Jake Peralta doesn't get sad-drunk.
If anything, when it comes to partying, he is the one to lift up the mood with his crazy games and his weird but somehow delicious alcoholic mixes. He tends to be the last man standing – more than once did he find himself sharing one last beer with Gina (or Amy, back then) as the two of them remember stories about their younger years in the intimacy of the wee hours of the night while everyone else has long gone to sleep.
He who's already very energetic when sober becomes even more excited after a few drinks – in an almost manic, exhilarating way.
Yet here he is, on one of his favorite weekends of the year, one he's been waiting for for weeks now, all alone in Charles' beach house's hot tub. The rest of his squad seems to be having the time of their lives downstairs – he can hear the muffled sound of some music coming from the party room as well as the occasional loud bursts of laughter and cries of joy.
He can't tell how long he's been sitting up here in the quiet of the night, with the moon and stars and a beer for only company and the warm bubbles massaging his body – a much-welcomed contrast to the otherwise very cold winter wind blowing outside – but one thing is certain: he doesn't feel like joining his friends in their current shenanigans just yet.
Right now, he'd rather dwell in his loneliness.
He knows these weekends away are supposed to be void of any spouses or romantic partners of any kind, and yet Jake can't help but think about his past (failed) relationships.
First, there was Amy. Amazing, smart, funny, beautiful, best friend Amy. The reason why he's stuck in such meandering thoughts right now, as she's also the reason why he so suddenly left the party earlier, when she downed her fourth drink and started to get close to everyone. He was too afraid of how he might react if she were to get the sudden idea of getting close to him.
It might have been some time now since they parted ways, but still.
It came from some 'mutual agreement' after dating for a little while – they finally gave their story a chance after months of pining and missing out on each other only to come to the realization that it was affecting them too much. They worked better as colleagues.
As (best) friends.
He's moved on, now. Or at least he thought so. At least he did so for a while.
When then came Valerie. A sexy name for a just as sexy and awesome girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend, he should call her now. The breakup wasn't mutual, this time. Jake endured it rather than agreed to it. She sat him down a few weeks ago – they were about four months into their relationship, back when it happened.
The look in her eyes, the way she sat still with her palms flat on her lap instead of reaching for his own hands told him all he needed to know before she even opened her mouth (with being a cop, he's become very observant of people's body language over the years, a useful skill to use in interrogation): this wasn't going to be some fun and light conversation they were used to have.
And indeed he was right.
"I can't take this anymore," she said with a disapproving shake of her head before she told him she couldn't be with someone who's 'incapable of voicing his emotions.' She'd say the precious I love you to him several times already while he hadn't been able to say it back once. Not that he didn't love her – although maybe it was too soon to assure he was in deep, he could feel in his heart he was slowly, yet very willingly, falling for her.
Still though, he didn't try to contradict her. He didn't try to hold her back either. He didn't say the words she needed to hear. He couldn't.
After all, the last time he did, when he blurred it out to Sophia, it ended up with heartbreak too. She ended their relationship as well, no matter what he said or the solutions he tried to come up with to save their relationship.
So Valerie broke up with him – he was sad, of course, but it's been a few weeks now and he's over it, even if he's thinking about her right now. Actually, if he's thinking about her, it's because he's mostly thinking about Amy. The one he might not be as over with as he thought he was until then, finally.
He remembers how patient she was with him; how she never pushed anything upon him or complained when she so easily could have, too. How often did they start becoming a little too emotional on a quiet night spent together – never going as far as voicing their love for each other, though (and god knows Jake did love her) – and all he was able to respond was dumb words like 'noice' or 'smort?'
It's not that he didn't have anything to say. On the contrary, he had a lot he could have told her at the time – a lot he maybe should have told her that would have made things different for them and their relationship now. But the fear of messing up again from an outburst of emotion was too strong. The fear of losing her was hitting too hard.
So he did what he does best. He answered in a joking manner while he tried to hide the nervousness in his tone as best as he could.
