Chapter Thirteen

Her lashes slowly fluttered and Elizabeth groaned low in her throat, finding the idea of waking up very unappealing. She was comfortable right where she was; she was warm and at peace and she didn't want to move. Ever. Half-sighing, half-growling, the brunette lifted her hand and brought it under her chin, seeking to snuggle into her pillow and burrow back into the warm cocoon of slumber.

But her pillow wasn't quite as soft as she imagined it would be. Instead, it was hard – and hot. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she pouted, sleepily puzzled when she was able to splay her fingers across a hard, warm surface – underneath which she could feel something steadily thumping.

Reluctantly and with great physical effort, Elizabeth lifted her heavy lids. And promptly saw a dark shadowed peak right by her lips and the broad expanse of a very muscular chest directly under her small hand.

Shooting upright with a startled cry, the brunette had to blink a couple times before she was convinced that the scene she saw before her was real. Jason was half-sitting in bed with the previous day's newspaper in one hand and his other arm wrapped protectively around her waist, anchoring her to his side as she slept, blissfully ignorant.

The corner of his mouth hooked up as she stared at him. "Morning."

"Oh. Um, good morning," she stammered, running her hand through her mussed hair. He watched her openly as she brushed the silky, tousled strands back and then checked under the covers. He couldn't help the grin that rose to his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Her cheeks pinkened instantly. "Nothing."

"Checking to see if you're still dressed?" he teased wickedly, his question validated when she rolled her eyes with a huff and proceeded to kick off the warm comforter.

She dangled her legs off the edge of the bed, shaking her head briskly before she hopped up to stand. "Jesus," she muttered under her breath, bending over to grab at her slippers and inadvertently giving him a lovely view of her little bottom. She righted them and quickly stomped her feet into the blue fuzz. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

The amused smile dropped off of Jason's face at the humiliation in her voice, the embarrassment that was practically radiating off of her in palpable waves. "Elizabeth-"

"You're supposed to be getting better and what do I do?" she stomped over to the dresser to snatch up her keys that she had left there the previous day. "I drape myself all over you and you can't even get a good night's sleep."

He lunged for her as soon as she was close enough, succeeding in grabbing her wrist and yanking her off her feet. With a startled yelp, she crashed on top of his chest, her hands braced on his hard muscles, and stared at him in surprise before hastily trying to scramble off of him. But Jason anticipated that move and wrapped one arm around her waist, allowing her to scoot off of him but still keeping her pinned to his side.

"Hey."

She wouldn't quite meet his eyes so he shook her lightly.

"Hey, look at me." Her pearly white teeth worried her bottom lip as Elizabeth slowly raised her dark sapphire orbs to his. "It's not a big deal, Elizabeth."

She was far from convinced. "Jason, you're still sick and instead of letting you rest, I-"

"I slept fine, Elizabeth," he assured her, not quite ready to tell her that it was the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time. "You weren't bothering me."

Her silky bangs escaped from behind her ear and shielded her eyes. "I'm so sorry I fell asleep in your bed."

His fingers tenderly brushed over the smooth skin of her forehead as he tucked her bangs back behind the shell of her ear again, and Jason swallowed quietly before he could speak. "It's not a problem, Elizabeth – it's fine."

"I don't even remember falling asleep," she babbled, still mangling her lower lip. "I didn't mean to – I thought I'd just…sit with you and read for a while and then get out as soon as you fell asleep."

Her cheeks were blooming with soft color again and Jason thought she looked just adorable.

"I guess we must have fallen asleep together," she stammered, not noticing the way his eyes darkened at the mention of them sleeping 'together'. "I-I mean, at the same time. We fell asleep at the same time – we must have."

"Elizabeth." One hand cupped her cheek as Jason forced her to meet his honest gaze. "It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

She accepted it slowly and when Jason could see she had, he relinquished his hold on her back. The brunette pushed herself languidly back up into a sitting position and tucked her hair behind her ears, licking her lips as she searched for something to say that would veer them away from that embarrassing conversation. "So…how do you feel?"

"Not too bad," he answered, rubbing his throat with one strong hand. "My throat's still raw, though."

