Chapter 25
Jay had never been the type to count down the hours, but today was different. Every second that passed felt like it stretched longer than it should, like the entire city was conspiring to slow him down. But finally—finally—his car was pulling up in front of Erin's house, and he didn't even hesitate before stepping out.
It was still cold out, the late morning air crisp against his skin, but Jay barely felt it. His heartbeat was steady but fast, anticipation thrumming in his veins as he climbed the steps.
He didn't even have to knock. The door swung open before he could raise his fist, and there she was.
Erin.
She was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a soft his hoodie that looked a little too big on her, her hair still slightly damp from a shower. No makeup, no carefully planned outfit—just her, comfortable, warm, real.
For a second, neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other, the air thick with something unspoken but unmistakably there. Jay took a step forward, and Erin barely had time to react before he was pulling her in, arms wrapping around her waist, holding her as close as he could.
She melted into him, her own arms winding around his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like she needed to hold onto something solid.
"Hey," she murmured against his shoulder.
Jay exhaled, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. "Hey."
He didn't let go right away, didn't care how long they stood there in the doorway. He just needed to feel her, to be sure this was real.
Erin was the one who pulled back first, just enough to look up at him. "You really couldn't wait, huh?" she teased, but her voice was softer than usual, the usual sharp edges of her sarcasm dulled by something warmer.
Jay huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Not even a little." His hands slid down to her waist, thumbs rubbing absently over her hips. "You gonna let me in, or are we just gonna stand here and let your neighbors judge us?"
Erin rolled her eyes but tugged him inside, shutting the door behind them. "You act like you'd be embarrassed," she said, leading him toward the couch. "I think they already assume I've got questionable taste in men."
Jay smirked. "Questionable? Babe, I'm a catch."
"Uh-huh," she deadpanned, but the way her fingers were still gripping his shirt told him all he needed to know.
He didn't waste any more time. The second they sat down, Jay tugged her closer again, this time pressing a kiss to her lips—soft but lingering, slow but full of everything he hadn't been able to say through a phone. Erin sighed against him, fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss just slightly, just enough to make his pulse spike.
When they pulled apart, Erin stayed close, her forehead resting lightly against his. "I missed you," she admitted, barely above a whisper.
Jay let his eyes close for a second, his grip tightening on her waist. "I missed you too."
And God, how he meant it.
Jay sighed, sinking deeper into the couch as Erin curled up beside him, her legs tucked beneath her. It felt so damn good to be here, to have her close, to not be separated by phone calls and late-night conversations filled with hesitation and unsaid things.
She leaned into his side, her fingers playing idly with the fabric of his hoodie. "So," she started, tilting her head to look at him. "Besides Adam and Wendy blowing up, did I miss anything else?"
Jay huffed a small laugh. "Not really. Same old, same old. Practice, team meetings, trying to avoid reporters,asking me about you."
Erin snorted. "Me,uh?"
"Yeah." He glanced at her, smirking. "Should I tell them you're a stubborn, ridiculously talented writer who borrows my hoodies?"
Erin smirked back. "Borrow implies you're getting them back."
Jay groaned, shaking his head. "That's just cruel."
She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"What about you?" he asked, his fingers tracing slow circles on her knee. "Anything I missed?"
Erin was quiet for a second, and Jay felt her take a deep breath before she spoke. "My mom left town."
Jay stiffened, his entire body going still. "What?"
"She's gone," Erin clarified, her voice measured, but he didn't miss the way her fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie. "Packed up and left a few days ago. No warning, no explanation."
Jay shifted, angling himself to look at her fully. "Are you okay?"
She let out a breath, her gaze dropping to where her fingers were toying with a loose thread on his sleeve. "I don't know," she admitted. "I should be relieved, right? No more unexpected visits, no more damage control. But… it's just weird. She always leaves, but she always comes back."
Jay's heart clenched at the quiet vulnerability in her voice. He reached up, gently cupping her cheek, guiding her gaze back to him. "You don't have to have the right reaction, Erin. It's okay if it feels weird. It's okay if you don't know how to feel."
Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but instead, she just nodded. Jay brushed his thumb over her cheek, his touch light but steady.
"I don't care where she is," he added after a moment. "I care about you. About how you're feeling."
Erin exhaled, her shoulders losing some of their tension. "I'm glad you're here," she murmured.
Jay smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Me too."
For a moment, they just sat there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet understanding that didn't need words.
Whatever came next, they'd figure it out. Together.
Jay felt Erin relax against him, but there was still something lingering in the air—something she hadn't said yet. He knew her well enough to recognize it, the way her fingers tapped idly against his thigh, her hesitation like a weight between them.
"There's something else," he murmured, brushing his hand over her knee. "What is it?"
Erin let out a slow breath, tilting her head slightly but not looking at him. "The, uh… the director. For the adaptation."
Jay frowned. "The movie?"
"Yeah." She finally glanced up at him, her expression somewhere between exasperated and irritated. "Apparently, Trudy got a meeting with the director who's interested in working on The Light Within. But, uh… he's kind of a complete jackass."
Jay arched a brow. "What'd he do?"
Erin sighed. "Besides acting like he's God's gift to cinema? He barely even looked at me when we met. Just talked to Trudy like I wasn't even there. And then when I did get a word in, he basically implied that my story was cute but needed more… what did he say? Oh, right—'more sex, more controversy, something actually interesting.'"
Jay sat up straighter, his jaw tightening. "Are you kidding me?"
"Nope." Erin popped the "p" bitterly. "He actually said, and I quote, 'People don't care about emotional depth, they want scandal. Drama. Something that sells.'"
Jay ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."
"Oh, it gets better," Erin continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "He suggested that if I wanted my book to be 'elevated' into something more cinematic, I should consider letting someone else do the rewrites. You know, someone with 'experience' in making things more appealing to an audience."
Jay turned fully toward her now, his expression sharp with barely contained frustration. "You're telling me this guy sat there and told you—one of the best-selling authors out there—that your story wasn't 'interesting' enough?"
Erin shrugged, but Jay could see the way it still bothered her, the way her jaw tightened just slightly. "Pretty much."
Jay shook his head. "I swear to God, I will track this guy down and—"
Erin laughed, pressing a hand to his chest. "Easy, QB."
Jay exhaled heavily, his free hand still clenched into a fist against his thigh. "I just—are you serious? Your book is incredible, Erin. It's real. It's yours. And some self-important asshole thinks he can tell you how to make it 'better'? That's bullshit."
"I know." Erin sighed, her fingers grazing his hoodie again. "Trudy basically told him to go to hell in the most professional way possible, so I doubt we'll be working with him. But still… it sucked."
Jay watched her carefully, seeing the way she was trying to brush it off, like it didn't matter as much as it did. He hated that.
