Author's note: I am overwhelmed by the reaction to this story. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, followed and favorited so far! Just a note that this story is INSPIRED by Ever After and not really a direct rewrite. So if that's what you're looking for, then sorry. But there will be echoes of it, because I love it so much. :D

Warning: This chapter contains a brief description of a dub con scenario (not Killian and Emma). So if that bothers you, you've been warned. It's not too graphic or anything though.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 2

Killian rubbed his eyes, thoroughly annoyed that he'd essentially been staring at the same data for ten minutes and not comprehending an iota of it. "Come on, mate," he chided himself. "You're better than this. If she calls, she calls."

He had to resist the urge to look at his phone again, somehow paranoid that he'd missed her. Which was insane because his ringer was not only on but turned up to its highest setting.

God, was he pathetic or what?

Twenty four hours ago, none of this would have mattered. If he'd just gotten his coffee and gone to Robin's, he wouldn't be sitting at his makeshift desk (an old door bolted to a couple of saw horses) staring at important data but not seeing it. He'd probably be grumbling about how England lost (did they lose? He didn't even know) to Will as he headed out to check his traps. Killian much preferred the hands on part of his research to writing.

Hands on. Killian sighed heavily, the unbidden image already in front of him. Emma's lithe body grinding in his lap, practically begging for his touch. His hands on her, smoothing over her pale skin, palming her perfect breasts.

Bloody hell. He knew he should stop—for Christ's sake, she hadn't even called him back yet—but he was helpless against his body's reactions. From the moment he kissed her, he was lost. Up until then, he'd pretended it was a game, a game he was determined to win. Then she let him pull her into his lap and taste her skin. Killian's hand drifted down to the growing bulge in his pants, even now the memory of it driving him crazy. He sighed, pressing down against it, remembering how Emma moved.

He wouldn't have suspected her earlier clumsiness from their encounter. Her movements were fluid and smooth, back arched, legs spread as she straddled him, hips rocking over his erection. Killian slid his hand under his running shorts, forcing the fabric down to free his cock. He leaned back in the chair, sighing, lightly stroking. His eyes fell closed thinking about how she tasted, his mouth teasing her nipples, the breathy sighs and moans.

God, she was beautiful.

He imagined all the things he'd wanted to do had they been somewhere less exposed. Lick every inch of her until she was begging for him to take her. Have her kneel between his legs and suck him off. Killian's hand moved faster, thumb swiping at the precum with practiced ease. He bit his lip, imagining her pink lips around his cock, licking him until he was cross eyed and gasping.

"Fuck," he muttered, hips rolling into his fist. He wanted to know what she felt like. Tight? Hot? Had she been wet for him? Had she wanted him inside her? Killian hadn't wanted anyone that badly in a long time, and watching her dry hump him until she orgasmed was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

Killian squeezed his eyes shut as he came, a hoarse grunt spilling from his lips. He panted as he came down, his hand and clothes covered in his sticky mess.

He couldn't even feel bad about it.

No, the guilt he felt about wanting her at all far outweighed fantasizing abut her.

He'd stopped at Starbucks on a whim, craving an iced coffee before heading to Robin's house. In, out, no big deal. But no sooner was he in the door than hot coffee splashed down his front and a horrified female voice spouted apologies. Well, his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, so he immediately tried to comfort her, to assure her that no lasting harm had been done.

That's when he saw her face.

It took a moment for it to register, but it was undoubtedly her. Apple Lady, as he'd taken to calling her in his head. He hadn't seen her since dropping off her bags, but he wasn't likely to forget that blonde hair or those kissable lips. She was still apologizing, looking right at him with no recognition whatsoever. Which figured. He didn't expect someone like her to remember someone like him. He passed guests all the time at the resort; most only gave staff the briefest of nods, if they got acknowledged at all.

So if she didn't remember him, he wasn't going to enlighten her.

But he couldn't help but be endeared to the way she fussed, embarrassed at her clumsiness. It made her cheeks flush in a very pleasing way, her long lashes brush her cheek as she tried to look anywhere but at him. He was charmed by her in spite of himself. Hell, he even flirted with her.

So it stunned him to his core when she flirted back.

Not one to really look a gift horse in the mouth, he ran with it, buying her coffee, bantering with her. Her name meant nothing to him; obviously, she came from a wealthy background or she wouldn't have been staying at Crocodile Bay. She seemed to perk up at that; it wasn't difficult to figure out that she was a bit put off by fawning people. It was so different from his initial impression of her.

Perhaps that was what compelled him to ask her out. He expected her to reject him. What he didn't expect was for her to not only agree, but then immediately assume he wanted to see her half naked and wet. Which now...well, yeah he did (he was a gentleman, not dead), but that had been the furthest thing from his mind in the moment. He was curious about her, wondering which impression was the right one.

That's why he took her to the arcade. He expected her to turn her nose up at any moment, but she never did. And she never shied away from him either, even when it was obvious they were standing closer than was strictly necessary. She just seemed like a normal girl, having fun, flirting with a guy she just met.

Then came the ice cream and the kiss and the grinding and he knew he would regret it if he didn't see her again. He liked her, beyond just being attracted to her. She was fun and smart and pretty.

And ridiculously out of his league.

Crocodile Bay had a no fraternization policy. Staff and guests...big no no. People often came for weeks on end, gorgeous Hawaiian sun, romantic fairy tale-esque atmosphere...it wasn't difficult to turn a few heads, go for some discreet flirting. There was an urban legend among the staff that their boss Regina had fallen for a guest back in the day, that it had ended tragically. Killian didn't know if that was true or not, but he knew a couple of people who'd gotten fired for spreading the rumor.