"You need some tea," she answered affirmatively, already hopping to her feet.

"I don't drink tea."

"You were drinking tea the other day."

"Only because I had to."

"Well, you have to now."

"I don't like tea."

"Oh, yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

Her blue eyes sparkled as she quirked a smile at him and reached for the door. "You'll like it the way I make it," she promised. "With honey and cloves and cardamom and cinnamon – the secret Webber ingredient. Just give me a minute to shower and change and I'll bring you up some breakfast, okay?"

Jason nodded slowly as she left the room, closing the door behind her, and he couldn't help but think that he might be able to get used to this.

The rest of the day passed slowly, and Elizabeth ended up bringing her books into Jason's room and he kept her company while she studied. He was slowly getting better – his fever was mild, he wasn't coughing or wheezing anymore, and he could talk without having his throat feel like it was on fire – and the older man honestly enjoyed her company. Perhaps it was the way she'd crawl onto his bed and sit Indian-style next to him with her notebook computer between them and a book spread out in her lap, but he enjoyed having her so close by.

She managed to convince him to spend the night for yet another time seeing as how he'd just have to come back to work the next morning and there was really no point in his going all the way back to Jake's and then coming all the way back again. Bobbie was perfectly happy to let him open Kelly's a little later than usual, and it was about noon when Jason and Elizabeth both got downstairs. He headed into the kitchen immediately, leaving Elizabeth with her waitress friends, and the girl was instantly cornered. Lisa and Jen jumped on her instantly and Renee was no better, and all three of them teased her mercilessly. Seth came down on his way to a late meeting at the paper, offered her a sympathetic smile, and promptly left before he could be sucked into their girly babblings.

The day passed smoothly; Jason was clearly feeling worlds better after a couple days of being miserable with the flu, and things returned to normal. By the time their shift ended, he was just as cool and collected as he always was – but Elizabeth, on the other hand, was completely exhausted.

Jason smirked when he saw her sitting at a table after closing, her arms crossed over the top and her head buried there. He made quick work of pouring himself a cup of coffee and fixing her the hot chocolate she loved so much, and then he ambled over to her table and sat down. She rolled her head to the side, peeking out at the steaming mug from under a curtain of chocolate silk, and gratefully smiled at him. It took a Herculean effort for the little brunette to raise herself up and sip from the mug.

"Tired, Elizabeth?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, taking a long sip and enjoying the feeling of the cocoa slowly warming its way down to her stomach. "I don't know what's wrong with me – I'm just zapped. So – how are you feeling?"

He couldn't help the small smile that rose to his lips at that. She always thought of others before she thought of herself, and here she was, dead-tired, and still worrying about him. "I'm good. It passed pretty quickly."

"Yeah," she yawned, crossing her arms over the table again and coughing lightly into her elbow. "You have to take care of yourself, though, Mr. I Like To Drive Around On My Bike In Winter In Just A Leather Jacket – for all your lectures on my health, you're sure not looking good yourself."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

"I didn't mean it that way," she huffed, feeling a little cranky. "You do look good."

"Yeah?" Jason knew it was wrong and he knew it would make her angry, but he couldn't help smirking flirtatiously at her. "Good, huh?"

She glared at him. "What I meant was that you don't look healthy."

"So I look…unhealthy."

"Yeah."

"But I do look good."

She tucked her chin into her palm, glaring at her mug. "Stop it."

"Hey, I didn't do anything – you're the one that's sittin' there telling me I look good." His smirk was still firmly in place as he leaned forward, quirking one sandy brow at her. "How good, Elizabeth?"

She could not for the life of her believe that they were having this conversation, and if she wasn't so damn tired she'd be a puddle of mush at his feet. "Stuff it, Morgan," she pouted, frowning at him when he dared to let out a rusty chuckle. "We're not in fifth grade anymore."

He was still smiling at her in that adorable way that she realized she suddenly hated – she hated it because he was being cute and charming and flirty and she was tired and unable to enjoy it.

"Stop looking at me."

The bastard leaned closer, crossing his meaty forearms over the table and gazing at her devilishly. "Why? You look good."

