CHAPTER ELEVEN: WHAT'S IN A NAME?

Hearts will skip a beat
Pulse will quicken
Lighter on your feet
Just a feeling
Falling in repeat
Love is a made-up word

( Love is a Made-Up Word, Hush Kids )

WEDNESDAY
JASPER

It's a bit of a walk to the northern barn, ten minutes walking fast, maybe fifteen with Alice's short-legged pace. We take the footwarn path past that curves around the smaller of the two nearby ponds then downhill all the way. We eventually meet back up with the dirt road that'll take us straight to the north barn. We go slow. Take our time; stretch ten to fifteen and fifteen to thirty. We keep up with this nervous sort of banter, pointless words bouncing back and forth with no real purpose except erasing the silence. I'm grateful for noise, whatever it is. Focusing on conversation means I can't focus on the persistent aching in my chest.

I diligently keep my distance, leaving enough room for the elephant in the room to stand right between us. I have to focus on it, too. Every so often Alice will catch my attention with a story or a glance and I find myself wandering in her direction. One blink and I'm at her side, a second away from doing something ridiculous like holding her hand. I have to force myself away time after time, meandering back and forth like I'm incapable of walking a straight line.

I tell her about my morning running errands in town, but even with mentioning my multiple stops for coffee, the whole story takes only a minute. I'm worried when an awkward quiet threatens to hang between us again, but Alice takes the reins, telling me all about her schedule for tomorrow. In fact, she tells me in such great detail that I almost lose track of what we're talking about. When Alice is finished regaling her plans for tomorrow, she goes on to tell me everything she hopes to get done before Sunday. I notice - with much scrutiny - that Alice doesn't once mention scheduling in a bit of fun. I'll have to remedy that.

I open my mouth to question her, but snap it shut when that featherlight voice of hers sounds again.

"And then I'm off. Back to the real world," she finishes.

This is the real world, I think, looking around at the abundant nature around us. More real a world than your concrete island. I've never been there, but I'm already forming some rather strong opinions on New York. I don't like it. I don't like anything that takes Alice away from me. I don't like the reminder that New York is preferable to here in Alice's eyes, especially when that admission comes straight from her mouth.

"And then you're off," I echo.

"It's going to be weird going back to the city," Alice sighs. "It's going to feel too loud. Too hectic. Too …"

"Concrete?"

"Yes," she replies with diluted delight. "I'm going to miss this place, despite all the crazy of the past few days. All the open space, and the animals, and -"

"You can come back anytime you'd like, Alice," I blurt out too soon. If I'd waited just a second longer, maybe she would've said me. I could've heard it, straight from the angel's mouth: she'd miss me.

Alice quiets beside me. "I make no promises, but … I'd like that," she gently says. "This place just grows on you. I mean, I could do without the dirt and the humidity, but everything else …" she looks to me, blue eyes searching my face. "If I could drop this place right in the middle of New York I'd never leave."

And there it is again. The core of our problem. New York freakin' City. What's so special about the place anyways? The smog? The street meat? The over-priced, crappy apartments? I think bitterly.

"It's just - it's home, you know?"

My entire demeanour softens. I do know. Of course I know. I wouldn't give up my home for anything on this planet. I have no right to begrudge Alice for feeling the same way about hers.

I nod my head and smile, swallowing down any disappointment lingering from our conversation earlier tonight. "I get it," I tell her. "Like I said - you don't ever have to explain yourself to me." After a beat, I add: "besides, I've always liked a woman who knows her mind."

Alice ducks her head, lips pulling into a dainty smile. "That's the one thing I know," she mumbles. I pretend not to hear.

"Tell me more," I say, "tell me about home. You said you have a brother, right?"

"I do. His name is Edward," Alice reminds me.

"Ah, yes - the old soul," I quip.

Alice chuckles meekly. "That's the one. Edward is two years younger than me, but about fifty feet taller. He's in school right now. Studying music. Composition, actually." Alice lists off facts about her brother one by one, like she's going through a practiced checklist. "He's dating my best friend, which sounds like hell, but they're literally perfect for each other so it's hard to complain. Besides - I've always had a feeling that Bella would be part of the family one day. I thought it'd just be by proxy, but having a sister-in-law would be so much better."