And Amy never blamed him for it.
Maybe it's because they were friends before becoming lovers. Maybe it's the fact she knew about his past and fears and broken parts. Or maybe it's just who she is, the perfect person who knows how to deal with and more importantly accepts his many issues. Sometimes – even more so recently – Jake wonders how he managed to let things go as they did and let Amy go.
It felt so good when he was with her.
He knows the answer, though. He was a coward.
(They both were, to be honest – paralyzed by the fear and growing pressure weighing upon them as things were starting to get too real, afraid of how big the consequences would be if things were to shatter to pieces between them in the future as they were becoming more and more invested in their relationship. Choosing to part on good terms when they could still be friends seemed like the easiest choice at the time.)
Now Jake isn't sure it was the best choice after all. Maybe they should have tried harder. Fought harder for what they had.
If only he could turn back the clock and be able to tell her then what he's thinking now on this dark and quiet night, with his mind inebriated enough not to lock these feelings away this time…
The sound of the main door opening then closing suddenly shakes him out of his reverie. He turns around to see who's come to disturb him, and a smile forms on his face as he recognizes this is none over than the one person he's been musing about – the one and only Amy Santiago, partially hidden under a huge coat and beanie and looking, as always, utterly adorable – especially with her whole figure surrounded in the glow of the automatic lights that turned on as soon as she put a first step outside.
A rush of warmth, which doesn't come from the warmth of the hot tub he's currently sitting in, takes over him as he watches her.
Yep, he's definitely screwed.
"Jake?!" Amy recognizes him too, although she has to squeeze her eyes a little to make out his silhouette – as opposed to her, he's partially hidden in the dark, with the only light surrounding him coming from the tub. She seems a little surprised to realize she's not alone. "What, uh–… what are you doing here?" her voice is hesitant when she asks.
Jake notices the hand she quickly tries to put under her back; catches sight of the small stick she's holding between her fingers that she's trying (and failed) to hide. The sight of it makes him frown: he doesn't need any confirmation to understand she sneaked out of the party still happening downstairs to smoke a cigarette. Which she only does when she's stressed out.
And this is clearly not supposed to be a stressful weekend.
"And here I thought somebody had finally noticed I've been gone for like, the past half-hour," he jokes, which makes Amy chuckle. A puff of cold air forms in front of her face as the small laugh escapes her mouth. Jake grins, content – and somewhat relieved – to see that despite everything that happened between them, despite their huge history, it's still so easy for him to make her laugh.
(He can't retain the slight pang of pain that takes over his heart too, as he remembers this is what actually signed the beginning of their relationship; the point of no-return of Amy letting him know with her own words she liked him too. He makes me laugh.)
The amusement is soon replaced with seriousness though when he talks again. "You okay?" He nods in direction of her left hand and the cigarette to emphasize his words. He's too far away to actually see it, plus they're hidden under her beanie, but Jake is pretty sure Amy's ears are turning redder in the beginning of an (embarrassed, probably) blush right now.
"Yeah, I just, uh–… it's nothing." She averts her gaze as she speaks.
It's clear she doesn't want to dwell on the topic, so he lets it go despite his piquing curiosity at what might have triggered her. She doesn't owe him any explanation, after all.
She takes a few steps in his direction, until she's standing in front of him with her hands on the edge of the tub and her eyes staring deep into his, the beautiful brown irises shining in the night.
"Are you?" she asks in the softest, most caring voice.
Jake's heart flips in his chest. "Yeah." And he is, for realz, when she's here with him.
(At least part of him is. The other is aching for more, craving for past intimacy – both on a spiritual and physical level – he can't have anymore. For instance, if they were still together, he could reach for her and grab her by the waist, then kiss her complaint that you're getting me all wet away. He'd look at her with a smug grin when they'd part and would joke with daring, knowing eyes – 'You're Getting Me All Wet,' title of your sex tape.
Needless to say he now tries to avoid as best as he can that kind of banter he used to like so much – even before they started dating – with her.)
