This is the seventh and final chapter. I really did love writing this story. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Thank you.
He didn't know what to do. He was stuck in that spot, looking at her. Did she look guilty? He couldn't tell. He took a deep breath, cracked his neck and walked toward her.
"Hey," she said, moving to let him into the apartment.
"Hey," he echoed. When they were both in the apartment, he turned to look at her leaning against the door watching him. "Did I leave my phone here this morning?"
"Yeah," she said, walking around him to the coffee table. He remained where he was. He wasn't about to get comfortable after seeing Logan. "Luke called."
"I'll call him back," he said as Rory walked back to him, handing over the phone. "So... you and Logan?"
"No," she answered quickly, shaking her head hard. "Absolutely not. We're just friends. Just like-"
"You and me?" He asked and he saw her face fall. He put his hands back in his pockets and continued watching her, hoping she'd say something. They both took a deep breath at the same time.
"No," she said quietly and he just kept watching her. He wouldn't let himself react. "Nothing like that. I don't see him often. We catch up once a year and talk about his family, his wife and kid. You're my best friend. In the short time you and I have been friends, you've become my best friend."
"You're the only person I know who actually stays friends with their exes," he said and she shrugged.
They stood in silence, looking at each other. Why had he let this drag on as long as it did? He didn't want to be friends with her, but he didn't want to lose her, either. Why couldn't she just be in love with him? Why was it never that easy? He knew that there was no way she could have a boyfriend; not with all of the time she'd been spending with him. If she felt the same way, she would have said something by now.
"I should go, I guess," he said and she shook her head.
"You don't have to," she told him. He looked at her, closely this time, and she looked sad. She looked like she wanted him to stay, but he didn't know why.
"Yeah… I don't really want to be here when Dean shows up," he said, and then smiled. She smiled back and his heart stopped. His heart stopped every time she smiled at him.
"Dean won't be here until next weekend," she joked and Jess cringed.
"Don't even joke about that one," he said, walking into the living room to sit on the couch. She stood and folded her laundry at the coffee table. "Hey, it's clean," he said when she took out his shirt.
"Oh, yeah," she said, tossing it to him with an easy smile. "I had to do a pretty thorough pre-clean, but the wine's all gone."
"Thanks," he said, folding it on the couch next to him.
She continued to fold and he continued to watch her. Why was he so compelled to watch her? He had no choice in the matter; he couldn't turn away. He wouldn't be able to carry on this way much longer. He was going to have to tell her how he felt, even if that meant losing her completely. He had promised himself and Matthew that once it got to be too much, he'd do something about it. It was getting closer and closer to being too much for him. And after waking up that morning with her on top of him, it had made everything that much worse.
It was starting to get awkward between them. They had been doing so well avoiding all awkwardness, which basically meant he had not touched her once. Not until the night before, that is. First with her feet in his lap and then with his arm around her back. She hadn't touched him either, but last night she seemed pretty comfortable in his arms and even this morning. Did she have feelings for him? That was the one part about her he couldn't read.
She finished folding her laundry and put them neatly into the basket to carry to her room.
"I'm just going to put these away," she told him and he nodded, watching her walk away.
"Damn it," he whispered to himself. He ran his hands over his face and got up to pace behind the couch. "Damn it."
"What's wrong with you?" Paris asked, as she walked down the hall toward him. He looked up, surprised.
"How long have you been here?" He asked, stopping in the middle of the room.
"I got home a couple of hours ago," she said, crossing her arms against her chest. "I just woke up."
"Sorry we woke you up," he said, letting out a breath.
"You didn't," she told him and he nodded before sitting on the couch. She sat on the opposite end and he could feel her looking at him.
"What?" He asked, turning to face her.
"You just need to tell her how you feel," Paris said and his breath caught in his throat. "I'm not blind. She is, but I'm not."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Paris," he said after his breathing returned to normal.
"No, of course not," she said, getting up to walk to the kitchen. "I've never seen the two of you act like this before. Oh, wait... Yes I have."
