Chapter Nine

Elizabeth

I think this may be the longest elevator ride of my life. My blood jumps haphazardly through my veins with every ding of a new floor. I inhale deeply. I want the influx of oxygen to steady my pounding heart, but it only succeeds at forcing me to cough and choke on my nerves. An eternity passes before I reach my destination. The doors open and I step out trailing fear and doubt in my wake.

"I'm here to see Carly," I say to the unfamiliar guard at the penthouse door.

"And you are?" His voice is gruff and scratched around the edges.

"Elizabeth," I lick my suddenly dry lips. "Elizabeth Webber."

He knocks lightly before pushing the door open. He announces my name and there's an unbearable moment where I imagine her turning me away. I see the door closing in my face and this new guard with the gruff voice looking at me with pity because he saw it in her eyes. He saw that look that's been haunting me every time I close my own. The same one Carly gave me right before she walked out of my life.

"You can go ahead in," he says while he holds the door open.

It takes me a second to start moving because first, I have to remember how to breathe. I walk into the penthouse slowly, afraid of what I might see and terrified of what I might not.

Her profile is what she offers me as she stands at the bar pouring herself a drink. It has only been one day, but my eyes collide with every aspect of her body as if they were abused and she was their relief. The only sound in the room is our breath coming and going much too fast to offer either of us the steadiness we so desperately need.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice tries to be cold but the shaking hand that brings the glass to her lips gives her away.

"Look at me," I ask. My voice is so soft I'm surprised it carries itself across the short distance.

"You can't be here." The plea in her voice makes me step closer. I take the glass from her hand and place it down on the bar. My fingers are instantly warm where they meet hers. I'm standing close to her now. Close enough to see the freckles on her collarbone. Close enough to smell the spiked vanilla scent that is distinctly Carly. Close enough so that I think she can read my mind, but I speak anyway. It's a whisper that leaves my lips and brushes against her cheek.

"Please look at me," I ask again.

This time she does look. I lift my thumb to catch one of the tears that spill from her eyes. I rub my wet thumb across her bottom lip, tracing its fullness with measured tenderness. I lean in slowly, hoping that she doesn't pull away. Knowing that if she does, I won't have anything left.

We touch softly. Quietly. My tongue tastes the saltiness of her tears as it sketches a memory on her lips. She opens for me and I accept the invitation as if it was a torrential downpour and I stood alone in the desert. A whimper escapes the back of her throat. It's inebriated with desire and a prayer for forgiveness. I pull away deliberately. Our lips are separated by the promise I'm about to make.

"We're not over," I say thickly. These are the words that I need to stitch into her soul. I need her to know them as she knows the feel of my hands stroking her body and the beat of my heart in her chest. "We're not over," I say again.

Jason

I'm sitting in Kendall's office. She's late or I'm early, I don't really know. It's the first time I've been out of my apartment in days and nothing's changed; yet everything is different.

Kendall rushes into the office, a whirlwind of activity.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she says, dropping a stack full of papers onto her desk. In her haste some of them slip to the floor and I get up to help her. The first thing I pick up is a picture of Jacks. The second is a picture of Mac.

"Uh, what's this?" I ask, noticing that the papers are actually glossy photos of most of the men in Port Charles.

"Pictures," Kendall replies with a small smile. She sits behind her desk, satisfied with her answer.

"I can see that they are pictures," I sate evenly. "Why do you have them?"

"We're going to do some research."

"We as in you and your sister?" I ask, the twisting in my stomach already telling me I'm not going to like her answer.

"We as in you and me," she says, her smile wider now. "I'm new here and I need some help finding the most eligible bachelors in Port Charles. It's for the Deception Cosmetics charity event."

"No."

"Why not? You know who's crazy, who's rich, who we should totally stay away from. You'll be the perfect assistant and it shouldn't take too long."

"I can't," I say wishing she would just let it lie, but knowing enough about her to know that she won't.

"Why not?" She asks. "What else are you doing?"

Nothing. I'm not doing anything and if Kendall hadn't asked me to meet her that's probably what I'd still be doing.

"You're good," I say acknowledging her skill as I take a seat.

"You have know idea," she responds. And I believe her.