?" he asked and washed some pizza down with a sip of black coffee.

"How would you feel about posing nude?" I asked, trying not to blush. He was a perfect subject, like Michelangelo?s David. My future masterpiece was sitting right in front of me.

"I would do that,? he said with a smirk, and I knew I was in trouble. "Like how? On a couch or something?"

I couldn?t help but smile. He was such a charming smart ass, exactly the kind of guy my parents would hate. "I don't know yet. I have to think about it."

"So, uh, what's someone get paid for something like that?"

"How much do you want?" I asked, curious what he might think he?s worth.

"I don't have any idea."

"Two hundred?" I queried, wondering if I was being too cheap or too generous.

"Two hundred?" he repeated, and I wasn?t sure if he was pleased or insulted.

"Not enough?" I asked, unsure if I could afford much more than that. My parents had more money than they knew what to do with, but I was trying to make it on my own.

"No! Uh, I mean no. That's more than enough." He smiled again, and I found myself admiring that smile with more than an artist?s interest.

"It might take a few sittings,? I warned, lying through my teeth. All I really needed was a few photographs, but for some reason, I wanted an excuse to keep him around a little while longer.

"That's cool."

"When can you start?"

"Now?"

"Now?! You mean, like right now?" I was so surprised by his answer that I almost dropped my pizza.

"Well, I mean, whenever is good for you." I noticed him watching me with those beautiful blue eyes of his, and I felt a blush creeping into my face. "Do I make you nervous?"

"No! Of course not,? I denied, juggling the slice of pizza and lying through my teeth again. Not only did he make me nervous, he made me feel like a six-year old with a silly schoolgirl crush. There was only one way to find out what I really wanted to know and that was to ask. "Are you seeing anyone?"

He choked on his pepperoni, and I reached over to pat him on the back, alarmed that I might cause him to choke to death with my question. After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked at me again, shaking his head as he took a swallow of coffee.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my hand lingering against his back.

"Fine," he croaked. "Just caught me a little off guard is all." He took another swallow of his coffee before answering. "Haven't been seeing anyone in a while now. She couldn't handle the chicks at the show."

I rubbed his back a little longer than necessary, feeling like an idiot for asking such a stupid question. I wasn?t sure whether to be happy he was available or annoyed he was always surrounded by women. "Oh?" I asked stupidly.

"Yeah.? I thought I heard him sigh as I pulled my hand away. ?There are so many people at the shows and a lot of women walking to the stage, asking for autographs or weird stuff."

"Weird stuff? Like what?" I asked, finishing off my slice of pizza.

"Like they want to have my kid, sign their ass... Sometimes it's really strange."

I laughed at that, visualizing him bending over to sign some obsessed fan girl?s naked backside.

"Or they think that I'm wanting their tongue down my throat and try to just climb all over me. I should get a body guard."

"Poor you," I said sarcastically and found myself smiling. "Most guys would love that sort of attention."

"You know, I used to really like it, but I've been trying for our break for a couple of years now, and I just want the recognition."

A small uncomfortable silence settled between us and then he unexpectedly reached over to brush his fingers against my face. "You know, I don't think that's a good shade on you,? he said as he brushed some paint from my cheek.

I blinked at him and felt my face turn crimson. There were butterflies in my stomach, and I felt a little lightheaded. Don?t be stupid, Sara, I tried to tell myself. Don?t get all starry eyed. He?s just a guy.

He was talking, saying something about the smear matching the color of the sand in my painting, but I barely heard him. He smiled and brushed a few strands of my hair behind an ear, and I found myself pulling away, his touch like fire against my skin.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to offend you." He smiled apologetically.

"You didn't,? I told him and tried to change the subject. ?How long have you been playing??

"Since I was five. My grandfather got my first guitar for my birthday that year."

I refilled his coffee and handed him the cup, grateful for something to keep my hands busy.

