James remained unwilling to admit that Olivia’s request intrigued him; so, he chose solitude over her company. His heart thumped as he entered his bedroom, and it did not stop. On the contrary, much to his frustration, it kept pounding in his chest, minutes after he left her alone.

“Now that’s what I call a ‘distraction.’ She plays the piano. Well, good for her. But what if her knee is broken? Or maybe even her leg? I can’t take her to the hospital; not in this weather. Get her out of your mind, James. Focus on the more important things in life.”

James opened his bedroom balcony door. The cold breeze struck his body. Raindrops landed on his face, as he looked up into the sky. Closing his eyes, he drowned in the fragrances of wet soil, wet snow, and damp wood, feeling water dripping down his cheeks. He ran both hands through his hair, as his heartbeat subsided. Mother Nature, once again, comforted him.

But James was soon dealt another surprise, one that made his blood boil in his veins. Barely had he become calm when he heard music. Apparently, Olivia had disobeyed him, finding and, now, playing the piano. His initial thought involved scolding her once more. Not only was she being disrespectful, she was putting herself at risk. All the same, he would do no scolding. Instead, he crossed his bedroom, stopped under the doorframe and leaned against the wall, preferring to listen to her. She was playing one of his favorite songs: Guns N' Roses “November Rain”. Her delicate hands danced over the piano keys, as passion poured out of her. Every few seconds, she would squeeze her eyes shut, losing herself in the magic of the moment and, disregarding her pain, she even tapped her right foot on the floor. As much as her disobedience had annoyed him, he simply could not deny that he enjoyed watching her. In fact, he liked it so much that only a minute afterwards, he could no longer resist the temptation: he had to accompany her.

However, an acoustic guitar was not suitable for this. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the piano and an electric just fit the song so much better. Therefore, James went to the next room, grabbed his sunburst Gibson from its stand and one of his smaller amplifiers. He then rushed to the living room and plugged it in a socket on the wall behind the piano. Olivia looked up at him, as he strapped his guitar around his neck. A blissful smile spread across her face, as she hummed the lyrics.

“Alright,” he spoke, holding a silver pick tightly between his thumb and index finger. “You got your wish; from the top. Three, two, one…”

She did not utter a word; she simply, happily complied. Olivia started the piano introduction of the famous ballad, fixing her gaze on the keys. Lost in his thoughts, he had missed this part earlier. But now that he was there, James could savor every moment of it. Too impatient to wait any longer, he joined her, much before he was supposed to. The young brunette did not complain. Neither was she distracted. On the contrary, she sang “November Rain” loud and proud. It did not fit James’ baritone at all, but the fact that he had someone to play music with made him happy. Olivia’s voice was full of passion and conviction, as she allowed the sea of emotion to flood her heart.

When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained But darling when I hold you Don't you know I feel the same 'Cause nothing lasts forever And we both know hearts can change And it's hard to hold a candle In the cold November rain We've been through this such a long long time Just trying to kill the pain But lovers always come and lovers always go And no one's really sure who's letting go today Walking away If we could take the time To lay it on the line I could rest my head Just knowing that you were mine All mine So if you want to love me Then darling don't refrain Or I'll just end up walking In the cold November rain Do you need some time...on your own Do you need some time...all alone Everybody needs some time... on their own Don't you know you need some time...all alone I know it's hard to keep an open heart When even friends seem out to harm you But if you could heal a broken heart Wouldn't time be out to charm you Sometimes I need some time...on my own Sometimes I need some time...all alone Everybody needs some time... on their own Don't you know you need some time...all alone And when your fears subside And shadows still remain I know that you can love me When there's no one left to blame So never mind the darkness We still can find a way 'Cause nothing lasts forever Even cold November rain Don't ya think that you need somebody Don't ya think that you need someone Everybody needs somebody You're not the only one You're not the only one

Incredibly enough, James completely lost control at the solo part. His fingertips turned white as his fingers danced across the fret board. He banged his head rhythmically, squeezing his eyes shut, as wave after wave of emotion swept over him. It wasn’t just that the song that had made him come alive, but the simple fact that he could share this experience with someone, even a total stranger like her.

A downward strum concluded the epic, Guns N' Roses ballad. By the time it was finished, drops of sweat had formed across his forehead and his fingers were sore. James opened his eyes and looked down at Olivia. She was a mesmerizing sight. Strands of her hair were in her face and she was short of breath and yet, Olivia was glowing. Her smile had turned into a huge grin and her big, hazel eyes were illuminated by some deep happiness within her.

“A savior and a playmate:” she said. “It must be my lucky day.”

“Your knee wouldn’t agree with you.” He muttered. “You did great, though. Now, get back to the couch.”

