I grab my bags out of the rental car and slam the boot harder than I intend to, cursing my bad judgement, cursing Emma, cursing everything in this god forsaken town. In all of thirty minutes the woman has managed to fuck me up all over again. I know it's not her fault that I can't get past everything that happened between us, but that fact that she can't even see it pisses me off. She's not a stupid woman by any means but she's so bloody oblivious that I just want to shake some sense into her. From our history I already know that when one of us is in a bad mood it can get ugly but when both of us are pushed to our limits, it's gelignite. The time I sprained my neck during make up sex was a testament to how bad the fight was and it wasn't even an unusually tumultuous argument.

I find the small stainless steel flask in my suitcase that I usually keep in my desk at work for "emergencies."It's hard to find good rum most places so I usually bring my own, good thing I had the presence of mind to grab it for this trip. Something tells me Captain Morgan will be my best friend and closest confidante until I'm safely back in LA. I contemplate emptying the flask in a few hearty drinks, but settle for just a nip. After all, I'm going to have to make it last. I take a good look at the stars above, they're so much brighter and more brilliant here than at home, where the city lights drown them out. I suppose that's one thing worth missing here.

The twenty yard walk back up the porch stairs feels oddly like walking to my execution, but I try to shake those dark thoughts out of my head. I'm doing this for Liam. He would have wanted Emma taken care of, he would have wanted her safe. If that means me sticking around and suffering living purgatory for the weekend, then so be it.

"You scared me," Emma jumps when the front door slams behind me, echoing throughout the house.

"Sorry love," I grumble, hoping it at least seems like I mean it.

"We… uh… we left your room the way it was," she says and shifts uncomfortably. It shouldn't be this awkward between us, but alas. She's changed out of her rumpled mourning dress and is in a long knit sweater with the sleeves pulled over her hands and a pair of too-large sweatpants that I'm sure belonged to my brother. "I'm going to stay in the guest room if you need anything."

"Sleep well, Swan," I force a smile and nod, starting to haul my bags upstairs. The thought of her sleeping alone in the room meant for occasional visitors hits me harder than I think it should.

"Hey Killian," she says quietly and is fussing with the hem of her sweater and refusing to meet my gaze. "I'm glad you're home, I'm sorry I didn't say that before."

I don't know what to say in reply because I'm not sure there are words sufficient to answer her. I settle for another nod and continue up to my old room. The door is open and the light is already on, Emma must have done it while I was getting my bags.

I hated this room. It's small and musty, it's frigid in the winter and a veritable kiln in the summer but it has the best view of the harbor and the sunrise. I'm sure if I looked in the closet the collection of model ships that Liam and I meticulously tended to as children would still be there. It's the room where Emma and I exchanged V-cards. I knew that I was her first, but she doesn't know that she was mine. I talked a big game but the truth is that I was waiting for Emma. At first we were just friends messing around and learning about the birds and the bees but, like everything else, that went to hell.

Flashback

"I'm kind of tired tonight, can't we just make dinner and watch a movie or something?" Emma sighs and throws herself on my bed, making herself comfortable against the pillows that live on the side she's adopted as "hers." She smiles sweetly at me and pats the empty span of mattress next to her. "And by 'we' I mean you and by 'dinner' I mean grilled cheese."

"We can do that after. Come on, Swan, you were 'tired' on Wednesday, too," I whine and flop down dramatically next to her. I roll over onto my side and twist her hair around my finger, it's beyond me how it's always so soft. "You're neglecting me, love."

"You could get a girlfriend, you know," she smirks and pokes me playfully in the ribs where she (and only she) knows that I'm ticklish.

"And ruin our perfect arrangement? You wound me, Swan," I pout and it's not that I haven't thought about it before, I have. Specifically I've thought extensively about dropping the friends-with-benefits pretense we've become so good at and going all in with Emma. Any man in his right mind would be a lucky lad to call her his. I've not seen much of the world yet, but I already know that she's a rare woman. I'm nearly certain that when I'm old and grey I'll lament her as the one that got away. "Perhaps you just need to make more time your poor, forgotten Killian in your busy schedule."

"You know my dad has been giving me more responsibility at the station. I'll probably be deputy soon."

"Then we should celebrate," I smile my best charming smile, the one I know she always melts for.

"Well when you put it that way…"

"That's what I thought," I smile and pounce on her. She squeaks and giggles. She's gorgeous against my duvet, her pale skin and light hair a stark contrast to the dark red linen. I should congratulate myself more often that it's my bed she's falling into every week. She's kind and funny and smart and her tight little body is a delicious bonus. It drives Liam crazy because he keeps telling me that she deserves better, some rot about romance and being a gentleman. He's pissed because he thinks I'm using her, little does my virtuous brother know that she begs for everything I do to her. Behind her innocent small-town-sheriff's-daughter veneer she's as tempting a siren as any from the old sailors' tales, this whole arrangement was her idea to begin with. She may blush sweetly when Graham, that empty-headed git she works with, tells her that her dress is pretty but as soon as my bedroom door closes behind her she wraps her long legs around my waist and begs me to fuck her hard. I'm nothing if not a gentleman and when my lady makes a request I come through.