He let her walk away without another word. The two of them? Were they blind to each other? What was Paris talking about?
"Hey, do you want to go get lunch?" Rory asked as she walked back to the living room. He looked at her and she stopped. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to get lunch," he said and she nodded. "We need to talk."
"Okay..." she said and he stood up and walked to her room. He heard her follow him and closed the door behind her. "Why do we have to talk in here?"
"Uh, Paris is in the kitchen," he said and she nodded. "It's just, I don't want her to chime in."
"Okay," she said again and she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. He could tell she was nervous. Maybe she knew something big was about to come out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, but remained standing a good distance from her.
"I can't do this anymore," he said simply, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. "I can't-"
"Jess," she interrupted and he shook his head to stop her.
"No, I can't do this anymore," he said again. "I can't be your friend. I'm really happy that we have been friends, but I can't be your friend anymore. It's not fair to me; you know how I feel and I can't do it."
"How do you feel?" Rory asked, enunciating each word. It surprised him, but he looked at her again and she had a hard look on her face. "You haven't told me how you feel in over two years."
"Nothing's changed, Rory," he said. "And you don't have a boyfriend. There's no way you could with all the time we've been spending together. So, you clearly don't feel the same way about me or you would have said something a month ago."
"You didn't say anything until just now!" She yelled. He watched as she stood up in front of him. "It's just as much your fault, Jess. You haven't said a word."
"I like being your friend," he explained. "I thought I couldn't lose you. But I have to if you don't feel the same way about me. I can't just be your friend. Being your friend is torture. I'm torturing myself every single day. This morning, when I woke up, I felt so happy for about twenty seconds, and then I remembered that you're just my friend."
"I've liked being your friend, Jess. I like having you in my life. You fit in my world so nicely. But don't you dare act like we're not together because of me," she said and she poked him sharply in the chest. "It has always been our own responsibilities, remember? If you had feelings for me, you should have told me. And I should have told you. It's both our faults, not just mine."
"You should have told me?" Jess asked, swallowing hard, and stepping closer to her. "You should have told me what, Rory?"
"Tell me how you feel, Jess," she said, ignoring his question. "Tell me right now how you feel about me. You haven't said anything real, just that you can't be my friend. So, Jess, why is it that you can't be my friend anymore?"
He wasn't pleased with her tone, but he owed her a response. She sounded angry and he didn't think she had the right to be. They were both to blame, she just said it. He looked down at her, and when he finally spoke there was a certain kind of annoyance in his voice.
"I love you, Rory," he said finally and she nodded, looking down. "There, I said it. I love you, and that hasn't changed in all the time I've known you. Not even when you drive me insane. Now, Rory, what should you have told me?"
He watched as she looked up at him again. She was taking deep breaths when she stepped toward him. He continued to watch her as she watched him.
"What should you have told me?" He asked again and she nodded. "Believe me; answering the question is easier than thinking about it. Just answer me, Rory."
"Fine," she yelled, letting out her last deep breath. "I love you, Jess. Oh my god, there it is. All Right? I love you and you love me and now I'm quoting Barney and I can't breathe. I cannot breathe. " She emphasized this by taking another deep breath and letting out slowly. "I kissed you when I was with Dean. I kissed you when I was with Logan. But- but when I was with you, Jess, there was never anybody else I even thought about kissing. I only wanted you. And it always comes back to you. And you're so infuriating sometimes, and despite that, I still love you. Because I am an idiot. We are idiots."
He let out a breath as she said it all. He listened to every word and took the few hits on his chest toward the end of her speech. She fell into his chest and hugged him around his waist. He took another deep breath and held her to him. They stood that way for what felt like hours, but were really just minutes.
"Now what?" He asked, letting out a deep laugh. She looked up at him and kissed him softly on the lips. When she pulled away he rested her forehead against hers and held her face between his hands. "This is it. I still believe everything I told you two and a half years ago. This is it for me. I'm done looking. You're it for me."
She nodded in his embrace and let him kiss her slowly and passionately all the way to the bed.