5/4/13 AN: This is the last completed chapter I had and I didn't change a whole lot. Mainly, I needed to get Eric's mind-set under control. I wanted to adjust to where he wasn't so bitter and frankly hurtful toward Sookie. If he were where I was putting him, there's no way my metal HEA for them would work. I have a partial chapter in progress on my hard drive, but I'm promising myself that I am finishing my other WIP (not posted yet) before I do anything else since that one is almost done in my head – I just have to get it down in actual words. I don't own 'em… but a girl can dream, right?.

SPOV

Jake is already up and packing when I wake up. He smiles and points to a steaming mug of coffee, doctored to perfection. I breathe in the heady steam before taking that first fortifying sip. Jake knows me well enough to know that first thing in the morning, my need for caffeinated goodness takes priority over almost anything else.

"I'm going to head home., I have unpacking to do and I've intruded on your hospitality long enough," he says, zipping his bag closed.

I nod. "I could use a little alone time to think. Not that I don't love having you around, but I need to be on my own for a few days."

"You're not fooling me, Stackhouse. As soon as I leave, you're going to call him, aren't you?" He smirks at me from across the room and winks.

Sipping more coffee, I shrug. "I might make it until you're out of the driveway," I say with a grin. More seriously, I continue, "He deserves an explanation for last night," I narrow my eyes at him, "and you damn well know it."

"What?" he asks with exaggeratedly innocent, wide baby cow eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that. Telling him how you 'take care of my needs' and relating his rejection to Jason's death! Both things were completely unnecessary and that last thing was untrue besides! Just because I didn't call you on that shit last night doesn't mean I let it go. What the hell were you thinking, Jake?" Once the coffee hits my bloodstream, my temper flares.

He carefully wraps an arm around my shoulders. "You have a right to be upset. I know I overstepped. My protective instincts got jolted by that guy acting like he had a right to be here and to be upset with you. If he was going to show up at all, it should have been with his tail between his legs, but instead he had steam rolling out of his ears. It pissed me off that he felt entitled. Some of what I said was so he would pull his head out of his ass. You don't need him and he needs to know that you're worth more than he's giving you."

Aww! His little speech chokes me up a little and I have to sip more coffee to clear the lump in my throat. He wraps his other arm around me in a tight hug before pressing his lips to my forehead, grabbing his bag, and heading home.

I finish my coffee and stretch, then roll out of bed to start the day. I pop a bagel in the toaster while I gather the courage to make the call. After coating the bagel with cream cheese, eating slowly, and fixing another cup of coffee, I've run out of reasons to stall and determine it's not too early to call.

"I'm surprised you're calling," is how I'm greeted instead of the traditional "Hello". Oh, this promises to be all kinds of fun.

"I'm calling to apologize for Jake. He told me about what he said to you last night and he was completely out of line." I don't think he needs to know I heard almost the whole exchange.

"Considering the bias that comes from him being the storyteller, why are you apologizing for him rather than bitching me out over my attitude?" He sounds more sullen and bitter than he has in a long time.

"He told me that he intentionally misrepresented who he was in my life, trying to get a reaction out of you." I'm still kinda pissed about that.

"Yeah, and?"

I have to sigh. I hate hearing the resentful tone in his voice. "Eric, Jake is just a friend. He's a little overprotective of me. From his point of view, he thought he was doing the right thing. I don't happen to agree."

"He's just a friend? That's all?" While still harsh, his voice is tempered slightly by his inquisitiveness.

"Just friends. He surprised me by showing up earlier this week. Since I had nothing else going on, I invited him to stay and visit for a little while. There's really nothing between us other than friendship." I don't know why I want to justify myself to him; it just seems like he needs some reassurance.

He huffs out a deep breath and I can't tell if it's from annoyance or relief. "I can't say that meeting him last night didn't piss me off. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still a little. But… " another damn sigh… "it's not your fault. Look I'm getting ready for lunch with my mom, so I have to go."