I go to ask Alice another question - about her parents this time - but Alice pipes up before I can utter a word. She's got a knack for that - steering a conversation in whichever direction she sees fit. "Did you ever go to college? Like Rose?" Alice asks, expertly turning the spotlight back on me.

I raise a curious brow at the woman beside me. "You really don't like talkin' about yourself, do you?"

She forces a humourless breath of laughter and shrugs her shoulders. "I uh, I like learning about other people," Alice explains, shooting me a quick and rather unconvincing smile. "That, and I find you kind of fascinating."

That's hard to argue. I clear my throat, and answer her question. "Yeah, I did. Just at the local community college, but I went. Graduated, too." An involuntary smile spreads across my face at the memory of my time spent in college, the only two years of my life I've spent focusing on anything other than this ranch.

"What did you study?"

"Business," I answer. "Borin' as hell, but vital if you're gonna get into somethin' like this. I took some classes in other things, too." Alice looks at me, waiting for more. I let out an embarrassed huff of laughter, looking down to the ground. "You know, like, history. Philosophy," I shyly admit. Those were courses I paid for out of my own pocket - my dad saw them as unnecessary. Frivolous.

"Philosophy?" Alice questions. "That sounds pretty interesting. More interesting than business, if you ask me."

"I liked it," I tell her, feeling oddly validated by her admission. "Probably would've picked it as a focus, you know, if I had any say in it."

Alice startles to a stop beside me.

"What?" I ask, turning to face her standing still as a statue beside me.

"You had no say in all this?"

I want to laugh at the woman's naivety. "No," I say, "not really. Call it a family tradition."

"But Rose got to -"

"Rosalie is her own woman," I interject. "She made it loud 'n clear from a very young age that the family business was not in her plan. Rose was going to do what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it."

"I can certainly appreciate that," Alice says, blinking away the last of her surprise. "But what about you? Wouldn't that give you the right to make the same choice?"

"Not necessarily," I reply. "It didn't leave much room for me to do the same. Someone had to stay behind to help out. Someone had to be here to take over, you know? To inherit the place." I clear my throat, not wanting to linger on the resentment that bubbles in my stomach when I think of the obligation surrounding my life. I love my job, I love my family, I love the ranch - that's all Alice needs to know.

Alice nods, mouth pursed. We resume walking.

"What about you?" I ask, trying Alice's own tactic. Maybe if I follow her lead - if I just keep throwing different questions in her direction - something will get her talking. "I'm guessin' you went to school for all this? Fashion 'n design 'n -"

The woman beside me chortles and shakes her head, brows furrowing together. "I didn't go to school for this," Alice clarifies. "I didn't actually go to college at all."

I try not to look as shocked as I am.

"I uh -" Alice begins, eyes darting down to the ground. She tucks her hair behind her ears, revealing more of her nervous smile. "School was never really my thing."

"So how'd you get into this?" I ask.

Alice sighs. "It's a long story," she admits. "Not very entertaining, either."

"I'd like to hear it."

I expect Alice to come up with some clever, possibly monosyllabic answer. Either that, or she'll ignore me altogether and find some new topic to ask me about. Alice does neither. Instead, she powers forward.

"Well, I got an internship," Alice begins. "I was sixteen. It was the summer before my junior year of high school. I applied to work with this big-wig design firm behind my parents' backs, never actually thinking I'd get it, but I did. And - well - I started working a few days later. It was all just running coffees and making copies at first, but it was a job in the industry. So I worked my ass off, made as many connections as I could, snuck my drawings in between other designers' portfolios -" we both chuckle at that " - and by the end of the summer, they offered me a real, paying position." Alice smiles a little. "I was just an illustrator, but everyone starts somewhere."

I can only nod my head in response before Alice continues. "I tried balancing the job and school for awhile, but, you know, the passion I had for my job won out time and time again. Every minute of my day was dedicated to the work I was doing. So … I fell behind in school. Eventually, I dropped out altogether - to do the work I was meant to be doing full time."

"And your … family was okay with that?" I ask apprehensively, noting how Alice mentioned parents (multiple) despite having lost her mother. There's a story there, I think.

