Chapter 24

"For you," Elizabeth murmured, holding out a bright yellow tulip – root and all – to Jason when he opened the door to his penthouse. She'd gotten so nervous outside his building and knew she needed an icebreaker of some kind, and well, she was taking him on a date, so a flower was appropriate.

"Thanks," he laughed, looking pointedly at the root and shaking his head. "There are security cameras in front of the building."

Her mouth fell open and she placed a hand against her chest. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?" she asked coyly, grinning at his relaxed attire of jeans and a black t-shirt. She almost snickered at the thought of Jason pouring over what color t-shirt to wear just as she had done with every item in her closet.

"Unless the florist on Main Street is going about business in a new way," he replied, stepping back from the door to delicately lay the flower on his desk.

"Well, when the designated flower thief comes after me, you'll just have to let me borrow that fancy lawyer of yours," she said, leaning against the doorway. She refused to come inside, knowing that if she did, they'd never leave, and the entire purpose of having a date would be defeated.

"I'll be your alibi," he muttered, folding his arms awkwardly over his chest, clearly not sure of what else to do. "You know, those security cameras – the tapes are always so fuzzy anyway."

"And just what were we doing at the time of this supposed theft and damage to private property?" she asked curiously, brushing her loose curls away from her face. He grunted, looking away from her, and she found herself blushing too. "I should have known…"

"What?" he asked, laughing again as she shifted her eyes back to his.

"Pervert," she replied, flashing him a saucy smile. "What makes you think I'm that kind of girl?"

He arched an eyebrow as he slowly walked towards her. "We'll just have to see what happens," he muttered, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her gently, but with just enough force to leave her breathless. "You look beautiful."

"Jason," she sighed, burying her face in his t-shirt, not used to such flattery.

"You do," he repeated, brushing his lips against her temple as his hands roamed over her back.

Rolling her eyes, she tilted her head back and looked up at him. "I look like I always do," she said, trying to forget that it had taken her hours to find something revealing, but that didn't show too much, and still made her feel comfortable.

Elizabeth had picked Jason up for countless things; doctors appointments, designated driving, even dinner and a movie. She had dressed for these occasions, throwing on whatever items she believed were clean and didn't smell terribly bad, never hesitating to pull her hair into a messy bun or let her wild curls hang in tangles down her back. Sometimes she showered and sometimes she didn't, and she sure as hell didn't worry about shaving her legs, let alone waxing.

She decided to keep it simple for tonight, not wanting to overdo it; a simple green blouse with a semi-low neckline, jeans, a pair of sandals, and a head of messy, wild curls. After all, Jason had seen her dressed up and down to nothing but a pair of lacy underwear. Knowing him as well as she did, she knew he wouldn't have minded if she'd shown up with nothing on.

"You always look beautiful," he murmured, kissing her again, his hands fisted in the soft material of her blouse.

"Jason," she panted, placing her hands flat against his chest and pushing herself away from him, suddenly very thankful that she'd shaved her legs. She really had spent a good hour debating on whether not to, not wanting to be too easy, but she'd be lying to herself if she didn't expect to end up in his bed – or hers – by the end of the night.

"Sorry," he said, scrubbing a hand nervously over his face as if he'd done something wrong.

"It's okay," she replied, reaching out to pull his hand away. "I just…" She blushed, torn between throwing herself in his arms and pulling him out the door, but told herself she had to do the latter. That was just how it was supposed to be. "Dinner first." Her voice was anything but firm, and when he looked her up and down, she felt her knees go weak. "Later, we can…have dessert."

"Stop," Elizabeth murmured, her tongue snaking out to lick a line of barbecue sauce off her thumb.

Jason bit back a groan, sliding closer to her in the rounded booth in the back of Eli's. He wasn't surprised by the place she'd chosen for dinner. It'd been months since they'd eaten there, and he'd spent the last twenty minutes scolding himself for never realizing just how sexy a plate of ribs at Eli's could be.

"Seriously, stop it."

"I can't help it," he said, popping a fry into his mouth as she rolled her eyes.

He was honestly surprised with how at ease the two of them were. So much of the last week had been filled with tension, much of it very sexual, and he wasn't sure how to feel. It could have easily been lust, but being next to her like this, just having dinner and being able to admire her up close felt natural. He found himself wondering why they hadn't made it this far before and how he'd overlooked her all these years.

"Jason," she scolded, tossing a dirty napkin at him.

"So…" He started, not exactly sure what to follow it up with.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," she said, shaking her head at their silent banter of suggestive looks and knowing glances that they'd been shooting each other's way for the last forty-five minutes.

"What?" he asked, taking another drink of his beer.

"You cannot think of one thing to say to me?" she asked, folding her arms over his chest.

"I can think of a lot of things," he smirked, arching an eyebrow.