We're usually straight to the point. We tried the whole foreplay thing, but it was strange kissing her. It was easier to keep sex soundly in the "just sex" box without kissing and stuff like that. Sure, a lot of the intimacy was lost but it was easier to be friends while the sun was still up if I wasn't thinking about how sweet her lip balm is or how just one kiss is never enough for her. I know she liked it because sometimes she would kiss me for no reason when we were watching TV or when I'd stop by the station to bring her coffee. It was getting too real and I didn't want her getting the wrong idea about what our situation was so the kissing had to go. It's not an ideal arrangement but given the choice between sex and no sex… that was easy really.

"Wait, babe, slow down a little," she says softly when she grabs my hand that's working to get the damned button fly of her jeans undone.

Everything about it catches me off guard; going slow, the pet name, the tenderness in her voice. These aren't things that apply to us. We're friends who sleep together. We're just doing what feels good and it's not supposed to mean anything more. I promised her it would never be anything more. I know I shouldn't but with the softness in her voice and her eyes I can't stop myself.

"Aye, love," I nod and break the rules. I kiss her. She kisses me back and trails her fingers through my hair, pulling just hard enough to make me wish we did this all the time. She's soft but demanding and I want to give her everything that I have and everything that I am. Instead of trying not to be loud enough to rouse Liam's suspicion like usual she whispers my name in a breathy prayer and it ruins me. We touch each other everywhere and when I finally press into her our fingers are woven together. Everything about it is different, everything. For everything we've done, we've never done this— I've never made love her before.

Her back bows gorgeously and she comes with my name as a sigh on her lips and its the sexiest thing I've ever seen, ever. Not that I mind the nail marks that are usually scored into my back or the filthy remarks, but there's something about her giving in to the pleasure I'm giving her while looking in my eyes that gets me. I was hoping for a few more rounds tonight since it's been a while but the way that she leaves a languid trail of kisses from my shoulder to my jaw as she comes down from her high makes me lose it. It should be a blow to my ego that we went one for one, but she's warm and boneless in my arms and there's a soft look in her eyes that I haven't seen before. I lie next to her for several minutes that could have been hours wondering what in the hell just happened.

"So… the autumn block party is this weekend. Wanna go?" her voice is light and beautiful and it makes me want to say yes in a million different ways and that scares the hell out of me. I shouldn't want to take her to some ridiculous town event. I shouldn't be wondering what color dress she'll be wearing. I shouldn't be thinking that the new French restaurant downtown might be nice to take her to or that she'd feel good in my arms for a slow dance. I definitely shouldn't be thinking about how much I wanted to do whatever it is that we just did again and again. Friends who sleep together don't plan evenings out with dinner and dancing, that would be dating which would infer a romantic relationship. That's not us, it can't be us.

"Swan," I groan and turn away from her. If she sees my face she'll see the lie just below the surface.

"Come on Killian, it could be fun," she whines and curls up against my back. This intimacy is too easy and it feels way too right. This is exactly why we don't bloody kiss. This was never part of the deal, and for good reason: she wants to stay here and build a life, I'm saving everything I make on the docks to get out. She's the kind of woman a man stays for, and the only thing that scares me more than the warmth blossoming in my chest twists her fingers in my hair is the thought of being anchored in this small town forever. She won't leave and I can't stay. It's as simple as that. Truth be told, if everything were up to me she'd be mine. I'd whisk her away and show her the world and every experience she reads about in all of those book of hers, she'd be my queen. I would make her the happiest woman in the world or die trying. But this isn't a fairy tale, this is the real world; in this world I have nothing to offer her but a murky, uncertain future with a high probability of complete ruin. I'm not good enough for her, no where near it, but I am good enough to know that I'd be damned before I'd put out that flame in her eyes by being a complete, utter disappointment. She hasn't seen it yet, but Emma Swan is meant for greatness and she deserves far more than an orphan from Hackney with little more than a high school diploma to his name.

"Look, we promised nothing was going to change."

"But nothing is changing," she giggles and rolls her eyes, pulling me onto my back and crossing her arms over my chest and resting her chin on her hands to stare at me with her insanely green eyes. "Stop being weird about it, weirdo."

"I'm not being weird about, I'm just saying," I offer and trail my fingers down the lovely expanse of her back exposed where the blankets have gathered her hips. Her skin is softer than I'd ever realized before.

"You're totally being weird about it," she blushes with a small smile as her fingers dance over my collar bone. I can tell she wants to kiss me but I turn my head and push her away just enough to get some space between us.

"We're having fun, alright, and this…it's really good but I'm not going to date you, Swan. I made that perfectly clear. We talked about this, the sooner you really understand that, the better."

Her eyes go wide and the lovely pink across her cheeks flares into a crimson red. She recoils from me instantly, pulling so far away in one motion I know I'll never be able to reach her again.

"I have to go," she mumbles with a crack in her voice and sniffles, holding my blankets close to her naked body. The look of shame and embarrassment in her eyes is so foreign, I hate that I put it there.