He'd never even given it a thought. Until now.

Mentally berating himself for his stupidity, he headed for the bathroom to clean up. He stripped off his clothes and hopped in the shower, hoping the hot water would clear his head. He absolutely would not think about how Emma would look in his shower, naked, wet, pressed up against him.

Perhaps she'd never call and he could just get back to his life.

Shutting off the water (after scrubbing himself twice), he stepped out and grabbed a towel. Drying off, he wrapped the towel around his hips and headed out to his closet for some clean clothes.

"Oi! Anybody here?" It was Will.

"Back here, mate!" Killian called, hastily pulling on a fresh pair of jeans. Will was his friend, but there were some things they didn't share.

Will's boots clomped on the hardwood floors. "I was about ta call out a search party for ya, Jones," he said, stepping around a pile of Killian's books. The studio apartment wasn't very big, essentially one room with a cramped but serviceable kitchen and the bathroom. "Where were ya, anyway?"

Killian shrugged. "Something came up."

Will's brow creased. "That's what Robin said. But it's not like ya ta miss a match."

"I know. I just...got distracted."

"Would this distraction be of the female variety?"

"Is that your business?"

Will plopped himself down on Killian's bed. "When my best mate misses England versus Brazil—we got slaughtered by the way, thanks for askin'—then doesn't call or text in over twenty four hours...yeah, that's my business."

Killian groaned. "Has it really been that long?" He ignored the tiny kernel of disappointment as he considered that she really might not be calling him at all. That was good, it would make his life infinitely easier. Right? He didn't have time to date, he had work and his research.

Then he thought about the way she smiled and his heart squeezed. He couldn't deny it. He wanted to see her again. Maybe even take her out on a real date. There was just something about her that intrigued him.

"Killian?" Will said, snapping his fingers in Killian's face. "You in there, mate?"

"Sorry. You were saying?"

"It was a woman," he shot back, smug. "Spill."

Killian rolled his eyes. "Everything's a woman with you, Scarlet."

"And nothing's a woman with you. If it's got you in this much of a snit, then it has to be a woman. And not just the shag and run variety either."

Killian pulled a faded blue t-shirt out of his dresser and threw it on. "If I tell you will you leave me alone, so I can get some work done?"

"You got a beer?"

"Come on, you drunken lout." But it was said fondly with no heat. They'd been friends for years, too used to each other's quirks. Will was the first Englishman he'd met when came to the North Shore, had helped him find his place. Will liked a pint, a lass and some revelry...in that order. When he could combine all three, he was in heaven.

He doesn't like blondes, Killian thought idly, reaching into his fridge for a bottle. He'd gotten used to the way Americans took their beer, even if most of it tasted like piss. Killian knew the story; Will had imparted it late one night not long after Killian had met him, half passed out on the floor of this very apartment. It was the only time Will had even spoken of her, Anastasia. They'd come to Hawaii to start over and she'd run off with an older, richer man after a few months. Will never saw her again.

Killian respected his friend's privacy, knew what it was like to want to avoid a painful past. He'd returned the favor, entrusting his own tale on a similar occasion. But Will's dislike of blondes did make him wonder what he would make of Emma.

"So who is she?" Will asked, accepting the beer.

Killian shrugged. "Just a girl." He took a pull from his own beer. "She spilled coffee on me in bloody Starbucks."

Will slammed down his drink. "On your kit? Is she mad?" he asked indignantly. One point against her for not understanding the importance of a football fan's kit.

Killian kicked Will under the table. "She didn't do it on purpose, you daft git. It was an accident. Some bleach and it'll be good as new."

Will looked skeptical, but nodded. "So this girl nearly ruins your clothes and you what? Asked her out on a date?"

"Something like that," Killian mumbled.

"Killian, if you needed a lass, all you had to do was call me."

"Why is everything about sex with you?"

Will frowned. "So...you didn't bed her? Are you ill?"

Killian got up in a huff, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "There is nothing wrong with me, damn it! Why can't I just like her?"

"Mate, ya haven't even told me her name yet."

Killian leaned back against the counter, sighing heavily. "Emma. Her name is Emma." He didn't mention her last name; that was more than Will needed to know.

"So this Emma spills coffee all over yer kit, ya take her out...and what?"

"Why am I even talking about this with you?"

"Because I'm the only who'll listen. Now quit bellyachin' and tell yer damn story."

So he did. Well, almost all of it. He didn't mention her staying at the Crocodile, knew it would be an unnecessary complication. Besides, if Emma never called him then no one needed to know anyway. She could just be a pleasant memory for him.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

Emma's feet pounded the pavement as she ran. Well, jogged. Since it didn't appear that she was leaving anytime soon, she decided it would be a good idea to have at least a little routine. A little yoga in the morning, a couple mile jog in the cooler evenings. Another of Elsa's brilliant ideas.

She was avoiding and she knew it. Elsa knew it. For the first day or so after her impromptu date, they didn't discuss it beyond Emma's initial telling of the story. Elsa had been thrilled, despite the ungodly hour. But when she asked if Emma was going to call him, Emma clammed up. She made some excuse about needing to get to bed, but she knew Elsa wasn't fooled.

The truth was, Emma didn't know if she was going to call him or not. An impulsive one off date seemed a lot less scary than trying the dating thing. She hadn't come there to date. But she couldn't deny that part of her really wanted to see him again. Her dreams were haunted by the way he touched her, the unfinished feeling of it all. She'd woken up hot and wanting more than once.

Which was why she was running.