That broke through the wall of her fatigue, and Elizabeth couldn't help laughing as she landed her bare foot on his thigh, kicking him lightly under the table. Jason chuckled back and grabbed her ankle, menacingly at first to scare her, but then surprised her by pulling her leg across his lap. He grabbed her other leg and did the same, then grasped the leg of her chair and pulled it closer to him so that her legs were comfortably sprawled across his lap.

His large hands rested lightly on her knees, burning through the cotton of her loose maroon knee-length skirt, and Elizabeth felt it acutely when his thumb absently stroked her skin under the fabric. "I'm sorry you're so tired."

She could only smile wearily at him, her head still resting on her arms. "There you go again, Morgan."

"What do you mean?"

"-Apologizing for something that's not your fault," she replied softly with a little laugh that sounded more like another cough. "Don't stop, though – that's an admirable habit. One that any girl is lucky to find in her guy." She sighed heavily and tucked her hair behind her ear before clinking her nails against her mug. "All men should apologize more."

"Why?"

"They should apologize for being assholes." He snapped his mouth shut and she glanced quickly at him. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Okay."

"Hey, Jason?"

His fingers tapped a soft beat on her cute little knees. "What?"

"I like having you around."

He couldn't tell if she was serious or just really sleepy and muttering things she had no intention of saying otherwise but regardless, it touched him and brought a little smile to his face. "Thanks."

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily, suddenly finding the gentle flutter of his fingers against her knees very soothing. "You're nice. That's why I like having you around."

"Nice?" He crinkled his nose in a slight grimace. "I know I've never been told that before."

"You should be told that more often," she declared in a voice slurred with weariness. Jason continued to gently rub her knees, unable to stop himself from completing the hypnotic motions, and he noticed that her eyes had fallen shut. "You're very nice. I didn't think you were nice before – you know, before we made out in the kitchen."

He balked slightly at that, surprised that she had said it. They never talked about that anymore, and he hadn't been expecting her to say that. And what was all this about not thinking he was nice before she kissed him? Did she always let guys she didn't think were nice put their hand under her skirt?

"I thought you were too quiet, too grrrrruff." She growled softly in her sleep, sniffling and wiping the sleeve of her soft cotton full-sleeved shirt across her itchy nose. "But you're not. You're nice. Sweet."

He was going to be sick if he heard that word once more coming from her mouth.

"You don't want anything from me, which is nice," she continued to mumble. "You don't want me to help you out with school, you don't want me to help you get in good with some of my friends, you don't want to get in my pants." His eyes flew wide open and Jason just stared at her, this innocent young woman that was half-asleep at a little table with her legs laying across his lap. "And that's nice. I haven't met too many guys that were nice like that."

A long pause lingered between them and he was sure she had fallen asleep until she spoke again, a cross between a whimper and a whisper.

"Jason?"

He leaned closer and dropped his own voice to a whisper. "What?"

"Don't change."

The older man swallowed, unsure of how to answer. "Elizabeth, people do change."

"Not you," she ordered, almost gone entirely into a realm of deep slumber. "Not you, okay?"

"Okay."

She walked into Kelly's after classes with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder, rubbing her red nose with a wadded up tissue. There hadn't been any snowfall in a while now, but the winds were fierce and cut straight through to the bones. Thankfully, spring was just around the corner, no thanks to Mr. Groundhog, and she hoped that things would warm up soon because frankly, she didn't think she could take the frigid temperatures or biting gusts anymore.

The diner only held a few patrons and Jason was able to sit comfortably behind the counter with a mug of his no-strings-attached coffee. He tipped his head at her when she walked in, and Elizabeth set down her stuff and shuffled over to the counter.

Jason set down his mug and hopped off the counter on which he had been sitting. "You look terrible."

She pouted at him, batting her long raven lashes and honestly having no idea what that innocent little gesture did to him. "I thought you told me I looked good last night."

He smirked and she smirked back, and then the brunette busied herself making some hot chocolate to combat the late-winter temperatures. Jason watched her lazily, his own thoughts drifting back to last night. Yeah, she had looked good. She had looked damn good – in his arms as he carried her slumbering form up to bed. Her hair was mussed and had fallen into her face, and she had wound her arms around his neck and burrowed into his chest as he slowly climbed the stairs up to her room. Good wasn't even close to describing what she had looked like.