Alice laughs heartily. "No," she says. "My parents were … far less than thrilled. But I just - I wasn't going to let them stop me. I decided that if they wanted to throw me out on the street for being a frivolous idiot, then I'd let them. I knew what I wanted. I could figure everything else out." It sounds like a joke, but Alice's voice is absolutely humourless. " And it did take some time, but they came around. Eventually. They're completely supportive now. Like, crazy-over-the-top-embarrassingly supportive."

I furrow my brows, trying to piece together what I know of Alice's life so far: she lost her mother. She has a brother. But now she speaks of parents, multiple. A step-mother, perhaps? Or father. Or aunts and uncles. For all I know, Alice could've been raised by a pack of wolves.

"I'm lucky. Carlisle and Esme are good people. Too good for me. Too good for any of us. I kind of lucked out in the parent department."

Carlisle and Esme. Strange. She calls her parents by their first names. Still, I have one answer: step-mother. Esme seems to be a step-mother. "Yeah," I answer, still caught up in my investigation. I blink a few times, trying to bring myself back to the present moment. "That's good," I say, "I mean, it obviously paid off. Look where you are now."

"I guess so," she humbly answers. "I could say the same about you, though. Look at all this." Alice lets out a breathless laugh, eyes darting from me up towards the barn we've been steadily approaching for quite a length of time. Just to the left of the red, wooden structure is a corral, much larger than the enclosures down by the house. There are a few horses still out grazing - Cinnamon, her young calf, my Ginger, and Holly and sturdy old Fern off in the distance.

"This place is beautiful," Alice softly croons. "The legacy your family built here is something worth protecting. I can see where your dad was coming from - of course he wanted someone to keep this alive."

"I see that now," I tell Alice. "Took a long time. I was definitely bitter for awhile, thought I wanted somethin' way different than this, but I came around." I keep talking as we approach the fence, both of us stopping at the foot of the barrier. I lean against it, eyes trained on the horses in the distance. "When my dad got sick, you know, I really started tryin' to learn everythin' about him - I wanted to understand him while I could, y'know? It changed my perspective on everythin'. Especially after he uh …" I shake my head, and power through. "Made me see this place how he sees it. Seasons change, years pass and so do people, but this land was here before us and it'll be here long after we're gone. I'm one in a long line of people born lucky enough to take care of it all."

Alice hums her approval, watching Ginger approach with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. The horse nears closer and closer, and Alice eventually begins to shuffle back. I chuckle at her. I can't help it.

"What?" Alice asks.

"You're afraid of 'em, aren't you? You can tell me."

"No," she demands. "I'm just - I don't - I've never even had a dog. So I uh, I don't really know what to do around them."

"It's not so difficult," I tell her. "If you're nice and calm, she'll be the same with you."

Alice doesn't seem so sure. "C'mon," I say, "just watch me."

"Jasper -" she begins to argue. I just wave her off.

I put a bit of space between Alice and I, following along the length of the fence until I'm parallel with Ginger, just ten feet away from me. I click my tongue and quietly call the horse's name, holding my hand out like I've got something for her - a sugar cube or some other treat. It takes a moment, but Ginger eventually makes her way over to me, lazily nosing at my hand.

"Hey there, pretty lady," I quietly mumble to her. Too quiet for Alice to hear. I pet down Ginger's long, muscular neck, letting her relax into place before stepping back to invite Alice closer. "Come here," I offer, putting a welcoming smile on my face. "Come say hello. I think you two are meant to be good friends."

Alice huffs out something like a laugh and turns to face me, arms crossing over her chest. Despite her obvious apprehension, Alice still wanders over to us both. When she stops, she does so behind me, putting a good, safe distance between her and Ginger.

I chuckle, going back to pat the horse again. "See? She's real sweet up close."

Alice stays firmly in place, her nervous expression softening into interest the longer I stand unharmed at Ginger's side. "I mean, she was very helpful last night," Alice notes softly, taking one step closer to us both.

"I guess she was," I say with another laugh.

When Alice makes it to my side I shift to make room for her, letting her stand exactly in my spot. "Stay right here. Don't move too fast, but you can pet her down her nose if you'd like, or down her neck. Just be gentle."

