A/N: Content warning for this chapter, specifically M for one sexual scene. (It's more tame than Butterfly in a Glass Jar, if you've read any of those scenes, but still too graphic for T, I would believe.) For all of my stories, I bold the start and end of the M-rated scene if you want to skip it.

And thank you all for reading and reviewing. :) It means so much to hear your kind words of support. I'm planning for three more chapters in this timeline, and then there will be a small jump forward. More of Rose's past with Cal will come into play soon.

Part One: The Words

Chapter Seven

That summer was the most intoxicating summer of my life, and I can say that now in retrospect after being on this Earth for thirty-three years. I woke up every day with a flutter in my chest, my feet so light I felt like I could have pushed off the ground and flown away if I wanted to—and I would take her with me, far from here. My parents noticed the new shift in my behavior and attitude, and used it to their advantage by sliding the fall catalog of courses in front of me one day. My siblings didn't even bother to prod.

Despite my disinterest in college, I signed up for the semester with a glowing grin on my face. I believed that as long as she was with me, I could get through anything thrown at me. I had never understood the idea that teenagers believed they were invincible until she came into my life, and until that one particular late summer day.

We were hiding out by the lake, as we usually did when Rose was off duty, and I was on the last chapter of Great Expectations. She laid out in the sun, tanning her fair skin while the weather still gave her the opportunity, and I sat cross-legged, the book propped in one hand.

"So they end up together?" Rose asked as I closed the book.

"If that's what you want to believe," I said, lying down beside her so that our heads were next to each other.

Rose pursed her lips. "I suppose it has been many years… I'd like to believe they marry. From everything you've read me so far, I prefer those happier endings."

She didn't need to tell me that; I had already picked up on it. I had started noticing her subtle quirks and miniscule responses to anything that she liked or disliked. Based on the nearly imperceptible twitch of her nose, I had a sense that she liked this book. "Did you like it at least?"

"Yes," she said, confirming my hypothesis. "It was oddly funny at times."

We picked ourselves up off the grass and strolled along the side of the lake, landing on a path that led into the adjacent forest. The first time we had trekked through here, we had only gone a few feet in before I learned of Rose's irrational fear of birds. "What if it flies into your face?" she shrieked as a bluebird took off from a branch. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but ever since Sally—you know, our cook in England—told me that story of the woman who got her eye pecked out by a pigeon, I can't stop thinking about it."

Now she stayed close to me as we followed the path more deeply into the forest. I had wanted to take her out here, not just for its privacy and serenity, but for the creek specifically. My friends and I used to spend time out here every summer until we graduated, just talking and splashing around in the cool water. I thought, given our escapades in the lake, she'd enjoy a shadier, more secretive spot to relax and swim.

We broke off the path and became consumed by the dense trees. The trickling of the water was heard before we saw it, but it wasn't long after that that the creek came into view. "Here we are," I said. "What do you think?"

She looked around at the secluded area and the glistening water, a soft smile on her lips. "I think you should have taken me here sooner."

I could have made some point about the birds, but chose to keep my mouth shut instead.

We sat down on the driest patch of ground and basked in the silence; besides the book, I didn't bring anything else with me, not even my sketchpad. Her hand snuck up my leg to entangle with my hand, and I looked at her, already a twinge nervous by her playful smirk.

"I have an idea," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I dare you to jump in… Naked."

At the start of the summer, if a girl had asked me to do that, I would have flushed from embarrassment and made up some ridiculous excuse for why I couldn't do it. But this was Rose who was asking. I didn't think as I got up and started stripping my layers off, and I didn't hear Rose's shrieks as I uncovered my bare chest: "You're serious? You're going to do this? Oh my God! I can't believe..."

I got down to my underwear, and usually, this would have been an image from one of my nightmares, but I felt unafraid as I removed those last layers and jumped into the water, my bare skin prickling at the cool temperature. The thought of this woman I admired—and loved, though I hadn't said it out loud—seeing me so vulnerable didn't cross my mind. She could have asked me to do anything that day, and I probably would have done it. I was undeniably invincible.

I pushed my wet hair out of my face as I stood up and resurfaced, and I laughed at her expression: she looked equally delighted and surprised, with one hand over her mouth that fell away to reveal a gaping smile. "Your turn!" I yelled before wondering if it was rude to ask her to return such an unseemly dare.