Silence falls upon them after that, calm and soothing – not the least awkward. It's the type of silence they could easily surround themselves with back when they were still together, the type of silence a guy like Jake, who always has something to say and can't seem to shut up, learned to appreciate, and which took them awhile to find the confidence to let fall upon them again afterwards.
"Oh, you can smoke your cigarette if you feel the need to." He suddenly remembers why Amy came here in the first place. "I don't mind."
"Thanks. But actually, I don't want to anymore." Her face lights up with a smile that's full of sincerity.
A new beat passes, during which she seems to consider something, lips slightly parted as it looks like she wants to say something but then she must change her mind. He catches her body shiver with the cold and she brings her hands to her arms, stroking vividly to warm herself up.
"Wanna come back downstairs?" she offers.
Jake is good here, and doesn't feel like leaving just yet. He doesn't want to face his friends' questions about what he was doing, alone for so long.
But he doesn't want to leave Amy's side either. Well, he mostly doesn't want to not be just the two of them anymore.
"Maybe in a bit," he tells her, then. "I want to finish my beer first."
She seems to hesitate again – she probably feels bad about leaving him to drink alone. But then another rush of cold runs down her spine – more than anyone Jake knows how easily cold she can get. (She used to tell him he was a great personal space heater before snuggling further against his side, back when they spent most of their nights together.) It's probably what makes up her mind.
"Okay. See you, then." She waves at him and walks towards the closed door. He watches as she presses the door's knob once, two times without anything happening.
She turns in his direction. "Do you have the key?"
"Nope. Why? The door wasn't closed when I came in." Jake frowns.
"It wasn't when I came in either. But now it is." He can see the panic of being locked outside, in the cold, starting to show on her face before she puts her full attention back on the door. She rings at the bell – several times – but nothing happens. She knocks on the door too, calls her friends' names. All in vain.
Jake doesn't want to freak her out more than she already seems to be – a feeling increasing with each new passing second without an answer from the rest of their squad – but he knows nobody's gonna come for them. Nobody came for him in all the time he spent alone; plus, they can still make out some music coming from downstairs, which means it's definitely too loud for the others to hear their calls. They must be too invested in whatever game they're currently playing to notice or care. Maybe they will when they decide to go to sleep.
Which doesn't seem to be anytime soon.
"I can't stay out here," Amy complains, banging on the door one more time.
She's fully panicking right now. Being still a little drunk probably doesn't help her thinking straight. At least they're not locked inside a room, Jake muses. He knows how claustrophobic she is.
Her cheeks are red and her whole body is shaking now, he can see when she shoots him a pleading look, hopeful he might have a brilliant idea in mind to get themselves (her) out of here.
"Hey, it's okay," he says in a soothing voice, wearing a soothing smile. "I'm sure someone will eventually come and open the door."
"Eventually?!"
Okay, he's not off with a great start in his let's try to calm Amy down project.
"You can just come in the hot tub in the meantime," he comes up with a new tactic, then. "It's really nice in here. And hot," he insists on the last word. "And I have an extra beer I'd be happy to share."
He raises an eyebrow in understanding but all Amy does is let out a sigh in return.
"I'm not wearing my swimsuit," she retorts. Yet she still leaves her spot near the door and goes back to him.
Jake pauses for just a second to consider his answer before he carefully lets it out. "And? It wouldn't be the first time I'm seeing you in your underwear. Plus I won't look anyway, and you can't see anything in here!" He hopes he didn't go too far with his offer (being drunk usually makes him think even less before talking than he usually does), but he couldn't think of another option and Amy's body is still shivering.
"I don't know…" she sounds hesitant.
"C'mon, Ames, you're freezing!" He moves inside the tub to get closer to her, grinning when he finds himself in front of her with his eyes staring at her. "The water's really good." He amusedly splashes her a little to make her feel it and hopefully help her change her mind. He wouldn't like her to get sick because she stood in the cold for too long.
