It was the day before Rory was leaving for Washington.

Jess had never known anyone who made a schedule for packing, but Rory never ceased to amaze him with how much structure she had to her life. At first he wondered if it was more of her whole picture perfect lifestyle, but when she excitedly talked about accomplishing things off her list as the trip grew closer, he realized some parts of her organized personality were solely for her. That relieved him, knowing she did some things for herself and not just because she was supposed to.

It was the first time alone they would be spending together since the play and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. He certainly didn't know how she felt about it. They hadn't discussed it beyond both rolling their eyes when Paris wiggled her brows at them when they received their A. He was perfectly fine not bringing it up to Rory, but the constant dread of wondering if she was going to at some point was driving him a bit crazy.

After the blow up from Dean, Jess and Rory had to end their final week of after school walks to the parking lot. Every day right as Rory appeared in the courtyard, Dean was waiting by the main gate of the school. She would walk up to him with a smile, give him a kiss, and they would drive off. Jess would witness it from a far, silently hating the feeling building in his chest. It wasn't like he had made some confession to Rory or kissed her on his own terms – much as he wanted to. There wasn't – on the surface anyway - any reason for her boyfriend to be so angst the friendship.

But finally the day arrive, the day Jess had Rory all to himself. He met her at the bus stop, grinning wide and not even bothering to hide it. The fact she was using her last day in Connecticut to spend with him over anyone else was something he definitely hadn't let go unnoticed. It meant something, to some extent.

She bounded off the bus with a grin to match his. "Our clandestine adventure begins!" she cheered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

He hadn't expected the contact and felt his heart beating wildly as he moved to hug her back. She was already out of his reach before he could, and he quickly dropped his arms back to his sides. He motioned for her to follow him and they began walking. The weather had been beautiful, so he had wanted to walk to pick her up rather than drive. He wasn't much for driving anyway if he could help it.

"Clandestine, huh?" he smirked, as the bus stop grew further and further behind them. "What did you end up telling the jealous lover?"

She shifted her eyes a bit. "I said I had things to do and I'd be running around doing last minute things before I leave. I didn't like having to half-lie to him, but you're my friend and I wanted to see you."

"Well I am I thing you could do, so I suppose you didn't lie," he said huskily, then laughed as she blushed furiously and gave him a light swat. He couldn't help himself. He was in too good of a mood and shamelessly had to see her get shy on him.

"Oh, cut it out!" She jabbed a finger at his chest. "You say things like that on purpose to make me get embarrassed!"

He grinned. She's on to me. "That I do. It's payback."

She frowned, growing confused. "Payback? For what?"

He caught himself, realizing he had been starting to admit she made him redden and feel embarrassed every time she was near; that he loved making her blush knowing he was causing it. Feeling a flush of his own start to rise, he thought up something to say but couldn't. Luckily, her phone buzzed with a text and she pull it out to read it.

They walked in silence for a moment as she read, gave a quiet groan, and replied to the message before sticking her phone deep into her bag instead of back in her pocket. "So," she said, turning her focus back on him, "What are we going to do for our big cloak and dagger day?"

He turned to her, eyes flashing mischievously. "I want to show you a place. We're almost there."

When they stopped in front of the yellow house, he felt his breath catch. His expression darkened as he stared at it, trying to adjust to the fact he was acknowledging it head on. Rory watched him silently, uncertainty in her eyes.

Voiding himself of the dark thoughts, he faced her with a sad grin. "Sorry. It's kind of hard to be here."

The pieces clicked in her head. "It's Nathan's house," she said quietly, understanding.

"Yeah." He took in a deep breath, looking back to the front door. "Let's go in."

"Go in?" she frowned. "You have a key?"

Pulling out his keyring, he picked the right one and flashed it at her, the sun glinting off the metal, before he walked hastily up to the door. Rory stumbled after him, still at a loss.

"You still have a key? Why? Are we allowed to be doing this?" she was a flurry of questions. They were on the porch in front of the door now. She inhaled sharply. "Jess, I know I said clandestine and all thing, but I wasn't thinking we were breaking and entering today."

He unlocked the door, letting it swing itself open, and didn't move for a second. He stared into the house for a long moment before taking a step inside. "We're aren't breaking and entering," he said. "I own it."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You own it?"

"Yeah."

He spun around to face her, as he was now just inside the house, hovering in the doorway and she was still firmly on the porch giving him a confused face. He leaned against the door frame as he gathered his thoughts, figuring out how to explain it so she would stop giving him such a wary look.

"I told you Nathan didn't have kids, right?" he started, fumbling to put the keys back into his pocket. "Well, he left me this place. To fix up and sell or…" He trailed off, hesitant. "Or if Liz's place got repossessed and I didn't have a place to go. Or if Liz was home and I needed a place to go."