Alice glances at me over her shoulder and I nod, trying to encourage her along. She sighs out a breath and drops her arms, taking one step closer to the fence before trying anything further. The horse breathes out a huff of air and Alice tenses, hand frozen in mid-air. I watch her take in a breath, steady herself, and return to her mission in less than a second. At first contact with Ginger, Alice's whole self relaxes. "Well hello," I hear Alice say, words tangled in a chuckle.

She stands there petting Ginger in silence for awhile, but eventually finds her voice again. "Is she yours?"

"Guess so. Her 'n I have been together for a long time now. Longest relationship I've ever had."

Alice laughs at that.

After giving them their time alone, I move over to Ginger's other side. We stand across from each other, one on either side of Ginger's muzzle, both watching each other more than the horse. "See, look," I mutter, "you're a natural."

"I'm a quick learner," she replies. "Besides, I guess I did kind of live with a dog once. Only for a few days. He belonged to a family I stayed with - he was this little white yappy thing, but he really liked me. Always slept at the foot of my bed. I remember I really wanted a puppy after that, but it just wasn't in the books when I was a kid. Then when I was older, my parents worked all the time and my brother and I were always out - you know, we just didn't want the poor thing to be alone all the time."

I nod, a little surprised that Alice is willingly offering so much information. What she speaks of is completely foreign to me - a life spent so frequently off of one's own property - but I can certainly appreciate where Alice is coming from. No creature wants to be alone.

"What do your parents do?" I ask. Alice's smile grows. She moves her hand from Ginger's neck to gently - tentatively - pet down the horse's muzzle.

"Carlisle is a surgeon," Alice says, pride dripping from every word, "and Esme is an architect."

"Holy shit."

She laughs, hand dropping off of Ginger's face. "Yeah. It's a lot to live up to."

My brows furrow. "That's a feeling I know well."

Everything goes quiet after that. We stand placated by the presence of our four-legged friend, indulging in a moment of pure understanding. Alice stares at me and I stare back, admiring how the white light of the moon touches her skin. When I look back up into Alice's eyes, the intensity locked within her stare hits me straight in the gut. I have to look down. She's just too much.

"Well, I've got to get these ladies back inside." I say, peeking up only for a second. "You can wait here if you'd like, or you can come 'round into the stable with me."

Alice considers her options for a split second and then smiles before taking her first step towards the stable. I fall in step with her, eventually leading Alice inside the recently renovated structure. Inside are a series of stalls, four on each side, and a path leading between them all that leads towards the far door and the corral outside it. I encourage Alice to follow me through the stable, and ask for her help is tugging open the huge, rolling barn door.

Ginger, my brilliant companion, is already standing right outside the door waiting for us. Alice lets out a surprised little laugh, taking a jumping step back away from the horse. I reach out for her hand and pull Alice off to one side of the door before encouraging Ginger to walk into the stable. "Hey there sweet thing," I say to Ginger. Then, to Alice: "She's a smart one - knows the routine better than the rest of 'em."

Alice watches the horse lazily walk by us into the stable. Once she's inside, her hooves click on the ground, a rhythmic click click click down the length of the structure. Ginger walks straight to the furthest stall on the left and wanders in, like she's done a hundred times before. After years of the same routine, the Quarter Horse knows just where she belongs.

I take my place beside Alice, off to one side of the wide open door, and I call out for Fern. She's the oldest - a quasi leader to the group out in the pasture. After calling her name I whistle, just once. She lifts her head and looks at me, turning her pale white body slow and steady. I call her name again and wait, hoping to God that these animals don't chose tonight of all nights not to listen to me. This usually works.

"Do you do this every night?"

I shake my head. "No," I answer, calling Fern in again with a loud whistle. "It's good for them to be out in the pasture as much as they can - especially when the weather's nice most of the year like it is here. But with that storm comin' in, I don't want to take any chances. Not safe for anyone to be out in a thunderstorm." Fern starts trotting towards me. Holly follows in tow, then Cinnamon, then her foal.

She nods, understanding. Alice stays quiet, so obviously out of place. She'd done well with Ginger, but standing in the path of four horses has Alice tense. She takes a step back and still keeps her head up high, watching with curiosity as the herd follows my direction.