"Uh… look," I start, trying to stall, "after lunch, can you come by? Jake's gone and I kinda want to know why you came by last night. Jake said you were being confrontational, but, "I rush to put my spin on it, "that could have just been him." I'm not the kind of gal to let things fester; I really want to know why he showed up in a huff after almost a month of avoidance.

"Eh… yeah. I don't see why not. I'm not sure how long I'm going to be with Mom, so why don't I just give you call when I'm on my way?"

I try not to exhale too loudly and realize I've been holding my breath. I agree and we iron out a few additional details before ending the call. I wander around the house and try to figure out what to do with myself and my unusual down time. Glancing out my window at my sun-dappled lawn, I smile and decide to indulge in a forgotten vice. I change out of my pajamas, make and pack some lunch in a small cooler, toss a few necessities in a tote bag, and drive off.

It's been a long time since I've spoiled myself with sunbathing and I haven't been to Daddy's cabin since Jason's funeral. Someone has been out here though: the field is mowed and the dock has been maintained, with the pale wood of new planks contrasting with the older wood that is a little warped or cracked. I spread out my towel and lean back, relaxing in the silence of the empty space.

I loosely time my exposure, flipping from front to back regularly to keep my color even. I grab my cooler and enjoy the shade of the cabin porch while I eat. I return to my towel and am almost asleep on my stomach when the phone rings.

EPOV

I rush around after ending the phone call, not quite sure how I feel. I want to be furious at Sookie, but her apology for her "friend's" behavior, as well as the fact that she wasn't personally involved, negates my ability to do so. I rush through a shower, get dressed, check the directions to the restaurant where Mom wants to meet, and leave.

Half an hour later, I pull into the parking lot and immediately see my mom's Volvo. I park a few spots away and go in, scanning the tables for her. She sees me and waves me over with a tense smile. A server approaches and we order; Mom asks to hold off the conversation until after we eat.

After the meal, she orders a glass of wine and I get a beer. I'm beginning to get nervous from the obvious stalling. Once the server walks away again, Mom sips her wine and temples her fingers, looking at her hands rather than me. "I'm not quite sure where to start this, Eric. I have a lot to tell you."

She's not normally like this. She says what she thinks and doesn't really care how other people regard it. In her profession, she has to be straightforward. "Take the easiest thing and we'll go from there."

"Okay, that might work." She takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm putting the house up for sale and moving closer to the hospital sometime in the fall."

That's not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I'm relieved; Pam and I wondered why she was keeping that big house all to herself. My father was almost never there, if he ever came "home" at all. "That makes sense since Pam and I moved out. What brought on the decision?"

She sighs again and looks down into her wine glass, swirling the deep red liquid. "Your father had me served." Her eyes meet mine over the table and clarifies, "With divorce papers."

That bastard. I already neither liked nor had much respect for the man, but I know now that I actually hate him. My jaw tenses and I know Mom can see it. She decides to explain further. "Crystal is pregnant."

I'm speechless. He ignores my mom for years and moves in with his former "assistant" after Pam leaves for college. Now he lives with this whore, only seven years older than me, and decides to have a baby… with her? Another kid that can grow up neglected and feeling resentful is just what this world needs. At least Pam and I had a mother who was involved in our lives as much as her job would let her. This poor kid would not only have a part-time father, but a mother who is more concerned about hair care than child care. "Did he tell you about his bastard before or after he had you served?" I ask with my jaw tight.

"Eric!" she exclaims in a hushed whisper. "He called after I got the papers. He wanted to know what I would agree to to get this settled quickly and quietly. Apparently his mistress is anxious to change her last name and he's willing to bend over backwards to get this done." I hope she takes him to the fucking cleaners. "That's why I'm moving. I don't want to live in that house anymore and with you kids gone, I don't need the room. I told your father that I wanted the house so I can sell it and use the proceeds to get something new for myself. He practically choked when he jumped to agree to that." Her lips twist in a wry smile before she takes another sip of wine. "I only asked for one other thing.