"You know your book doesn't need fixing, right?" he said softly. "And if you do decide to make changes, it should be you doing it. Not some guy who thinks 'depth' is a bad thing."
Erin gave him a small smile. "I know."
Jay reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Good. Because if I hear you doubting yourself for even a second because of that guy, I'll—"
"Track him down?"
Jay smirked. "At the very least."
Erin shook her head, laughing quietly as she leaned into him again. "Thanks, babe."
"For what?"
"For always having my back."
Jay kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her. "Always."
Erin leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Jay dropped his duffel bag near the door. His hair was slightly tousled, his jacket still unzipped like he hadn't even taken a second to breathe since landing. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"So," she started, crossing her arms, "tell me about the game. You guys won, right?"
Jay grinned, the exhaustion in his eyes momentarily replaced by excitement. "Yeah, we did. It wasn't easy, though. We weren't even at home, so the energy was different, but we pulled through." He ran a hand through his hair. "The first half was rough. Defense was all over me, and I barely had time to throw, but we adjusted. Second half? Different story. I got in the zone, found my guys in the right spots, and we closed it out. Felt damn good."
Erin watched the way his whole face lit up as he talked about it, his love for the game so obvious. It made her chest warm. "Sounds like you carried the team," she teased.
Jay scoffed, shaking his head. "Nah, it was a team effort. But, I mean… I won't lie, my passes were pretty damn good."
She laughed softly, then glanced at the time. "Alright, victory boy, you need to eat. You came straight here, didn't you?"
Jay blinked, like he was just realizing it himself. "Uh…" He glanced at the suitcase sitting by the door and winced. "Yeah. I guess I did."
Erin gave him a knowing look, arching an eyebrow. "So you didn't even go home first? You're literally fresh off the plane?"
Jay rubbed the back of his neck. "What can I say? Had my priorities straight." His eyes softened as he looked at her.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the way her heart flipped. "Well, good thing I stopped to get groceries. Figured you'd want something good for lunch after two days of hotel food."
Jay's lips quirked up in amusement. "Wait, you bought groceries? So what, we're having pre-packaged salads and frozen pizza?"
Erin shot him a glare. "I was actually planning on making pasta, smartass."
Jay chuckled, stepping closer. "Oh yeah? You are gonna cook?"
"Don't sound so shocked," she huffed, but even she couldn't deny that cooking wasn't exactly her thing. "I just thought—"
Jay cut her off with a smirk. "You thought you'd buy the ingredients, and then I'd do the actual cooking."
Erin narrowed her eyes. "That's not—"
Jay lifted an eyebrow, waiting.
"…Okay, maybe that was the plan," she admitted, crossing her arms. "But I was still going to help."
Jay grinned, stepping around her and heading toward the kitchen. "Uh-huh. Sure you were."
She swatted his arm as he passed, but he just chuckled, already reaching for the pasta. "Come on, babe, you can do the important job—pour the wine."
Erin sighed dramatically but grabbed the bottle, unable to stop the smile tugging at her lips.
Erin handed Jay a glass of wine, leaning against the counter with an amused glint in her eyes as she watched him take a slow sip. He looked a little too good standing there—rumpled from travel, his duffel bag still near the door, his shirt slightly untucked like he hadn't even stopped at home before coming straight to her.
She liked that. Maybe a little too much.
"So, Halstead," she teased, tilting her head, "what's the secret to your so-called legendary pasta?"
Jay raised an eyebrow, setting his glass down. "Legendary?"
She shrugged, taking a sip of her own. "I've heard things."
"Yeah?" He smirked, turning toward the stove. "Who told you? Ruzek? That guy thinks anything I make is five stars if he's drunk enough."
She laughed. "Could be, but you did win me over when you cooked that risotto that one time."
Jay shot her a look over his shoulder. "So that's why you keep me around? For my cooking?"
Erin tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think. "That… and maybe a couple of other reasons."
Jay was still grinning as he reached for the black pepper, but at the last second, he flicked a small handful of flour at her, dusting the sleeve of her shirt.
She gasped, looking down at herself, then back at him with narrowed eyes. "You did not just do that."
Jay shrugged, completely unapologetic. "Guess my aim's better than yours."
"Oh, you're so dead."
Before he could react, she grabbed the nearest weapon—a handful of flour—and launched it at him.
A few landed in his hair, the rest sticking to his shirt.
Jay stared down at himself, then back up at her, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh. "You just made a huge mistake."
Erin barely had time to react before he was on her, backing her against the counter, his hands bracing on either side of her.
"You think you can just throw flour at me and get away with it?" he murmured, voice low, teasing, his breath warm against her cheek.
Her heart was pounding, but she refused to back down. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."
Jay's smirk deepened, and before she could say anything else, his fingers found her waist, squeezing just enough to make her squirm. "How about now?"
She let out a breathless laugh, twisting to get away, but he tightened his hold, keeping her locked in place. "Jay," she half-laughed, half-protested.
"Say you surrender." His voice was all gravel, his lips inches from hers.
"Never."
His hands slid lower, gripping her hips in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."
And then he kissed her.
It was hot, desperate, like he had been thinking about this for days—hell, maybe even weeks. Erin immediately melted into him, fingers fisting in his shirt, tugging him closer like she couldn't get enough. Jay kissed her like he was starving, like she was the only thing that existed, his hands mapping out her body like he was memorizing every inch.
By the time he pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his forehead pressing against hers.
"You drive me insane," he muttered, his voice rough, wrecked. "You don't even try, and I can't get you out of my head."
Erin's pulse was still hammering, but she managed a smirk. "Good."
Jay let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing lazy circles at her waist. "You like torturing me, don't you?"
She hummed, tilting her head like she was considering it. "A little."
Jay groaned, dipping his head to nip at her jaw. "You're lucky I still have to feed you, or I'd be showing you exactly how crazy you make me."
Her stomach flipped, but she somehow managed to play it cool, stepping back with a smug little smile. "Better get back to cooking then, chef."
Jay shook his head, watching her with dark eyes as she turned back to her wine, pretending like she wasn't still burning from his touch.
Yeah, dinner was definitely going to take longer than expected.
Jay exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to focus on literally anything other than the way Erin was looking at him—smug, teasing, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
"Alright, alright," he muttered, turning back to the stove. "Pasta first. Then I deal with you."
Erin smirked. "Deal with me?"
Jay shot her a look over his shoulder. "You know exactly what I mean, girlfriend."
The way he said it—low, full of promise—sent a shiver down her spine. But she wasn't going to let him win that easily. Instead, she took another sip of wine, watching as he stirred the sauce, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly.
"Need help?" she asked, though they both knew she wasn't much help in the kitchen.
Jay huffed a laugh. "Not unless you want this to end in flames."
"Hey," she protested, setting her glass down. "I'm not that bad."
