Jess unpacked another batch of John Green with a curled lip, stacking them in the store's teenage fiction section, half tempted to turn the spines inwards so that no-one knew they were there.

"Stop with that look – they're big sellers."

"I guess that's the problem," Jess told Matt, watching him as he unpacked Veronica Roth. "Can we at least put Kurt Vonnegut in this section, too? Try and even the keel a bit?" he tried, looking guiltily at his friend.

"Sure. Whatever keeps you happy," Matt replied with a smirk and an eye-roll. Matt was quiet for a moment, rearranging the books unnecessarily on the shelf, avoiding Jess' eye. "Jess?" Matt asked, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Jess smirked, running his hand through his hair. "Listen, Matt, I'm flattered, really, but you're really not my type."

Matt rolled his eyes again, before begrudgingly laughing, shoving Jess' shoulder. "Not that, egotist. Me and Chris were sort of wondering ..."

"And you both thought that you should be the one to ask me?" Jess laughed, calling on the fact that Matt wasn't exactly the most tactful of the two. Although, of the three, Jess certainly ranked third.

"I pulled the short straw," Matt corrected, de-constructing the box which had held the Divergent Series.

"Okay," Jess answered carefully, still emptying his box onto the shelves.

"The 14th," Matt said simply, hoping Jess would catch on to his meaning. Jess turned to him impatiently, darkness somewhere behind his eyes. Jess shoved his sleeves up to his elbows and continued to unpack his box, refusing to look at his friend. "Jess, we aren't stupid – we know what's going on, and who this reporter is. Did you really think we wouldn't want to talk about it?" Matt sounded impatient and authoritative. Jess was not responding well to his tone. He could feel himself slip into a state of rage, the micromanagement abrasive to him.

"What is there to talk about?" Jess bit, trying to keep himself under control in a store half-full of people on a Saturday afternoon.

"The last time she was here, you went totally off the rails – drinking and smoking and doing anything that moved. We can't afford that again. The store is finally in a good financial balance, and we're afraid that if she comes and fucks you over again-"

"Look," Jess barked, then deflated slightly, noting that his loud and harsh tone made a couple of customers look in their direction. Jess grabbed Matt's arm, dragging him into the stock room and shutting the door. Jess sighed, folding his arms over his chest protectively. "Matt, I appreciate the concern – or whatever that was. But I get to decide this, okay? I don't meddle in your lives," he said dismissively. Matt was quiet, but Jess could feel his judgement between the air between them. He sighed, knowing he would have to explain this further. He hated sharing his feelings. It was bad enough that he'd let slip to Rory a little too much in their last couple of conversations. 'I'll miss you until I die'? All his insides cringed up at the thought of voicing that to anyone ever again.

Jess was not one to openly admit anything, much less emotions. He'd learnt the hard way that most people didn't care – even people who should have, like Liz. Jess' childhood had not been a happy one with her, and teenage resentment still hadn't fully left him because of that. Liz had reformed, but it still left Jess with a bitter taste in his mouth that she hadn't bothered to even try to reform for him. Instead, his half-sister had a happy and healthy, if a little eccentric, mother, who she actually called 'Mom'. And Jess? Well, Jess could still remember cleaning up drug induced vomit at six years old. He could remember picking her up from the street where she'd fallen due to her alcohol consumption when he was twelve. He could still remember every face of her past husbands, boyfriends and one-night-stands – the losers, abusers and thieves, every one. She would never be 'Mom' to him. He was sorry for that, and so was she.

Because of this, it stood to reason for Jess that no-one should care about him. He'd learnt at a very young age that the people he cared for generally didn't give a damn. Then he moved to Stars Hollow. Luke. And her.

Jess sat on one of the boxes on the floor, and Matt looked at him impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest in defence.

"I don't know what to tell you, man," Jess admitted.

"How about what happened," Matt suggested, softening a little in Jess' defeat.

"Too long. Too complicated."

"The gist?" Matt tried, uncrossing his arms and scratching the back of his neck.

"Read The Subsect. That's pretty much what happened."

"You're joking?" Matt asked, uncertain. "It was auto-biographical?"

