Happy Wednesday everyone! I understand they are trying to keep spoilers to a minimum, but I'm itching for more BTS photos/tidbits. I just need JLS to post one Upstead photo. Just one. Alright, enough from me. Happy reading.

Hailey

The last time we were up at the cabin, right before Jay's academy graduation, the sky was so blue, and the pine needles smelled like heaven. We took the canoe out on the lake, just the two of us, but we ended up losing the oars. So, we just floated, and the sun was warm and strong, and we were so, so happy. I can still hear the sound of the two of us laughing as we tried to steer the canoe back to the dock.

I feel that way now. I feel happy, like I'm back on the lake – because I feel like I'm floating, sort of.

"Do you think we should get breakfast?" Jay murmurs, his voice bringing me back to the present.

Jay is on his back, his arm around me, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on my hip. I'm pressed to his side, cheek on his shoulder, my leg over his, my fingertips floating absently across the skin of his chest. But at his question, I press in and curl my body deeper into him.

Truth be told, I'm absolutely famished. But right now? it's just us tangled in each other with cozy blankets and nothing else. I can't recall ever feeling this way, so eager to surrender, not even the very first time we were together. So I'm not quite ready to leave this safe little bubble we've created.

To communicate all of this, I mumble, "Mmm."

His body shakes with an inaudible chuckle, and he rolls into me, so we are both on our sides, face to face. His hand drifts up and down my back and his voice is soft when he asks, "If you want, I can go get us breakfast. You can stay here."

My arm around him gets tighter and I say, "I don't want you to go anywhere."

His hand stops drifting, and he holds tighter before whispering, "Breakfast can wait then."

I dip my chin, pressing my face in his chest and his hands start drifting again, one gliding up to play with my hair, the other lightly trailing down my spine, over my exposed skin where my tank top ends, and my underwear begins. Soon his gentle fingers are joined by soft lips and scratchy stubble as he nudges me so that I'm lying on my stomach. He presses a line of kisses across my shoulder blade, working his way from my spine, out to the tip of my shoulder.

After a few delicious moments, I turn to face him, looking into his wild eyes.

"Your eyes look really blue right now," I say.

"Really?" he asks as a smile crooks on the left side of his mouth. "Let's see."

He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his phone. Flipping over so he's on his back by my side. He pulls up the camera and turns it around so we can see our faces. I, of course, notice my wild mane of blond hair and the flushed nature of my cheeks.

But there's Jay, smiling up at the camera.

Both our eyes are sleepy and soft, but happy in the early morning light.

"You're right," he says and snaps a picture unexpectedly and I laugh. Then he quickly snaps another and another.

"Stop!" I protest, just as he presses his lips to my temple, snapping yet another.

"I can't," he says loudly as his fingers move to tickle my stomach. The nerve. My nose scrunches as laughter bubbles from my chest and he continues snapping selfies of the two of us. "It's the modern age, Hailey, and every precious moment must be documented!"

"Jay!" I squeal as his fingers dig into my side. I'm out of breath, worming my way away from his treacherous fingers. "You know I hate being tickled!"

"But it produces the most adorable crinkles on your nose," he says as I straddle him, my knees resting on either side of the bed on both sides of his hips, giving him pause.

"You're in trouble," I say.

"Oh."

I lean forward, balancing all my weight into his hands. He grabs my wrists, smiling up at me. Slowly I bring my nose to his and my hair cascades down around us, casting us in our own cocoon. He studies me, so I study him in return. The rise and fall of his chest muscles, his sharp jawline, the scruff on his face, and his sleep-rumpled hair.

I bring my lips to his cheek. Softly, I brush them over his skin, letting that reality sink in. This is real. And good. Maybe too good?

We stay tangled in each other – kissing, laughing, hands and eyes roaming – and it's become something of a morning routine. It's almost like we want to make up for the lost time. Part of me feels the pace we are setting is right, safe. But another part of me, the part that's been on autopilot, is straining to regain control. I can't shake the feeling and a queasy feeling rises in my stomach, causing my heart to hurt.

I think Jay notices these thoughts ripple across my face. He narrows his eyes and asks, "What's up?"

I lean away, sucking in a breath. "You can tell?"

"I know you." The gentle smile that curves his lips challenges me to try to deny and hide from him. "What is it?"

I reach up to touch his face. I don't want him to think for a second that I'm not happy with him. The truth is that I'm happier than I have been in a long time. I feel alive and hopeful for the first time in longer than I can remember. But I can't seem to ignore the little voice inside my head – my supposedly good sense – whispering that I should consider the pace of our relationship.