It had been three days now and she still didn't know what to do. She tried weighing the pros and cons, but Elsa insisted she was overthinking it. And she probably was. She could try and rationalize it by pretending she was making Killian sweat, but that was a lie. She wasn't the "hard to get" girl. Emma had always mocked those girls. But after Neal...she was scared to put herself out there again. Even now. It was a hell of a lot scarier than walking into a boardroom.

When Emma got back to her bungalow, there was another message from Elsa. Downing an entire bottle of water, she dialed, putting it on speaker.

"You still haven't called him, have you?" Elsa said without preamble.

"Well, hello to you too," Emma said sarcastically.

"Emma," Elsa replied, her voice softer.

"Elsa."

Elsa sighed. "I've been avoiding this, hoping you'd figure it out on your own, but really. Tell me one good reason not to call him."

"I barely know him." Which sounded weak, even to her.

"You can't get to know him better if you don't call him."

"What if that night was a fluke?" She was certain they had a connection; she wasn't that blind. It just wasn't something she was overly familiar with. She'd known Neal for years before they started dating and she'd been so, so wrong about him.

"So what if it was? Again, you won't know if you don't take a chance."

"You know that's highly ironic coming from you, right?"

"We're not talking about me, Emma," Elsa chided. But Emma could hear the faint sound of sadness in her voice. She wished there was something she could do for her friend. Elsa deserved to be happy.

Emma put down her water bottle and put the phone back to her ear. "Okay, what if it wasn't?" she said worriedly. And that was what she was really afraid of. It always started so well...then there was a change and not for the better.

"You're not looking to marry him, Emma," Elsa said gently. "Just one date. See what happens."

"Oh, I think I know what would happen," Emma said with a shaky laugh.

"Well, you did say he was hot."

"Yeah, hot doesn't really cover it." She paused, thinking. "Scrumptious? Gorgeous? Did I mention the blue eyes?"

Elsa laughed. "You did. Several times. He's English?"

"Yep."

"I've always wanted to go there." They had a few casual acquaintances in New York, but Elsa, unlike Emma, had never left the country.

"Well, you have shaken hands with William and Kate. That's got to count for something."

"I'll remember that the next time I'm looking at a picture of Buckingham Palace. You're avoiding again."

"Okay, okay. I'll call him. Tomorrow. He's probably studying or something."

Elsa tutted over the line, but seemed to accept that reasoning. They gossiped a bit about things in New York, then hung up. Emma showered and changed into her makeshift pajamas, then watched a couple of cheesy movies on pay per view. She was deliberately distracting herself, knowing that if she didn't she'd chicken out. Emma wasn't an impulsive person, generally. Dropping everything and coming to Hawaii on a whim was, as Elsa had said, extreme behavior for her.

But the time away from home...Emma couldn't deny she felt better, more comfortable in her own skin. With no act to put on, she could just be. And this guy really seemed to like her, Emma. No pretenses. It was definitely attractive...he was attractive. Okay...he just might be the hottest guy she'd ever met, but she wasn't about to say that out loud. Certainly not to him.

Decision made, she went to bed.

"Hey, it's Killian. Clearly I'm busy, so leave a message."

Emma frowned as she waited for the beep. It was only around nine o'clock, he was probably at work. Yeah, Emma, people do that, she chided herself. Stop being ridiculous. "Um, hi. It's Emma, the girl from the other night? Of course you remember. Sorry." God, she was babbling. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to, I don't know, do something later? Unless you're working. Or hate me for waiting so long to call." She winced. "Just let me know. Or don't. Bye." She pressed the end button and groaned. "Good job, Emma. That didn't sound pathetic at all."

She shook it off and started to make her breakfast. She was learning, but she could make scrambled eggs without too much trouble. She was running out, so decided to get some when she went out later. She absolutely would not be sitting by her phone, waiting for it to ring. If he was going to call, then he would.

It was lunch time by the time she had a chance to go into town. The resort had some perfectly fine shops, but Emma liked the little town. It felt more like she was living on her own, than staying on vacation. She'd never truly lived on her own. The closest she'd gotten was at NYU, but even that was a short drive from her parents' penthouse. If she needed something she just called and their staff took care of it.

It was a hell of a way to live.

The resort staff kept her linens clean, vacuumed, did her laundry. She'd acquired more clothes since arriving, having only brought enough for a week or so. This trip really had been impulsive; she'd not come very prepared. And certainly nothing date worthy, not that she was worried about that. At all.

Emma walked out of the little market she'd found, her arms laden with bags. There were a few recipes she'd been eyeing in her cookbook; she wanted to take a stab at them. She got extra in case she burned something, which had already happened on a couple of embarrassing occasions. She was nearly to her car when her phone rang.

"Damn it," she muttered. She hurried to the trunk and dropped her bags, reaching into her pocket for her phone. Her heart sped up when she saw who it was. "Hello?"

"Emma?" Killian's voice sounded slightly flat over the connection. "It's Killian."

"I know," she blurted. "Caller ID."

"Oh, right." Killian chuckled. "Sorry I missed you earlier. I was neck deep in a Suburban's engine block."

Emma smiled; she'd been right. "It's no big deal." Keep it casual, Emma.

There was a sound like cars going by. "So...you wanted to do something?"

"Um, yeah. If you want to. I had fun the other night."

She could almost hear his grin. "I did too." There was a grunt and a huff. "Oi! Watch where you're going, mate!"

Emma frowned. "Where are you?"

"At the market," he replied, irritated. "Bloody idiotic drivers."

A chill ran down her spine. No way. No way. That would just be too weird, right? "Um, which market?"

Killian laughed. "Love, there's only one. This town's not that big."

"You mean the one on Kuilima?"