Jess shook his head 'no'. "But it's written for her. It's all the stuff I'm sorry for – everything fixed by the end of the book. Except, in real life, it's not fixed."

"Jess, I have no idea what you're getting at."

Jess looked up at him with reproachful eyes, running a hand through his hair nervously and letting the air in his lungs escape in a gust. "She's the only person I've ever loved in my entire life, Matt. I screwed up and lost her."

"Oh," Matt said, immediately uncomfortable at Jess' out-of-character confession to him. "And you want her back?"

Jess shrugged. "It's more complicated than that." Matt nodded in understanding, looking at Jess in pity. Jess' stomach clenched in discomfort. "She's not the girl I fell in love with anymore."

"Jess," Matt chided. "If she's not, why did you run all the way to Maryland for her? Every time she texts you, it's like you've just seen a fucking puppy. Don't kid yourself."

Jess sighed. "I'm not. That's the problem."

And it was. Jess was extremely aware that he still loved Rory Gilmore. He'd never stopped. The problem wasn't even that she had changed so much – after all, so had Jess. He had become less bitter. A little less. He had a purpose now, rather than his hell-bent dive-bomb for self-destruction. He had the store. He had his writing. He had friends he genuinely liked.

The problem was that, not only did he not trust himself (after all, he had previous form to bail, to lash out, to hurt her, to hurt himself by hurting her), but he also didn't trust her (after all, she had ruined him – decimated him. Broke him. Twice). He just wasn't sure he could survive again. Matt was right – off the rails he had gone. And the time Matt had been referring – the second time – hadn't even been the worst.

Matt fixed him with a pitying look, patted his shoulder, and left Jess in the store room. Jess' hands ran through his hair in frustration and sat with his head in his hands, staring into space.

-break-

The next day, Luke called him. He spoke for about half an hour about something or nothing, dancing around the subject he'd actually called about, before finally getting down to his reason for calling.

"Look, are you sure about this, Jess? You kids have done this before and it ended in total disaster for you both."

Jess frowned. "What do you think we're going to do?" he asked, lost. As far as he was concerned, Rory hadn't even alluded to getting back together. She had a new job in New York, and he had his life in Philly, anyway. He didn't understand where all of this was coming from. "Has she said something?" Luke struggled on the other end of the line. "Luke."

"She hasn't said anything exactly. But she did show Lorelai the article that got her the job at the Book Review, and told her who she was interviewing next weekend at whose book store. We're just putting two and two together, here."

"You're getting five, Uncle Luke."

"We know the two of you together, Jess. There's never nothing between you. You're saying you're just friends?"

Jess was quiet, before spitting, "Must mean we're getting married, then."

"You have an incredible knack for reverting eight years into a surly seventeen year old, you know." Jess grunted in annoyance, unable to think of a reply. "Me and Lorelai – we're just worried about you both."

"Thanks for your concern, but I can handle it."

Even Jess second-guessed himself on that one. He had no idea if he could handle it. He knew that if Rory wanted to start something again, he was her puppet. His practical side knew that it wasn't sustainable – especially over such a distance. And, God, it was Rory Gilmore. It wasn't sustainable, anyway. Eventually, surely, she'd come to her senses and end up with another Yale asshole – probably alumnus, though, this time – and leave him in the dust. He'd never deserved her anyway.

Of course, he knew for certain that Luke had felt this same way, once, about Lorelai. The other magical Gilmore Girl. And she'd married him. And was happy. And loved him.

Maybe guys like him – guys like Luke – maybe sometimes they actually got lucky.

Logical, practical side said 'no'.

"Jess, for once, don't give me a smart-ass answer, or brush it off. Tell me – do you still love her?"

Jess was quiet, already knowing his answer. Luke did too. But actually saying it out loud to someone was an entirely different animal to thinking it and feeling it. Jess felt like his throat was closing up for a moment, while he struggled over the words. He knew Luke could hear him battling. He also knew Luke understood how this felt.

"Yes," he finally got out. Then his brain caught up, and he rushed to say, "Do not tell Lorelai."

Luke sighed. "I won't. But you have to deal with this. Either you get over her, or you have to see if it'll go anywhere with her. You're going to be unhappy for a very long time if you don't. Trust me, I know."