He turned, giving her a look.
"Okay, maybe I'm not great, but I can stir things." She grabbed a spoon and reached for the sauce, only for Jay to catch her wrist, spinning her around until her back was against his chest.
"Yeah?" His breath was warm against her neck. "Then stir."
Erin's grip on the spoon faltered for a second, her pulse spiking as he pressed a little closer, his hands still wrapped around hers.
"Jay," she warned, her voice coming out softer than she intended.
"What?" he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I'm just helping."
She swallowed hard, but she wasn't about to let him win. With a slow, deliberate motion, she dipped the spoon into the sauce, stirring like nothing was happening.
"See?" she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Perfectly capable."
Jay's lips curved into a slow smirk. "Sure. But I think you missed a spot."
Before she could question him, he reached around her, his fingers grazing over hers, stirring the sauce again—except his movements were a little too slow, too controlled, his body still pressing against hers in a way that was definitely not about cooking.
Erin sucked in a breath, tilting her head slightly, her nose brushing his jaw. "Are we actually making dinner, or is this just an excuse?"
Jay let out a low chuckle, his fingers tightening around hers. "Can't it be both?"
She laughed softly, turning just enough so they were face to face, only a breath apart.
"Tell you what," she murmured. "If you finish cooking without trying to seduce me, I'll do the dishes."
Jay arched an eyebrow. "Without trying? Babe, you kissed me first."
"That's debatable."
"Absolutely not."
Erin smirked, giving his chest a little push. "Then you better finish cooking, quarterback."
Jay groaned, stepping back reluctantly, rubbing a hand over his face. "You are evil."
Erin just grinned, hopping up onto the counter as she watched him begrudgingly focus on the food again.
He shook his head, stirring the pasta with a little more force than necessary. "Just so you know," he muttered, "I'm definitely getting my revenge after we eat."
Erin bit her lip, watching him with bright, knowing eyes.
Yeah. She was counting on it.
Jay set the plate down and turned to her, his voice quieter now. "Hey, you really meant what you said on the phone? About… being scared you're not enough for me?"
Erin froze for a second, the dish she was washing pausing in mid-air. She glanced up at him, a little hesitant, as if she hadn't expected the question to come up again.
Jay took a step closer, his expression softer, but there was a sense of urgency in his voice. "I can't fathom the idea that you think you're not enough. You think you're—what, not as… sexy? Not as—what's the word?—sensual, as the other women I've been with?"
Erin sighed, setting the plate down gently before meeting his gaze. She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want him to feel like she was questioning their relationship, but the truth was, the insecurity had been gnawing at her for a while. "I'm not saying I'm not enough for you," she began slowly, looking down at her hands before she met his eyes again, "I'm just… worried that I'm too boring. You know, like… I'm not the kind of girl who's always… perfect or put together. I'm not the model type or some super sensual, flawless girl you might expect."
Jay's heart clenched, the words hitting him harder than he'd expected. His brows furrowed as he took a step closer, reaching for her hand. "Babe, listen to me," he said softly, his voice full of conviction. "You're not boring. Far from it. You're everything I've ever wanted—and more."
Erin shook her head, trying to explain. "It's not about looks, Jay. It's about—" she paused, looking for the right words, "I don't know, I just get scared that I'm not the kind of woman who can turn heads in a room the way some other people can. That I'm too… regular."
Jay's grip on her hand tightened, and he gently pulled her toward him. His chest felt tight, like this was a misunderstanding that he had to fix, to make her see things the way he saw them.
"You're not 'regular,' Erin," he said, his voice low and sincere. "You're everything but regular. And if you think for one second that you're not enough for me, then I need to make sure you hear this: You drive me crazy. I'm absolutely insane about you. You make me feel things I didn't know I could feel."
He took a step back, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "You're telling me you're not as sexy or sensual as anyone else I've been with? Erin, none of those other girls—" He cut himself off, frustration rising in his chest. "Those were flings, nothing more. I've never felt anything like this before. And I don't know what the hell I was doing back then, but none of them come close to what you are to me."
Erin stood there, her heart pounding in her chest. The way he was looking at her—like she was everything he'd ever wanted—made her stomach flip. She could see the truth in his eyes. She could hear it in the rawness of his voice.
"I've never been with someone like you, Erin," he continued, his voice softer now, almost like a confession. "I'm not scared of you being 'boring.' Hell, I think you're more than I could've ever hoped for. But I am terrified of losing this. Losing you."
Erin's breath hitched in her throat, and she felt her own insecurities start to fade, slowly replaced by something else. It wasn't perfect—she wasn't perfect—but maybe, just maybe, they didn't need to be. Maybe they could be just right together.
"Jay…" She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "You really feel that way?"
He nodded, his thumb gently brushing the back of her hand. "Every damn day. You don't have to be anyone else but yourself. You're everything I want, Erin. Don't ever doubt that."
She felt her chest tighten with emotion, the weight of her worries lifting just a little as she stared at him. She wanted to believe him, wanted to accept the truth in his words. He didn't need her to be someone else. He needed her to be her. And that was enough.
"You drive me crazy, too," she said, her voice cracking with the weight of her feelings. "In the best way."
Jay's lips curled into a smile, and he gently pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in the warmth of his embrace. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, the world outside fading away. The fear, the doubt, the insecurities—all of it felt a little less heavy now. They weren't perfect, but maybe that was what made them perfect for each other.
After a few more minutes of teasing, laughter, and a whole lot of stolen glances, they finally managed to finish cooking. Erin took a step back, eyeing the plate of pasta with a pleased look.
"Not bad," she said, grinning, "You might have a future in this."
Jay chuckled, shaking his head. "This is only for you, babe."
They sat down on the couch, plates in hand, settling into the cushions comfortably as Jay grabbed the remote. Erin curled up next to him, a plate on her lap, as the TV flickered to life. They flipped through a couple of channels before landing on one of the gossip shows that was popular at the moment.
Jay had almost forgotten they had even been on the radar lately, what with everything going on in their lives, but as soon as they settled into the show, the screen flashed with the caption: Chicago's Power Couple? NFL Star Jay Halstead and Bestselling Author Erin Lindsay.
Erin froze mid-bite, her fork hovering just shy of her mouth as she looked at Jay. "Are they seriously talking about us right now?"
Jay laughed, shaking his head. "I guess we're 'officially' a thing now."
Erin rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Oh, great. This is just what I needed. We're going from low-key to tabloid fodder in the blink of an eye."
Jay grinned, his voice playful. "At least they're calling us a 'power couple.'"
Erin smirked. "Power couple? Please. I can barely make it to the grocery store without forgetting half the stuff on the list."
"Well, now you're a 'power couple' who forgets the avocados," Jay teased, nudging her with his shoulder.