"Aye, why?"

"Because I'm there right now." She looked up toward the doors, searching for him. She even got on her toes to see better. And suddenly, there he was, stepping out from around the corner, looking around for her. She waved, a bit hesitantly. When he saw her, his face lit up and she had to suppress a grin of her own.

"Well, I'll be buggered," Killian said into the phone, while looking right at her.

"Um, hi?"

"Stay right there, love." He hung up and stroke toward her with long purposeful strides. He stopped right in front of her, still smiling. "Well, this is a most pleasant surprise, I must say."

"You always talk like that?" she asked, trying not to stare at his bared arms. Because holy shit. The shirt he'd worn the other night did not even begin to do him justice. Emma swallowed, almost imperceptibly shifting her weight from foot to foot. He wore a gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and dark jean shorts. Her fingers itched to take the shirt off and see if the rest of him was as well defined as his biceps. Down, girl.

Killian frowned. "Like what?"

"Like it's 1850 or something."

He shrugged. "Don't think that's something I can help, love."

Emma shoved her hands in her pockets nervously. "No, I mean, it's fine. It's just...not something you hear every day. I like it." Shit, had she really said that out loud?

Killian's cocky smirk was back. "Then I shall endeavor to continue."

Well now what? Here he was in front of her and she suddenly felt like a clueless fifteen year old with a crush. Which was ridiculous considering what they'd done the other night. "So, um..."

"You said something about going out tonight?"

Emma sighed in relief. "Yeah. If you're not busy."

"I'm not busy in the slightest."

"No friend thing to duck out of?" she teased.

"I'm afraid not. Just a drink with a beautiful lass. If she wishes, that is."

Emma grinned. "Yes. I'd like that." And perhaps more than a drink?

Killian's face softened; he took a step toward her, his hand coming up to gently brush her cheek. "I'd really like to kiss you right now."

Emma took a shallow breath, her eyes flickering to his lips. Would they be as soft as she remembered? Had that night been a fluke? There was only one way to find out. She licked her lips unconsciously. "So kiss me."

His smile flickered for the briefest moment, then he surged forward, capturing her lips. Emma made a surprised sound in the back of her throat, her hands flying up to his arms to brace herself. There was the softness she remembered, the warmth, the hint of passion. Killian's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, his tongue trailing over her bottom lip. She opened without hesitation, caught up in the moment. It only lasted a few tantalizing seconds, then Killian pulled away abruptly, leaving them both panting.

"You are far too tempting, lass," Killian muttered, his thumbs caressing her lower back.

"Sorry?"

Killian shook his head. "No, don't apologize. I'm rather fond of it."

Emma chuckled breathlessly. "I couldn't tell."

"Shall I enlighten you?"

God, did she want him to. But they were in the middle of a very public parking lot. And she still barely knew him. Emma forced herself to straighten up, even though she remained in the circle of his arms. "Easy, tiger. We've got drinks later."

Killian chuckled, giving her another one of those smiles that made her knees weak. "Very well, lass. Pick you up at nine?"

"You don't even know where I'm staying."

Killian glanced away, then back. "Perhaps I was hoping you would share?"

He's just being a gentleman, you idiot, Emma scolded herself. "Crocodile Bay, Bungalow 205. Don't be late."

His smile was back. "I assure you, love, I'm never late." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "See you tonight."

"Okay." She felt oddly cold when he stepped away, in spite of the heat. Killian winked and waved one last time before heading back in the direction of the market.

Alright, Emma, she thought as she got into her car, you've got a date. Try not to screw it up.

Killian couldn't believe it. Just when he'd all but given up hope of the gorgeous blonde calling him, she not only called but they ran into each other in the parking lot of the local market. What were the odds of that? His head still reeling, he went through the motions of his shopping, barely seeing what he was buying.

He could still feel her lips on his.

He didn't even understand what made him do it. But having her there in front of him, looking delightfully casual in a tank top and shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, he was drawn to her. He didn't expect her to just let him kiss her, right there in front of whoever walked by, but just like the other night, she surprised him.

And damn could she kiss.

He'd never felt anything quite like it and it seemed like she felt the same way. At least he hoped she did. Either that or she was a hell of an actress.

Killian shook his head, realizing he was being stupid. He still barely knew her, something he was going to remedy as soon as possible. He liked her and wanted to know her better. Tonight would be an excellent start. And if something else happened? Well, that was alright too.

He was in the middle of getting ready when his phone rang. "Jones," he said, a bit annoyed. He had just stepped out of the shower.

"Got plans tonight, mate?" Will asked.

Killian groaned. His friend would never let him hear the end of this. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"That lass finally call your sorry ass?"

Killian ground his teeth in annoyance. "Aye, she did. We're going out for a drink in a little bit."

"Just a drink?"

"Will..."

"Oh come on, mate. You can't tell me that if she wants you you're gonna be daft enough to refuse!"

"Of course not, you bleeding ponce! But I do actually like her. As more than just a piece of ass."

"If you say so, Jones. Fine, go on your date. Mind if I swing by?"

"Fuck you, Scarlet."

"Love you too, mate." Will hung up, still laughing.

Killian tossed his phone on the bed and went to his closet. Will was right. He was being stupid. It was a drink with a lass. He'd done it dozens of times. Some went well, some went horribly wrong. But he could feel it. There was something different about this one. Emma wasn't just some random lass. He really genuinely liked her and it scared him.

It had been so long since he'd wanted anything for himself. And this was someone he shouldn't want, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. She made him feel a bit reckless, alive in a way he hadn't been in years.