"It's so freaking cold out there," she muttered, somewhat irritated and cranky. "I hate the cold. I hate the snow."

"No, you don't," he chuckled, remembering that one snowball fight in the park where she had flown into his arms, crying for him to save her from a bunch of six-year olds armed with snowballs. "You love the snow."

"You're right," she conceded with a sigh, now somewhat irritated that he was right and she was wrong – about her own feelings, no less. "I do like the snow."

"Here – let me do that. You go sit." Jason took the mug from her and continued to stir the hot cocoa in, and then slipped it into the microwave and nuked it for another minute. "Hungry?"

"I want cheese fries."

Jason frowned at her as she slumped onto the stool. She honestly didn't look that good – she was pale and her nose was bright red, and she looked as tired as she did last night when she had asked him never to change. If anything, the little brunette needed something healthy – a real meal. "Elizabeth, let me get you some chili and a salad or something. Do you want a sandwich? –I can make you that."

"Cheese fries."

"How about pancakes?" he asked, playing his Trump card. She had never been able to refuse his pancakes – she begged him to make her some every morning before she ran off to school. This morning, however, she had grabbed a cup of milk and a PowerBar and shuffled out the door. "I'll make you some pancakes."

She considered it, but then when that stubborn pout fell back in place on her glossed made-to-be-kissed lips, he knew he had lost. "Cheese fries, Jason."

"Fine," he sighed. "Cheese fries."

She sipped her cocoa languidly as he fixed her what she wanted, her bright sapphire eyes never leaving his strong form. Despite the fact that he was moving with the same energy that he always did, she could faintly make out the circles under his eyes. "You okay, Jason?"

He nodded briskly, dumping the fries on a plate and sliding them over to her. "Yeah, fine."

"You look tired," she continued, cocking her head at him as she played with a fry. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

He eyed her humorlessly, quirking a brow at her mother-hen tendencies that he feared had even begun to rival those of his aunt, and then scrubbed a hand over his face. "No. The music was blaring all night long and I didn't catch a wink."

She was frowning sadly as she licked cheese off of her fingers, suckling them thoughtfully and not noticing the way Jason cringed and quickly averted his gaze. "You shouldn't have to put up with that, Jason."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not that bad."

"You still have headaches?"

The older man didn't answer and Elizabeth leaned forward, her lips pursed. "I said, do you still have headaches?"

Jason rolled his eyes and tipped his head to the side in reluctant admission, causing her to frown. "Oh, Jason, and that music doesn't make it any better, does it?" She glared down at her French fries and scooped up a glob of cheese with her finger. "You know what?"

He eyed her blandly. "What?"

"Don't get mad at me for this," she warned, wagging a finger at him. "But I think you should move into Kelly's."

"Elizabeth," he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "We've had this talk before-"

"Hear me out, Morgan," she interrupted, letting the tip of her tongue dart out and flick her sticky index finger. Inadvertently, that little move seized his attention immediately and she continued, completely unaware of the way he had zeroed in on her tongue and finger. "Look, you've told me yourself that you're pretty close to getting enough money to get the garage back up. You've got some saved, and you're in the process of finalizing that loan from the bank. You're not going to be working here much longer, Jason – you'll be able to do what you really do."

He nodded reluctantly, knowing where she was headed and knowing that it made sense.

"So why not move over here and spend the rest of that time in peace?" Her sapphire eyes arrested him, not allowing him to just brush the suggestion off. "You'd save the rent on Jake's, meaning you could save more, and you'd be so close that you really wouldn't be spending much on gas for the bike, either – lemme guess, it guzzles."

"Like a Diesel," he admitted, scratching his chin.

"Think about it this way," she offered, bracing her fingertips on the slick counter. "If you move into Kelly's, it only means that you'll be moving into the garage sooner."