She looked at my pile of abandoned clothes and laughed, her shock morphing into a sultry energy as she started to do the same. If I was a respectful gentleman, I would have looked away, but the playfulness at which she teased her clothing off begged to be seen. If she was nervous at all, she didn't appear to be; and for a couple of moments after her remaining fabric fell off, I was blinded by a Greek goddess.

She splashed next to me and jolted me out of my daze, whooping and giggling as she embraced the water against her bare skin. When she caught my eye, we stared at each other for a brief second before bursting out into laughter; we had returned to our senses and recognized what we had just done.

I didn't know what to do then. I wanted to chase her, wrap my arms around her; but without the clothing barrier between us, I was concerned that would be inappropriate. So I waited to see what she would do, and I didn't have to wait long before she sent a wave of water in my direction, dousing my face.

"So that's how you're going to be? All right then." I returned the splash, and she shrieked and laughed as we went back and forth with our water war. We had forgotten that if anyone were to hear us and walk over, we were in a compromising position—in public, with no clothes on, an unmarried couple. That joyful play could have continued all afternoon if I hadn't unintentionally gotten too close to her and my hand grazed her nude waist.

I blushed furiously. "I'm sorry," I stammered, though she didn't seem bothered. In fact, she dared to be bolder than we already were being and closed the space between us, wrapping her arms around my neck as her body became flushed against mine.

She placed her head on my chest, and I hugged her waist like I had been wanting to do for the last hour. I could feel her softness pressed against me, her skin warm against mine while fighting off the cold water droplets, and my mind raced and bounced all over the place. Disbelief, nervousness, calmness, and excitement all entangled together, but so did something else—a deeper, more alluring craving that I remembered experiencing that time we embraced in the lake. All of the mixed emotions with her in my arms, and the conscious attempts to keep my lust under control, made me tremble.

Then she did what I knew was the gateway to something more, the acknowledgement flickering across her eyes as she kissed me, another passionate kiss that would leave me up all night; and I was grateful that the water was keeping my blood cooled down as the intensity heated up, otherwise my heart would have exploded.

Rose started to shiver, and I could have sworn I felt her goosebumps against my skin. We both knew it was time to move on out of the chilly creek and bask in the sun for warmth. So just like that, the moment was over. Short, intrepid, and definitely burning with an unaddressed fire.

I swiftly draped my shirt around her shoulders as we got out of the water, uncaring that I was completely exposed. "Thank you," Rose said, much more mild-tempered than before, as I struggled into my underwear. I could sense her eyes darting on and off of me as she tried to focus on her own clothing, and by the time she returned my shirt to me, her cheeks were cherry red.

"At least our clothes are dry, right?" I tried to joke.

Neither of us said anything as we finished dressing and headed back to the house. There wasn't anything to say. Our audacious endeavor had opened up a door that had remained locked so far, and the tension was palpable. We both tried to return to a normal state of mind, but our cores were blazing with unadulterated desire as we parted that day.

The waiting period between then and the next time we had time together was agonizing. I had decided to be honest and direct with Rose about my feelings, the ones that were supposed to be reserved for marriage. If I had read the situation correctly, the strong sexual urges were mutual. What we were going to do about them? That required a separate conversation.

The next time she was available was in the evening, so she snuck into my room, and my well-intentioned discussion got pushed out by my nerves at seeing her again. Just my luck, though, she had brought a book with her. "I grabbed something off the shelf. I didn't recognize the cover." She handed it to me. The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot. She was not going to like that one. "What is it?"

I tried to brush off my predictions of the stories she would and wouldn't like, but ended up saying, "A story I don't think you're going to enjoy."

Rose crossed her arms, trying to look offended but actually appearing flustered. "You think so? Well, read it to me then and let's find out."

"Okay," I said as I fell back onto the bed and opened the book with my shaky hands. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Only one chapter in, I began to sense that Rose's mind was elsewhere; I stopped reading and she didn't even protest. "Everything okay over there?" I asked with a mild tease.

Rose nodded her head, although her eyes refused to meet mine. "Yes. You can keep reading."

I did as I was told, but again, I got halfway through the next chapter before I noticed she wasn't paying attention. "Are you certain—"

"I have an idea," Rose said, her hands clasping together in excitement. "Jack, can you teach me to draw?"