The gossip show host's voice cut through the banter. "Sources say the two are growing closer, despite their hectic schedules. Could we be witnessing the beginning of a new power couple in Chicago?"
Erin snorted, shaking her head. "They really love the word 'power' for some reason. It's pasta and pajamas here, not a corporate boardroom."
Jay chuckled. "Apparently, we're more than just pasta and pajamas now, babe."
The host continued: "Erin Lindsay—author of The Light Within—and Jay Halstead have been seen together more than a few times recently, sparking rumors of a serious relationship. But does this mean love is in the air for the NFL star, known for his short flings, and the successful writer, who's been known to keep her love life private?"
Erin shot Jay a look. "Okay, so they've got the 'short flings' part right. But I'm starting to think they made up the rest of this stuff."
Jay leaned back, laughing. "It's like we're living in one of your books, but with less plot and more paparazzi."
She smirked. "I think they're going to be disappointed when they find out how boring our lives are."
Jay turned his attention back to the TV, where the host was gushing over the "new couple."
Erin grabbed her fork again, shaking her head in amusement. "I bet they think we're sitting in a penthouse somewhere, sipping champagne and plotting our next 'power move.'"
"Well, when you put it that way," Jay said, taking a bite of his pasta, "I think we need to start charging for these 'insider details' they keep throwing out there."
Erin laughed, leaning into him. "I'm just waiting for the next headline: 'NFL star and bestselling author… do dishes together.'"
"Right?" Jay grinned. "We'll make it a new trend. #PowerCoupleGoals."
They both laughed, the tension that had started to build around the media attention easing. For all the fuss they were making about their relationship, they knew it wasn't about any of that. It was just them, together, enjoying the simplest moments.
Erin shook her head, still smiling. "Well, if they're watching us, they're gonna be disappointed. No drama, no scandals. Just pasta and a ridiculous amount of reality TV."
Jay leaned down and kissed her forehead. "And that's exactly how I like it."
As they continued to laugh about the ridiculousness of it all, the TV show continued its coverage, but neither of them really cared. They were in their own little world, and that was all that mattered.
Later that evening, as they sat on the couch watching TV, the flickering screen casting soft light over the room, Erin found herself fidgeting with her fingers. Jay was distracted, his attention caught by the show they were watching, but Erin's mind was elsewhere. The lingerie, still sitting in the bag she'd tucked into her closet earlier, kept pulling at her thoughts.
Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Erin stood up, her heartbeat quickening. Jay didn't notice right away, still engrossed in the TV. She walked slowly to her bedroom, the bag tucked under her arm, her mind racing.
Jay heard the soft sound of Erin moving, but it wasn't until a few minutes later that he glanced around, realizing she was no longer sitting beside him.
"Everything okay?" he called out, his voice warm but laced with curiosity.
Erin paused for a second before answering, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… give me a second."
Jay's brow furrowed, but he didn't press her. He leaned back against the couch, waiting for her to come back.
When she finally emerged, her heart skipped a beat. There she was, standing at the threshold of the bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp behind her casting her in a warm, almost ethereal light. Her eyes met his, and she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.
She was wearing the lingerie.
It wasn't bold or over-the-top—it was simple, soft, delicate. A soft shade of blush pink, the lace catching the light in just the right way, the intricate details making her feel exposed in a way she wasn't used to.
Jay's breath caught in his chest, his gaze fixed on her, taking her in like she was something rare, something he'd never seen before.
Erin stood there for a second, her nerves threatening to make her turn and hide, but then Jay spoke, his voice low, sincere.
"You—" He stopped, almost at a loss for words. "You're stunning."
The compliment was simple, but the way he said it made her feel like she was the most important thing in the room. It wasn't just the words, but the way his eyes were locked on hers, like he couldn't look away.
Erin felt a blush creep up her neck, and she hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I—I know this is a bit… forward," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "But I just wanted to feel, I don't know… more confident. For you. I guess."
Jay swallowed, his pulse quickening as he stood up from the couch, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. His hands reached out, gently cupping her face, lifting her chin so that their eyes met again.
"Erin," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion, "you've never needed to do this for me. You're perfect just the way you are."
She bit her lip, but the warmth in his voice made her feel like she could finally breathe again. She stepped closer to him, letting the space between them disappear, her hands resting on his chest.
"I wanted to do it," she said quietly, her words barely above a whisper. "For me, too."
Jay's expression softened, and without another word, he lowered his lips to hers, the kiss tender but filled with an unspoken promise. Erin melted into him, feeling the rush of everything—the reassurance, the chemistry, the trust—flood over her.
The lingerie wasn't about perfection, or about being someone else. It was just another way of saying, I trust you.
And in that moment, Jay kissed her like she was everything he ever needed, just as she was.
She didn't need to be anyone else. Not for him. Not for anyone.
And as the kiss deepened, Erin felt something shift inside of her. The doubt that had lingered earlier was gone, replaced with something stronger—confidence in herself, in them. And Jay? He had made it clear time and time again that she was everything he ever wanted.
The heat between them only intensified, raw and desperate, as their lips collided with frantic urgency. There was no slow build, no tenderness to soften the intensity of their need. Jay's hands were everywhere—on her back, her hips, her thighs—his touch sending jolts of electricity through her, igniting every nerve. Erin responded with equal fervor, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she could swallow him whole, erase all the distance between them.
Jay's breath was hot against her skin, his lips trailing down her neck, teeth grazing her pulse. Erin's head tilted back, a soft moan escaping her lips, and the sound only fueled him, making him press harder against her. She could feel the roughness of his chest, the heat of his body, and it felt like everything—like every insecurity, every fear, was melting away in the fire of their connection.
"You're driving me insane," Jay murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pulled her tighter against him.
Erin's hands slid down his back, feeling the muscles tense and flex beneath her touch. She needed more, needed to feel him closer, but there was no space between them, no way to get any closer without completely losing herself.
Without thinking, she pushed him back slightly, just enough to look at him. His face was flushed, his expression wild and hungry, and Erin couldn't hold back anymore. She pulled him back to her, her lips claiming his again with a fierce urgency that left them both breathless.
"I need you," she whispered against his mouth, her voice raw with emotion. "I need you now."
Jay didn't need any more words. He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her toward the couch, never breaking their kiss, until they tumbled onto the cushions together, both of them breathing heavily, hearts pounding in their chests.
Erin's legs instinctively wrapped around him, pulling him closer, feeling the hard heat of him pressing against her. She could feel every muscle in his body tensing, could feel the way his hands gripped her, desperate to have her just as much as she wanted him.
The intensity was overwhelming, consuming them both. The world outside the couch ceased to exist, and it was just the two of them—lost in each other, caught in the raw passion of the moment. There was no space for doubts, no time for insecurity. Just them. Just this.