"Talk to me, Hailey."

I look up just in time to catch his grin and the tender look in his eyes. I grin, too.

"Tell me what's going on in your head," he insists, leaning into my hand that is still cupping his cheek. I can feel how desperately he wants me to open up to him.

"Hailey...?"

I hesitate and ask quietly, "Do you think we're moving too fast?"

He remains silent for a moment considering my question. "I know we agreed to take things slow, and I have every intention of doing that." He looks away, but there's a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. "But it's just so easy between us, and it's always been like this." Jay bends his head so his forehead is touching mine and he is whispering when he adds, "But we can tap the breaks if you want."

"No," I shake my head. "That's not what I want."

"Okay, so how can we fix it?"

"Maybe there's nothing to fix. Maybe it's just me overthinking. Forget I said anything," I say dismissively.

"Hey, hey…." he says. "If there's a part of you that feels we're moving a little fast, then we slow it down. It's not a big deal."

I bite my lower lip, trying to put the emotions I've been struggling with into words. "Look, everything that happens in your past defines who you are. I just think that, maybe..." I hesitate. "There's too much darkness in my past – in me. And it sucks away all the chances at real happiness. So, whenever there's something real and good in my life, my brain waits for the other shoe to drop. And—"

"—Slowing it down would delay it," he finishes.

I nod.

Jay traces a finger down my face, trailing down the side of my neck, then, brings his lips to mine. Gentle. Soft. Understanding. I'm not sure that the feeling of his lips on mine like this will ever stop catching me off guard.

I hope it doesn't.

"Hailey, please believe me. I'm not going anywhere. You're it for me. The other shoe is not dropping," he says, sliding his hand innocently down my waist, his palm resting against my bare hip. "I'm staying for as long as you'll have me. Can't see myself ever finding anyone else I fit with."

"You're the one and only person I fit with, too."

He captures my mouth sweetly with his. Very softly at first, letting our lips touch again and again, and then he deepens the kiss, opening my mouth with little nudges. Our breathing picks up and I hear him let out a small moan, but then he slows the kiss and pulls away. He takes one of my curls around my face and wraps it around his finger. I watch him as he touches my hair and whisper, "So, let's take a step back… How about we get out of this bed and I take you on a second date."

"Another fancy restaurant?"

"I was thinking something different."

Now it's my turn to search his face. "Are you getting fancier on me?"

"I wouldn't say fancier, but…" he lets the sentence go unfinished. "There will be no food involved."

"Okay…" I say intrigued, and a grin appears on my lips of its own accord. He kisses it gently.

"Now, do you think we'll ever get sick of each other?" I ask.

His chuckle is audible this time and he gives me a light squeeze before he says, "Not a chance." Both his arms tighten around me, and he pulls me up, so my head is on a pillow by his. "But, if that happens, at the very least, we won't have to worry about starving to death, which is a serious possibility right now."

"Worth it."

x

After breakfast (more like brunch), Jay takes me on our second date. He's pretty mum about the location. But the air in the car is bristling with excitement and the eager energy radiating from him is palpable. He looks like a little kid on Christmas day, and it is making me very excited too, which in turn piques my curiosity.

"Can I get a clue?"

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, flashing me his expansive boyish grin. "We're almost there. Maybe another five minutes?" When I jut my bottom lip out, he adds, "If I say anything you'll immediately get it. And what's the fun in that?"

"Oh, c'mon. Just one word."

"What do you mean one word?"

"Just… tell me one word associated with the location."

Jay shakes his head, flashing a sideways glance at me before focusing on the road ahead.

I beam him my biggest and brightest smile. "One word. Please."

He chuckles softly. "Okay…" He thinks for a moment. "Brass."

I think for half a second. "SHOOTING RANGE!"

"See? What's the fun in that?"

"You know how long it's been since I've been to the shooting range, other than for recertification? Years."

Jay is shaking his head, but I know he is not mad. I think he is actually more excited now that I can fully share his excitement. I'm bouncing in my seat nearly as much as him now.

As we pull up, I can tell this is a state-of-the-art shooting range (unlike the ones CPD has us requalify). Inside, everything is so sleek and sophisticated, like a set from Homeland. Jay informs we get to shoot in a closed range and that gets me even more excited. We are escorted to a private booth, which has a touchpad to control the target and I also notice there is a climate-controlled air unit that takes out the gunpowder smell.

"This is fancy," I say with a lot of excitement in my voice, to the point where it is too loud.

Jay chuckles. "You are adorable." He leans down and kisses my lips. "I'll be right back."