I wonder when all of this happened. Have I really been so self-involved that I'm not finding out about all of this until now? A sickening chill of guilt starts to creep over me because I know Mom isn't the only one I've been blind to. "What else?"

"He's setting up trusts for you and Pam that you'll be able to take over at the age of thirty. I don't trust that gold digging tramp and I want to make sure you and your sister are taken care of, at least financially. The accounts my parents left for the two of you were earmarked for college and anything left over after your graduation was for fun. Since your father decided to spend your formative years working, the least he can do is set aside some of the fruits of that labor for the children he neglected in order to work as many hours as he could."

She sounds so bitter and a small part of me wonders why. It's not as though she ever gave up hours on her job to spend more time with Pam and I, although she did seem to try harder to be there for us. My sister and I accepted it as a fact of life early on: work came first for Mom and Dad. I had no idea she resented him for doing essentially the same thing she did.

But then again… maybe it wasn't the fact that we were neglected for a job. Maybe it was that she would work hectic graveyard shifts only to come home to a cold, empty house and bed while he worked stereotypical bankers' hours and went to an apartment that was all his and the arms of his decades-younger mistress. In actuality, besides the number of hours the spent with their jobs, not a thing about their situations was similar.

I've only spoken to my father once since I've moved back. I gave him my new address and informed him that I used the majority of the trust from grandparents' that was left after graduation to pay for my condo. The rest was used for utilities and living expenses until I decided what I wanted to do with my life. I have no desire to interact with him any more than I have so far.

I pull my attention back to Mom, aware that I've been drifting in my head. I reach across the table and take her hand, surprising us both. "Mom, you have my full support, and I bet Pam's too. You've been too good to him and for him for years. I'm personally surprised that you didn't leave him years ago."

Her eyes look up from our clasped hands glistening with sad, unshed tears. "Because I still love him, Eric. I hate the cheating, the time I had to spend alone, and the fact that he hasn't loved me for a very long time. But I can't turn my heart off. I want to and God knows I've tried… so many times. This wouldn't hurt so much if I'd been able to do that." She shrugs and looks down again. "But I can't. And I can't let him know how this is ripping me apart."

Knowing that my mother still loves the asshole stuns me, though it shouldn't. I know more than I want about having feeling that can't be turned off… shit, now I feel really fucking guilty. From the moment we left the bar at Montano's, I've done every fucking thing wrong. I left a lot unclear after our night in the hotel (which I really wish I could remember better). I didn't take her attempts at starting a real friendship with me seriously; part of me just wanted to fuck her again and that seemed like the best way to do it. When she confessed she wanted more, I blew her off. And not just for a few days to collect my thoughts. I hurt her. More than I ever anticipated that I'd be able to and I'm not happy about the fact that I did, like I once thought I would be.

That douche who yelled at me in her driveway last night was more right than I wanted to acknowledge to a complete stranger, especially one who implied multiple times that he was sleeping with my… how would I even classify our relationship? She thoughtfully pointed me in the direction to actually do something with my life and education that I would appreciate and enjoy. I show my appreciation to her by cutting her off. It's really unforgivable, the way I've treated her. I still fully intend on asking her for her forgiveness anyway.

I grab the check before my mother and hug her tightly. We go our separate ways and I sit in the car, just looking at her number on the screen. I have to give myself a pep talk before hitting send. It's occurred to me that she's apologized twice now for things she's not at fault for rather than bitching me out for the way I acted. She used to have no problem calling me out when I'm the asshole. I kind of miss it.

On the fifth ring, I'm convinced I'm going to end up leaving a message. After last night, there's no way I'm showing up unexpectedly… again. Before the sixth ring ends a sleepy voice answers, "Mmm… yeah, hi," she rasps.

I can see her in my head: blue eyes twinkling, blond hair wild around her shoulders, muscles pulling sinuously as she stretches. I forget to speak. "Umm, Eric? Are you there?"

