I.
She stops them this time.
"We shouldn't," she murmurs, reaching up to kiss him at the same time the words are leaving her mouth.
He pretends not to hear her until her hands are pushing at his chest to keep him away. Finally, he stops.
They're standing in his bedroom at this point, both breathing heavily with fingers grasping at each other's clothes.
"Are you still with Finn?" he questions mischievously, knowing very well the answer.
She lets out a laugh that's almost too loud, tilting her head back in the process. "No. Definitely not."
He smiles at her and kisses her squarely on the forehead before walking towards the nightstand and his cellphone. "I'll call you a cab."
"Wait," she protests, pulling him back to her by the hand. When he's facing her again she smiles, shoots him a playful glare. "Geez, Jesse. Is it put out or get out with you?"
He grins sheepishly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just thought," he begins.
"I'd like to stay, if that's okay," she interrupts, "I just think that we should talk some more before…"
He nods and turns away from her again, this time opening the top drawer of his dresser and reaching for a t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers before handing them to her.
"There are extra toothbrushes under the sink," he explains, gesturing with his chin towards his bathroom.
When she returns, dressed in his clothes, he has changed too and is sitting in the chaise lounge flipping through the channels.
"It's been a long time since I brushed my teeth with a purple sparkle toothbrush," she says, smiling.
She dumps her clothes on the chair by the desk and makes her way over to him, sitting by his feet on the chaise.
"Does she know about Shelby?"
Jesse nods. "She knows that her mom died when she was two and that she asked me to take care of her. I've never told her about her birth parents, though. I know she'll start asking more questions soon but I'm not sure how to explain to an eight-year-old that she was adopted twice."
"You could tell her that she is the luckiest little girl in the world."
She motions for him to make room for her next to him, and, when he does, she curls up against him in the chair.
"You never told her about me," she almost whispers. It's a statement, not a question.
"I've thought about it," he answers truthfully, "But I didn't know what to say."
"I'd like to get to know her better," Rachel states cautiously, shifting slightly so that she can read the reaction on his face.
"How long are you planning on being in LA?"
She bristles at his practical question. She knows where his mind is going and she hates him for assuming that she means this as a temporary thing, that she'll just up and leave Es after making some sort of connection with her.
She hates even more that her track record where they are concerned proves him right.
"A while," she answers vaguely, "Kurt managed to get me an apartment in his building on Malibu. I'm thinking of doing some guest spots, maybe some small concerts. I needed a change."
"Sounds like fun."
She hasn't seen him in years, but she knows him well enough to hear the slight mocking in his tone.
She gets up from the chair. He knows her too, and he can tell that he has hurt her.
"I was seventeen and you were asking me to be her mother, Jesse. You don't get to hold that against me forever. I won't just walk away."
"Again," he adds, unable to help himself.
She glares at him. "Then why am I here? Why did you bring her to that signing tonight? I thought that this meant you were willing to let me back into your life."
"I can't risk any upheaval in her life. If you're doing this, you have to be sure, Rachel. She's not two anymore. She'll remember everything this time."
"Okay," she concedes, trying to diminish the heightening tension in the room. "I really want to do this. I want to get to know my little sister."
He drops his head and quirks a smile, not the reaction she was expecting. "What?" she questions him, not quite managing to hide her own smile at his cute reaction.
"Nothing," he says, shaking his head, "It's just hearing you call her your little sister makes this," he motions between the two of them, "it just seems a little, I don't know … illicit?"
She laughs. "I didn't think about that. It is sort of odd."
"And what about me?" he asks in a mock wounded tone, "Are you at all interested in spending time with me?"
She nods her head and plays with the hem of her t-shirt. "I missed you."
They talk some more. He brushes over her attempts to find out more about his life, complaining about the monotony of PTA meetings and soccer practices. He begs her to dish on the exciting life of Broadway and fame, so she indulges him, giving him the inside scoop on some sensational stories, most of which had been successfully kept out of the media.
After being completely open about his almost complete lack of relationships in the last six years, he questions her about her past boyfriends, a topic she's been trying to avoid all night. He realizes he's probably hit a nerve when she forces a yawn and tells him that it's three hours later in New York and way past her bedtime.
He turns off the light and draws her over to his side of the bed, threading his arms around her waist. She reaches down and links fingers with him.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promises.
II.
The next day, she meets Kurt at his apartment and watches as he unpacks his suitcase. She's waiting for his former neighbor to drop off the key to her new sublet.
Kurt has just returned from a short trip to Ohio where one of his cousins on his mom's side of the family got married. Her dads moved to Manhattan a couple of years ago and Kurt is one of the few people she keeps in touch with from high school, so she (thankfully) hasn't had much reason to go back to Lima recently.
When she asks him how Lima was, Kurt responds, "Finn says hi," and Rachel rolls her eyes.
"How was your time in LA without me? Wasn't the Apricot hotel fabulous?" Kurt's fashion designer boss had paid for him to spend a week there when he initially moved to LA six months ago, before he found his apartment, and the minute Rachel had told him that she was coming to join him, he had made a reservation in her name for the night he wouldn't be in town.
"I wouldn't know," Rachel answers cryptically, awaiting his reaction to her words. She doesn't have to wait long. He turns so fast, his hair lifts a bit with the force.
"Pray tell, diva. Did you bed some handsome Hollywood star?"
"No. I spent the night with Jesse."
"Who is Jesse?"
"Jesse St. James. My ex-boyfriend Jesse St. James. Vocal Adrenaline. Sophomore year. Remember?"
"Vaguely. Didn't he throw eggs at you?"
Kurt sounds as if he is really struggling to remember. Rachel is not surprised. Once she and Finn had started dating, she had buried everything about Jesse in the back of her mind, and never spoke about him with anyone, not even her new best friend. Then Shelby's funeral happened, and she hadn't spoken of that night with anyone ever. Sometimes, in her darkest moments, she had even managed to convince herself that Jesse and Beth had existed only in her head.
"Why on earth would you go see him? Is he famous now or something?"
She knew it was time to fill her best friend in on all that she had neglected to tell him in the last six years. If she is going to be a part of Es and Jesse's lives, then all this has to be in the open.
Kurt looks as if he doesn't recognize her when she finishes telling him the story. He sits on his bed and folds his hands in his lap. "I have a multitude of questions."
"Shoot," she replies.
"You cheated on Finn with him, and then left him to raise Puck and Quinn's daughter, and now you want to play house with them after six years."
"That wasn't a question."
Kurt fixes her with an angry stare. "This is ludicrous, Rachel! I know you've been resisting these last couple of months, but I really do think you need to see a therapist."
"I'm fine, Kurt. I think that this is exactly what I need."
"Did you tell him about Tyler?"
Kurt interprets her silence, rightly, as "no."
He looks like he is going to chastise her some more, but Rachel beats him to the punch, "There's no reason for him to know."