Part Three. Where It Ends.

We pack everything up and say our goodbyes and goodnights and head back to our rooms.

It's somewhere near two in the morning when my cell rings.

It's my friend, the newly married, stunningly gorgeous, glowing bride.

"Come down to our place," she says "we're all hanging out."

Now when a bride asks you to do something on her wedding night, you do it, but there was something fishy going on here. When we said goodbye, I heard her husband (how cool is it to call him that) say in the background "Victoria's coming back." and I couldn't figure out who he'd be saying that to.

It turns out a few people were hanging out at their place, mainly family, but a couple of close friends, including this guy.

A small part of me wonders if this is why I was told to get my behind there, but I'm pretty tired at this point and so I just sit and chat with everyone for a while.

I nudge this guy. "You're walking me home," I say, because it's dark and where they're staying and where this guy and I are staying it's a fair walk.

We leave pretty quickly because I'm exhausted and can't wait to shower and get out of the dress and into pj's and to sleep.

Getting back to our hotel was one of the night's highlights for me. I laughed the entire way back, conversation was easy and I really enjoyed his company.

I gave him a hug in the elevator and said goodnight, but when I stepped out, he followed me.

I didn't quite know what to do, but figured I'd roll with it.

I got changed and we headed to his room to check it out (not as cheesy as it sounds; this hotel had tiny rooms like I was in, and huge suites like he was in.)

We sat on his couch and chatted a bit about his job (this guy's brilliant) and why I was wearing Winnie the Pooh pj's, but I was kind of on edge.

Having no read at all on this guy in two days, and then finding myself in his hotel room, I had no idea what his intentions were.

I was stinky and sweaty and mother nature hadn't been on my side (if you know what I mean. . . ladies?) and I wanted to scrub off my makeup and have a shower. I was exhausted. Past the point of being able to make much of an effort. I was feeling as un-sexy as I've ever felt in the presence of a single guy. And we'd barely had a conversation.

Had I been more inebriated, or had I already showered and changed before heading out again, or had we spoken at all in the previous two days, or had my lips not been chapped by the super-strength lipstick the makeup gal had put on me, or had I been awake enough to function at all I might have been able to figure out a way to hang out and get to know him and maybe, most probably get a kiss or two.

But I couldn't. Didn't know if he was interested but shy, or just looking for an easy lay or what. Still, had no read on him. I was too tired to talk, too tired to think and I just wanted to go to bed. I couldn't figure out what was going on with him but it was somewhere in the shy/uneasy range.

Had I thought about it, had I had any sort of brainpower left, I would have asked him to get his guitar and play. It's what I found myself thinking the next night as I lay in bed unable to think, smiling every time I thought of the cute, funny things he did in the short time we had together. I really really wish I'd thought to ask him that you guys.

I wish I'd thought to tell him I needed to go shower and that I'd be back in 15 minutes to talk, but I didn't want to give him the impression I was going to sleep with him because I wasn't and I wasn't together enough to just flat out tell him that.

So I told him I had to go. Told him he was an interesting and intriguing person and that I'd see him in the morning. We hugged. I left.

Showered, de-makeup-ed, collapsed into bed, the clock reading 4am.

I saw him, very briefly, the next morning.

I'd hoped he'd come sit with me, but he sat with the guys and when they left he didn't come say goodbye, which I'd also hoped he would. Back to the status quo of us not interacting, so no biggie, but a little bit disappointing as I'd really enjoyed the walk back.

My friend sat down with me for breakfast and we talked about how lovely everything was and how happy I was for her.

"Cary told me 'Victoria and I have chemistry'." she said, not noticing my confused look. "But he only told me after the ceremony."

After the ceremony? After he spoke to me for the first time in two days and asked me to dance? Or did I miss something. Was he watching me too and I just didn't notice? Had he seen me stealing glances at him too? Did he like the feel of my arm around his waist during the pictures? When had he figured this out?

I just looked at her, a strange, surprised look on my face. "Oh boy, " I said, "do I have a story for you."

I can't wait for her to get back so we can talk about it all and I can get her and her husband's opinion. Because, man am I confused.

I can't stop thinking about him and I really want to see him again. To actually talk to him and hang out and get to know him and maybe get the kiss I should have, could have gotten that night.

But he doesn't live here, and I promised myself I wouldn't do a long distance relationship again. I mean, not that that's even in the cards or would be, but still, I logically know that I shouldn't even be entertaining the idea.

Part of me really really hopes that he was interested. Is interested. And that he wants to reconnect and spend time together. And part of me just hopes that my attraction to him will fade as I get further away from the wedding and that I'll just move on and it'll be a happy memory and a good story.

I guess time will tell.