Jay's hands slid under her top again, the heat of his touch searing her skin, and Erin gasped, arching into him, her fingers working to pull his shirt over his head, desperate to feel more of him. There was nothing but the need, the want, the aching desire to be closer, to feel everything.
She pushed herself up slightly, her lips finding his once again, hungry and frantic. Jay groaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed her down against the couch, his body pinning her there with an intensity that stole her breath away.
Erin's hands roamed, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest, the rough skin of his stomach, feeling the heat of him under her touch. It was all so raw, so primal, and she couldn't get enough. She needed him—right here, right now—and it was all she could focus on.
Their bodies moved together, lost in the frantic rhythm of passion, the air thick with the sounds of their breath, their moans. There was no tenderness now, no hesitation. Just the consuming fire that had been building between them since they met.
"God, Erin," Jay breathed, his voice hoarse as he pulled away just enough to look down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You don't know what you do to me."
But Erin didn't need to hear the words. She could see it in the way he kissed her, in the way his body pressed against hers, in the way his hands moved over her skin with a need that mirrored her own.
"I need you too, Jay," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as her hands slid down to the waistband of his jeans, tugging at them, pulling him closer, urging him to take the next step.
But just as quickly as they had reached that fever pitch, something shifted. The tension in the room was so thick it was almost unbearable, but neither of them could bring themselves to fully cross that line—not yet. It was too much. Too intense.
With a breathless laugh, Erin pulled back slightly, her chest heaving as she looked up at him. "I think we're both about to lose our minds."
Jay, barely able to catch his breath, smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers. "We're pretty damn close."
And there, on the couch, they stayed—no more words, no more rush. Just their hearts, beating together in the quiet aftermath of the fire that had consumed them. Just the two of them, in the rawness of the moment, still tangled in each other's arms.
Jay's fingers gently brushed over her hair as they lay there, still tangled together on the couch, the quiet of the moment wrapping around them. His breathing was still uneven, and he couldn't help but glance down at her, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"Do you have to go to work?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse, like he was still coming down from the rush of their moment.
Erin's eyes flickered up to meet his, and for a second, she just looked at him, letting the silence hang between them. "I took the afternoon off," she replied, her words soft but filled with meaning.
Jay raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing his face. "For me?" His tone was teasing, but there was something deeper, something vulnerable hidden in his gaze.
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. I figured… I'd rather spend the afternoon here with you than deal with anything else right now." Her voice was a little quieter, a little more uncertain, as if she was unsure how he would take it.
His heart swelled at the thought of her putting everything else on hold for him, and his smile softened. "You know I'm not gonna let you put your work on the back burner for me," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "If I'm slowing you down…"
Erin shook her head quickly, sitting up a little, her hand brushing over his chest as she looked him in the eyes. "No, Jay. You're not. I wanted to take the afternoon off. I needed this… with you." She paused, her eyes softening. "I just want to be here. With you."
Jay felt something stir inside him at her words, a mix of gratitude and something deeper—something he didn't quite know how to name. He reached out, cupping her cheek gently with his hand. "You've already given me more than I could ever ask for. Don't worry about work. I'm not going anywhere."
She chuckled softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I know you're not," she teased lightly, though there was a certain warmth in her gaze. "But… I still want to be here. With you."
And just like that, all the unspoken worries and doubts seemed to fade away, replaced by the quiet, comforting reality of being with each other.
As time passed, Erin's mind started drifting back to the dinner she had next week—a work event with the publishing company that she was dreading a little more than she wanted to admit. She needed a dress, something that made her feel confident but wasn't too flashy.
"I was thinking about it earlier," Erin said, glancing at Jay, who was sprawled out next to her, scrolling through his phone. "I've got that work dinner next week. I really need to find a dress for it. Something… professional, but still me, you know?"
Jay looked up from his phone, a grin spreading across his face. "You? You're always 'you.' That's the one thing I know for sure." His voice held a teasing edge, but his eyes softened when they met hers. "I've seen the way you carry yourself. You don't need a dress to impress anyone."
Erin rolled her eyes, though her smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks, but still… I don't want to show up in something that's not right. And you know I'm not exactly the 'shopping' type."
Jay raised an eyebrow, the teasing glint in his eyes deepening. "Not the shopping type? I find that hard to believe. You're so particular about everything else, I'm sure you'd be picky about a dress, too."
"Hey!" Erin scoffed, nudging him with her elbow. "I can pick out clothes if I have to. It's just… overwhelming, you know?"
Jay leaned up on his elbows, a smirk forming as he looked at her. "Well then, lucky for you, I'm the perfect shopping buddy."
Her eyes widened in mock horror. "You? No way. You're about as good at shopping as I am at football, Jay."
"That's exactly why I'm the perfect guy for the job." He stood up, offering her his hand. "C'mon, let's go. I'll help you find the perfect dress. And if it takes all day, well, I'll just be there to make sure no one else tries to steal your spotlight."
Erin laughed, shaking her head. "You're serious, aren't you?"
He raised both eyebrows. "Totally serious. I've got an eye for this kinda thing. Trust me. You'll look stunning no matter what."
With a sigh, Erin relented and took his hand. "Alright, fine. But if we end up in some ridiculous store with sequins or floral patterns, I'm leaving you right there."
"I'll keep that in mind," he teased, pulling her toward the door.
The day unfolded in the hustle and bustle of downtown Chicago as Jay and Erin wandered through various boutiques, Erin on a mission to find the perfect dress for her work dinner. Jay, though skeptical at first, found himself getting more and more involved in the process, his eyes flickering with interest as Erin tried on one dress after another.
Erin stepped out of the fitting room in a sleek black dress that hit just below her knees, her hair falling naturally around her shoulders. She gave Jay a questioning glance as she turned to look at herself in the mirror.
Jay's eyes darkened for a second, impressed by how effortlessly stunning she looked. "Damn," he said, his voice low. "You could walk into any room in that and own it. But… you're still not feeling it?"
Erin sighed, giving her reflection a critical look. "It's good, but it feels a little… too much? I don't know. I just want something that feels more like me, not like I'm trying too hard."
Jay stepped closer, a playful grin crossing his face. "So, what's 'you' then?" He leaned against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of the dress. "Because I think you're pretty damn perfect in whatever you wear."
She smiled, a little bashful but grateful for his words. "That's sweet, Jay. But I want to be confident, not just look good. Something that says 'professional,' but still me. You know?"
He chuckled, pushing off from the wall. "I got it. We're looking for something that shows off the Erin Lindsay confidence, huh? Alright, let's keep going."
Erin rolled her eyes in mock annoyance but stepped back into the fitting room, eager to find something that felt right.
The next dress was a deep emerald green, silky and simple, yet it hugged her figure in just the right places. She hesitated a moment before stepping out, unsure if the color would be too bold.