He took the cup and smiled his thanks. "You seeing anyone?" he asked suddenly, turning my question around on me and surprising me as much as I'd surprised him.

"Me?" I asked, awkwardly. ?No.?

"I asked the girl outside if you had any psycho ex-boyfriends." He chuckled at his own statement, and I frowned into my cup of coffee. The last guy I?d dated had turned into a nightmare, but that wasn?t exactly something you told someone on your first date, if that?s what this was.

"What did she say?" I asked, stirring cream and sugar into my coffee.

"She was amazingly quiet, about like you are."

"You think I'm quiet?" I looked up from my coffee, surprised at his assessment. "Would you prefer I ask you to autograph my ass?" I smiled, unable to resist teasing him a little.

He chuckled. "Got a pen?"

"Will paint work?" I bantered back.

"Sure, that's new for me."

"Should I get a tattoo that says ?Property of Sydney?, or would that be jumping the gun?"

"That may not hurt.? He grinned. "Keep the psychos away."

"Only if they can see it,? I countered, and that awkward silence settled between us again. "Why are you here, Sydney?? I asked, suddenly needing to know his real intentions. "Seriously, no bull shit."

"Lunch, since we missed out on coffee last night,? he replied simply.

"It's all about the pizza then,? I interrupted.

"And the fact that you are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time."

I thought about that a moment. Part of me was flattered by the compliment, and part of me was confused by it. I?d met one too many smooth talkers. Actions spoke louder than words. Words didn?t mean a thing. "Beauty's only skin deep, Syd. You have to dig deeper than that if you want to get to know the real me."

"Who says that's not why I'm here... digging deeper?"

"It's been a long time since I?ve let anyone get close."

"I have nothing but time,? he smiled again.

I was about to counter that when we were interrupted by my receptionist. ?Miss Bailey, your one o?clock is here.? Inwardly, I cursed her timing. I wasn?t ready to let him go just yet.

"One o' clock, Miss Bailey,? Sydney echoed, as he started getting ready to leave. "So, when can I see you again?" he asked, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was feeling the same way.

"Do you have a show later?" I asked, a plan starting to form in my mind.

"Tomorrow,? he smiled.

"No plans?"

"None.?

"I have to take care of business. Pay the bills. If you don't mind waiting..."

"I understand and not at all."

?Don't go anywhere,? I told him and hurried out the door, hoping my one o?clock wouldn?t take very long. I wanted to finish what I?d started with Sydney Kane.

After a few hours of driving, we stopped in a little diner on the side of the road. I wasn't really hungry, but he wanted to stretch his legs, and I was just along for the ride, so who was I to argue?

"I can afford to give you a raise now,? I told him once we finally sat down and got menus. ?Think you're worth more than two hundred?"

"What?" he chuckled, seemingly amused at my question. I wondered if he took it the way that I'd meant it. "We agreed on two. Keep going like this, I will do it for free. Use the money to pay Amy and overhead."

"I have a photographic memory, Syd," I admitted. "I only need to see you once to remember you forever." I knew even then that he would be hard to forget.

"Just once?" he asked, practically pouting.

I shrugged, trying to hide a smirk, enjoying teasing him again. "Depends on how hard I look the first time."

"Hm? Could take a couple of looks." He smiled and lifted his glass of water for a sip.

"I hope you're not shy," I told him and found my gaze moving over him admiringly.

"Why would I be shy? Hell, I sing every night. Can't do that being shy."

"You sing with your clothes on, Syd. Ever try it nude?"

"Huh. Never thought of that."

"Probably do in the shower,? I remarked, and then spontaneously reached across the table for his hand. "Let's be bad and order backwards."

He shook his head at me, then blinked as I took his hand. "Backwards?"

I nodded and smiled. "Dessert first. It's the best part."

"My mother always said 'Eat dessert first. Life's uncertain.'"

"You can even have my cherry," I winked mischievously.

His mouth fell open. "Uh huh," he finally stammered.

I broke into laughter at his reaction. "You are too cute. There should be a law against guys like you."