Dressed in a pair of jeans, blue t-shirt and a black vest, he hopped in his Jeep and drove over to the resort. The route familiar, he winced at the mistake he almost made when he offered to pick her up. She didn't know him as the bellman who drove her to her bungalow and dropped off her bags. He doubted she'd give him the time of day if she did.

He pulled up in front of her bungalow and put the Jeep in park. He climbed out and marched up to her door, checking his phone. Two minutes to nine; he was early, good. Killian knocked smartly and waited.

It didn't take long. The door swung open and Killian put on his most charming smile. It melted into a look of awe when he saw her. Emma appeared equally stunned, her foot bobbing as she hung onto the door.

"Hi."

Killian sucked in a shallow breath. "Evening, love."

"You're on time."

He grinned. "Aye. You look beautiful, Emma." She was in a pale pink sundress, with thin straps and a skirt that hung to mid thigh, exposing her long legs. Her golden tresses tumbled around her shoulders in wavy curls; she was breathtaking.

"Thanks. You look nice too."

"And this isn't even my best effort."

"Maybe you'll get another chance."

"Oh, I know I will."

Emma gave him a little huff and a smirk. "You always this cocky?"

He winked at her. "In more ways than one, love."

Emma rolled her eyes, but Killian saw her smile. He offered her his arm. "Shall we then?"

She snatched her tiny bag off the nearby table and took his arm. "Show me what you got."

He took her to a little hole in the wall bar he knew, surreptitiously checking that Will's car wasn't in the parking lot. Coast clear, he helped Emma down from his Jeep, letting his hands linger just a little too long. He couldn't help it; she was warm and soft and seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. His hand fell to the small of her back as he led her inside.

"This is a nice place," Emma observed, her tone neutral. Yes, he imagined there were far fancier places in New York, but this was his favorite bar in town. It was dimly lit except where the dart board and pool tables were; there were no TVs or any other distractions. Just an old wooden bar, some equally old wooden tables and good drinks.

"The drinks are reasonable and I play a fair game of darts," he said casually.

"Come here a lot?"

Killian shrugged. "Here more than others, I suppose. I'm rather fond of it and Granny treats everyone well."

"Granny?"

Killian nodded toward the bar. "The Widow Lucas and her granddaughter run it. Been here longer than I have." Emma seemed to accept that, still looking around the place. "What would you like to drink, love?"

"At the risk of sounding like someone in a bad 80s movie...could I get one of those fruity umbrella drinks? I haven't had one since I got here."

Killian grinned; she was adorable. "An absolute travesty that we shall remedy immediately." He motioned to Ruby, Granny's granddaughter. The brunette—dressed in a crop top and a grass skirt, in case some random tourist should happen by no doubt—took their drink orders, smiling at Killian appreciatively.

"She's pretty."

"Is she?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You don't have to play dumb, Killian. Even I can tell she's a knockout."

"Perhaps I just have a thing for blondes."

Emma laughed. "God, that was so sad."

Killian rested his hand on her bare knee. "And yet, at the moment, entirely true." He hadn't even thought about anyone else since that day in Starbucks. Technically, Emma was right. Ruby was very attractive. But he'd never been attracted to her, despite her flirting.

Emma flushed prettily in the low light, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Is this weird?" she asked suddenly. "I mean, we've...you know...aren't we doing this backwards?"

"You mean, should the drink come before grinding in my lap?" he said, leaning in close so no one could hear. "I rather like the way we did it, love."

"God, I'm so bad at this."

"You're really not." He touched his hand to hers. "Let's just enjoy our drink and see where the evening takes us, yeah?"

She smiled. "Okay."

As if on cue, their drinks arrived, something fruity with an umbrella for Emma and beer for Killian. He would be driving later so he didn't want to overdo it.

"Hmm, that's really good," Emma said, lips smacking. "Like really good."

"Crossed off your bucket list, love?"

"I think I'm too young for a bucket list, but yeah. It's Hawaii, so I figure, why not?"

"Excellent philosophy. Although living here as long as I have, I must say the allure has worn off."

Emma cocked her head, sipping on her drink. "What's up with that anyway? How does an Englishman wind up here of all places?"

"It's rather a long...and not very happy, story. Suffice it to say that I had no reason to remain there."

"Did you run away?" Emma covered her mouth in horror. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry. I'm literally the last person who should be grilling anyone about why they left home."

Killian took a pull on his beer. "Is that what you did? Run all the way to Hawaii?"

"No," she said quickly. Then she deflated. "Okay, maybe a little. The poor little rich girl couldn't handle her super privileged life and ran away to paradise. How sad is that?"

"I guess it depends on the girl. I have a hard time believing you didn't have a reason."

"You barely know me."

"On the contrary, love, I feel like I know you quite well." He laced his words with a hint of innuendo to lighten the mood, not expecting things to get this heavy, this fast.

Emma put her empty glass down. "If you know me so well, tell me what I want right now."

Killian considered her. "First, another drink. Then..." He looked around. "How about a round of darts? You enjoy games as I recall."

Emma's eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was something he wanted to see as often as possible. "Wow, two for two. I'm impressed." Killian got her another drink, then guided her over to the empty dart board.

"Ever play darts in that...what did you call it? Your super privileged life?"

"Believe it or not, there are are dart boards in New York."

"Well then princess, show me." Emma raised her brows credulously at his little nickname for her, but it suited her. A princess on an adventure.

She took another sip of her drink and accepted the darts. Standing behind the line, she took aim while Killian watched. The first shot went wide; Killian had to suppress a smile. Emma glared daggers at him, but returned to the game. The next couple were better—she hit the board instead of the wall—but nowhere near the bullseye.