She takes a step back, surprised by his unexpected gesture, yet a smile forms on her face as she does so. "Stop! I don't want to get it wet!" She looks down at her coat.
The words are out of Jake's mouth before they even form in his head first – like a natural reaction to her own instance.
"'I Don't Want to Get it Wet' – title of your sex tape!"
And just like that, the atmosphere, which was rather light and agreeable until then, switches to an awkward silence as Amy stares at him. At that moment, Jake hates his drunken self for this sudden, unwelcomed outburst. Amy is watching him with her mouth half-open, as if she doesn't know how to react to this. For a second he thinks he can see her eyes darkening a little in the night as her mind wanders off to somewhere else but it's gone too soon for him to be sure – for him to understand what it means.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–…" Jake apologizes. She dismisses him, offering him a reassuring smile once the surprise has left her eyes.
"No, it's okay. It was actually a good one." Her smile grows bigger – more playful, this time. It's all it takes for Jake to calm down a little and stop beating himself up too much. "Anyway, you're right. The water is good. I think I'll take you up on that offer to join you in."
With that, without waiting for any reaction on his part, Amy takes off her shoes, then her coat and beanie. She carefully puts them on a chair beside her before reaching for the jacket underneath.
Jake turns his head away to give her some privacy. Even though he tries to think about something else, eyes focused on the beer inside his hand, he can't help but be very aware of the fact that Amy is undressing in his back. His heartbeat quickens in his chest as he keeps looking down.
Eventually, she joins him inside the hot tub. She lets out a contented sigh once she's all settled in front of him. When he brings his gaze back on her, he can see her eyes are closed to better appreciate the warmth that's probably overcoming her right now, coming from the hot water. It takes away all the remaining worries Jake might have had about his idea.
It's clear to him she finds he was right, now that she's here.
"What?" Amy frowns when she opens her eyes again and meets with his own.
"Told you you'd enjoy it." He shoots her a smug grin, to which Amy answers with a shake of her head and splashes him in the face.
"Shut up."
And just like that, everything goes back to normal between them as they're bonding again.
It's all laughter and breeziness between them for a while, then. They drink their beers and share stories with a smile plastered on their faces the whole time, just like old times. Jake's mind is a little blurry with dizziness, which he doesn't know comes from the several drinks he downed mixed with the steam of the hot tub, or the sheer happiness Amy is making him feel.
It's most likely a mix of both.
He doesn't feel sad-drunk anymore – he's rather feeling blissful-drunk right now.
(And very much still in love with the woman sitting across from him.)
It's all laughter and dizziness between them until the characteristic sound of Jake's phone buzzing to warn him that he received a new text chimes in. He considers ignoring it at first and just go on with his conversation, but then realizes it might be one of their friends who finally noticed their absence. No matter how much he likes being alone with Amy, he can't pass on the opportunity of someone maybe coming to their 'rescue.'
For her. Because even though she doesn't seem cold anymore, he guesses she'd still rather be inside, where she first intended to go back to.
He gets closer to her as he reaches for the device, put down on a chair by her side.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Amy teases when he's about to grab it.
Her words make him look up at her curiously. "Why?"
She lets out a small laugh before further explaining herself. "You're not really good with phones and water." She shoots him an amused, knowing look – it doesn't take long for Jake to understand what she's talking about. He remembers well that one time his phone fell down her toilet on a weekend he was spending at her place.
He tried to play it discreet, but she caught him going through her cabinets in search of some rice and he had no other choice than to come clean.
"That's a low blow, Santiago. It happened once," he says in mock-annoyance, although he can't help but laugh along with her.
In his chest, his heart warms up a little more than it already usually does in her presence.
"You sure about that?" She doesn't buy it. "Because I remember you telling me it was the third time you were breaking a phone this way."
"Well, what I remember is that it worked very well again the next day."
"You kidding me? I couldn't understand half the texts you sent me at the time because the screen didn't work well anymore and it didn't write all the letters!"