"How d'you do that?" She asks breathlessly.

"Trainin'," I explain. "Just takes time and some sugar cubes."

I smile at Alice and she smiles back. One by one, the horses walk into the stable, followed last by our newest addition. Smart little thing - even on her second day, she knows well enough to follow her mother whatever direction she leads. They all make way into their stalls, save for Holly, who's always proved a little more stubborn than the rest. It takes a lot of gentle coaxing, but eventually everyone is put away for the night with ample oats and hay.

Alice just hovers. That is, until little Soot tangles himself around her feet. She gasps and takes a step back, startled at first before realizing the black mass at her feet is nothing but a measly little barn cat. "Oh," she says, bending down to give the cat a good scratch. "Who's this?"

"Soot," I say. "I think. Might be Moose. The boys usually name 'em and it's hard to keep track. They all look the same after a while."

"You're very sweet, aren't you, little Soot," Alice says softly. I turn to watch them as I lock Cinnamon's stall. The cat twists and turns to soak up all of Alice's loving attention. She smiles, erupting into a full on fit of giggles when the cat paws at her. "Now that's a pet much more your size," I quip.

Alice's head snaps up, face flooded with pink. She breathes out a laugh and stands, trying, I think, to make herself seem more sizeable. "Hey, I can handle my own with the big guns," she replies, strolling over to me and Cinnamon. Alice peeks through the gate into the stall, smiling when she sees the mother and her foal. "What about that little distraction right there - the one who kept you from going shopping with me," she accuses dramatically, " - what's her name?"

"You know, we haven't really gotten that far yet," I explain, mouth pulling into a frown. I feel bad - I'd been so preoccupied with Alice over the last forty-odd hours that I hadn't bothered to decide on a moniker for the little lady. "Why don't you name her?" I suggest, solving the problem with the root of its cause.

"Jasper." She scoffs.

"No, I'm serious. I mean, 'round here we've all had the chance a million times. I'm guessin' this might be your one and only chance to name a horse." I pause a beat, then add, "who turns down a one in a lifetime opportunity?" I mean that more than I let on.

Alice smiles a lopsided smile, inching closer to the foal's pen again. "Is this how you woo all the ladies?" She teasingly asks.

"Why, Alice!" I reply, playfully chaste. "I would never. This is serious ranch business."

Alice eyes me suspiciously, but accepts my offer nonetheless. "Alright," she says, pursing her lips as she watches the small thing huddle up towards its mother. She furrows her brows, tilts her head just so, and watches the horses interact with a gaze so intentional any passerby could guess exactly what she was doing.

I start to laugh.

"Shut it," she grumbles. "I can't think when you're making all that noise."

It only makes me laugh more.

"I'm serious! Be quiet or you'll end up with a dud like … princess or spot."

This is Alice. This woman, right here. The chatty one. The happy one. The smiley, dramatic, deliberate one. I know it. I can see it in her eyes, that this is the core of her. But I know what else is there, too. Sadness. Anxiety. Uncertainty. Qualities that I know, inside and out, simply from looking in the mirror. Every part of her creates a whole, unshakeable woman that I can't help but admire, even when she's huffing in my face.

As Alice watches the horses, I move in her direction. I end up behind her. Close enough to see into the stall, I tell myself. It has nothing to do with her. But Alice shifts, head tilting from one direction to the other, and I can't help but watch how the exposed muscles of her upper back rearrange in the process. Her choppy hair moves over the soft skin there and her scent wafts towards me - vanilla and sunscreen and something else sweet, like peach.

Alice tenses in front of me, shoulders coming right up to her ears. Her breath hitches.

That's when I realize I touched her. Just by accident. My hand brushed against her arm - only for a second - but it certainly affected Alice. She turns on her heel, looking up at me with those big blue eyes of hers, and I shift closer - just a magnet attracted to its match. I want so desperately to lean in and press my lips to hers. It'd be easy. It'd take less than a second. I lean in. She'd taste like she did, like liquor and salt -

Except she won't taste like liquor and salt.

This isn't last night. This is today.

Today, Alice has made herself loud and clear: you are not what she wants.