Jay leaves and comes back with a Sig Sauer P226 pistol. I've fired this particular gun before. It's heavy, loud, and with a huge kickback.

"I thought we should start with a nine-millimeter," Jay says. "This Sig Sauer is slightly customized, though. You'll see."

"Alright. Go ahead. Break it in," I say.

Jay sends the target out ten feet, and we plug in our ears. He moves his neck side to side, shrugs his shoulders, and drops them down as he widens his stance. All his attention focused on the sights on the gun, then he lets out a slow breath and fires. Six times. Absorbing the hard recoil of the gun. I watch him fire and I'm sure we're going to make this a competition, without openly making it a competition.

As usual, Jay's shots are fast and deliberate, not to mention accurate. He punches a button and the target returns. He'd clustered his shots, pretty damn perfectly. He turns to me with a smug look on his face and I give him two thumbs up.

"Not bad. I wouldn't frame it, though," I say teasingly.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Okay. How about I give it another go."

He sends the target back twenty feet and proceeds to further decimate the target in the exact same spot. After he fires another few rounds, he turns back and says, "Here, you try it."

I nod and take the Glock from him. "This is heavier than it looks," I note surprised.

"There are still nine rounds in the clip. It definitely weighs it down." He comes to stand next to me. "Watch out for the slide."

"Did it come back hard and snap forward? Yeah, I know." I wink at him and turn to face the target with the gun comfortably in my left hand, my right cradling the weight at the base of the grip. I widen my stance a little and slide my index finger against the trigger.

Behind me, Jay's voice rumbles, "You know what? I think I should help you."

He comes to stands directly behind me, his arms along my side, fingers skimming my waist. It sends a trillion of nicely chilling goosebumps all over my body. I know what he is doing. He adjusts my stance, then brushes my hair to one side and then his mouth finds my neck and he places feather-light kisses beneath my ear. My eyes drift shut of their own accord when I feel his breath ghost across my skin.

"You've got to keep your eyes open, Hailey," he says in my ear, earning himself a laugh and confirmation that yes, my eyes were closed. "It doesn't do you any good at all if you can't see where you're aiming."

I rein in my amusement at his antics.

"The secret is calming your mind and breathing. If you start anticipating the blast, you lose your focus and your accuracy suffers."

When I feel him bite my ear, I can't stifle the pleasurable gasp that escapes my lips. I'm not easily distracted, especially with a gun in hand, but he knows exactly which of my buttons to push. It's not fair. I blink several times, trying to kick start my brain, pulling me from the physical thoughts that have no place on a shooting range.

"You're blowing my concentration."

"Your concentration should be on the target," he whispers from behind me, and I can hear a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"You're trying to distract me."

"What? I'm just standing here, giving you some sage advice," he says matter-of-factly.

I turn to look at him and his eyes roam warmly over my face, pausing a moment at the base of my neck, where his lips were seconds ago, leaving a trail of awareness wherever they linger.

"Like I said. Distracting."

He chuckles, running his tongue along his bottom lip, his eyes holding mine for what seems like forever. I bump him with my hip, trying to put a bit of distance between us so that I can find my equilibrium again. I turn to square my shoulder with the target and fire. The blast from the gun helps drown him out. I continue to fire and the recoil doesn't surprise me as much as the empty shells hitting the side wall like little rockets. Out in the open, they wouldn't hit anything but ricochet all over the place.

When I empty the mag, Jay pulls my target forward. Most of my shots hit right in the center. Despite himself, Jay smiles. He knows my short rang game is impeccable, even with distractions.

"Good shots."

I nod, reload, and send the target out twenty feet. I raise the barrel, line up the target in my sight, and pull the trigger again. After a few more rounds, Jay touches my shoulder.

"Wait a sec."

"What?" I glance up at him.

He points to my thumb. "Flesh wound."

"What?" I'm surprised to see blood on my knuckle. It's not a bad cut, but it's pretty obvious I'd gotten in the path of the slide.

Jay nods, examining the wound. "It's not bad." He meets my eyes and a slow smug grin spreads across his face. "Rookie mistake."

I shake my head and roll my eyes at his slow, teasing grin. "You're terrible."

"Just keep your grip a little lower," he adds, winking and giving my shoulder a squeeze. "See the little ridges right here? That's your guide," he adds, teasing me further with a smile on his face.

"Ha-ha."

"Still want to keep shooting?"

I nod and raise the gun again. "Definitely."

We spend most of the afternoon at the range, trying various other weapons, even older Smith & Wesson models. But in the end, his distractions and silly diversions prove to be quite effective. I tried distracting him too, and it worked only briefly, but Jay got a few better shots than me. His sniper training probably giving him a slight edge over me.