"I can't, Luke." Jess' voice broke slightly, and he cleared it awkwardly, running his free hand through his hair. "I live in Philadelphia."

"Okay, lets put it this way – which could you live without? Philadelphia or Rory?"

"You're putting it too simply. I work here."

"You're an author, Jess. You can write anywhere. You can do your editing-manuscripts-thing anywhere, too. Stop making excuses."

Jess fell silent, chewing his bottom lip. "Like you said, the last time it ended in disaster."

"Jess, that's just another excuse."

He sighed, knowing this to be true, before saying. "Look … I'll talk to you soon, okay? I have a new author to meet in twenty minutes."

"Speak soon," Luke agreed, before hanging up.

-break-

He'd been trying to write for the past two hours, but his brain was stuck in a weird pattern, and he couldn't break from confusion. The conversation with Matt, and the phone call from Luke had really gotten into his head. He hated that. He hated that he was so insecure still about his decisions revolving around Rory that he let them all get to him. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to deal with what he was thinking. He wanted to lock it away in his head, only to be dealt with on page, like he had at eighteen. He could process it that way – he couldn't process anything while it was tangling in his brain, metastasising. Jess could never deal with his emotions like that. Everything was always clearer on a page.

He dragged his hands through his hair, and rubbed at his face, before leaning his elbows on the desk in front of him. His productivity had plummeted. It was pathetic, really, that she could still affect him like this.

She was arriving today. He felt sick.

His blank eyes found the grey sky outside, defocused, locked inside his own head, like he'd been for days. Luke's words had bothered him. But he didn't want to deal with it. He wanted to ignore it all. It was all too much for him. It couldn't be all or nothing, yet. They hadn't even discussed the possibility of them being together again – it was all irrelevant, really. She probably never even felt the same way when they were actually together, anyway. After all, the only reason they'd gotten together in the first place was because Dean had dumped her. If he hadn't, who knows? Maybe she would have never even thought of being with him. And extended from that, maybe he was just convenience. Maybe she had never loved him. What if he had spent all this time loving her – really, honestly loving her with every cell – and she hadn't even loved him in the first place?

His whole chest ached, somatic response to emotion. He felt sick.

There was no way it was a decision he had a right to make. He had built so much for himself here. He had fixed almost everything that had gone wrong. He had become a success at something he loved. He had friends he genuinely liked. He was self-sufficient. He was okay, for the first time he could remember.

His heart twinged, knowing 'okay' wasn't all it was cracked up to be, though.

He sighed, leaning his head heavily on this keyboard, allowing his forehead to type gibberish all over his carefully constructed total bullshit he'd been writing for days.

He felt sick.

He'd spoken with Matt and Chris about her visit after his discussion with Matt, to clear the air a little, really. Chris, ever the sensitive romantic of the two, was actually the most opposed to Rory's visit.

"Jess, if you want to fuck yourself over again, go ahead," was his parting words before he'd stormed out.

"We're just concerned. She's toxic to you," Matt had tried to explain. Jess bit back his scathing response, allowing his friend to continue. "We're going to close the store when she's here. That way me and Chris won't have to witness her fucking with you."

"You don't know her, Matt," he breathed, closing his eyes in frustration. "She doesn't do it on purpose."

"Doing it unintentionally is probably more dangerous."

"I hate that you both have this view of her." Matt shrugged, unconcerned. Jess continued, sighing harshly. "I hurt her way more than she hurt me."

Matt laughed without humour, shaking his head. "You really believe that?"

Jess wasn't sure how to respond, so he didn't. Matt shook his head at him, and left Jess in the seating area of the store, unsettled again with his own thoughts. As it turned out, 'clearing the air' had just made the air more thick.

-break-

Just outside Philly. See you soon x

Jess stared at his book, not even sure what book he was reading anymore. The words blurred. It was a familiar feeling, really – every time Rory came into the Diner when they had been kids, it had been the same. He used to stare at pages of books, hyper-aware of her presence somewhere behind him without even having to look around. She just had this air, and he knew.

The sign on the door to the store was turned to 'closed', so it stood to reason that she would knock. He placed his book down, not breathing. He wondered whether she knew she had this affect on him. Whether the calm he always tried to translate ever actually came across, or whether he seemed like the incredibly nervous wreck that he was. He could always tell when she was nervous.