He hadn't quite thought of it in those terms before and though he hated to admit it, the idea made sense financially and it was even a bit appealing. Besides being so close to work and not having to put up with the hassles that came with living at Jake's, moving into Kelly's – temporarily – would mean that he would be closer to Elizabeth.

"Tell you what," he started, bracing his strong arms on the countertop that separated them. "I'll make you a deal."

She was eyeing him curiously. "What?"

"You put down those fries and let me get you some real food, and I'll seriously consider it."

"Done deal, Morgan."

The following day was her day off, and Elizabeth had to spend most of it at the studio with her uncooperative painting. It was the same one of the dancing couple. She had been trying so hard to create a mood of passion and angst and longing and forbidden desire and all that good stuff that trashy, borderline pornographic romance novels were made of, but it just wasn't working. Instead of looking as if they were passionately lunging at each other in the dance, unable to handle even the slightest distance between their desperate bodies, her dancers looked like they were…hugging.

It was too platonic and too soft – it didn't have the kick that she was looking for. The fire. The spark. The raw energy that would damn near set her paintbrush on fire once she captured it. And so after spending hours working to make it better and failing, Elizabeth had no choice but to take the painting off the easel and set it on the sidelines. She knew she had to start anew, to start fresh, but she had only just gotten the canvas stretched out over the frame before she decided that enough was enough – she was tired, she was feeling crappy and cranky, and she wanted a pick-me-up.

So she decided to go underwear shopping.

And after treating herself to a dinner that consisted of a giant pretzel off a cart – Jason would have her hide if he ever found out – and spending an insane amount of hours perusing various undie styles, Elizabeth staggered back to her room at Kelly's, laden down with several pink bags bulging with pink scented tissue and more underwear than she knew what to do with.

Her boots clomped on the steps and she tried to be quiet, knowing that it was after closing and that some of her friends were probably trying to get some shut eye before their big day the following morning – like Seth, who had an interview with a big New York politician scheduled and had already thrown up three times in the past four days just thinking about it.

But she had just reached the top of the landing when she saw something that made her do a double-take. A sliver of golden light fell across the green carpet of the hall, coming from the room right next to hers. The room that Jason had used when he had been ill. Curious to see if they had a new boarder in their midst, Elizabeth hurried up to the door and knocked.

In a few seconds, the door opened and Elizabeth was surprised to see Jason staring back at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she blinked, trying to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Jason?"

He tossed her a half-shrug and then pulled the door open. "Come on in."

"You're living here now?" She couldn't help but indulge the small smile that crept to her lips at the thought that he had listened to what she said and had considered it carefully.

The tall mechanic nodded slowly. "Yeah, I figured I might as well. You were right – I am saving on rent and gas, which I didn't think would be that big but once I looked at the numbers, it is. And it's quieter than Jake's, which is good, since I should probably be rested when it comes time to getting my place set up again."

She nodded in response, remembering how he had told her that he was designing the garage himself this time. Max already had the rudimentary floor plans and as soon as those were complete, Jason would be down there with the workers checking on the electrical wiring and a plethora of other things. "Yeah, yeah."

"It's just temporary, though," he clarified as she loosened her jacket, suddenly feeling very warm. "I'm not going to be staying any longer than I have to."

"Oh, of course not," she replied in an admittedly patronizing tone as she undid her buttons. "I never pictured you living in a place with flowers on the windowsills, anyway."

He glared at her wryly and moved back to the dresser where he had been unpacking his clothes from a duffel bag. Setting her bags on the floor by his bed, she moved to stand behind him, monitoring his work.

"You moved today?"

He kept moving, placing his neatly folded clothes into the appropriate drawer. "Yeah."

"Didn't you need some help?" she asked, her hands on her hips. "You could have called me. I would have helped."

Jason glanced up at her, noticing for the first time that her cheeks were flushed. "You? No thanks, Elizabeth."

Her brows furrowed in irritation and she glared at the back of his head. "Why not? If you've got something to say, Morgan, say it!" He didn't bite, but she could tell he was smirking which only made her madder. "What? Is it because you think I'm weak?"

His shoulders shook with repressed laughter and she wanted to kick him – wanted to land her leather-boot-clad foot square in the middle of his broad and muscular and oh-so-yummy back.