Jay's reaction was immediate. His eyes brightened, and he raised an eyebrow. "Okay, now this is you. The color, the fit—everything about this screams 'I've got my shit together, but I'm still gonna have fun.'"
Erin laughed, twirling slightly to see how it moved. "Really? You think so?"
"I'm not just saying that," Jay said, stepping closer again to take in the whole look. "I can tell you feel good in this one. It shows you're confident, but still comfortable in your own skin. It's perfect."
She bit her lip, her mind racing as she studied herself in the mirror. She didn't know if it was the dress or Jay's approval that made her feel so at ease, but she found herself nodding. "Yeah, I think this might be the one. Thanks for all the help. I'm surprised you're actually good at this."
Jay grinned, a little too proud of himself. "I told you I was the perfect shopping buddy."
As they made their way to the checkout, Erin couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for Jay, for being there, for making her feel seen and confident in a way she hadn't expected when they started the day. It wasn't just about the dress—it was about the way he made everything feel easy, even when it was stressful.
The crisp Chicago air felt refreshing, and for once, there was no rush—just them, together, enjoying the simplicity of an afternoon that wasn't about work, games, or headlines.
Erin stopped in front of a men's clothing store, her eyes catching on a display in the window. A deep navy jacket paired with a crisp white shirt and tailored trousers. The mannequin wore it well, but she knew Jay would wear it better.
She tugged on his hand. "Come on. Let's go in."
Jay arched a brow, amusement flickering across his face. "Since when do you care about men's fashion?"
Erin rolled her eyes. "Since I have a boyfriend who looks ridiculously good in literally everything but insists on wearing the same few things over and over."
Jay chuckled but let her drag him inside. "Babe, I'm a jeans and T-shirt guy. That's my brand."
"And yet, you clean up insanely well," she shot back, already scanning the racks with interest.
Jay stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching as she flipped through different pieces, occasionally holding something up as if imagining it on him. He had to admit, seeing her this invested in what he wore was… kind of hot.
Erin pulled out a dark blue sweater, holding it against his chest. "This color would look amazing on you."
Jay glanced down at it, then back at her. "You're really into this, huh?"
She smirked. "You know, for someone who talks a lot of game, you're surprisingly slow to catch on."
Jay's mouth twitched as he leaned in a little. "Oh, I catch on just fine. I'm just enjoying watching you dress me up like your personal Ken doll."
Erin hummed, tilting her head. "Ken wishes he looked this good."
Jay burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Okay, fine. Pick whatever you want. But if I end up looking ridiculous, I'm blaming you."
"You won't," she said confidently, already piling a few shirts and jackets into his arms. "Now go try these on."
Jay sighed dramatically but took the clothes. "Yes, ma'am."
A few minutes later, Erin stood outside the fitting room, leaning against the doorframe as Jay stepped out in the first outfit—fitted dark jeans, a white button-up, and the navy jacket she'd spotted in the window.
Erin's breath hitched slightly. "Oh."
Jay smirked. "That good?"
Erin dragged her gaze up to his, pretending to scrutinize. "I don't know… maybe a little too good."
Jay turned in the mirror, checking himself out. "Gotta say, you've got an eye for this. But do I really need more clothes?"
Erin shrugged. "Maybe not. But I like seeing you in things I pick out."
Jay chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. "You just like knowing you're the only one who gets to take them off me."
Erin bit her lip, trying (and failing) to fight back a grin. "Maybe."
Jay leaned in, brushing a kiss against her cheek before murmuring against her skin, "Then I guess I'll have to get them all."
"Oh no," Erin stated, "I'll get them.For you."
Jay glanced at the price tag and let out a low whistle. "Babe, this is way too much. I don't need it."
Erin crossed her arms, standing firm. "You don't need it, but I want you to have it."
He shook his head, amused. "I can buy my own clothes, you know."
"Obviously," she shot back. "But I picked it, I want you to have it, and I'm buying it for you."
Jay gave her a look, half affectionate, half exasperated. "Erin…"
"Nope." She cut him off, grabbing the other items he'd tried on and marching toward the register. "This isn't up for debate, quarterback."
Jay followed, still protesting. "You do realize I make a ridiculous amount of money, right?"
She turned, smirking. "And yet, you still wear the same six shirts in rotation. Clearly, you're not spending it on clothes."
Jay huffed out a laugh, watching as she confidently handed over the items at the register, her expression making it clear she wasn't backing down. He could've argued more, but honestly? He kind of liked it—her picking things for him, insisting on doing this for him. It was different from what he was used to.
As she finished paying, she turned to him with a satisfied smile. "There. Now, you have no excuse not to wear something new."
Jay shook his head with a grin, wrapping an arm around her waist as they left the store. "You really are something else, you know that?"
Erin leaned into him, her smirk softening. "Yeah, but I think you like it."
Jay kissed her temple, murmuring against her skin. "I know I do."
As they stepped into a cozy coffee shop, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounded them. Jay guided Erin toward a corner booth, letting her slide in first before taking a seat across from her.
"What are you getting?" he asked, glancing at the menu board above the counter.
Erin hummed, considering. "Probably just a simple tea."
Jay smirked. "Boring."
She shot him a playful glare. "Not all of us need five espresso shots to function, quarterback."
Jay chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. I'll go get them."
A few minutes later, he returned with their drinks, setting Erin's tea in front of her and taking a sip of his own coffee before settling back into his seat.
"So," Jay started, resting his arms on the table. "What's the plan for tonight?"
Erin shrugged, wrapping her hands around her cup. "Honestly? I was thinking of just taking it easy. I've got work in the morning, and you have practice, so…"
Jay groaned dramatically. "Ugh, don't remind me."
Erin smirked. "Poor baby. Running around throwing a football all day sounds so exhausting."
Jay narrowed his eyes at her teasing tone. "You joke, but it's real work."
"I know, I know," she said, laughing. "But still, you should probably get some rest."
Jay tilted his head, studying her. "And what about you? You've been working a lot lately."
She shrugged again. "That's just how it is when I'm deep in a project. It's not like I have set hours. The ideas come when they come."
Jay smirked. "So you're saying I'm dating a genius who can't control when inspiration hits?"
"Something like that," she teased, taking a sip of her cappuccino. "But yeah, I think a quiet night is the way to go. Maybe a movie?"
Jay pretended to consider. "Only if I get to pick."
Erin raised an eyebrow. "Not a chance. Last time, you made me watch that dumb action movie where everything exploded every five minutes."
"That was cinema," Jay argued.
"That was garbage," Erin corrected.
Jay sighed dramatically. "Fine. We'll compromise."
Erin smirked. "You mean I pick, and you pretend you had a say?"
Jay leaned forward, his voice dropping just slightly. "Babe, you always have a say."
