I've re-written chapter two of this story, so I'd advise you to go back and re-read it before reading this chapter!
Jess sighs as he gets up from his desk, which he has managed to fit into a corner of the small living room in the apartment and throws himself on the couch a few feet away.
It was useless. The inspiration was gone. It had left him at the very moment he saw her at that art-show. Almost a week has passed and he hasn't written a word; most of the time he simply sat in front of his computer and stared at it.
What was she doing in New York? Did her being here meant that she had left Logan? Or was he with her? Had they moved here or were they only visiting? Had he been at the art-show as well? Would he run into her again? What would she have said if he had approached her at the art-show? Why hadn't he?
The questions, which he had no answer to, had been circling through his mind all week, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else.
He hadn't seen Rory seen she left Truncheon that night seven years ago. He hadn't wanted to. He hadn't been able to.
He had done everything in his power to force himself to stop thinking about her; he had drowned himself in work, he had dated other women, he had gotten drunk. But nothing had helped. Someone's perfume on the bus, a smile that reminded him of hers, a set of blue eyes meeting his, a book he read, a commercial on TV featuring a voice which said a random word the same way she did; there was always something to remind him of what he had lost.
He had cut her out of his life completely. It had been hard, seeing as they, in some weird way, had become family when his uncle had married her mother. He made sure to never visit them if there was even the slightest chance that Rory would show up.
At times it got awkward, but the three of them had gotten used to it and throughout the years they had managed to keep conversations on any subject but Rory and he had almost even established some kind of truce with Lorelai, even though she would probably never forgive him for not being there for Luke on their wedding day.
He casts a glance at his phone that lies on the small table in front of the couch. He wondered what she was doing tonight; if she was at another art-show in town. Maybe if he started going to these things that Jake always tried to drag him to maybe he would run into her again. Maybe if he saw her again he could talk to her; get answers to some of those questions.
He sighs. There must be a thousand different art-shows and similar events taking place on a Friday night in New York. He couldn't possibly go to them all even if he wanted to. She could be anywhere; fund-raisers, charity-events, art-shows, and a whole bunch of other events; it was impossible.
Unless… No, he couldn't. Calling Luke and after four years of not mentioning her name suddenly ask if he knew what Rory was doing in New York and if he had any idea which event, if any, she was attending tonight was a ridiculous idea.
But he had to do something. He had to find the answers to some of those questions so he could once again move on with his life. At least he told himself that's why needed the answers.
He needed to know if she had moved her permanently, so he would be prepared to possibly run into her at occasion. And if she had, he had to know if she was still with Logan; so he could prepare himself for that.
That was all. He needed answers so he could go on living a normal life and get his inspiration back. Nothing else. He only needed to know what to prepare himself for.
If she wasn't with Logan, maybe he wouldn't even have to avoid her… No, that was dangerous grounds – he shouldn't go there. She was a part of his past, and she would keep being a part of his past – not his future.
Why hadn't he walked up to her when he recognized her at the art-show? He could have gotten all the answers he needed right there and then.
Maybe he had been too much in a shock when discovering that it was really her and not just some girl that looked like her. And he had been scared, scared to learn that she still had that effect on him; that her mere vision could stun him like that.
And that look on her face that he hadn't been able to put his finger on had chased away the last bit of courage he might have had. Coldness. Her face had looked cold. Cold and hard. Two features he would never have imagined seeing in her face.
What had she been through to put that look on her face?
A beeping sound from his phone, lying on the small table in front of the couch, brings him back to reality. He picks it up and looks at it; a text message from Jake.
Beers at the pub tonight?
He hesitates before answering. The pub down the street was probably not the kind of place where he would run into her. At least not judging by the crowd she'd been talking to at the art-show or the expensive clothes she'd been wearing. He's not sure whether that makes it a good place to hang out tonight or not.
Sure
He types quickly and sends Jake the answer. He wouldn't get any work done tonight anyway and a distraction would probably do him good.
A considerable amount of time later Jess fumbles with the keys to his apartment while the blonde woman with amazing legs fumbles with his shirt. After a great amount of effort he manages to unlock the door and let them both in.
The woman closes the door behind them and pushes his back against the door as she crashes her lips to his and starts ripping his shirt off. He helps her with the task and he hears her breathing heavily as he kisses her neck and continues down via her shoulders and her collarbone to the place close to her breasts where the tight, red, strapless dress she's wearing starts. When he reaches it he finds his way back to her mouth and her willing lips.
She grabs his hair with her fingers and presses his mouth closer to hers as she steps out of her shoes. He follows suit and then runs his hands down her body to grab her thighs and lift her up. Without letting go of his mouth she wraps her legs around his waist as he makes his way towards the bedroom.
The next morning he wakes up with a headache and a mouth as dry as sand. He looks at the woman still sleeping next to him, her blonde hair spread in a mess around her face. With a deep sigh he climbs out of the bed and puts on a pair of sweats lying on the floor before heading to the kitchen.
"Water." Is the only coherent thought he's able think as he opens the fridge and reaches for a bottle. He takes several gulps, almost emptying the bottle, before putting it down on the counter.
Yesterday had been a disaster. He hadn't been drinking like that in years. Now he knows why. The hangover, the girl in his bed, the hole that is probably still burning on his credit card – all of the above are well justified reasons for not to drink like that. Ever.
But he had to do something to stop himself from staring at the entrance to the pub every other second waiting for a certain brunette to walk in. He couldn't take this. Why couldn't she have stayed on the east coast, thousands of miles away?
The blonde girl in his bed had been another way of trying to distract his thoughts from Rory when the alcohol alone hadn't proved to be efficient enough.
A short glimpse, a few seconds if only counting the time he'd been sure it was actually her. That was all that was needed to mess everything up like this. It had to be insanity of some kind. Maybe he should sign himself in somewhere, get his brain checked.
He takes another gulp of water. He needs to do something to fix this, to get his life back to normal again. He needs to know what she's doing in New York.
"Is that water?" A soft voice asks from behind and he feels arms being wrapped around his body and a warm, naked body pressed against his back.
He untangles himself from the embrace and turns around, reaching her the bottle of water. His mistake, she wasn't completely naked; she had put her panties on.
She drinks from the bottle and then hands it back to him. "Come back to bed." She says in what he thinks is an attempt to sound seducing.
He shakes his head with a distant look in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I have some place I need to be." He tries to sound excusing, as if he actually would have wanted her to stay, but really all he can think of is the fastest way to get her out of the apartment.
She gives him a challenging look and puts her hand on her hip. "Really? Like where?"
"Stars Hollow."