"Read and draw? Oh, boy… You're gonna wear me out," I chaffed, but I didn't protest the suggestion. After all, reading wasn't a distracting enough activity right now given the restless energy and sparks that were igniting between us.

I got out a blank sheet of paper and handed her a sharpened pencil, which she held like a foreign object. I supposed she was unfamiliar with the art of drawing as much as she was with reading and writing, and that was why she was asking. So I did the most logical thing and I sat behind her, grasping her hand in mine so we could move the pencil together.

As I guided her hand through the first couple of lines, I quickly learned that that logical decision wasn't doing anything to distance myself from my desire for her.

I had used drawing as a distraction from my life for years, but in this situation, it was adding to our unaddressed issue. Having her hand in mine seemed sweet and innocent, but it made my blood hotter. When I looked down at her, our eyes met, and by the heavy darkness swirling around in her gaze, I knew that was the end of trying to ignore the attraction.

My lips crashed against hers, and I had her pinned on the bed as her hand pushed the sketch paper and pencils off, spilling onto the floor. My body acted before my mind could think, and I trailed kisses down her jaw and neck, one which would leave a small bruise on her collarbone later.

My uncontrollable urges weren't helped by the quiet moans escaping her throat or her fingers knotting in my hair as she whispered my name. My hands found the buttons of her dress, and she nodded her head, breathless, and let me work on removing her dress as she unbuttoned my shirt. The entire time, I wondered if I was going to wake up from this dream.

I felt like my entire being was pounding as I laid her back down and studied her flushed face. A silent recognition of what was to come passed between us. I kissed her again, more gentle and controlled this time, and brushed a curl of fiery hair off of her face. The moment, once full of unbridled sexual energy, had crashed back down to a lingering longing, and I was compelled to confess. "Rose, I've never…done this before."

The electricity still circulating between us wasn't dampened by my honesty. Instead, she placed a hand on my cheek and rubbed it softly. "I haven't either, but…I trust you." My heart skipped a beat. "And I want to be with you in this way."

I felt like I was soaring as I kissed the inside of her wrist. "I trust you, too."

The buzzing energy that had started the evening with us throwing ourselves at each other was down to a low hum, and each of our actions for the rest of that night were smoother and more deliberate. We rid ourselves of the rest of our clothing and I was astounded by her again, and how even under the dim light, she looked angelic.

But unlike the other day, this wasn't just a glimpse. My hand fell into the curve of her waist and trailed down her hip, no sign of roughness on her skin. Her hands, which had been digging their nails into my bare back and shoulders, took mine and permitted them to explore places I wouldn't have dared put them. I began to tremble as she pushed my hand down her full torso, and lower still, yet I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be because I trusted her.

When the moment finally came, I entangled one of her hands with my own, and though her grip tightened at first, she let go and used both of her arms to pull me down into a deep, passionate kiss.

If I thought I was soaring before, then I was rocketed to the moon that night as we found our rhythm and followed it through to the climatic end. I didn't think I could love this woman more, but again I was proven wrong as she tightened her grip on my back and held me closer, pulled me in closer, unwilling to let go of me and this idyllic moment. "We won't be separated forever," I would comfort her the next morning as she clung to my chest, our naked bodies still entangled in the sheets. "We'll see each other later…"

Afterwards, as I kissed her damp forehead and cheek, I realized that the salty taste was a mingling of sweat and tears, and I stopped what I was doing and asked, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

She tenderly rubbed my back. "No, no, that's not it," she said, and her eyes were sparkling under the dim lamp light. "I just… I never thought I could feel this happy with a man again."

I assumed she was referring to her past with Cal, but I didn't dare bring it up during such an intimate moment. Instead, I replied, "You make me the happiest man in the world." And that was true; that was how I felt. I laid my head down to relax in the crook of her neck as her fingers brushed through my dampened hair. And then, that overwhelming feeling dawned on me, the one we had been cultivating all along, and I said, "I love you."

Saying that out loud was something I always expected to be frightening, but in that moment, I was at peace because I felt it was right. There was no denying what was happening between us. I could feel her fingers still knotted in my hair, her heartbeat still calm. "I love you, too," she murmured, and though we would have many more passionate nights like tonight in the future, I would never forget that first time when we bore our souls to each other with absolute faith and took a trip to the stars.