Woody's POV:

There was a dull throbbing in my head. The sunlight coming through the window was nearly blinding. I was momentarily disoriented, but seeing her was all I needed to remember exactly where I was and what happened. Jordan looked so beautiful. She was curled up in all the covers on the bed. I was tempted to trace all her curves as to memorize her body, but I held back. I didn't want to wake her; I didn't want to face the possibility that she thought that this was some colossal mistake. It wasn't a mistake; I needed to keep telling myself that it wasn't a mistake. My heart told me that this wasn't a mistake; my head wondered if I had just risked the best friendship that I could ever ask for. It really didn't matter what I thought; it was Jordan that would decide what happened next. I hoped that she wouldn't be as conflicted as I was.

Being around Jordan was all it took to forget about Annie. I remembered what it was like to feel comfortable and safe. Something about Jordan . . . something about her presence made me feel whole again. It was something new; I didn't remember Jordan ever being so composed, poised, and selfless. I wondered how I could have missed all these changes. I wondered why Jordan thought she needed to change.

She looks beautiful. The thought is redundant, but unshakable. I can smell her perfume. It was a new scent . . . vanilla and lavender. It was a combination as unique as Jordan. It was a combination I had never smelled before. I knew that from this day forward when I smelled vanilla and lavender, I would think of Jordan. There always was some part of my brain that was thinking of Jordan regardless of the stimulus.

I had expected her to tell me to stop last night. I hadn't expected her to touch me as she did. I hadn't expected her to share her body with me. I wondered why she did. I gave her no reason to love me in return. Annie was a malignancy that I never could rid myself of. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I needed to move on. That was hardest thing I ever had to do . . . give up on the one thing that had sustained me through my teenage years. Annie for Jordan . . . last night it became very obvious that I had 'traded up.' I cannot remember Annie comforting me as Jordan did. I cannot remember Annie making me feel so okay about my shortcomings. I had to remind myself that it was only a vertical move if Jordan would agree that maybe it was time that we stopped playing these games . . . it was time we put some meaningful effort into figuring out if we could ever be something more than friends.

I wanted Jordan to say that she loved me. That was something I wanted to hear, but I had to remind myself that this wasn't a traditional courtship; Jordan was very far from being a traditional girl, but I saw that changing. It didn't need to be perfect; I just wanted to have Jordan. I wanted to stop playing the game. I knew I had to do a lot of work to get back to where we were just a few weeks ago; I needed to rebuild trust and honesty. I needed to know that she forgave me; I needed to know that her words weren't courteous adult bullshit designed to prove that she was indeed the adult in the relationship.

I gave in to my temptation. I ran my finger along her profile, trying desperately to remember every inch of her body. Her skin was so soft. I was transfixed by watching her chest rise and fall. The littlest things about Jordan could bring me to my knees. Jordan didn't understand that those were the most beautiful things; those were the most special things about her . . . her being was so much more beautiful than any other. I was so stupid to stray as I did. This morning, I was afraid of losing something that I never really knew.

She looked so beautiful.

"Hey," Jordan said as she rolled on her side. She clutched the sheets to her body. I knew that was a bad sign; she must be having second thoughts.

"Hey, I didn't wake you up, did I?" I asked. I didn't know what to do next; I thought being with someone you loved was supposed to be easy. I'm not sure why I still thought that; being with Annie was nothing less than challenging.

"No, I think I forgot to close the blinds last night," Jordan replied. She blushed a little. I had never seen Jordan blush before.

"I should go," I replied.

"We could go out for breakfast," Jordan offered.

"Sure . . . Jo, about last night," I said. I didn't want to be the one to broach the subject, but I got so sick of dancing amongst clever small talk.

"Woody, let's not analyze last night. Analyzing always seems to get me in trouble," Jordan replied as she sat up and began to reach for her robe.

"Jordan, I don't want this to be . . . I don't want this to be just last night," I replied.

"Woody, I don't want it to be just last night, either. We still have a lot to work out," Jordan replied. She wrapped the robe around her and got out of bed. She looked so beautiful. I wanted nothing more than to hold her. I didn't know how to ask her.

"Jordan, I'm sorry," I replied. She stopped. She turned around and walked back to me.

"Woody, I'm not sorry. I just want this to be right . . . I don't want it to be another hit and a miss," Jordan replied as she sat on the bed next to me. She smelled so good.

"Jordan, don't pull away from me again," I whispered. I ran my fingers through her hair . . . ran my fingers along her cheek bones. I knew that last night was too good to be true; she was afraid. I knew she was afraid of being hurt again.

"I need to know that I'm not a replacement for Annie or Devan," she whispered. I needed to strain to hear what she said.

"You aren't a replacement. Jordan, you are so much more to me than you think," I replied. I could see the tears in her eyes. She looked so terrified. Her thoughts must have been torturing her last night. I understood why; last time she let me in, I pushed her away to become entangled with Devan.

"Please don't say things that you don't mean," Jordan replied.

The best I could do was kiss her. I wished that I would have been able to tell her that I loved her. I wanted more than anything to say that, but I didn't want to hear dead silence in the moments after. I was thankful that she kissed me back; I expected her to run. Jordan had become so careful with her heart. She had every right to.

It was easy to get lost in a kiss. It was easy to get lost in anything uniquely Jordan. I marveled at how soft everything about her had become. Her skin was soft, her hair was soft, and the walls that Jordan so carefully erected were soft. I could sense that those walls were beginning to crumble. I wanted to spend the morning and afternoon lost in everything Jordan. I wanted to learn every inch of her body.

I was convinced that Jordan had no idea how beautiful she was. She tried so hard to cover her body. I didn't know why she was hiding. I was pretty sure that she wasn't told she was beautiful that often. I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to tell her absolutely how beautiful she is. I wanted her to know that she was so much more than Annie or Devan. I didn't have the words to tell her that.

She felt so good in my arms. I was beginning to remember what home felt like. I didn't want to let her go. She wasn't pulling away from me; I was so thankful that she didn't pull away. I wanted to stay here forever.

Jordan let me spend the morning memorizing every curve of her body. She let me learn every inch of her flesh. She in turn held me. At one point, she whispered that she had no regrets. I didn't have any; I fell into a restful sleep. Jordan's head was on my chest. In my last moments of wakefulness, I whispered that I loved her. I swear that I heard her say that she loved me too.