This is not what she wants.

"I'm sorry," I immediately say, taking one considerable step back. I keep my eyes open wide, searching Alice's face for any signs of discomfort.

"Jasper, I don't know how to do this," she mutters, brows furrowed.

I know exactly what she means, but still, I say: "name a horse? It's not -"

"You know that I feel something for you," she says, a jumble of nervous words. "I feel - I feel a lot of things for you, actually. Every time you so much as look at me, it's like -" she laughs, almost pathetically. "Like I have no control over my own mind. I - I keep trying to tell myself that I don't, but I do. I like you," Alice admits, flushing bright red.

I smile. I can't help it. It's a jaw-breaking kind of smile.

Alice's big blue eyes scan my face and she begins to frown, delicately shaking her head back and forth. "No, Jasper, you don't - It's not a good thing."

"It's not?" I ask, smile faltering.

She shakes her head again, still primary red. "I can't like you."

"You can't?"

Alice looks away from me, her usually perfect posture crumbling. She opens her mouth as if going to talk, then snaps it shut. Alice does the same again and again, struggling to find the right thing to say to me. Panic rises in my chest. My heart pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears, so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. She's already told me once tonight that nothing will ever happen between us, romantically. Maybe now she's realizing we can't be friends either. Maybe it's all just too much.

She sighs, pulling me back to reality. "We can't do this," she reiterates.

The needy idiot in me takes control, talking before I realize what's being said. "We could make something work, Alice. We could fight for this. There are planes and trains and cars and phones and computers and a million ways to -"

"Jasper, it's more than that," she deftly replies. "It's so much more than that."

"Then tell me," I insist. "Talk to me. Explain it to me. Don't just - don't just tell me you can't." I'm not in control anymore. My heart is at the wheel, spouting words without consulting my common sense first. This ridiculous, love-hungry organ of mine knows what it wants, and what it wants is Alice.

Alice shifts, one hand flying up to nervously rub at the back of her neck. She gapes again, head shaking back and forth.

"Alice, please," I gently urge, "you can tell me whatever it is you need to tell me. Just help me understand."

Finally, Alice finds her voice. And what a voice it is - loud, demanding, shaking with nerves. "It's me, okay? It's me. I'm terrified. I'm scared out of my mind. I can't - I can't do this. I've never done this before, okay? I don't do feelings. I don't - and - and - the second I allow myself to feel something for you, all these alarm bells go off in my mind. I've never had feelings like this for another person before, not big feelings. It's just - I've never felt something like this before, and it scares the hell out of me."

"Why?" I demand. "Why does that scare you? Because you don't want to feel anything, or because you really do?"

"Jasper -"

"You're so much braver than you know, Alice. You're allowed to be scared. You're supposed to be scared. Hell, I am. I'm - I have no idea what this thing is between us. Of course that's scary. But I - I want to try anyways. I want to be there for you, however you want me."

"I don't know how to do that," she replies, looking down at her feet.

"We can learn together," I answer. "We can be brave together."

Alice shifts her weight between her feet, eyes darting towards the door - her closest exit. I take a nervous step backwards, knowing I've pushed her more than enough in the last few minutes.

"I want that," she quietly admits, staring outside. "You have no idea how badly I -" Alice stops the thought dead in its tracks, shaking her head like it might erase whatever it was she was thinking.

"Then please, Alice, let's do it. Let's try. Let's be brave."

She looks at me fast, but not fast enough to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. Alice shakes her head, worrying that plump bottom lip of hers between her teeth. She looks to the floor, then the horses, then the ceiling - anywhere but me. Suddenly, she stills, body going stiff.

"Did you hear that?" Alice asks.

I blink at her in confusion.

"Thunder," Alice says.

"I don't hear -"

"It's far," she says, "but I hear it."

It doesn't need to be said. Our conversation is over. Alice has had enough.

We both keep watching outside, eyes locked on the sky. Something rumbles in the distance, like heavy truck tires on a road or a strong gust of wind. I'd write it off as something like that, if it wasn't followed by an impressive show of lightning. The entire field - stretching back towards where I found Alice earlier - is illuminated in a weird, purple sort of colour.