"You are such a pervert," she laughed, looking away from him.

"Fine," he said, holding his hands up and leaning against the leather back of the booth. She stared at him expectantly, waiting.

He really did hate her sometimes.

"Uh, what are…what are you going to do with all the money you made from your paintings last week?" he asked, going with the first thing that came to mind.

She smiled softly, shrugging half-heartedly as she contemplated her answer, and he knew it'd been a good place to start. "Buy more paint supplies," she offered, biting her lip. "I haven't really thought about it."

"Really?" he asked surprised. "You always seem to have a plan for things."

"Jerk," she muttered, grinning at his teasing. "I haven't thought about it in so long. I mean, for a while I never imagined I'd actually sell a painting, and I sure as hell didn't expect to last week." She propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. "Jason, when the gallery owner called me and said seven paintings were bought, I nearly fell over. I still don't understand it. Why would someone want something I made?"

"Because they're amazing," he murmured, making it simple.

"You can't see all the mistakes."

"You can't see how good they are."

"You're biased," she argued, stirring her straw around in her water.

"You're delusional."

Her eyes darkened and her lips twitched as she fought a grin. "For all of ten seconds, I forgot how annoying you are."

"Likewise," he grunted.

"Asshole."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, I think I do," she replied, leaning into him as he slipped his arm around her waist. She snuggled against his side, muttering further insults under her breath and laughing to herself.

"Hey," he whispered, brushing his lips over her ear as she reached for her drink.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip of her water as she looked over at him.

The second her glass was away from her lips, he pounced, taking her lips in his. She groaned against his mouth as his tongue flicked across her plump lower lip, granting him access to her mouth. His hand skimmed up her thigh, gripping it firmly and pulling it onto his own so he could angle her to face him. She fisted her hands in his t-shirt, tugging him closer as her tongue swirled against his, neither of them paying much attention to their surroundings.

"Oh, sorry," Elizabeth cried, when the waitress cleared her throat impatiently. She wiggled out of Jason's arms, clasping her hand to her mouth.

"We're good thanks," Jason muttered, automatically deducting a dollar or two from her tip for interrupting.

Elizabeth giggled, her face turning bright red beside him, and he couldn't resist leaning over and planting another one her. "Jason, we're in a family environment," she hissed, pulling back so that her lips hovered over his.

"And this is how families are made," he replied, slipping his hand beneath her flimsy blouse and palming her bare side.

"Stop," she pleaded, leaning away from him as she laughed. "You're going to get us kicked out."

Rolling his eyes, he scooted away from her and reached for his beer, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "What?" he shrugged, taking a long sip. "I stopped."

She wiped her hands off on her napkin and slid over to him, stretching to brush her lips against the side of his mouth. Her tongue snaked out, lapping at the corner of his lips, and he couldn't help but groan.

"What?" she asked sweetly. "You had some barbecue sauce."

"I did?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded, leaning against him as she traced his lips with her fingertip. "I think you've got some more."

"Elizabeth," he growled, turning his head away from her and waving to the waitress, who hurried over immediately. "We need our check. Now."

Sighing, Elizabeth squeezed Jason's hand as they walked slowly through the park, knowing sooner or later he was going to lose his patience.

Her gut was betting on sooner.

The entire evening had gone so smoothly once they'd gotten over their initial first date jitters. Jason finally stopped grinning at her like a loon, and she was nearing the point that she didn't blush every time he looked at her. It felt right to be snuggled beside him in a cozy booth and to be strolling leisurely through the park hand-in-hand, both of them silently contemplating how the night would end.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go home with him or that she wasn't prepared for what inevitably would happen. She was just scared and nervous, knowing that while she'd spent the entire evening with Jason, he wouldn't be just Jason after they slept together.

Not to mention that Jason Quartermaine's presence still hung between them, and she didn't know how to convince Jason that he really didn't matter, especially when a part of her would always hold onto him.

It was just all so confusing, and she almost hated him for making her feel this way.

"You okay?" he asked, bumping his arm against hers as they walked.

"Yeah," she murmured, feeling like a silly teenage girl as she let go of his hand and looked up at him. "We have to talk, Jason." His face fell, but he nodded understandingly, letting out a shaky breath. "I just…I want it all said and done so we can just let go."

"I know," he said, jerking his head towards the park bench at the end of the path.

She followed him quietly, trying to figure out what exactly to say or do, fearing she'd put her foot in her mouth and all the magic that surrounded them tonight would disappear. "I don't want to make things awkward," she muttered softly, slowly lowering herself to the bench. "But I need you to know…"

"I figured you would think about…," he replied, sitting down beside her, stretching one arm over the back of the bench.