"I'm not weak!"

"I didn't say you were," he reminded her, pitching the duffel bag to the side and grabbing the other one that held mostly books and a few other personal effects like his shaving kit.

"You were thinking it!"

There was no denial.

"I knew it!" she seethed, her cheeks flaring up. "I'm not weak, Jason Morgan! I've got muscles, too, you know."

"I'm sure you do."

"Yeah, I do! So quit being Mr. Macho with me." She stomped her foot on the carpet and Jason turned around, still seated on the floor. Even though he thought she was wicked cute when she was angry, she had been more irritable and choleric since yesterday than she had been the whole time he'd known her. "I hate it when guys act all macho. I hate it."

Jason's brows furrowed with concern when he noticed again how red she was and how her eyes were slightly hazy. He had just stood up from his crouching position when Elizabeth, unprepared for the wave of vertigo that unexpectedly washed over her, stumbled over her own feet and almost pitched to the floor. Instantly, his strong arms were around her, anchoring her to his hard form, refusing to let her fall.

She whimpered and clutched his shirt, trying to make the ground stop tilting. She was feeling hot and light-headed and fuzzy, and she didn't like it one bit. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You're hot," he growled, cupping one palm to her cheek and scowling when her warmth seared through his palm. "Great – I got you sick, too."

"Yeah, what's wrong with you?" she glowered back, less than pleased when he had to help her stand upright by bringing her crashing against his chest. His warm and yummy and lickable chest. "That's not a nice thing to do to a girl. I take back what I said about you being nice. You're un-nice."

He sighed heavily, watching her press a hand to her forehead and attempt to push out of his hold. She didn't even make it a step before she wobbled precariously again, and Jason quickly reached out and braced one arm behind her back and another behind her knees, effectively scooping her up off the floor.

"Put me down," she ordered weakly even as her head fell to rest on his shoulder. Jason shifted her tiny body in his arms, pressing his cheek down to her forehead like he had seen her do before.

"No."

"Put me down."

"Elizabeth, you're sick," he informed her, trying to reach for his doorknob without jostling her. "I'm taking you to bed."

She was quiet for a minute and then her finger poked him in the chest. "You're not 'upposed to say it like that."

He took her keys from her hand and fumbled for the right one, only half-listening to what she was mumbling about. "Hm?"

"You're supposed to say it in a low voice, a growl – I'm taking you to bed. Grrrrrrrr. Come on, Jason – be sexy."

If it had been any other woman in his arms, he would have laughed. But it wasn't – it was Elizabeth, and she was tired and sick and still managing to turn him on.

"I'm very sexy," he couldn't help but inform her as he managed to get her door to open.

She was frowning against his t-shirt, still miffed that he wouldn't growl for her like she asked him to. "I don't think so."

That stopped him and Jason stood still, a foot from her bed, as she pouted into his chest, rubbing the heel of her hand over her runny nose. No, of course she didn't find him sexy. That was why she didn't give a damn one way or another when he was half-naked in the same room with her; that was why she hadn't been mortified but only worried about costing him a good night's sleep when she had woken up in his bed. No, of course Elizabeth Webber didn't think he was sexy.

Jason braced her across his strong thigh as he tugged the comforter down, and then he shifted his hold on her and tenderly laid her down. Her eyes were half-closed as he managed to get her to roll out of her jacket, and then he took off her shoes and socks and peeled off the coarse, glittery purple sweater she wore, biting back a groan at the thin baby tee she wore underneath, showcasing a perfect set of breasts and absolutely no bra. Before he could do something he'd regret, Jason pulled the comforter on over her, not trusting himself even to remove her jeans. They were soft and worn – she'd be comfortable sleeping in them, he hoped.

Her lashes fluttered as she snuggled down under the comforter, whimpering softly, and her innocent expression tugged on Jason's heart. Slowly, he knelt down beside her and brushed her hair out of her face. Her full lips were painted in a pale rose-colored matte lipstick and had fallen partly open, and he gently swept his thumb across her mangled bottom lip.

Sucking in his breath, he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, silently promising her that he'd take good care of her, just like she had taken good care of him.