After some much-needed sleep, I leaped from the bed the moment the alarm went off at ten-thirty AM. I wanted to make a good impression on Jean-Paul, as the last couple of times I was anything but put together. No, instead the last two times I've seen the man I've been a hot mess express. The first day being the day that I told Max that we were going our separate ways. My eyes had been puffy from crying and my face was tinted red. Then yesterday everything was going fine between the two of us until I found a shocking truth in the mirror when I was going to brush my teeth. The fact that the ham was stuck in between my teeth was enough to make me want to hide my face from him and never see him again. I suppose I could cancel the plans with him when he arrives...just tell him that I can't go. But I can't stand up the handsome hunk. My heart was beginning to fall for him unexpectedly. There was no way I could cancel the day with him.

I walked into the bathroom and prepared to take a shower. I walked into the warm water as it hit my back. For a moment, time stood still. I started thinking about Jean-Paul and what life would be like to date a French hunk. My mind seems to run wild and I lose train of my thoughts in the shower. I quickly shook the idea out of my mind as I turned the shower off and walked over to the mirror, slowly rubbing the fogged-up mirror. I brushed and flossed my teeth and then walked back into my room to change into my long white flowy summer dress and heels. I slipped my swimsuit on underneath. I walked back into the bathroom after the fog had cleared from the mirrors and applied a little bit of foundation, blush, eye shadow, and lip gloss.

I stepped back from the mirror and admired my gaze. I was amazed at how nicely I clean up. I only hoped it was enough to make Jean-Paul forget about the incident with the food in my teeth.

At 12 PM right on the dot, Jean-Paul came knocking on my front door. I embraced myself and took a long deep breath before walking over and answering the door. There he was in a pair of navy blue shorts that actually resembled swimming trunks and a tight-fitted white t-shirt.

I walked back into the living room, grabbing my keys, and we headed out the door and for my car.

I smiled at Jean-Paul as he occupied the passenger seat. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show up."

He looked and me and whispered, "I could never pass on hanging out with you again."

He smiled before turning to look out of the car window. We got comfortable because we had a one hour and thirty-minute car ride to Jersey.

I started making small talk and then finally asked him if he would like me to turn on the music. He liked that idea so we listened to music as we rolled down the windows. We felt the breeze coming in and sweeping through our hair as we talked and laughed.

Finally, we made it to Jersey and we stopped at a nearby restaurant to grab some lunch before heading to the beach. We went to a beach bistro with an oceanside view. I had pasta fagioli while Jean-Paul had fish and chips.

After finishing our lunch, we drove to the beach that we had decided on. We got out of the car and walked through the sand until we found a place that we wanted to sit so we could bask in the sun.

We sat on the beach for a few minutes before deciding to have a sand fight. I'm not exactly sure why we chose to do that, but it was much more interesting than a snowball fight. Of course, we turned our heads to avoid sand in the eyes. But I'm pretty sure we were wearing sand everywhere else. In our hair, probably our ears, and up our noses. It felt like we were two little kids finally having some fun.

After a few minutes, I got a little hot and sweaty, and decided I was ready for a dip in the ocean. I stood up while knocking some loose sand from myself. I took off my sundress and threw it down on the towel that Jean-Paul had brought and laid out across the sand. Jean-Paul had also stood and dusted himself off as well.

I grabbed Jean-Paul's hand without even thinking, whispered, "let's go", and off into the ocean we went. I ran so hard into the water without letting go of his hand. He looked down and smiled from ear to ear. We were finally neck-deep into the water. I looked into his green eyes as water was dripping down his face from his hair. Just when I didn't think he could get any cuter he absolutely had to.

My heart began to pound out of my chest and the butterflies returned to my stomach. I almost felt a little nauseous. I hurried out of the water and back to our spot on the beach. I had to catch my breath because I felt as if I was about to have an anxiety attack.

Jean-Paul ran out of the water and came up to where I was seated.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he took a dry towel from his duffel bag, and draped it around my shoulders.

"Yeah, I think I just got a little anxious, that's all. It's been a while since I've been to the beach."

I lied a little, but I felt like I had to. I couldn't tell him that he was the reason I almost had an anxiety attack and not the beach or the ocean. I found myself falling too hard for this man and too fast. The last time I fell for a man I ended up having my heart broken into tiny pieces and, I found myself afraid to trust another man. I didn't want to have my heart shattered once again. After all, I was falling for a man that is not from here. He would be leaving in a couple months' time to go back to his home in France. I could not let myself get too close to him just for him to leave and I never get the chance to see him again.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I was unable to say any words. I was a hot mess of emotions.

Finally, I got the courage to look back over at Jean-Paul once again. My eyes got lost into his as I felt silent, warm tears escape my eyes.

He reached over with his thumbs and wiped the tears away, and then took hold of my hand in his.

He leaned over as his face became closer and closer until we were a mere few inches apart. My heart started beating even faster as he took my head into his hands and was about to place a kiss upon my lips. Some part of me wanted him to kiss me, but the other part of me said it wasn't the time.

"I can't," I whispered as I pulled away and stood up to put my sundress back on. I walked off of the beach and back to the car as fast as I could. After denying the man a kiss, there was definitely no way that I could look him in the face.

It just wasn't the right time for me to give my heart to another man. I only hoped he would understand that.

He gathered up his things and put his duffel bag into the backseat of my car. After he got into the passenger seat, I drove off, heading back to New York.

The entire car ride back was met in silence. There was no talking, we didn't turn any music on, the windows were rolled up with the air conditioner blasting, and we didn't even look into each other's directions.

Every now and then I would look over at him through my peripheral vision, and I could see the look of sadness that he wore on his face. I feared that he probably thought that I wasn't attracted to him. That was certainly not the case. I hoped that I could get a chance to tell him the reason why I feel the way I feel, if only I got a chance to see him again. But after what happened today and the mixed signals I gave him I doubt he would ever want to see me again.

We finally made it into New York as the sun was beginning to set. I looked over at Jean-Paul as he finally made eye contact with me.

"Could you drop me off at my hotel? If that isn't too much to ask?" He asked, finally speaking.

"Sure. I can do that."

I drove him to his hotel. He got out of the car and retrieved his duffel bag from the back seat. He shut the door and started to walk away before turning around and giving me a small, saddened smile. Then he waved goodbye, and disappeared into the hotel.

I kept my composure until I walked into my apartment. Then I fell on the couch as tears started flowing out of my eyes. My heart was already beginning to break all over again. I grabbed Jean-Paul's hand and he thought it was a hand-grabbing gesture you do when you like someone.

There was no denying that I liked him. I think I subconsciously grabbed his hand because I was starting to feel some kind of attraction to him. But my heart is still grieving over a man that I thought I would spend forever with. My heart needs time to heal.

I think I denied him that kiss because I was protecting my heart from getting broken again. But instead, it happened anyway.

I sat on the couch and cried until I thought I didn't have any more tears left to cry. Then I stood up and composed myself, before walking into the bathroom to wash off my makeup, and jump into the shower to wash away the sand from the sand fight I had with Jean-Paul at the beach.

I couldn't stop replaying the moments that led up to the kiss that almost happened. I was finally happy, and I could tell that he was happy too. But I had to ruin that over denying him one stupid kiss.

After getting out of the shower I blow-dried my hair before slipping into bed and wanting to escape the world for just a little while.