Maybe this Time…

Chapter 4: Thursday

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Light R

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: Thanks for the lovely comments.

Read? Please review.

H: Thanks for your patience with all those "Either/Or" emails and messages.

Summary: Maybe this time…Change is inescapable. One week. Seven days. A relationship comes together.

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"Last night they agreed to try. Today is the aftermath of that decision…"
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Thursday: 7:20 A.M.
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"Hello?"

He shifts his body under the covers. "Hey."

She smiles. His voice is deep and scratchy and she closes her eyes imagining him lounging in bed, calling her first thing in the morning. "You're up early."

"Yeah." He rubs his face. "Way too early."

"Why not sleep in?"

"Wanted to catch you before you left for work."

She grins madly and bites the inside of her cheek. Pausing, she picks up a makeup brush and dabs some foundation on the side of her nose. "That you did."

He smiles and closes his eyes. Concentrating on just the sound of her voice, he turns his head to the side of his pillow. "Been thinking about you."

She stops. "Yeah? What about?"

He idly scratches his abdomen. "Last night."

"That was nice." When they had arrived at her apartment, he got out of the cab and stood at the open door to say goodnight to her. She caught him by surprise by pressing her body into his. The kiss lasted a good two minutes until she pulled back with a grin. He offered her a lopsided smile of his own and watched her until she entered the building safely.

"Yeah." His mind drifts off momentarily into a daydream about the kiss. "You free tonight?"

"Sure."

"Have dinner with me?"

She nods and sees her own happy reflection in the mirror. "Okay."

"Pick you up around eight?"

"Sounds good."

"See you then."

Click.

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Thursday: 8:04 P.M.
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He rings her apartment, #3B.

"Yes?"

"Hey, it's me."

Buzz.

Reaching her door, he knocks. She opens with a nervous smile. "Come in."

"Nice place."

She looks around. "It's small, I know. But I love it. It gets a lot of light and it's pretty close to work. Besides, if it were any bigger I don't know how I'd keep it clean."

He swivels around with his hands in the pockets of his pants, examining her apartment. "It's very…you."

She pauses. "You think?"

He shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe it's who I think you are." He says it so offhandedly that it even surprises him.

"And just who do you think I am?" She doesn't dare look up at him. Eyes are glued to her shoes.

He turns but is still about two feet a way from her. "I don't know." He honestly replies. Bending his knees, he hopes to catch her eyes but fails. "Do you know?"

"I'm certainly not the Rory you met when you were a kid."

Nodding, he straightens his spine. "Good." He clicks his tongue. "I always thought you were too uptight back then anyways." He jokes and offers her a wink.

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up." Picking up her purse, she slides the strap over her shoulder. "Where are we going?"

"Dinner."

She rolls her eyes at his predictability. "Yeah, I figured." She flicks off the light and holds the door open for him.

He smiles and walks over to her. Brushing past her, he casually dips down for a quick kiss on her lips. "Hm. Been wanting to do that all day." With a smirk, he keeps walking out the door and doesn't stop until he approaches the elevator. Tapping the down button, he doesn't glance back at her.

She's caught off guard and for a moment, forgets that she was digging in her purse for her keys. Why did he do things like that? It unnerved her and made her feel giddy and scared. Locking the door quickly, she catches up to him as he waits for her to step onto the elevator. "What are we eating?"

He turns. "Japanese."

"I didn't know you liked Japanese food."

"I've broadened my horizons."

She laughs. "Next thing you'll be telling me you don't eat meat anymore."

He drops his head and grins.

Shaking her head, she can't believe it. "No, you're not serious are you?"

Sheepish, he explains. "Not really red meat. Not too much chicken either. I eat more fish than anything else."

"Suddenly caring about the animals?"

He chuckles. "No. I ran into some unseen allergic reactions a couple of years ago. And I had to cut meat out of my diet to see what exactly I was allergic to." He shrugs. "I've just kinda left it out of my life now."

"Hm."

The elevator dings and he lets her step out first.

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Thursday: 8:39 P.M.
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"So when he offered me the job, I took it."

He smiles at her across the table.

"And what about you? You seem to have found your niche with writing."

"What else am I going to do?" He fiddles around with the chopsticks. "The first one was really a fluke. Like I said, I met the guys and it just happened. After that…it kinda snowballed. The first book didn't do well. At all." He chuckles dryly. "But the second one was a little better. Got some bookstores to stock it. But writing's just what I know. There's nothing else for me."

She makes a face at his self-deprecation. "Is there something else you want to do?"

His head tilts. "What else is there? I write. It's what I do. I have a GED but no real degree. Took some courses at a local college, but it got in the way of writing, so I stopped."

"Well, you don't need a degree. I mean," she takes a sip of her sake, "Your writing certainly speaks for itself. It's good, Jess."

He smiles. "It is what it is."

That catches her attention. A whisper of words spoken before. A lingering ghost of an expression that haunted her for a time. But she doesn't mention it. "So, you live alone?"

"Yeah. I like it better that way." Taking a bite, his mouth is full but continues to talk. "Roomed with the guys at the publishing house for a couple years back in Philly after Truncheon. That was okay. No privacy but they were pretty low-key. When I moved back here, I didn't want a roommate. Even if that meant I could only afford a smaller apartment."