Erin rolled her eyes but couldn't help the warmth spreading through her. "Good answer."
Jay grinned. "Thought so. Now finish your tea, girlfriend. We've got a movie night to prepare for."
Erin watched him,an uneasy feeling in her,as she sipped her tea,"Do you think we are going too fast?Seeing each other so much,spending so many nights together?I-"
Jay looked up from his coffee, his brow furrowing at her sudden hesitation. The easy playfulness they'd shared a moment ago faded as he took in her expression—uncertainty flickering in her green eyes, the way she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
He set his cup down, his movements slow, deliberate. He wasn't going to push, but he wasn't going to let her sit in this alone either. "Hey," his voice softened, laced with concern, "where's that coming from?"
Erin let out a small sigh, shifting in her seat. She stared at the cup between her hands, her fingers lightly tracing the rim as if the words she needed were hidden there.
"I don't know," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just… we've been seeing each other almost every day, sleeping over, waking up together, and it's—it's really nice, but…" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I don't know, Jay. I'm just wondering if it's too much, too fast. If we're—"
Jay reached for her hand across the table, his fingers curling around hers, stopping her nervous fidgeting. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and steady, grounding. "You're overthinking."
She let out a small, breathy laugh, though it lacked real amusement. "Maybe."
He tilted his head slightly, studying her with those sharp, perceptive eyes that always saw too much. "Do you feel like it's too fast?"
Erin hesitated for half a beat before shaking her head. "No," she admitted, her voice softer now. "It feels… right."
Jay's grip on her hand tightened just enough for her to notice. "Then that's all that matters." His lips quirked up slightly. "You think I'd be here, drinking overpriced coffee and talking about movie night if I thought we were moving too fast?"
Erin let out a small chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly, but the doubt was still there, lingering in her eyes. "I just—what if it changes? What if we wake up one day and realize we blurred all the lines too soon? That we got caught up in something that—"
"Stop," Jay interrupted gently, his voice firm but not unkind. He turned her hand over, running his thumb across her palm now, slow and deliberate. "Erin, I'm not going anywhere."
She swallowed, her heart picking up speed as his words settled over her.
"I know what I want," Jay continued, his voice even, unwavering. "And I knew it from the start. When I followed you, when I texted you, when I saw you at that damn gala and knew I was in trouble." He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Hell, I probably knew it before you even gave me the time of day."
Erin's breath hitched, warmth creeping up her neck, wrapping around her chest in a way that made her want to lean in, to hold onto what he was giving her.
"Look, I get it," Jay went on, his grip still steady, still there. "You've got every reason to be cautious. To question if this—us—is happening too fast. But I don't care how fast or slow this is." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, making sure she felt every word. "What I care about is that I want to be with you. And unless you want space, unless you feel like this isn't right, I'm not gonna question it. I like spending my nights with you. I like waking up next to you. And if it's fast?" His eyes searched hers, something raw flashing in them. "So what? Feels a hell of a lot better than pretending I don't want you every second of the day."
Erin stared at him, her pulse hammering against her ribs. The intensity in his eyes, the certainty in his voice—he meant every word. And that scared her as much as it made her want to throw herself into his arms.
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around his. "Okay," she whispered.
Jay's lips twitched into a smirk, though there was warmth behind it. "Okay?"
She let out a breath, a real smile finally tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah."
His grin widened as he lifted their joined hands, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the back of hers. "Good," he murmured against her skin. He pulled back just slightly, a teasing glint back in his eyes. "Now that we've established that, can we please get dessert?"
Erin laughed, shaking her head, her heart still hammering but for a different reason now. "You and your sweet tooth…"
Jay smirked, leaning back in his chair, his fingers still laced with hers. "Hey,you're the one influencing me!I'd have to hit the gym early now, or Coach will roast me."
"You hit the gym every single day,damn I'm jealous of how fit you are.I'm not that disciplined about that kind of-." Erin said,still playing with his hands.
Jay cut her off, his voice gentle but firm, his brow furrowed. "Erin, what are you talking about? You don't think you've got an amazing body?" His eyes swept over her, his gaze lingering in a way that made her pulse quicken. "Because I can't think of a single thing I'd change about you. Not a thing."
The intensity in his eyes made her heart beat harder, and she swallowed, unsure of how to respond. Part of her still felt uncomfortable with the idea of someone being so sure about her, so sure that she was enough.
But another part of her—the part that had always struggled with her own insecurities—felt like she could finally breathe, like maybe, just maybe, she was worthy of that kind of love.
"Well, now you're just trying to get me to blush."
Jay winked, his smirk playful but tender. "Maybe. But I mean every word."
They sat there for a moment, the space between them filled with a comfortable silence. It wasn't awkward or forced—just the kind of quiet that felt right, the kind that made Erin feel like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Finally, she leaned back in her chair, her fingers still entwined with his, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "Alright, alright," she said, her voice teasing. "Let's get dessert before you talk me into getting all emotional."
The evening had unfolded effortlessly, the kind of easy night that felt more like a retreat than just another evening. By the time they got to Jay's apartment, the air had shifted, charged with the quiet comfort that came from simply being with each other. Erin had left briefly to grab a few things from her place—clothes, some things she'd forgotten to bring over the past few nights—and Jay had swung by the takeout place for their favorite dinner. The scent of greasy Chinese food mixed with the sweetness of the dessert he'd picked up filled the air as they walked inside.
Jay kicked the door shut with his foot and set everything down on the counter. Erin followed, a small bag of clothes in hand. The sound of their laughter and light conversation filled the space between them.
But then, as she made her way to the couch, something caught her eye—a news notification on Jay's phone, sitting face-up on the coffee table. Erin's brow furrowed as she walked over and grabbed it. Her eyes quickly skimmed the headline, a sour feeling creeping up her spine.
"'NFL Star Jay Halstead and Bestselling Author Erin Lindsay: New Romance or Just Another Hollywood Fling?'" she read aloud, glancing over at Jay.
He rubbed his hand over his face and let out a sigh, leaning against the counter. "I swear, it never stops."
"Wait, is this for real?" Erin raised an eyebrow, showing him her phone screen. Another headline flashed, "Public Romance: Jay Halstead and Erin Lindsay's Growing Relationship—How Long Will It Last?"
Jay snorted, an amused but tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, real charming, huh?"
"You've got to be kidding me." Erin's voice was low, the frustration threading through her words as she clicked through to the next article. It was a full-on analysis—photos of them walking together, laughing, even snippets of their casual kisses. "What is this? Some kind of… personal life auction?"
Jay chuckled dryly, his gaze flicking over to the articles, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Looks like it. I swear, one minute it's all sunshine and rainbows, and the next…" He motioned to the phone in her hands. "They're writing stories about us like we're some kind of soap opera."