"Guess that's that," I say, defeated. "Better finish up and head inside before we get stuck in another downpour."

Alice's face softens into a sad kind of smile. "Yeah," she says, still avoiding my gaze. "I think you're right."

…

The rain starts not long after we get back to the house. Alice hovers by the front door, watching the rain come down in a neverending sheet, staring like she's never seen a downpour before.

"Well," she says, almost too quietly for me to hear, "it's late. I should go to bed." Alice turns away from the window, slowly wandering across the room to land right in front of me.

I don't argue with her. I feel guilty still for what I said in the stable - I shouldn't have pushed, and I know it, but my heart got the better of me, just for a moment. Alice has been tense ever since.

"Alright," I say. "Sleep is - yeah, sleep is a good idea. I should probably do the same. I uh, didn't sleep much last night." Or at all.

Alice nods her head, eyes locked on the stairs perched behind me.

We stand in the dark, surrounded by the sounds of a storm, neither looking at the other. I watch the window directly behind her, mesmerized by the wild rain, almost falling sideways from the strength of the wind. When I finally pull my attention back to the woman before me, Alice's eyes are on my face, burning holes into my skin. She hugs herself, arms wrapping tight around her waist, but those eyes of hers never so much as blink.

More than anything, I just want to know what she's thinking.

She just keeps staring, for an uncomfortable length of time. I try to keep her stare, but every second spent staring into those eyes I fall deeper and deeper. If I'm ever going to be okay with this - with having Alice around without ever having her - I'm going to need some distance. Soon.

I clear my throat, forcing my attention away from Alice. "Actually, I have some work I should really get done first," I say.

"Oh," Alice says, looking down to study the wood floor between us. "Alright. Well, uh, I, uh -"

I nod.

"Sleep well," Alice breathes out.

"You too," I quietly reply.

She leaves, wandering up the stairs in what feels like slow motion. I watch her all the while, right until she disappears onto the second floor. I'm left alone in a cloud of confusion, wondering where exactly Alice and I stand after the events of the past hour. She likes me, I think. She really, genuinely likes me. I'm terribly aware of everything else - of all the fear and anxiety and uncertainty surrounding us - but that's the one fact I keep coming back to: Alice likes me. Big feelings, she called them. Big feelings. I know what that's like. I've got some big feelings of my own.

I keep ruminating on that one facet of our conversation, one moment playing over and over in my mind like a broken record. Answering emails doesn't distract me. Checking inventory does squat. Not even a drink of my dad's scotch clears the thought of Alice liking me. I tell myself that time cures all ails, that the aching in my chest will subside eventually, but it doesn't. Hours pass, and like the storm still angrily roaring outside, this big, uncomfortable feeling of loss weighs down the air around me. Nature is at war with itself. So am I.

Two gentle knocks echo through the office.

I snap my head up, so fast I'm surprised I don't feel whiplash.

Alice is standing in the doorway. She's shrouded by darkness but I know it's her by outline alone - messy hair, rounded shoulders, a lithe, little body. Two glassy eyes shine out from the dark, so startlingly catlike and wild. When she takes a step closer, illuminated by the yellow light of my desk lamp, I notice more. Or, more specifically, I notice less. Less clothing. Alice is wearing - well - basically nothing. What she's wearing is pink, or maybe white, and looks to be made of something soft. Silk, I think. One thing is for sure: the little slip is the only thing Alice is wearing.

Thunder tumbles overhead, slow and long and steady, like a drumroll.

"Alice - is everything alright?" I ask, forcing my voice through a tight throat. "Is the storm keeping you awake?" I keep my eyes firmly on Alice's face, ignoring the way her heaving breath draws attention to her barely-clad chest. I set down the pen I've been clutching in my fist, trying to keep from submitting to the primal part of me that wants to catapult over this fucking desk to get to her faster. I blink, clearing away any lingering primal thoughts.

"I was thinking," Alice says softly. She takes another few steps forward before speaking again. "... About what you said earlier."

"Oh?" I ask, "what were you thinking?"

"I don't want to go on wondering what my life would've been like if I had just been a little more brave," she says, closing the distance between us.