"Come on, don't do that, Swan. You're taking this all the wrong way, love. I only meant that we agreed on all this: we said no dating, if I take you to the thing that's a date, therefore breaks the rules. You agreed to the rules, too."

"You're such a jerk, Killian. I didn't ask you to 'take' me on a date, I asked if you would go with me like you did last year and the year before that and every other year since we were seven. It's not like I'm groveling to you to date me. You've made it abundantly clear on multiple occasions that you have absolutely no interest in me beyond getting off a few times a week when it's convenient for you," she snaps and climbs out of bed, throwing her clothes on angrily. Is that really how I've made her feel? We were both supposed to know, and accept, the score.

"You know that's not true, love," I awkwardly try to get dressed on the other side of the room. "I've been nothing but honest with you. You promised that nothing was going to change."

"The only thing that's changed is you!" she seethes at me through tears as she clutches her sweater to her chest, her make up leaving two thick trails down her face. She's hurt and she's angry that it's showing, she swipes viciously at her cheeks to dry her tears but all it does is make her face even more red. If I were a better man I'd be gathering her into my arms and kissing her hair until she had no need for tears. If I were a better man I'd be honest with her about why I can't be hers. If I were a better man… "This was a huge mistake."

"Come on, don't say that. What we have is really good. I just don't want to mess this up, Swan," I try to defend myself but I know I've already lost.

"You just did," she sniffled, her voice starkly soft with all the finality of a last goodbye. I'm stupid enough to let her go, thinking that I'll just patch everything up tomorrow by offering to cook for her at her place after work.

The next day I waited for her all afternoon at Granny's, our usual lunch spot, staking out our table to make sure I didn't miss her on her way home from the station. When I finally saw her she was sitting on one of the benches outside the Sheriff station talking to Graham. She was smiling and her cheeks were pink. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear like she does when she's shy and it aroused a foreign and uncomfortable feeling in my gut that I now know was blinding jealousy. She had her shiny new deputy star pinned to her red leather jacket and Graham was beaming; I'm sure he was thinking that this could finally be his chance with my Emma. She sat on the bench for a moment after he walked away looking down at her phone. I wanted to take back everything I said the night before; I don't want to go to the block party with her, I want to take her, as my date, as my girlfriend, whatever she desires. I want her to dress up for me. I want to take her to dinner and kiss on her parents' front porch. I want her all to myself. I want everything from her, just for me. I don't care about what I have to sacrifice to be with her, I'm willing and ready to do anything. I can change for her, I can be better, I will be.

She starts to walk away, still looking down at her phone and my despair must be a little more evident than I anticipated.

"If you're waiting for the perfect time to go after her, that would have been it, Jones," Granny Lucas comments flatly, leaning against the counter and sipping from her coffee mug.

"I… she—" I stutter, hoping my blushing isn't as obvious as my lurking. It's bloody humiliating to be called out by the proprietress of the only restaurant worth eating at in town. If it weren't for her superb onion rings, I'd be wary to ever show my face here again.

"You're going to miss your window if you don't get out there, scoot!" Granny dismisses with a wave.

"Swan," I call and jog down the block after her. Her eyes are unreadable when she turns around and I don't get the brilliant smile I usually do. She actually seems uncomfortable, like she was hoping I wouldn't see her.

"Killian, hey, what's up?"

"I was thinking about last night, and truth be told I was a complete tosser. It'd be my honor to go to the party with you and maybe dinner, too?"

"Thanks, but I can't go anymore, I picked up an extra shift at the station."

"Right, of course, congratulations by the way. I see you made deputy, quite impressive, that."

"Thanks," she mutters and shifts uncomfortably. I take one of her hands in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. Her breath hitches and her fingers tighten ever so slightly around mine.

"Can I take you to dinner tonight? To celebrate."

"Oh, umm… my mom is making a roast tonight."

"Tomorrow then? The full nine, dress up, dinner, wine?"

"Killian… it's fine… really," she stutters and pulls her hand away, shoving it safely back in her pocket. "Don't worry about it. I have to go."

She didn't say it then, but I knew that something big and important between us had broken. I'd lost her.

Present

They haven't really touched my room in all of the years I've been gone. The red duvet is still on the bed. There are a few boxes in the corner with my name scrawled on them in Liam's jagged chicken scratch hand. A fine layer of dust has accumulated on the lamp and nightstand, but other than that, it's exactly the same way I left it when I moved out eight years ago. A silver glint on the dresser catches my attention. It's the pair of silver cuff links Liam gave all of us as groomsmen's gifts. Mine are engraved with the same Old English 'J' that his were. They could use a good polish but the engraving is still stark against the silver. I sit on the floor and lean against the foot of my bed rolling the cool metal against my palm and for the first time since I got the call reality hits me.

Liam is gone.

I'm alone now.

I'm not proud of it, but I let myself cry well into the night and it doesn't do anything to make the hurt more bearable. I'm silently thankful that Emma didn't want to be alone tonight because I don't either. Even though she's on the other side of the house knowing she's here helps.