They go on with their little banter for a while, relishing in this memory of what they used to be. It makes Jake completely forget about his text – until Amy reminds him of it, voice and face becoming all serious again after one last shared burst of happy laughter.
"Anyways, sorry. You should check your phone, yeah. What if it's Valerie? Maybe she has something important to tell you." The way she says his ex's name (who she doesn't know is his ex – he thought it'd be weird to talk about it with her) sounds a little defeated, and Jake swears he can see some sadness come shining inside her eyes for a beat as Amy averts her gaze.
He's drunk, though – he's probably reading too much into it and seeing what he wants to see. He might have feelings for her again, but there's no way she does too.
He scratches the back of his neck in a nervous tic as he answers her. "Yeah, about that… I doubt it's her."
The words make Amy look up at him – if there might have been sadness before, it's long gone now, replaced with confusion. "Why? I know we said it's a no spouses and partners weekend, but you can still text them."
"I know. But that's the thing." He lets out a sigh. "We're not together anymore."
"Oh," is all Amy has to say at first.
A few seconds pass, filled in awkward silence. "I'm sorry." She eventually breaks it again, offering him an apologetic smile.
"It's okay. It's been a few weeks now. I'm over it."
"What happened?"
Jake pauses, not so sure he wants to go over the reasons of his breakup with Amy, of all people.
"Sorry." She must sense his hesitation because she quickly talks again. "Of course you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"I couldn't say 'I love you' back," he surprises himself by blurting it all out. He finds it hard to hold her gaze after that.
"Oh." Here it is again. "And did you? Love her back?"
"Yeah. I wasn't deeply in love with her or something but, y'know…" He still can't look at her.
"I'm so sorry. It sucks she broke up with you because of this."
With his eyes down, Jake can see the hand that's laid next to his twitch under the water, as if Amy's considering to bring it on top of his in a comforting gesture.
She must change her mind eventually, because in the end she keeps it where it is.
(His body aches for her touch.)
"Nah, she's right." He looks up to stare into her eyes, a sad smile forming on his features. "I am incapable of voicing my emotions. I mean, I was in love with you too and yet I never told you." The confession is out before he can realize the weight of what he just said. When he does, it's too late to take back the words.
(At least he didn't tell her about how he still loves her, he tries to reassure himself as best as he can.)
His heart is literally pounding in his chest as Jake waits for Amy to react in any way, but she simply watches him with her eyes wide and her mouth half-open.
"You… you loved me?!" She seems startled when she finally finds her voice but there's something else shining inside her eyes – like she's in awe, too?
Her response actually boosts his confidence a little. Or maybe it's the alcohol still coursing through his veins, which already made him say stuff he wouldn't have had the guts to say otherwise. This is why he doesn't back away from the truth. "Of course I did. And maybe… maybe if I did tell you when it still mattered, we wouldn't have broken up too."
He lowers his gaze again, now that the bomb is all out.
He's pretty sure it's gonna blow up in his face but he had to say those words. Let her know how he still feels about her.
"Well, maybe if I had told you too…" Amy trails off – and it's actually nothing he had prepared himself for. She's staring at him when he brings his gaze back on her.
The explosion does happen, but it's one of bliss rather than desperation after being rejected like he thought he would be, and it takes over his whole heart.
Amy Santiago loved him.
And if he's to believe her words, it seems like she regrets them breaking up as well.
(It's still a bittersweet feeling, though. Because some questions remain. Does she still love him too? Would she be willing to start over?)
It takes Jake a few seconds to realize how close to him Amy is now sitting as he slowly falls down from his high. He catches how her eyes keep switching between his own and his lips, feels how the hand she was so hesitant to put on his has now found its (rightful) place on top of his. The touch of her skin against his still manages to send shivers running down his spine.
Their faces are only inches away, Amy's shoulder brushing against his as she keeps getting closer, eager and a silent understanding shining in her eyes.
With anticipation running through his veins, Jake thinks about how he's about to feel what Amy's lips taste like again, after all this time.