It's a conversation so minimal I'd barely even consider it one, but there's nothing else for Alice to say. That one admission is all I've ever wanted - all I've ever needed - to hear. Something clicks in me. I move on autopilot, up out of my chair and on my feet in less than a second.

Alice's slow, even steps dissolve into a full on run.

We collide somewhere near the middle of my office.

For someone so small she's surprisingly strong. Her body slams hard against mine and I stumble backwards - one step, then two - only able to keep us upright by wrapping my arms low around Alice's waist. Before I can say a word, Alice reaches up to take a hold of my face.

She kisses me hard. Desperately. Her hands fist into my shirt, pulling me in until I'm firmly against her body. I don't mind. I'll go wherever she leads. I kiss her, too, like I've wanted to since we left Lonely's last night.

We tumble around, struggling against the impressive height difference between us. Alice stretches up on her tippy toes and I bend over, almost in half, both of us trying to find some reasonable middle ground. It's almost ridiculous. It's only when my hip catches against the corner of my desk that I get an idea that just might work. I easily hoist Alice up onto the desktop, eliciting a surprised little yelp from her parted lips. Alice watches me with wide, lust-blown blue eyes, waiting not so much as a second before dragging me back towards herself.

This works much better. We're almost the same height this way, or at least close enough for Alice to wrap her arms firmly around my neck. I wind up positioned between her legs, which she swiftly hooks over my hips.

Who the hell is this woman?

Alice kisses my mouth, then along my jaw, effectively stuttering my heart to a stop.

My hands fly up into her hair and I gently guide Alice back to my mouth. I lean into her, pressing all the want I've been feeling into one kiss after another. Thunder explodes outside, followed soon after by an audible crack of lightning. We part, eyes opening to a pitch black room. Thunder rumbles again. The lights flicker, then turn back on.

Alice turns her head to watch the light above us, and I take the opportunity to dive in, pressing my mouth to the sweet, soft skin of her neck. She gasps, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt. "Jasper," she breathes. My name never sounded so good. I chuckle at Alice's reaction, moving back to catch her lips with my own. We go on, making out like two horny teenagers desperately pawing at each other in the dark, until Alice lets out a particularly wonton whine.

I pull back, taking that beautiful face of hers between my hands. "Alice, what do you want?" I gently ask. She smiles bright, her hands coming up to cover over my own. Alice lurches forward, letting her lips press against mine again - softer, this time, like she's melting with each and every touch. "You know what I want," she whispers against my mouth.

My hands curl into the silky fabric covering her hips and I can't keep myself from hoisting the material just a little higher up around her legs. I have to force myself to unfurl my hands, in order to stretch across her back. I lift Alice up off the desk easily once she's wrapped in my arms.

Alice laughs, clinging onto me for dear life. "Jasper!"

I turn, take a few steps, and press Alice's back hard against the wall. "Tell me what you want, Alice." I say.

"Take me upstairs," she answers, breathless.

That, I can do.

A/N: WOOMP THERE IT IS!

Will one night be enough? Will Alice be okay with her decisions come the light of day? Tune in next week for more of Golden Hour!

PS: Starting now, I'll be writing Golden Hour's After Hours, a collection of more ... mature moments from the Golden Hour series! To read more about Alice and Jasper's rendezvous and get in on all that glorious smut, check back in the next week or so for BLACKOUT, the companion chapter to this one here. Any and all future "M" rated moments (ok all the smut) will be posted in After Hours, with an appropriate mature rating. This is simply to keep this fic (Golden Hour) accessible to a larger audience, while still indulging the less-than-work-appropriate aspects of Jalice's relationship! Any and all mature chapters posted in After Hours will NOT impact the plot in any way, and can be simply read as one-shots, or simple fill-ins to this main fic. YOU WILL NOT MISS ANY PLOT BY SKIPPING THESE CHAPTERS!

A huge shout-out to LittleDarlingAJ who put up with me complaining / struggling through this for the past two weeks. You are an angel sent from Jalice heaven.

And, as always, for more fic information, inspo, and updates please check out www . twiwrite . com !

(PS: I apologize for the lack of update last week! If you ever come back on a Tuesday and see that I haven't updated, check out the tumblr listed above for more information! I will always post a little PSA if my updates are going to be running late :) )