The bell above the door jarred Jess a little, even though it was his own door. She jumped too, and he couldn't help but smirk as he met her eyes, doe-eyed and terrified. She took a moment to smile, and then she did, and his mouth curved into one just like hers.

"Hi," she said, fixing her bag on her shoulder awkwardly, straightening her blue dress.

"Hey," he responded, is voice soft. He stepped back, allowing her inside, and she accepted his unspoken invitation in equal silence. She stepped past him, his body almost reacting to her being so close that he could feel her body heat. He watched as his flesh goose-bumped, and he tried to warm his skin by rubbing his arms with either hand.

She looked hot. He hated himself for even thinking that.

She walked around, taking in all the books, and the posters and art on the walls, her dress brushing the back of her thighs. Eventually, after a few minutes, she turned and smiled brightly. "Just like I remember," she told him.

"It hasn't changed much," he agreed. Her eyes were bright, and she was watching him closely. His lip twitched in nervousness, before he covered this with a slow smirk. "Shouldn't we …?" he asked, meaning that they should begin the interview, but Rory interpreted it another way – or ignored him. She crossed the room towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Jess instantly felt as though he was being burned, but didn't dare flinch. His whole body was in vibration as she smoothed his shirt down his biceps, before pulling him into a hug, her body nestled to his. He couldn't stop his own arms pulling her closer, his eyes closing of their own volition.

"I've missed you," she whispered into his neck. He shivered, and he felt her smile against his neck as she placed a kiss there. All his worries melted as his insides thrummed in content. He kissed her hairline, hearing her giggle like the prettiest music he'd ever heard.

He was pathetic.

He pulled away, smiling awkwardly, trying not to make too much eye contact with her, scared of what he might see, there. He sat in the small seating area, a table between him and the adjacent chair, and gestured vaguely for her sit. She ignored him, of course, standing exactly where he left her.

He heard her sigh, but he ignored her obstinately, refusing to meet her eyes. "Should we start?" he asked quietly.

Rory paused, before she answered, "Sure." She rifled in her bag for a moment, before producing a digital recorder and a notebook. He focussed on her hands as she placed said items on the table and sat in the cushioned armchair. Her hands twisted together, and she crossed her left leg over her right, before she reached for the recorder, playing with it for a moment, before speaking again, making Jess look up at her. "Pretend … pretend you've never met me, okay?"

"What?" Jess asked in surprise.

"It'll make it less awkward. Well, I hope. Because this feels really awkward right about now. And I'm not sure if that's because I hugged you, or if it's just because it's us. So – just pretend, okay?"

Jess agreed by nodding, keeping his mouth in a straight line. Awkward was right. She rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan, brushing her long, brown hair behind her left ear, and smiled as she caught him watching her – the smallest of imperceptible smiles, but he caught it. He looked at the arms she bared, and noticed her skin was, once again, brilliant white like porcelain. He'd forgotten, in his nervousness, the circumstance of their last meeting.

"You're okay?" he asked, and winced at his belatedness.

She bit her lip, not meeting his eye, before nodding. "Yeah."

"Ror'?" he ducked his head to catch her eye, and eventually she did.

"I haven't heard from him since I quit. I'm hoping to never hear from him."

He nodded in agreement.

She took a breath, before plastering on a fake grin, and rolling her eyes, "Anyway, that's not pretending that you don't know me, is it?" she laughed lightly. "Nice to meet you, Mr Mariano," she smirked, reaching over to shake his hand. "I'm Lorelai Gilmore."

"Ew," he said, scrunching up his nose. "That's your mother."

"And how should you know, stranger?" she asked, rolling her eyes again. "Fine – fine. I'm Rory Gilmore."

"Nice to meet you, Ms Gilmore."

"Ms, huh?"

"You're saying you're still a Miss? I think that ship has sailed, Ror'." He laughed at her scandalised look, and finally, eventually felt at ease. And she looked at ease, too, as she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly over the table.

"Can we start now?" she asked, pseudo-exasperated. He smirked, crooking his eyebrow.

"Shoot."

-break-