I clear my throat, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. Do you mind if I come over now?"

"Hmm… how far away are you? I wanted to have lunch at the lake and I almost fell asleep. It'll take me about twenty minutes to get home."

I stop her. "No! I can be there in fifteen. The lake is closer. Do you mind waiting?" I don't want her to go; I want to talk to her in the peace of our field. There are a lot of things I need to say and I don't want to make it easy for her to run if she is inclined to do so.

"Sure, I can wait," she says, sounding confused. "I guess I'll see you in a few." It does take a genius to tell she's wary… not that I haven't given her a reason to be.

I pull out and start driving, a little faster than normal to meet my self-imposed fifteen minute deadline. I think about all my mom has told me, combining that wisdom with the unpleasant realities thrust upon me last night. I do want her back. I want to see if anything of what we used to have still exists. There is something about her that won't let go of me. I wouldn't have felt that irrational jealously otherwise. I still have to ask her about that guy and I have to remind myself to keep calm so I can hear her out. Another temper tantrum on my part won't help anything.

Time flies as the familiar turns appear and before I know it, the open, green field fills my windshield. The cabin sits off to my right and I see movement in my peripheral vision. Sookie. Turquoise and cherry red string bikini. Oh fuck. God is punishing me. She finished tying on a red skirty cover-up thing and waves me over.

SPOV

I can't help but mentally chuckle at the dumbfounded glaze on his face when he sees me in my bikini. He's seen me in nothing and hasn't looked so stupefied. I wave him over to sit in the shade of the porch with me after I tie on the gauzy little sarong I found that matches this so perfectly. He takes a seat in a folding chair and watches as I sit on my chaise lounge. "So, I guess we have a lot to talk about, huh?" I start quietly. Things are so much more awkward now than they used to be.

He nods. "Can I start with why I dropped off the face of the earth?"

I nod, slightly stunned. I thought for sure the Jake thing would be jumped on immediately. I lean back and wait for his explanation, I get a thrill when he tell me how the lead I gave him actually panned out and how he's thrown himself into his new job. I'm so proud of him and happy that he's doing something that he enjoys so much. However, it doesn't really explain why he disappeared for so long. When I ask about that, he looks down.

"I don't have an excuse for that. Really, I wanted to give you a few days to yourself, but I also needed some time to think. I wasn't sure what being with you again would be like and I didn't know how to talk to you about it. So I was a cowardly shit and avoided you."

Eric doesn't hide. But now I have to wonder… "So why did you show up last night? Jake said it looked like your head was about to explode."

"Eh…" he hesitates and turns a little pink. "I saw you two downtown while I was having dinner with the other coaches." The uncertain, nervous look slides off his face. "You kissed him and let him grab your ass. What kind of 'friends' are you?"

I sigh and tamp down my frustration. "The very affectionate kind. I met Jake at a party in my apartment building at the end of my sophomore year. A mutual friend thought we'd hit it off and set us up. Once we met, we talked about how we were both too busy to keep up with dating or a relationship, despite there being an… attraction between us." I remember his accusation at the hotel about claiming other priorities to avoid commitments and shake my head at myself. "We started hanging out in our free time and, yes, occasionally we would uh… help each other out. But despite the physical aspects of our relationship, it remains just a friendship. Besides," I add, cocking my eyebrow at him, "it's not like anyone else has a claim on my affections."

He huffs a deep breath and nods. "I deserve that. I have absolutely no right to feel jealous. You offered me a chance and I blew it. I… I just learned some things today and I want to do all I can to not end up in a similar situation.

I can't remember a time recently when I've heard him sound so vulnerable. "Something you learned from your mom?" I ask and he nods again.

"My dad is divorcing her because he knocked up his girlfriend," he says drily and I gasp. I remember that he suspected his dad of cheating when we were in high school, but he didn't have any concrete proof. I hadn't said anything at the time, but I never liked the guy. "When I asked Mom why she stayed with a man who ignored her and cheated on her for years, she just said that she still loves him, no matter how much she doesn't want to. I don't want to be in either of their places."