“Please: stop ordering me around.” Olivia made her voice sound sweeter. “I’m sorry; I just had to get my hands on this baby.”

“No, you’re not.” He disagreed. “Not this time. You could be a lot more hurt than you know. Here, take my hand, you need to lie d…”

“Jesus, you don’t let up, do you?” Frustration was lingering in her voice. “I said I was ok. Let’s do another one.”

“This conversation is over, Olivia.” James would not indulge her; as a matter of fact, he was beginning to get angry, once again. “No more piano for you tonight.”

“James…” She gave a huff of exasperation. “You have played with someone before. Am I right?”

The words that left her alluring mouth hit him like a wrecking ball. She had posed one of the few questions that he had been dreading for years. Sadness darkened his eyes, as he heaved a long, deep sigh. Loosening his grip on his instrument, he forced his gaze away from her.

“What’s the matter?” Tension and fear filled Olivia’s fruity tone. “What did I say?”

“I have…” His voice was a choked, pain-ridden whisper. “Why?”

“I was raised Catholic.” She spoke, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I could perform all the recitals I wanted, but play in a band? That was a big no-no. ‘Too many boys’ my father used to say. I don’t just play the piano, James. I have a performance degree in it.”

“What a shame…” A bitter smile formed on his face. “It’s like being locked outside Wonderland and you don’t have the key.”

“Wow…” She laughed. “That’s a nice metaphor. Please, play with me tonight. I need it. And … I think you need it, too.”

Olivia’s persistence and her polite requests moved him. A few minutes ago, she was nothing but a distraction, a small disturbance in his everyday routine. Now, she was someone that he was starting to admire, for more reasons than just her talent in piano. She embodied a brashness that he had never witnessed in any woman he had met so far. Yes, her inquisitive nature had annoyed him, her persistence had made him want to avoid her, but compared to her other qualities, those were minor issues.

“Ok.” He shook his head downward. “Let me grab a stool and my acoustic.”

“Yes!” She cheered, rapidly clapping her hands, as a huge grin lit up her gorgeous face.

The living room of his cabin soon turned into their own, personal playground. Song or genre, electric or acoustic guitar did not matter. James gave his absolute best in each and every one of the songs that they played – and sometimes sang – together. The stiff, grumpy, mountain man had vanished altogether. In his stead was a young, passionate guitarist who only had one thing in mind: enjoying himself by having some much needed fun. Olivia, also, was experiencing much of the same. Indeed, she resembled more of a child with ten new toys than the nosy woman who had just barged into James’ life. As the minutes flew by, the fact that she was playing with someone seemed to excite her more and more; it was such a completely new experience. She seemed to be determined to suck the marrow out of this experience, perhaps thinking she would never have it again. This experience for James, however, also served as a reminder of what had been missing in his life ever since he decided to move to the mountain.

More than three dozen songs later, despite sore fingers, and a buzzing head, his heart was content. Pain and headache were not enough to make him regret his decision. It had been an incredible night, full of old tunes, memory and more importantly, emotion. Olivia stretched her arms one last time, before addressing him:

“I’d really love to go on. It’s been fantastic.” She confessed, turning to him, as he put his acoustic down on the floor. “But I’m exhausted.”

“I’m tired, too.” He gave her a polite smile. “Take my hand. You need to get some sleep.”

Olivia had no objections this time. The sensation of her soft, tender hand in his palm sent sparks up and down his body. Her warmth made his heart flutter, as their eyes met. Neither of them stood. He leaned in towards Olivia, her fiery gaze luring him in, as she ran her thumb across his wrist. Olivia reached her other arm towards him and circled it around his neck, as he tightened his grip on her hand. James shut his eyes, before his lips crushed against hers. Feeling her hot breath on his skin, he could almost hear his heart, as it pounded in his chest. She held him closer, as their kiss deepened. James used his left hand to push the blanket to the side. The smoothness of her thigh made his manhood twitch. But, unfortunately, it also acted as a wakeup call. James had had so much fun that he was about to lose control. His inhibitions flashed through his mind, forcing him to stop.

“No…” He whispered, abruptly pulling back, his eyes filled with a deep worry. “This is a mistake. We shouldn’t. We can’t.”

“Why?” She wondered, her voice raspy and low. James did not answer. He merely rose from his stool, biting his lower lip, unwilling to speak any further.

“I was wrong earlier,” he stated in his deep, manly voice. “You shouldn’t sleep on the couch. You can use my bedroom. I’ll take the couch. Goodnight.”

“James, what…”

“Olivia, don’t!” He cried, raising his hand to chest height. “It’s rather complicated; I don’t want to talk about it. Now, please, you have a good night.”