Because
She should stay away from him, because...because when she was seventeen, and in a happy, committed relationship, he had captured her interested, quickened her pulse, shot her a smile that haunted her for reasons she didn't understand.
Because he had always been there, tempting her, intriguing her, making her slowly fall for him, while she was supposed to be in love with someone else, making her reckless, ruthless, trying to keep the stable comfort of Dean, and his love, while enjoying the exciting rapture that was Jess.
Because when they were finally together, he had been hot and cold – no, fire and ice – full of passion and fun and surprising affection, but sometimes so cold and distant and guarded, confusing her and infuriating her even as he addicted her.
Because he had left without a word, and while now, as an adult with perspective, she understood he was a messed up kid who truly believed he could count on no one, and had nothing to offer her, and had so many issues he was half-convinced she was going to leave him any minute, at the time he had broken her heart.
Because he had come back, just when she had nearly put him out of her head, and told he loved her, putting himself firmly back into her thoughts, taunting her with everything that could have been, but didn't call, didn't write, didn't seem to want anything from her.
Because he had asked her run away with him, so angry, so Jess, so tempting, and she had pictured it, and that scared her – he scared her, the idea of going back to that confusing, fire-and-ice relationship scared her, because she couldn't face that kind of heartbreak again, not when Dean, solid, dependable Dean, who had never hurt her and never confused her, was right there offering her a safety net that wasn't hers to take.
Because he had come to her, when her life was a wreck, shown her his book, shown her...the man that she had always suspected the boy could become, shown her she hadn't been stupid to think highly of him, to love him, and had yelled at her, somehow making it impossible to ignore the fact that she was completely on the wrong path, that she had made a mistake, and desperately needed to sort her life out.
Because she had gone to him, when they should have both been long over each other, and found that simmering attraction still there, found that when he kissed her, she still didn't want him to ever stop, but that she didn't love him anymore, that however addictive he was, however tempting he was, she was in love with someone else and needed to see it through.
Because she had hurt him, had seen it on his face, but later, much later when he sent her a tentative email, telling her he had stumbled across the online magazine she was writing for, congratulating her, she had asked about his life, and he had told her all about the girl he was in love with, about how she was pregnant, which had been a surprising accident, but was now a thrilling joy, and she had felt a little sadness at the loss of the possibility.
Because he had stopped emailing for over a month, and she had missed his contact, his words, his voice playing in her head, and when he had, finally, gotten in touch, he had told her briefly that they had lost the baby, and his relationship had crumbled, and there had been so much pain and wistfulness that, eventually, he had gradually poured his heart out, talking to her more than he ever had, finally sharing his past, his present, his hopes for his future, allowing her to share her dreams and her fears and her regrets, surprising her when he understood, even anticipated what she was thinking and feeling, making her think that maybe, he had been right all that time ago when he had told her he knew her better than anyone else, and despite the fact that they were simply words on a screen to each other, they had become closer than they had ever been, making her wonder if staying away from him had been a mistake.
Because now that they were finally back in the same place, at the same time, both unattached, they were getting to know each other all over again, and she had found herself sitting at the diner with him every night for a week, talking long past closing time, even though she was supposed to be helping her mother with the last minute wedding preparations, and he seemed to be touching her, all the time – her hand, her arm, brushing her hair away from her face – and it made her tingle.
Because they had both given each other more chances before, and both made mistakes, seemingly unable to make things work together, but somehow kept being drawn back to one another, never fully letting go, and she was sure it couldn't be healthy.
Because he was so different to the reckless, infuriating boy who had made her fall in love with him, but in some ways, was exactly the same, and she knew she was falling all over again, not just for the echoes of who he had been, but for this version, the adult, the calmer, steadier man, and she was afraid that this time, she was falling much harder.
Because he was leaning towards her, slowly, hesitantly, his hands warm and firm on her waist, his eyes on hers, and she knew that she was staring intently back at him, holding her breath, waiting for his lips to collide with her, knew that she wouldn't back away, knew that this time, when he kissed her, there was no going back, and somehow, it was all she wanted in the world.
And she didn't back away, couldn't back away, because...from the very moment he had stepped into her world, he had been like a magnet, snapping her towards him, beyond her control.
Because at seventeen she had spent far too long trying to tell herself she didn't want him, didn't like him, even though the very thought of him made her smile, every conversation made her warm.
Because he had been interesting conversation and conspiratorial jokes and hot, slow kisses, wanting her in a way no one else ever had (and making her want him, too, in a way she hadn't known she could), understanding her in a way no one else ever would, showing her glimpses of an amazing boy who could be everything she had ever wanted, if only he could shed the attitude.
Because he had been such a screwed up kid that he honestly hadn't understood how deeply she felt for him, hadn't believed anyone ever could, and she knew now that he really thought he was doing her a favour by walking away, and he had suffered for it too.
Because when he told her loved her, he had meant it, and she hadn't realised at the time how much it had taken for him to say the words aloud.
Because he would have run away with her, would have done his best to make a life for them, but while he, now, years later, admitted it had been a stupid idea from a desperate boy, she had wondered, on and off, for a long while, what their life would have been like if she had taken that chance and put her faith in him one more time.
Because she had spent months thinking she could fix him, save him, only for him to save her, later, by yelling at her and forcing her to see the truth...and seeing him again had been...had been something strange and special.
Because he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, and wanted to believe that this time, it would all be okay...and he hadn't hated her for it.
Because his words on a screen had made her heart jump, reminding her, right when she was doubting her choices and her path, who she had been, and why she was on that bus, reminding her of the unwavering belief in her he'd held over the years.
Because when they'd reconnected, really reconnected, as adults, she had felt closer to him than she had ever felt to any man before.
Because she sits at the counter night after night, with an empty cup, looking into his eyes and talking about nothing, just because she needs to be near him.
Because there had always, always, been something between them, from the very moment he had stepped into her room.
Because he was everything she had ever wanted, needed, consciously and unconsciously, and it felt like they were finally the people they needed to be to make it work.
Because he was leaning forward too slowly, and she wanted him to pull her close, to kiss her, with every fibre of her body.
She didn't back away, because she didn't want to. When their mouths finally collided, she clung to him, and it felt like coming home.
This time...this time it was right, they were right, and everything was perfect.
This time, it was for good.