It seems like he got an answer to his internal questions, after all – because why else would she be currently leaning towards him and about to kiss him if it weren't because she loves him back?
Because she wants to give their story another chance?
"OUTCH!"
Their mouths are this close to brushing and their eyes are closed when the sound of someone squealing, then shouting in pain after seemingly being hit startles them away from one another.
"Charles?!" Jake recognizes his best friend's high-pitched voice coming from the inside of the room. (Although right now, he could very well consider him his worst enemy for having interrupted such a moment between him and Amy.) He sees him, as well as another silhouette he thinks he recognizes as Rosa, quickly bend down as they try to hide under a window.
"Don't mind us and go back to kissing!" he hears their colleague shout from inside the house as only answer.
Jake would love to do so. But as he brings his attention back on Amy, he can tell the moment between them is gone.
"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea." She simply says before drawing further away from him as she starts heading outside the tub, grabs her stuff and goes towards the door. "Charles, open up!" she then demands as she knocks and, after a few seconds pass and she threatens him a little, not amused by his 'prank,' the man obliges.
Jake watches while her figure slowly disappears away from him when she walks up to her room without a look back in his direction.
Finally, everything blew up in his face indeed – and even more spectacularly than he first imagined it would.
"So, are you guys getting back together?!" Charles takes him out of his dark thoughts when he joins him outside. A hopeful grin is lighting up his whole face.
Jake lets out a sigh. "Not now, Charles." Before he leaves the place as well without further explanation.
The door to Amy's room is closed when he passes by it, and for a second he considers knocking – they can't leave things as they are and need to talk about what (almost) happened. But then he resigns himself – he's not so sure he could go through another heartbreak tonight. So he simply locks himself in his own room.
He doesn't get much sleep that night, staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open and his mind going through the previous events over and over.
It's barely eight on the next morning when a weak knock on his door wakes him up after he eventually managed to fall into slumber. Some light is coming through the curtains of his window as the sun has set in the sky, and other than this one sound of someone knocking at his door, the full house seems to be quiet. He lets out a grunt when he slowly, very unwillingly tucks himself out of the warm covers of his bed. He curses whoever has come to disturb him as he reaches for the door – it's probably Holt asking if he'd be up for a invigorating morning walk on the beach.
(He should know he most definitely isn't.)
"Amy?!" Jake lets out her name in a startled voice when he opens the door and finds himself face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend. His heart comes breaking again in his chest as the simple sight of her manages to bring back what he tried so hard to forget the previous night: the memory of their little conversation in the hot tub, the brush of her breath against his face as they almost kissed.
"Hey." She offers him a shy smile. "Brought you some Aspirin and a glass of water. I thought you might need it." She shows him what's inside her hands. Jake's head is aching indeed, but not really from the hangover of having drunk too much – even though he did. But he doesn't tell her that.
"Thank you." He simply grabs the glass and medicine. For a while they stand in front of each other in awkward silence, until Amy clears her throat.
"Can I… come in? I feel like we should talk."
Even though he doesn't really want to – it's too early for him to function properly, even more so to talk about feelings –, he nods and pushes himself on the side to let her in. He knows she's right, after all. They can't ignore what happened, and the sooner they figure things out, the better.
They both sit on his bed, keeping a reasonable distance between their bodies.
"I'm sorry about last night. I crossed a line," Amy starts and Jake sighs. He already knows where this is going.
"It's okay." He decides to go ahead and say it for her – the heartbreak will hurt less, if the words come from his own mouth. "We were both drunk and got lost in the moment. It's a good thing Charles came in before we could actually do something we would have regretted immediately after. Because we both know this," he points towards the both of them, "can't work romantically, right?"
(Saying it himself still hurts like hell.)
Amy doesn't answer right away. She watches him with her lips slightly parted, these lips Jake wants to kiss so bad despite what he might have just said.