Erin shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and irritation growing in her chest. "I mean, seriously? They're acting like we're already doomed from the start. 'Will Jay Halstead break her heart?' Like, are we really that predictable?"
"They love the drama," Jay said, crossing his arms. "It's like they need a story to tell, even if it doesn't have anything to do with reality."
"But that's the thing," Erin countered, her frustration bubbling up. "This isn't reality. They're making up their own narrative. They've already decided what we are and what we're not. There's no space for anything real."
Jay walked over to her, taking her phone gently from her hands. His expression softened as he met her eyes. "I know it sucks, but this is part of the package deal, Erin. You get the good with the bad. We're not exactly private people. Everything about us is under a microscope."
She nodded, biting her lip as she glanced down at the table. The weight of it all was settling on her now—the public eye, the constant speculation, and the assumptions they were forced to deal with because of their fame.
Jay let out a sigh, sitting down next to her on the couch. "I get it. It's frustrating. But I can't control what they say. Hell, if I could, I'd probably be taking out half of these tabloids myself."
Erin gave a short laugh, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess it's not exactly a quiet life, huh?"
"Not even close," Jay said with a grin, nudging her playfully. But his expression shifted as he looked at her more seriously. "But if you're worried about any of this… If it's too much, if you're not ready for all of it, just say the word. I'll step back."
She shook her head, a little smile tugging at her lips despite the weight of the conversation. "I'm not asking you to step back, Jay. I'm just…" She hesitated. "I don't know. I hate that this is how they're painting us. Like they're already predicting the end before it even starts. It's just a lot."
"I know," he said softly. "But we're not the ones writing the headlines, right?"
"Right," Erin muttered, the edge of her voice betraying her discomfort. "And then they say stuff like 'Will Jay leave for the trenches? Will Erin be the next one he breaks?' I mean, come on. It's like they're obsessed with watching people fail."
Jay leaned in and kissed her forehead, his hand finding hers. "They'll write what they want to write, Erin. But we don't have to let it bother us. I know you—this isn't about us failing. It's about us living. We've been doing this our way, and that's all that matters."
Erin met his gaze, her voice soft but steady. "I guess I just don't want anyone making assumptions about us. Not yet, anyway."
"I hear you," Jay said, his thumb rubbing her knuckles reassuringly. "And you're right. We get to decide what's real, not anyone else."
She smiled, the weight in her chest lifting just a little. "I'm still not thrilled about all the photos, though."
Jay chuckled, his smile returning. "Well, at least we look good together. You think they'll post our dessert picks too?"
Erin rolled her eyes, but a genuine laugh slipped out. "Maybe next time, Jay. Maybe next time."
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer, the noise from the news articles and headlines fading into the background. They might be plastered all over the tabloids now, but the one thing no headline could capture was the truth of what they had—the connection that was theirs alone, untouchable by the stories written for clicks.
"Let's just enjoy the night," Jay said, "No more tabloid talk. Dessert first?"
Erin grinned. "Oh no,Chinese first,then dessert and definitely headlines later."
And with that, they dug into the takeout, the desserts, and the peace of each other's company, determined to leave the noise of the world behind for just a while longer.
As they finished the last of the Chinese food, Jay and Erin were lounging comfortably on the couch, the remnants of their meal spread out on the coffee table. The evening had gone from an overwhelming rush of tabloid drama to a quiet, intimate moment. Jay had his arm draped over the back of the couch behind Erin, and she had her legs curled up beside him, the weight of the world—at least, the media world—fading away.
Jay picked up his phone from the side table and glanced at the screen. The notifications kept flooding in, all messages about the photos from earlier—headlines and speculation about their relationship. He let out a soft sigh, setting the phone down again.
"I can't believe how fast the world wants to write our story for us," Erin murmured, curling her fingers around his wrist.
Jay smirked, but there was an edge to his smile, something almost defiant in his eyes. "Maybe it's time we give them a different story," he said quietly, the tone of his voice catching her attention.
Erin looked up at him, a mix of curiosity and skepticism in her gaze. "What do you mean?"
Jay didn't answer right away. Instead, he slid off the couch and stood up, stretching for a moment before walking toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror that covered one of the walls. He shot Erin a quick glance, a playful smirk spreading across his lips. "Trust me, just follow my lead."
Erin tilted her head, confused but intrigued. She stood up, moving toward him as he tapped the phone screen a few times to open the camera.
"Come here," he said with a wink, holding out the phone to her.
"Jay…" Erin began, raising an eyebrow as she crossed the room. "What are you up to?"
Instead of answering, Jay pulled her into his arms, positioning them in front of the mirror. He held the phone out at arm's length, capturing the reflection of the two of them in the mirror. The soft lighting from the overhead lamps highlighted the genuine look between them—her green eyes sparkling, his hand gently resting on her waist, their closeness impossible to miss.
Erin's heart skipped a beat as she caught the glint in his eyes, the mix of mischief and affection that only seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. Her hand moved to his chest as she leaned in closer, brushing her lips against his cheek just as the camera snapped. It was a natural move, something so simple, but the way Jay caught it in the moment felt almost deliberate.
The photo that appeared on his phone was everything she hadn't expected: it was raw, genuine, and full of undeniable chemistry. In the reflection, they were close, their faces inches apart, her hand resting softly on his chest, his gaze locked on hers with an intensity that spoke volumes.
Jay turned the phone toward her, showing her the image. Erin was momentarily stunned. It was a candid moment, one that had captured the essence of what they were—together, yes, but also more than that. It was real.
"Let's show them the real us," Jay murmured, brushing his lips against her temple. "No more of this bullshit 'fame drama.'"
Erin nodded slowly, a smile creeping onto her face. The weight of the tabloids and headlines suddenly felt distant, irrelevant. What they had in that moment, captured in that mirror selfie, was all that mattered. She kissed his cheek softly, her hand sliding up to his neck as she leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and deliberate. A kiss that spoke of reassurance, of the bond they shared, of the realness that couldn't be captured in a tabloid.
Jay's lips brushed against hers again, and the soft press of his mouth ignited something warm in her chest. As they pulled away, Erin let out a small laugh, her fingers still gently playing with the collar of his shirt.
"I guess that's one way to handle the paparazzi," she said, a playful glint in her eyes.
Jay laughed softly, holding her even closer now. "Yeah, let them write what they want. But this?" He gestured to the photo they'd just taken, still in the phone. "This is the truth. No headlines can touch that."
The photo was everything they needed—an unspoken message to the world. A quiet protest to the noise outside. Their story was their own, written in moments like this: real, tender, and nothing like what the tabloids would ever make of it.
Jay sent the picture out with a simple caption: Perfect kind of night.
No frills. No drama. Just them, as they were—imperfect, messy, and yet perfectly in sync.