I think I know what he means, but I still ask him for clarification. He runs his fingers through his hair, so sun-bleached it's almost white. "I don't want to love in misery, loving someone who doesn't love me back. But I also don't want to be so self-involved that I can take that kind of love for granted. I mean, Dad had it all: a beautiful, devoted wife, two kids that worshipped him, a big comfortable house, and a successful job. He chose to give up everything but the job in favor of living like a childless bachelor – except when it suited him – and fucking a brainless, bleach-blond bimbo. I wonder how long it will be until she starts resenting his hours and gets suspicious when he says he has to work late. How old will her kid be before it learns that Daddy is an unreliable prick? How long until the asshole thinks he deserves better yet again and abandons another family?"

Uh… wow. I have no idea what to say. I don't what he wants or expects me to do. I scoot closer to him and rub the back of his hand sympathetically. He surprises me by twisting his writ and interlocks his fingers with mine. "I don't want to be like them. I don't want to take anything for granted. If the offer is still available… I want to try this again."

Stunned. Shocked. That is absolutely the last thing I expect to hear from him. Part of me wants to jump him now, but the sensible part of me needs to know some things first. "You hurt me, Eric. I've dropped my guard… let myself be vulnerable in front of you so many times since I came back. Last time I opened up to you, you were in the wind for a month. I thought I'd ruined everything. Can you promise me that you won't do that to me again?" I need some kind of assurance; the only reason I'm admitting my hurt and exposing my weakness (again) is because he's done the same, putting us on even ground.

He takes my other hand and looks up. "I can't promise that I won't hurt you. It would never be intentional, but you know as well as I do that things happen. But I can promise that I'll try not to. But Sook, that guy said you were thinking of leaving…" he trails off.

Damn it, Jake! I forgot about that. It had been something I babbled about when I was telling him about Jason. I shake my head at Eric. "I was talking to him about a thought I had after Jason died. Being close to him was a big factor in me coming home. Losing him made me question that decision then, but now… I like my job, I love my house, and I feel good that I'm here for my parents. I'm happy here now and I don't have any plans to leave anytime soon," I say with a small shrug and a smile, hoping my explanation reassures him.

It does. His eyes crinkle a little at the corners as he smiles over at me from the folding chair. He slides to the edge, closer to where I'm reclined on the lounge. "So we're going to try this? You and me, again?"

Nodding, I scoot down closer to him. "Looks that way," I murmur, wondering how we're going to do this.

Lifting off the chair entirely, he kneels, straddling my legs. "Can I kiss you, Sookie?" he asks softly, leaning forward slightly. I nod again, locking his eyes with mine. He closes the distance and brushes my lips with his gently, so different from the violent, needy claiming in the hotel. Reflexively, my eyes drift closed and I lean into him, deepening the kiss. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of my lips, nips the lower one softly, and pulls back. His eyes open slowly and he looks slightly dazed. "I don't want to mess this up by going too fast. I there are so many things I want to do right now, but I want this to be different. And on that note, " he stands with a grin, "I should leave while my willpower is still intact." He bends down to kiss my cheek before heading off.

As soon as the tail lights disappear, I temporarily turn into a fourteen-year old, squealing and kicking my feet like a seizing fangirl. Yes, it's silly, but it fits my mood. Giggling, I calm myself down, run down the dock and jump in the water for one last swim before heading home. When I surface, I flip to float on my back for a few peaceful minutes, just reveling in the simplicity. When I decide I just can't put off going home any longer, I wrap my towel around my waist and leave the lake, finding it ironic that it's all starting again where it ended last time.

AN: The title of this chapter is from my very favorite song at the moment, despite the lack of mainstream radio play that it gets. Hope you enjoyed. MissyDee is my beta-savior for proofing and pre-reading for me. To everyone else, thanks for reading, reviewing, and alerting!