"Not in the way you're thinking," she said defensively, shaking her head in frustration. "I know that you still have questions, and maybe you're as confused as me…" She paused, peeking at Jason through her lashes. "Being with you tonight feels normal and right, like this is how it should have been, and at the same time…"

"You're thinking about him," he murmured stiffly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

"Not like that," she repeated, turning to face him so that their knees touched. She picked at the hem of her blouse, not sure how to explain what she was feeling. "I've already told you how I don't want you to be him – that I never did, and I don't see him when I look at you, but I know…" She reached over to place a hand on his knee, thinking that if she touched him, she'd find some kind of comfort. "I told you how I feel, but you haven't told me anything."

He swallowed hard, his hand curling around her shoulder as he tipped his head towards her. "I never wanted to know anything about him, and I never thought I would."

"You do?" she asked curiously.

"Sometimes," he shrugged, his eyes softening. "I don't like that shutting him off hurt you, and I don't like that what you feel could be…" His voice trailed off and he looked away, closing down like he did when he was uncomfortable.

"I should have never voiced my fears until I worked through them," she replied, inching closer to him. "It doesn't feel the same, but yet it does, and I think what it comes down to is that I've only let myself really open up to two people. As odd as it is, those two people are just the same…" She laughed, realizing how ridiculous this must sound.

"It's okay," he said encouragingly, gently stroking her shoulder. "I want to understand what happened, and it frustrates me that I can't."

Sometimes she wondered if she could really explain what Jason Quartermaine meant or what happened or why she'd even hung onto him so desperately. He had been so many firsts; friend, crush, love, and she could explain that over and over and never do it justice. It was something only he could understand, and even if she wanted Jason to see it, he never would.

She shrugged, not sure what to say. "I don't know how to explain it, Jason."

"You don't have to," he replied, cupping her cheek in his hand. "It was between the two of you." He smoothed his thumb over her cheek. "I think I'd just like to have known who you used to be."

Laughing, she shook her head and he dropped his hand from her face. "I think I'm much better now." She settled into the crook of his arm and he held her tighter. "This feels the same, but it's also so new and different, and…"

"What?" he asked, leaning forward so he could look her in the eye.

"You – this, whatever it may be – I find myself wanting it all at once," she admitted shyly, shifting to slide her hand into her jeans pocket.

Elizabeth slipped something out, but balled it into her fist so that he couldn't see it. Pulling away, she sat up, turning so that her leg was draped over his thigh. "I have this box…at my studio...under the couch." She paused to make sure that he was listening. "I packed it up not too long after you woke up from the accident. There are pictures, books, an old jacket, and I never really look through it much, too many memories and all that."

"Very girl of me, right?" she asked, regretting that she'd even admitted to having the box in the first place, but it was true.

That morning she'd gone over to her studio and poured through the box one last time, and while a part of her would always miss him, she didn't pine for Jason Quartermaine or even want him. She'd gone with the intention of taping the box closed and hiding it in her storage closet, and when she'd picked up the hospital bracelet, she just couldn't let it go, and that was when she noticed the name.

Over Quartermaine, Jason had managed to scrawl Morgan, his grandmother's maiden name, the name of the only person from his family who'd ever really accepted him. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it in all the times over years that she'd stared at the bracelet, and she wondered if it was because she didn't want to see it.

Jason placed his hand over hers, gently prying her fingers apart to pull the thin yellow band from her palms. "You saved it," he murmured knowingly.

"You knew?" she asked, definitely regretting ever having brought it up in the first place.

"You cut it off and put it in your pocket at the hospital," he shrugged, giving her a crooked smile. "I figured it was something to you – something that belonged to Jason Quartermaine."

"I always told myself I kept it because it was the last thing that ever him," she said softly, smiling as his hand slid over her thigh, giving her a light squeeze. "And then I was thinking that, as silly as it sounds, maybe I held onto it…because in a way, it was the first thing that belonged to Jason Morgan."

"Or maybe I'm just trying to prove something to myself," she continued nervously. "I don't want you to think-"

"You don't have to prove anything to me," he interrupted, tucking the bracelet back into her palms. "I wanted you to be clear about what you felt." He brushed her curls from her face, tucking them behind her ear. "I didn't want you to have any regrets or to think that what you felt was connected to him or Johnny or anyone else."

"It's not," she said quietly, defending her emotions coming as an instant reaction. "I've just been so afraid. Everything's changed, and the last time that happened…" He nodded, tugging her towards him, his hand still gripping her thigh. "I want this. I do."

"Then forget about everything else," he whispered, leaning over to press his lips to hers. "Come home with me."

Every worry she had faded with his touch, and she smiled against his mouth as she slid her arms around his neck. "I thought I was the one taking you on the date," she said seriously. "I drove and would have paid for dinner if you hadn't been so sneaky and switched the credit cards on me – therefore I should get to choose-"

"Just this once don't fight me," he repeated, placing a finger against her lips. "Come home with me."