"Why's that?" he asked, as I reluctantly pulled my hand away.

"Because you're a heart breaker, that's why. Break a dozen or more hearts every night, I bet."

"Heart breaker? Me?" He put the menu down, turning serious. "I am not trying to do that."

I found myself searching those blue eyes of his for some hint of sincerity. "Promise?"

He nodded. "Just want one to call my own."

Little did he know, he was well on his way to getting his wish.

We ordered dessert -- a hot fudge sundae for me and apple pie a la mode for him -- and the next thing I knew we were talking about family. I'd managed to sidestep most of his questions, but when I asked if he had any siblings, I knew from the expression on his face that I'd hit a nerve.

"I had a sister, but she died. She killed herself," he told me, as though he were simply stating a fact, and I wondered what it was costing him to hide his emotions.

My expression must have betrayed my feelings, and I found myself reaching for his hand. "I'm so sorry, Syd," I told him, my heart going out to him. I knew what I'd be feeling if anything ever happened to my brother.

"I was twelve," he said as he slid his hand my way. "It was hard at first, but now I think it mainly affects Mom on her birthday, you know?"

I closed my hand around his, letting him talk, feeling his pain more than he knew.

"There's a song on the CD about her." He smiled a bit. "So yeah, it was just Mom, Dad, and I after that."

"Were you close?" I asked.

"Um, as close as a brother and sister at that age could be." He chuckled. "She used to beat me up. I was six years younger than her."

I tried not to wince. My own brother was four years younger than me, but we'd always been close. I'd never dream of raising a hand to him or he to me. "She was still your sister," I told him quietly. "What was her name?"

"Sharon."

"Sharon and Sydney," I remarked.

"That's okay, Mom's name is Nancy." He chuckled.

"Nancy?" I didn't catch the irony.

"I was born May 10th," he explained, "and she named me Syd."

I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding.

"Never heard of Sid Vicious?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed in sudden realization. "You're named after Sid Vicious?"

"Sid and Nancy? The woman he supposedly killed?" He grinned. "So Mom's a fan and...." He sighed. "Sydney Andrew Kane."

"I like it," I told him. "Your name, I mean. It fits." Though I secretly hoped he was nothing like his namesake.

"Andrew was my grandfather's name," he continued. "He's the one that gave me my first six string. Fender acoustic that I still have. Best present I ever got."

I nodded, remembering he'd mentioned that earlier and wondering if I could top it someday.

If someone told me that I'd have found myself kissing Sydney Kane on our first date, I would never have believed them, but that's exactly what happened. Our whirlwind romance seemed to be going the same way as lunch, where we'd skipped the main course and gone straight to dessert.

God, if I only knew then what I know now. We were so young and innocent. We thought we knew everything. We thought we knew what we were doing. We were just a couple of kids, and we were falling fast and falling hard.

After the diner, we walked and talked for a while longer, and eventually one thing led to another, and I found myself kissing him. First kisses are such sweet things. No matter how many times we've kissed since then, there's never anything like a first kiss. First kisses either make or break romances. There are either sparks or there aren't. I'll never forget our first kiss.

It was a beautiful spring day, and we were just getting ready to head back to the city on his bike. We'd just shared some of our deepest secrets, and we both seemed to feel some sort of bond, an attraction neither of us could deny. I'd told him I was afraid to fall in love with him, and he'd told me not to be afraid, and then, it had just happened.

His lips were soft and sweet, his kiss slow and unhurried, like a warm summer day, and I found myself feeling something I'd never felt before. I don't know how to explain it, but when he kissed me, it felt like nothing else mattered in the entire world but the two of us. It felt right, like it was meant to be, like this was what I had been waiting my whole life for, like we belonged together.

He broke away slowly with a muttered, "Wow," and I had to concur. There was no other word to describe what I was feeling. That was all it took. One kiss and I had fallen totally and madly in love with Sydney Kane.