"You win," I say.

"Ah," he sighs. "Can you say that again? I want to record it."

I throw him a glance as I roll up my target. "Don't tell me you're still a gloater."

"A gloater? Don't tell me you're still a sore loser."

"I was never a sore loser. We are evenly matched. That is when you are not distracting me."

"I did no such thing," he says and wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close, my back to his front; it's perfect. He places a gentle kiss on my temple and rests his chin against my shoulder. Spinning around, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. After a few heartbeats, I pull back, resting my forehead against his. I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, feeling happy.

"Thank you,' I whisper, wrapping my arms tighter around his waist before resting my head on his shoulder. "This was an awesome date."

He hugs me tighter, also whispering, "Thank you for agreeing to a second date with me."

"Looking forward to our third date," I say. "The bar is really high."

He chuckles. "Maybe we'll do Netflix and Chill next." He arches one of his brows in that way he has which makes me crazy. "How does that sound?"

"I say it sounds very good."

He bends down and gives me a quick kiss that becomes a not-so-quick kiss. But then my stomach wrecks it by grumbling. Jay pulls away.

"Let's get out of here and get some food."

We decide to make dinner instead of ordering takeout. I opt for a Greek-style roasted Lamb, feeling slightly nostalgic. I'm washing and peeling the vegetables and deseeding the tomatoes, while Jay trims the lamb and lines up the spices. As we cook, music plays softly in the background; we take turns stealing kisses and taking sips of wine. Jay wanted to invite Will and his new lady friend over, but once again I wanted nothing intruding on our little bubble.

Soon, the lamb is bubbling steadily and while we wait for it to cook, we sit on the couch with the television on. Jay sits at one end and I rest my head on his lap and stretch out along the couch. Jay strokes my hair and I close my eyes and sigh.

"This is the problem with being happy," I say. "I bet we'll never go out anymore."

Jay looks at me closely. "We were just at the shooting range. What? You bored with me already? I thought you said we had an awesome date."

I laugh. "It's just that we're already back to cooking dinner, watching TV..."

"Do you want to go out? We can go out every day if you want," he says.

"I'm perfectly happy here," I say, but Jay insists.

"We can go out. Just say the word—"

I push myself up and kiss his lips. "This is good, I promise."

Jay pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me, his hands automatically finding their spot, one on the nape of my neck and the other on my lower back. His lips meet mine, kissing me softly, sweetly, lingering. Shivers run down my spine and I can feel the familiar heat build and pool low in my belly. I get totally lost, even more so when he pulls me onto his lap.

Straddling him, I raise an eyebrow. "The food?"

"Five minutes," he says against my lips.

Our kisses become more urgent, feverish, and hungry. He runs his hands slowly up my thighs and plants them on my hips, keeping me in place. I get dizzy – with his kisses, with his familiar scent, with the sound of his breathing and the little moans that escape me, and I have never wanted anyone as much as I want him.

We keep kissing until neither of us feels like we can breathe unless we pull apart. I rest my head against his chest, listening to the thudding of his heart, matching my own beat.

"I think the Lamb is ready," I say, as the delicious aroma wafts through my sense, making my stomach growl and my mouth water.

"I think so, too," he says, giving me little kisses all over my forehead, just above my scar, and cheeks. My breathing quickens and I am getting so distracted that if I do not pull away – very gently – my stomach might protest again. So, I extract myself from him and lend him a hand to pull him up and off the couch.

We eat dinner, making small talk about work, and food, and the fact that Will has a new lady friend. We talk about our feelings, about the changes that have occurred in the last few days, and the fact that we both think we're dreaming. In between words we kiss and laugh and touch each other– a knee squeeze, an arm stroke, a playful jab. It feels domestic and right and it has my heart feeling so full in a wonderful, warm ache. Right at this moment, I know I've been giving a second chance at life.

After dinner, we clean up, and chaste kisses in the shower turn into...more. It seems we can't get enough of each other. With each movement, with each passing moment, we are rediscovering more and more. It all seems to get better and better. Then we take our time soaping each other and Jay is very thorough, kissing my skin until all the suds disappear.

Later in bed, I lie awake for a while. It's strange, I reflect, being happy like this. New, but still familiar. The floating feeling returns, as if my feet aren't quite touching the ground, as if nothing is really real. Then it dawns on me, that Jay and I are just floating, together. Not fast. Not slow.

There is no pace.

We just are.

Thank you for reading. Comments/critiques? All are welcomed. Next week will begin calling back to 5x18, but with a twist (aka Hailey whump). See you then!