"My turn," he said softly, sitting down his beer and grabbing the darts. Emma downed the rest of her drink as she watched him; he could feel her giving him a once over. He decided to make a bit of a show of it, taking his time, letting her look her fill. His first shot hit the bullseye, and the next two were close, just outside.

"How did you do that?" Emma asked, pouting adorably.

"It's all in the wrist, love. Care for a demonstration?"

"Sure." They each took a sip from their drinks—Emma's third since arriving—and Killian pulled her in front of him at the starting line. He pressed the darts into her hand, standing close behind her.

"Now, you're right handed, so you want to take a small step back," he said softly, his breath hot on her ear. Emma followed his instructions, swallowing audibly. "There's a good girl. Now give me your hand." Emma held up her right hand, a lone dart squeezed between her fingers. "Loosen your grip, there's no need to kill it." The white disappeared from her fingers. Killian smiled. "Now watch." He curled his hand around hers, showing her the motion. "Feel that? The gentle curve through the air? When you get to it's highest point let go and follow through." Unable to resist any longer, he brushed his lips lightly over her neck. She shivered. "Shall we do it together?"

"Okay." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. If he'd been further away he'd have missed it.

"On the count of three." He pulled her arm back slowly, counting. On three she let go, Killian guiding her hand.

"We did it!" she cried happily, seeing where the dart landed. It wasn't a bullseye, but it was close. Much better than her previous effort. Killian grunted in surprised when she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. He held her close, inhaling her sweet spicy scent, enjoying the way she felt pressed up against him.

"So you did, lass," he said with a grin, tugging lightly on the ends of her hair. "Would you like to try it by yourself?"

"Stand back and let me work," she declared confidently. Emma flashed him a gorgeous smile and Killian felt that pull again, the desire to simply be around her. She lit up the whole room.

They got into a tournament of sorts with another couple, people Killian had never met before, Philip and Aurora. It seemed to take the edge off talking about themselves; they could just get caught up in the game, share a drink. Emma switched to rum and coke; Killian got another beer. They were up 3 rounds to 2, when Emma excused herself to the bathroom. She came back a little wobbly, wiping at her mouth.

"Everything alright, love?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah. I just had to pee." He wasn't sure if the flush that crossed her cheeks was due to the alcohol she'd consumed or her crude language. She took a pull on his beer. "You have no idea how good it feels to just say that I have to pee. My mother would be shocked."

"A bit prim and proper is she?"

"It's always designer this and designer that and charity dinners and gossip. It's so fucking boring."

"And what would the princess rather be doing?"

Emma scowled at him. "The princess would rather be at work. Actually being useful." Her face softened. "I just want something I do to matter, to change things. Is that dumb?"

Killian cradled her cheek. "No, lass. It's not dumb at all. In fact, I think it's rather admirable." Philip held out the darts for him. "Hold that thought, love. Be right back." He took his turn, firing off two bullseyes in quick succession, winning the game and the impromptu tournament. They said good night to their fellow drinkers and moved to a table in the corner. "You were saying?"

Emma shook her head, downing the rest of her rum and coke, waving for another. "Nevermind."

It was Killian's turn to frown. "I'd love to hear more about you, Emma."

"You sound like my friend Elsa." Her words were getting slurred; he was going to cut her off after he next drink.

"Does she know you're here?"

"With you?" Killian nodded. "She was the one who pushed me to finally call you."

"I'll have to thank her."

"For what?"

"For giving me a chance to spend time with you."

"I'm really not that interesting."

"Now I know that's not true. I happen to find you quite interesting."

"Are you sure that engine block didn't fall on your head?"

"Quite certain. Unless you'd like to check." He bent his head toward her, waiting expectantly. Emma hesitated for only a moment, then brought her fingers up to comb through his hair. She lightly massaged his scalp; Killian growled low in his throat. Even that relatively innocent touch sent electricity through his veins. He also got a good look at her legs, pale and long under the table, making him want to run his hands over them. Emma scooted closer, her fingers teasing his neck down into his collar. "Emma..."

"Yeah?"

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to drag you outside and kiss you senseless."

"Promise?"

"Minx." He raised his head, pure mischief in her green eyes. He threw some cash onto the table for their drinks and grabbed her hand. Emma giggled as they left, Killian guiding them around the corner of the building. Emma pounced on him as soon as they were alone, pressing him against the wall, kissing him before he could protest. Not that he would. He didn't mind her being aggressive. At all.

Emma rubbed herself against him, her hands everywhere. She nipped at his pulse, soothing it with her tongue as her delicate hand palmed his cock. Killian moaned, head falling back against the brick. It felt so good he almost missed her yanking on his belt, trying to get into his pants. Her kisses were sloppy and rough, leaving a mark on his neck.

"Love...Emma, slow down," he chided gently, trying to still her hands.

"Why?" But even in the low light Killian could see her eyes were glassy and not only from desire. Kissing her while drunk was one thing, but she was unsteady and too far gone for more.

"Emma...fuck," he cursed, as she wrenched her hand away and squeezed his aching cock.

"See? You want me."

"Not...shit, not like this."

She pulled back, a frown marring her gorgeous features. It killed him to push her away, but he didn't want to be something she regretted. He wouldn't take advantage of her inebriated state. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"No, no. But Emma, you're drunk."

"So?"

Tentatively, he reached out and cupped her face. "When we do this, I want you to remember it."

She bit her lip. "You do?"

He wondered where on earth she'd get such a strange notion from. "Aye. You're not just some girl to me, love."

"Oh." She swayed on her feet, the effects of the alcohol she had consumed. Killian caught her, wrapping his arm around her.