She moves her legs under the table and it catches his foot. She doesn't move and he leaves his shoe next to hers. She smiles nervously. "I'm a little out of practice." She admits.

"What with?"

Shy, she doesn't meet his eyes. "You know, this stuff." She bumps her calf against his.

He lifts an eyebrow in confusion. "Still don't get it."

Blowing out a breath, she's frustrated with her lack of courage. "This. Dating. Sex."

"You're certainly more outspoken these days, aren't you?"

Bluntly, "Don't like it?"

"Didn't say that. It's just different." Under the table he reaches out to rest his warm palm on her bare knee. Pushing the hem of her dress up just an inch, he strokes the skin.

Her eyes drift shut. "Now that is definitely you hitting on me."

He smirks. "Very observant."

"And you? Are you…well practiced?"

There's a hint of that old Rory right there and it makes him smile hearing her hesitation. "Not as much as you might think."

"And how much do I think?"

Scooting his chair closer to the table, he slips his hand just a little higher up, but he's barely past the kneecap. "You think I do this often. Perhaps, a couple times a week. At least once on the weekends. You think I practice a lot more."

She licks her lips.

He leans forward to whisper. "But I don't."

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Thursday: 11:16 P.M.
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He presses her up against the front door of her apartment. She sighs against his lips and shifts her lower body to match his hips. He's hard and she can distinctly feel him even through the material of his black slacks and she's glad she's chosen a lighter dress. The flimsy fabric lets her feel him up against the length of her body and she grips his waist to hold on. Brazenly, she parts her legs and moves her hips. She feels him bend his knees to make use of her stance and to capture her lips again.

Hot and wet, his tongue and the feeling of him is all she can think about. Tipsy on the alcohol they had with dinner, she feels flushed. Her senses are buzzing and emotions are standing at the surface at full attention. She feels him everywhere. Her lips, neck, breasts, sex…everywhere. He's nipping at her upper lip and she buries her hands into his hair and slips cool fingers down the back of his neck. He has lots of baby hairs by the base of his skull where his haircut tapers off, just like she remembered. But tonight, everything feels new. Synapses are firing like crazy and they both feel like this moment is swallow them whole.

His hands are busy, idly stroking the bare skin of her neck, running up and down the side of her body, and brushing the outside curve of her breasts. His mind is foggy. Hazy. He feels nothing but this moment. Thinks of nothing but her. In the back of his mind he realizes that this is a woman he knows, but her body is entirely foreign to him. Every moan is new and every crevice of her body is uncharted territory to him. He has not touched her like this before and their adolescent caresses never pushed the limits like this. Even if they once thought about sex, they never dreamed of desire like this.

She leans back against the door for support, knowing that they shouldn't be doing this out in the open. But she can't find the words to protest. She can only part her lips hoping to catch her breath. He's kissing her neck and his hands cup her jaw, moving her hair out of the way as he focuses his attention on her. He has too much control and she snaps out of the moment to turn the tables. Pulling his head back up, she suddenly turns their bodies and his back thumps against the door instead. Leaning all of her weight against him, she presses hard and grinds. Delicious weight combined with a highly anticipated release makes him growl.

He feels the heart of her desire pressed up against his own. Swearing softly under his breath, he thinks that he has never felt like this before in his life. He knows what his hunger normally feels like, and it's nothing like this. She's making him delirious with want, like he can't feel his extremities, but at the same time the walls of her hallway seem like they're closing in on them. Nothing he's ever dreamt of even compares to this. His eyes clench and sparks go off behind closed lids as he feels her trace his length through his pants. Hands fumble to touch her, but he grips her hair and shoulders instead. She stops her fingers and goes back to kiss him again. Turning them around once more, she leans against the door while he concentrates on the kiss.

Mouths are hot, oh-so hot, and the kiss is no longer gentle. Teeth clink and tongues stroke against one another. Her hands have un-tucked his shirt from his slacks and she traces a muscle up the path of his stomach. His belly tightens and hands travel down her backside to pull her closer. This moment's as much about release as it is about tension and she can feel her own arousal matching his. She parts her legs just a fraction more and feels him slip a leg between her again, but this time he presses firmly against her. She knows she shouldn't but she can't help but rub against him. He wants to fuck all rationality and take her here and now, but knows they both won't let it get so far.

A simple chime down the hall signals an approaching elevator and they abruptly pull away from each other. He keeps her close by holding onto her elbows and she rests her forehead on his sternum. She giggles.

He sighs and runs a shaking hand through his hair. "Goodnight, Rory." He takes a step.

She looks up with inquisitive eyes but doesn't voice her concern. She nods and understands. One step at a time. This has been enough for tonight. "Goodnight." Watching him saunter down the hallway, she doesn't move as she sees him gently press the down button for the elevator. The slight tremor in his hand doesn't escape her attention and it makes her giddy thinking that she still has that kind of effect on him. He doesn't look back but she knows he's dying to sneak a peek. He quietly steps into the elevator with a quick shuffle of his feet and an awkward, but gentle, shift of his lower body. She smiles broadly and enters her apartment.

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Thursday: 11:29 P.M.
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