The confusion started to lift from her face, but not by much. "Liz? Your mom I'm assuming."

He nodded. "I haven't been in here since he died. I didn't even know it was mine until some lawyer guy showed up." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced over at her shyly. "Just kind of felt like showing you. It's whatever."

It wasn't 'whatever'. He really wanted to share this with her. Sharing about himself with words wasn't easy and made him feel too weak and exposed. Sharing with her by showing felt more personal and was a kind of vulnerability he was okay with.

She smiled. "Okay. Show me."

He led her around, telling stories about the life that had been lived in that house. He showed her the master bedroom and explained Nathan had kept all his books in it and slept in the smallest room in the house; how there had been a very obscure way about how the books were organized in a series of shelves and drawers and boxes. Rory seemed to enjoy that part most, mentioning she herself had given up all her drawer space in favor of space for books.

Jess started to feel happy about being in Nathan's house again. He had been afraid being in it alone would be too hard. The decision to bring Rory made him feel more confident about going in and so far he wasn't regretting his choice.

"I'm glad you brought me there," she said after they left and started heading for the next spot on the agenda. She nudged into him lightheartedly. "I know it's probably hard, but it sounds like he really was there for you."

"He was," Jess grinned. "He was just some old guy who saw a lonely kid and gave him a book. Probably had no idea he'd end up pretty much adopting me."

Rory grew serious. "Did he ever try to? Adopt you, that is. You said you knew him since you were seven."

He was puzzled she would ask that. "I don't think so," he frowned, shaking his head. "It's not like I was a family member's kid or anything. I was just some boy he could share books with."

She didn't seem to agree. "I bet he wanted to. Sounds like you meant a lot to him too."

He shrugged, starting to feel uncomfortable. "Maybe."

He had never given much thought to Nathan being around once it became a habit. Jess still had his freedom to do as he pleased, so it never once felt like Nathan was intending to be a parental figure. The thought started to bother him, so he quickened their pace to their destination.

They end up at the bridge and stayed to read under the warm sunlight. He just wanted to show it to her at first and tell her it was kind of an escape place for him, but she ended up loving the calmness as much as he did so they grabbed a blanket and spread out, settling down to read side by side. She pulled out a book of poetry from her bag and he looked at her stunned as he saw the author's name. As she pulled open to the section she left off at, Rory caught his wild stare and frowned.

"What?"

"Neruda, huh?" he smirked. "Isn't some of that a bit racy for your blushing cheeks? I don't want to glance up from Hemingway every now and then seeing you looking all sun burnt."

She flustered and gave him an irritated scowl. "I thought you didn't like poetry, so how would you know what his poetry is like?"

Jess grabbed the book from her and flipped to a poem he recognized. "I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body," he recited slowly in a gruff voice. He cocked an eyebrow at her with a wicked grin. "I can get behind poetry like that."

"Well, so can I," she declared, snatching her book back.

She was still incredibly red, almost purple as she tried to cover her face with the book – mostly to block her view of him smirking at her. Chuckling to himself, Jess pulled out his own book from his back pocket and they both grew lost in literature as the day moved forward, the sound of the wind in the trees and birds singing as their soundtrack.

He zoned out of his book at one point, thoughts getting lost in a million other things. It was his last bit of time with her for a long time – maybe they should get up and do something a bit more personal before she headed home for the night. The sun was lowering anyway, so they would be forced to leave within thirty minutes as it was. Growing restless, he started to lower his book to ask Rory if she wanted to go eat somewhere, already knowing the answer would be a resounding 'yes'. That was went he noticed she wasn't laying where he last saw her.

It had been so gradual, so delicate, he hadn't felt it happen, but Rory was resting her head on the lower half of his stomach, her long soft hair spread across his dark shirt and part of the blanket underneath them. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her reading, the sun catching in her hair, bringing out all those hues he had come to admire.

He didn't want to move. This felt so intimate and right, but if he moved she would be startled out of her reading, realize how she was being cushioned by his body, and become embarrassed in a way he didn't want. They might never have a moment like this again; it made him want to reach out and cup her face, bringing her closer and take advantage of this proximity. He had watched her mouth for half a year now – watched it as she laughed, as she carefully examined text while silently mouthing the words to herself, as she debated with him over music and literature. All the watching made him only want to kiss her more, to see if they had some kind of physical connection to rival their mental one.

"Jess?"

Her soft voice pulled his eyes away from her mouth and he noticed she was watching him watch her. She had leaned up off of his stomach but was still seated somewhat closely to him, resting on one elbow. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and made a big show of stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Anything to distract from the awkwardness. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked at the sky above them, eager to look anywhere but at her until the heat left his face. When he felt brave enough that she must have moved back to her book, he gave a quick peak, only to find she had abandoned her book beside his.