"Come on, let's take you home." She tried to shrink away from him, clearly embarrassed, but he just held her tighter. He didn't want her to be self conscious with him; she clearly had trouble trusting people. She spoke of her friend, Elsa; was there anyone else she trusted? To not judge her? To be herself around? Probably not.

Killian helped her into the Jeep; Emma swayed again and it just reinforced his conviction that she was in no state to be sleeping with him. He'd had sex in various states of intoxication before, but never to this point. It was likely she wouldn't remember much of this and that was a line he refused to cross.

Killian pulled out into traffic, glancing at Emma. She wasn't looking at him, but he couldn't decide if that was because she was still embarrassed or if she was dozing. He tried to be careful, to not jostle them too much, but the road was rough, filled with potholes. Emma groaned, her head falling back against the headrest.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"Oh god, can you pull over?"

He didn't even answer, pulling onto the shoulder immediately. Emma wrenched open the door and leaned over, retching. Killian cursed; he had to wait for the traffic to clear enough for him to open his own door, hopping down and hurrying to her side. Ignoring the smell, he lifted her out of the Jeep and set her down. Emma crouched in the short grass, still gagging and Killian pulled her hair back for her.

They stayed like for some minutes, as Emma emptied the contents of her stomach. "Ugh," she muttered, shivering.

"Feeling better?" Killian asked gently.

She nodded, staggering to her feet. Her heel got caught in a clump of grass and she lost her balance, arms flailing. Killian caught her again, pulling her into his chest. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, lass." Once he was sure she was really okay, he lifted her back into the Jeep, ignoring her feeble protests. "I've got you, Emma."

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes. Killian skimmed her cheek with his thumb tenderly, hit hard by a desire to look after her. He couldn't just leave her alone. So he got back into his Jeep and headed for his place. It was closer than hers, and he wouldn't feel like he was prying into her things. By the time they arrived, Emma was out cold, sleeping off the lingering effects of their evening.

He had to carry her up the stairs to his apartment; it took some contortions, but he managed to unlock the door and get her inside. He took her to his bed, laying her down as gently as he could. There was a small stain on her dress that he hadn't noticed when they were at the bar. He'd have to change her. Running his fingers through his hair, he headed for his beat up dresser and pulled out an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with anchors on them.

Returning to her, he paused, considering how best to do this. This was not how he'd imagined having her in his bed for the first time. Stop stalling, Jones. Carefully, he lifted the sundress over her head, gulping when he saw what she was wearing underneath. God, she was even more stunning then he'd imagined.

"One day soon, lass," he said softly. "I promise." He kissed the back of her hand, then went about putting his clothes on her. They looked much better on her. He spread the lightest blanket he had over her, tucking her in. "Sleep well, Emma."

Satisfied she was taken care of, Killian headed to the bathroom himself. He stripped off his dirty clothes and showered,washing away the stench of stale beer and sick. He put on another set of boxers and shirt, grabbing another blanket for the couch. He didn't want her to freak out when she woke up, at least not more.

He just hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him in the morning.

Emma woke up to a pounding head and a familiar scent. She groaned, the light filtering through her closed eyelids. She rolled over, deeper into the pillow, hoping to fall asleep and get a respite from the ache in her head. But as she inhaled the musky salty scent, she realized with a start that she wasn't in her own bed.

What the hell?

She sat up—too fast—head swimming. It took a few deep breaths before she could open her eyes. When she did, Emma saw an unfamiliar room, a couch at the far end. Where was she? And what had happened last night? She remembered Killian picking her up, the way her mouth had watered when she saw him. She remembered the bar, the darts. After that things got hazy. It had been a nice date until then.

Emma looked down at herself; she was wearing an oversized faded cotton t-shirt and some boxers. Definitely not hers. Killian's? She hoped so or she was very screwed. He wouldn't leave her alone, right? Granted, she didn't know him very well, but her gut told her that he was a decent guy. It was why she'd finally heeded Elsa's advice in the first place.

"Okay, Emma," she said to herself, wincing at the sound of her own voice. She needed some aspirin, stat. "Time to go find out what happened."

She wobbled a bit when she stood, more the effects of the hangover than anything else. The smell of bacon and coffee wafted back to her and her stomach lurched. A few more deep breaths and she was fine again, taking a tentative step toward the smell.

"Killian?" she called, hoping she was right.

He came out from around the corner. "There you are, love. I was beginning to think you'd sleep the day away."

She let out a sigh of relief. Then groaned. "Ow."

He was at her side in an instant. "Aye, you've likely got a wicked hangover, lass. Here, let me." He allowed her to lean on him as he guided her to what appeared to be his kitchen. It was tiny compared to the one in her bungalow, but seemed serviceable enough. "Sit, I've got something that help with that."

Emma sat on the stool and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. She hadn't felt like this in a while. College, maybe? She'd had enough hangovers during that time to last her a lifetime. Perhaps she'd been more nervous on their date than she thought.

Killian tapped her on the wrist and she looked up. He had a glass of...something in his hand. It was thick and green and looked disgusting. "Don't think about it, just drink it," he advised. "You'll feel better, I swear."

"What is it?"

"My own concoction for hangovers. It works. Best pinch your nose though. Smells bloody awful, tastes worse."

"Do I even want to know what's in it?"

"Probably not. Now drink up."

She looked at him skeptically, but accepted the glass. She nearly gagged on the smell alone. And he expected her to drink it? Ew. But her head throbbed again and she decided to bite the bullet and just do it. Emma pinched her nose with one hand, then lifted the glass to her lips. Killian was right; it tasted terrible, thick and gloppy, but she downed all of it.