She seems to get lost in her thoughts for a moment. Her head lowers down and he follows her gaze. It fixes on his hand, a few inches away from her own. He remembers with an aching desire for her soft touch how she didn't hesitate to close the gap between their hands the previous night. How she initiated it all.
The atmosphere is heavy between them – full of tension when she brings her eyes onto his again and lets out what sounds like a desperate sight then eventually speaks.
"Right… no 'romantic-stylez' to ever happen between us anymore, uh?" she agrees with a smile, although it looks rather sad and resigned – it resembles nothing like her usual real, beautiful beam.
Something inside of Jake breaks at her mention of the exact same words he himself used, the first night he acknowledged to her he had feelings for her at a time that seems like forever ago now. The outcome here is the quite same, minus the undercover mission and a boyfriend getting in the way: he wishes something could happen between them and yet, just like back then, just like Amy just made it clear, it can't.
It won't.
(At least back then, he didn't know what it was, the blissful feeling of being able to call her his girlfriend. Now he does. And he misses it.)
"Well, if we both agree…" She clears her throat. Her voice takes him out of his reverie. "I guess I'll see you later? Sorry I woke you up." She stares for a beat too long.
But then she stands up and moves towards the door, and Jake finds himself close behind as he walks her out.
(As he doesn't really want to let her go just yet.)
She reaches for the knob but changes her mind at the last second. She suddenly turns in his direction, watching him with questioning eyes.
"So… we're good, right?"
"We're good," Jake assures with a nod.
"Noice." She smiles, something delicate – although it doesn't fully reach her eyes. It's both amusing and hurtful at the same time, her use of his own catchphrase.
It reminds him of the past.
"Smort," he plays along with her, wearing a genuine smile on his face as he lets the amusement take over the hurt.
The pain is still lingering somewhere inside of him though, but in spite of it, Jake somehow actually feels relieved, too – he'd hate for them to slip even further away than they already had because of the events of the previous night.
He can't picture a life without Amy in it, whether as his girlfriend or just a friend.
So, they're good.
(Are they really, though?)
After that she turns to face the door again, but Jake acts before he can think. He grabs her wrist before she can make a move; before she can step away from him – he can't let her leave again.
She seems surprised by the unpredicted gesture at first, until his mouth crashes onto her and he can feel her melting in his arms. She lets out a contented moan as she deepens their kiss, her hands tangling into his messy bed hair. Her lips feel the same as they always did in the past, perfect against his own. Yet somehow, it also feels like he's kissing her for the very first time.
Too soon they have to part, although they remain at close distance. Amy's smiling when he looks at her – he's grinning too, so much it almost hurts his cheeks, with his heart racing in his chest.
He can see some confusion shining in there as well, though.
"Sorry, it's just that–… No, we're not good." He explains himself, then. He catches how her smile turns into a frown. "We're far from good. I wasn't that drunk yesterday, and I do think we could work things out." To hell with their dumb excuses. "I'm ready to try and make things work – y'know, romantic-stylez. Because I love you."
He says the words so easily, it should probably terrify him – but it doesn't. On the opposite, finally getting to say them – and not in the past tense – feels good.
It feels right.
Inside his arms, Amy's smile reappears on her face – bigger, brighter. She only answers to his little speech with four words. "I love you too." Before she kisses him this time, more tender now than their first eager exchange, and his heart bursts will blissfulness in his chest.
(When he proposes to her a few years later, having known for a while now she's the love of his life and he never wants to let her go ever again – he did that mistake once, won't do it twice, and Amy seems to agree since she said yes –, Charles can't help but brag about how this is all happening because of him. They're celebrating the engagement at Shaw's when he confesses.
"I'm the one who locked you out that night you guys went back together," he explains. "With Rosa's help," he's quick to add when the woman shoots him a dark glare.
In response, Amy (exaggeratedly) argues she almost froze to death that night because of him. It makes Jake laugh as he holds her closer to him with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Despite his fiancée's words, he can't begin to feel mad at his best friends for coming up with such a plan. It did help to bring them to where they are now, after all.
Ready to get married.)