His watched in a daze, propped up on his elbows, as she stared at the two inch strip of stomach that was now bare from when he had stretched. The curve of his hip bone was out, a raised hill beside the smooth flat skin beside it. Why this had her attention was beyond him. She and Dean had been together awhile. Surely they'd done something enough to see more of his skin than others saw every day. She at least had to have seen him with him shirt off.

But her eyes were wide and curious as they took in the exposed flesh. He wondered if she was thinking about the line he had read to her, noticing the glow casting over both of them from the setting sun. To his surprise, she timidly reached out almost absentmindedly and slowly moved her left hand over to the skin. Her fingers gingerly found contact as she stroked a soft, very faint, line on the crevice of his hip. Instinctively, he held his breath. The feeling of her touch somewhere so sensitive was galvanizing. He swallowed, suddenly finding his throat dry as she continued tracing faint patterns on his stomach. Uncontrollably, his jeans tightened.

Shit. She was sure to have felt it. Her forearm was resting right across the fly of his jeans while she traced. The movement shifted her forearm upward slightly and her eyes promptly moved to meet his. Realization that she was turning him on appeared on her face and a seductive smile crept over her mouth. She kept her fingers where they were, still drawing on his skin. A bit more pressure in the touch suddenly went at the crevice and he found himself letting out a frustrated groan at the unanticipated force. He shot her a beseeching look.

Understanding, Rory began to crawl steadily up his body, hovering just inches above him. Her eyes were different. She seemed to still be in an absentminded curiosity, but there was a growing hunger there as well. He heart quickened. She's enjoying this.

He had no idea what was going to happen once she reached his face. The thousands of times he had pictured getting to kiss her for real, to touch her without holding himself back, it had never been a situation like this one. Now that it was happening, it was everything he had wished for and was already disregarding previous imagery.

His own hand came up, waiting for her to get close enough. Rory's face reached his, and her quick breaths tickled at his mouth. His fingers caressed along her jaw, cupping around her face naturally. Jess didn't know what she was reading in his expression but her smile deepened, her eyes softening.

Her tongue peeked out a tiny bit and ran over her mouth to wet it, right as her phone chimed from a few feet away. Suddenly pulled back into reality, her eyes widened and she blinked several times as she got a hold of herself. She flitted her eyes, taking in the position she was in and reddened, getting to her feet to answer her phone.

This feels familiar, Jess groaned as he felt the bulge in his pants tighten in frustration. He leaned over to dip his hands in the water, splashing his face a few times to calm himself. It was the closest to a cold shower he was going to get.

Rory was frantically shoving her things into her bag. "That was Dean," she sputtered. "He wants to see me for dinner. I should go now. It'll be easier if I just go now."

He watched her grab her books in a whirlwind. Their day together couldn't end like this. The awkwardness needed to be broken. "You still going to write me while you're gone?" he asked, getting up.

She was distracted still, mind clearly spinning. "I could."

He blinked. "You could."

"I will," she said, more sure, as the last of her things were packed.

She quickly started to leave the bridge, but he reached out and caught her softly by the wrist. Her eyes looked up at him, nervous, ashamed, embarrassed… several things she had been the opposite of just minutes before.

"Thanks for… reading with me," he said with a slow smirk at the last bit.

She crimsoned, staring off into the lake as she stumbled to speak. "Well, I… you know, I was reading all that poetry and just kind of got caught up in it and… and well, clearly I got so caught up I thought I was with Dean for a second so I got carried away!"

"You thought you were with Dean," he repeated.

She nodded quickly. "Yes. My boyfriend."

Jess couldn't help himself. He leaned a bit closer so their foreheads were nearly touching and gave her a knowing expression. "I suppose Dean and I do look very similar. I could understand the confusion."

She licked her lips nervously. "That's..."

He continued, pretending to ponder thoughtfully. "No, it makes sense. We're clearly the same height, same hair color too, I think? We both rock that Chilton uniform very well might I add."

"Jess," she said with warning in his voice.

He felt brave. "I suppose we probably even kiss the same."

She rolled her eyes at that one. "We kissed for a play, that's hardly a basis to compare kissing with."

"I could give you a basis," he grinned, still riding that sudden bravery. She flushed even more and he knew he had to stop himself or he would end up trying to get back to where they were earlier. He held up his hands in surrender, taking a few steps back from her. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Come on, I'll walk you to the bus stop."

She shook her head, still seeming dazed and unsure of what had happened. "That's okay. I really need to hurry so I'll probably just run." Taking off, she was at the start of the bridge in no time. Flashing her head back for a moment, she called back, "Have a good summer, Jess!" and then was out of his sight.

So close, he thought as he stayed perfectly still, afraid if he moved he would find himself waking from a dream.