Killian handed her a glass of water to wash it down, taking the used one. "Just give it a few minutes and you'll be good as new."

"Thanks."

"It's no trouble, love. Make this stuff for Will all the bloody time."

"Likes to drink, does he?"

"You've no idea."

Emma buried her face in her arms, waiting for Killian's cure to take affect. She heard him bustling in his small kitchen, careful to keep the sounds to a minimum. Out of consideration for her? So he was hot and sweet too? Where the hell did she find him? Guys like him didn't exist in her world.

She remembered the last time she'd woken up in a strange bed with no memory of how she'd gotten there. Only that time she'd been naked. She'd been out with Neal the night before; they were at a party. She didn't remember much past that, but she must have agreed to sleep with him. It had been their first time she didn't even remember it. He'd treated her to breakfast in bed, and she didn't think anything of it. It wasn't like she hadn't had sex after a few drinks before that.

It wasn't until much later that she recognized Neal's behavior for what it was.

Her head starting to clear, she looked at Killian. "Did anything happen after we played darts?" she asked.

He put down his coffee mug. "We talked for a bit, which led to you trying to maul me in an alley." When Emma gasped, he took her hand. "I swear, nothing happened, even though you wanted to. I would never take advantage of you like that, lass. I started to take you home, but you threw up on the side of the road. After that, I brought you here. I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes flickered to the hickey on his neck. "I did that?"

He smiled. "Aye, you were quite...aggressive, love. Which I am all for, when everyone has their wits about them. For future reference."

Emma blushed. She believed him; there was too much sincerity in his voice. "Thanks for taking care of me. Sorry I was such a mess, I'm usually not."

"As I said last night, you've got nothing to be sorry for. I had a good time."

"Even with the drunkenness and throwing up?"

"We've all been there at some point or other, Emma."

"Yeah." She let go of him reluctantly and stretched her arms over her head. "That disgusting stuff actually seems to be working. I feel better."

"Think you can eat something? I made bacon and toast, but I have cereal if you'd rather have that. Not exactly four star cuisine though."

"Maybe some toast? That bacon smells great."

"Coming right up," he replied, flashing her a grin.

So he didn't seem to think less of her for her display the night before. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't been drunk. Would they have had sex? Probably. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see they were very attracted to each other. And up until her inebriation had gotten the better of her, she'd had a really great time. Killian was funny. And smart. And really crazy hot.

"Do you think we could go out again?" she blurted.

Killian sat a plate of buttered toast and bacon in front of her. "I'd like that, Emma."

"Really?"

"I told you; I had a great time last night. Having you in my bed? Well, let's just say that is something that definitely need to be repeated." He winked at her.

She took his teasing in stride, munching on some toast. Her stomach was settling down and her head didn't hurt at all now. He got her a glass of grapefruit juice and they ate in companionable silence. She took the time to glance around his place, get to know him a bit without putting her foot in her mouth.

It wasn't big, just a studio. The bedroom was in the back with a small bathroom off to the right. The part closest to them had the couch she'd noticed earlier and flat screen TV with a blu ray player. There was a stack of blu rays and DVDs, but she was too far away to read the titles. Over in the corner sat what appeared to be a desk; it was little more than an old door and some saw horses. His laptop sat on top, open but not on. There were papers and books scattered everywhere, no organization that she could see.

"What are you working on?" she asked, sipping on her juice.

Killian followed her eyes. "My master's thesis. Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess."

"What's it about? You said you were studying marine biology."

"I'm studying the effects of the surfing competitions on the marine life of the North Shore. There are a lot of endangered species around here."

"I didn't know that."

"Most people don't. They just see the beaches and whatnot."

She wanted to ask how he got into marine biology, but that would lead to personal questions about how he got here. She did remember that he wasn't crazy about personal questions, which she understood. "Maybe you could show me sometime."

His face lit up and she knew she'd said the right thing. "I think that could be arranged, lass."

"But maybe we could keep our next date...um, low impact? Since I seem to keep ruining your stuff."

Killian laughed. "Low impact, got it." He took her plate "And I find your clumsiness to be endearing, love."

"You're weird."

"I think I'm rather charming, thank you very much."

Emma didn't reply, anything she said would just feed his ego. Besides, he was right; he was charming. She really liked him. Holy lord, she really did like him.

"I think I should probably get home soon. And you need your clothes back."

"Let me get this cleaned up and I'll drive you."

"You don't have to..."

"Emma please. Let me do the gentlemanly thing and drive you home. It's actually on my way."

"Okay."

His clothes were big enough on her that she didn't look like a hobo as she climbed into his Jeep. She had a plastic sack that had her soiled dress and small purse in her lap. It only took them fifteen minutes to drive to her bungalow; traffic was light for a Thursday morning. She was getting used to the Jeep because she managed to get down with no trouble. Killian walked with her to the door, scratching behind his ear.

"I had a good time, Emma, truly."

"So did I." She gave him a tentative smile, unsure of what else to say.

"This may sound daft, but may I kiss you good night?"

"You know it's morning, right?" she teased. She leaned in before he could reply, pressing her lips gently to his. She only pulled back a fraction before she was in his arms, mouths fused together. There didn't seem to be any other speed for them; every time their lips touched it felt like fire. She'd never known kisses like his. It took a while for them to pull back, still breathing each other's air.

"We'll have that second date soon, lass," he promised.

"Third," she corrected.

Killian smiled that gorgeous dimpled smile. "Aye, third." One final brief kiss and he let her go, walking briskly to his Jeep. Emma waved goodbye and headed into her bungalow. She pressed her back against the door and exhaled heavily.

Just what had she gotten herself into?