I’m falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I’ve held on to
I’m standing here until you make me move
I’m hanging by a moment here with you
I’m living for the only thing I know
I’m running and not quite sure where to go
And I don’t know what I’m diving into
Just hanging by a moment here with you
– Hanging by a Moment, Lifehouse

---

Tuesday, December 28, 1999

Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she was happy or irritated when she turned the corner and found Jason leaning against the wall next to her door. After the day she’d just had, she wondered if he’d say something that was supposed to reassure her. The last time he’d tried that, she’d just wanted to smack him with a baseball bat.

“Uh, hey.” Jason straightened as she approached and pulled out her keys. “We have a problem.”

She unlocked her door and shoved it open. “I hope we have the same problem or else my day is going to get worse.”

Jason frowned as he walked into the studio ahead of her. He reached the sofa and turned. “What do you mean?”

“You first. What’s wrong?” Elizabeth unzipped her jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. She unclipped her hair, letting it spill down around her shoulders. She blinked when she realized Jason hadn’t said anything, but was just staring at her. “Jason?”

“What—” He shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry — I — Sonny told me that Nikolas went to the PCPD to try to get me arrested for the Christmas party.”

“Of course he did.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Well, that’s funny because my problem is also about the—” She stopped when he winced. “Wait, is that why Taggert and Capelli stopped me on the pier?”

“They already questioned you?” Jason made a face when she nodded. “Damn it. I was hoping to get to you first. Look—I know you were just trying to help, but—” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “What’s the damage? How bad is it?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. Then it hit her. Why he looked so worried, why he was so irritated —

“The damage,” she repeated softly. “Because I’m a silly little girl who either told them the truth or lied my ass off, right? Either way, now you think I’m in trouble because I don’t know what’s going on. I’m too stupid to understand.”

Jason flinched, exhaled slowly. “No, that’s not—I just—”

A sharp knock on the door cut him off, and Elizabeth turned away from him, grateful for the interruption. She swiped at her eyes—she was not going to let him see that he’d upset her. First she’d throw him out and then she’d cry.

She peered through the window of the door, then growled. “What the hell—” Elizabeth yanked it open. “I told you, I have nothing to say—”

“Look, Elizabeth, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to—” Taggert froze, then tensed when he spied Jason over her shoulder. “What, did you call him to compare stories?” he demanded.

Elizabeth threw open the door and stood back so that both men were facing each other. “What story?” she asked coolly. She folded her arms. “Did I tell you any stories, Taggert?”

“Elizabeth—” Taggert began.

“Let me call Alexis,” Jason said at the same time. Both men stopped talking, then glared at each other.

“Just in case Taggert tries to tell you differently,” Elizabeth said to Jason, “he wanted to ask me a couple of questions. He asked me two. I answered one.”

“I’m sorry about Capelli,” Taggert continued.

“He asked me if I saw you on November 30, and I told him yes,” Elizabeth told Jason, ignoring the detective. Not taking her eyes from Jason, she continued, “Taggert, did I tell you anything else?”

“No,” Taggert bit out. “But—”

Jason’s expression didn’t change, but she knew it was because of the cop in the room, so Elizabeth turned back to Taggert. “I told you, I have nothing else to say to you. Or to anyone else at the PCPD. You got two questions. It’s not my fault Capelli wasted the second one. If you want to talk to me again, you better have an arrest warrant. Good bye.” She slammed the door in his face and stalked past Jason to sit on the sofa and tug off her boots.

“I’d wait a few minutes for him to leave,” Elizabeth said without looking at Jason. She tossed her boots with her other shoes. “And then you can get out, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said after a long moment of silence. He sat on the sofa, careful to sit as far away from her as possible. “I just—”

“Didn’t trust me,” Elizabeth said. She jerked a shoulder. “It’s fine. You know they’re investigating you for Anthony Moreno, right?”

Jason winced. “Did they tell you that?”

“In a roundabout way. Capelli wasted his question trying to be cute,” Elizabeth said. She turned slightly, drawing her leg underneath. “He asked me how long I screwed you before you left to kill Moreno.”

Jason’s expression tensed, and his nostrils flared. “He what—”

“I told him that my personal life isn’t relevant, so I wasn’t answering the question and I walked away. I think Taggert came here trying good cop, bad cop again.” She rubbed her fist absently against her chest. “I’ll just stay away from them. I’ve already told them I won’t say anything without a lawyer, so we should be fine.”

“Yeah, I—” Jason pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his tone softer. “I should have trusted you. You’ve never let me down.”

“Give me time. I’m pretty good at disappointing people.” A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, staring at her fingers. “And, you know, this is my fault anyway. I’m the one that told Nikolas—I’m the reason—”

“Hey—” Jason leaned forward, waiting for her to look up. “He came in and found me half-dressed on your sofa, Elizabeth and threw around accusations. He was already thinking it.”

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t have to throw gasoline—” She sighed. “It’s just frustrating. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m doing something wrong. And before you say it’s about you—it’s not. It’s me. Because they all bring up Lucky. That was Nikolas’s problem. Lucky’s only been gone eight months—and my grandmother—” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her lips. “I wonder if this would hurt even more if it were true.”

Jason frowned slightly, shaking his head. “What do you mean?”

“If—” Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat even as she continued, “if you and I were—if I was dating anyone—” she added, “and people were judging me for moving on. It’s been eight months.” She closed her eyes. “In a few weeks, it’ll be nine months. He’s dead. He’s gone. And I worked so hard to be okay with that.”

“Elizabeth, hey—”

“And I am okay with it. I am,” she insisted, when she could see the doubt in Jason’s expression. “It sucks, and it’s terrible, but I can breathe. I can see a future for myself without him, and that wasn’t true even a few months ago. And the people who love me—they don’t care. They’re not even happy—and if I were really moving on, I think—”

And maybe that was why this hurt so much. Because she was moving on. It didn’t matter that Jason wasn’t moving with her, that he was still just a friend. She knew what her feelings were, even if they didn’t matter. And maybe that’s what Nikolas, Emily, and her grandmother could see.

It hurt like hell that they didn’t want her to be happy, to date, to fall in love again.

“I really think it is because they think it’s me,” Jason told her softly. “When you do start to—” He paused and his expression almost looked pained, “when do you start to date again, they’ll be fine—”

“But they don’t know the truth,” Elizabeth said, “so for all they know, I’m happy with you, and that doesn’t matter to them—ugh, you don’t get it,” she muttered. She shoved herself off the sofa. “I know, to you, because it’s not true, it shouldn’t matter what they think because in a few weeks—” She wrapped one arm around her waist, and bit the thumb on her other hand. “That’ll be worse,” she muttered.

“How?” Jason asked. She heard him stand, but Elizabeth didn’t turn to face him. “Won’t this be better when everyone moves on to the next thing?”

Because everyone would think he’d broken up with her. No one would ever believe she’d leave him. And for Jason, it would be over, but Elizabeth would have to still deal with the smirks and the pitying looks. And because telling him that would be too close to admitting that she wanted this to be more, so she closed her eyes, swallowed hard, then turned around to smile at him.

“You’re right. Everything will be better when this is just a memory.”

Jason frowned at her, searching her eyes. “Don’t do that,” he said darkly. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Then don’t—” Elizabeth huffed. Men. Morons. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that, Jason. You’re not a woman, so you don’t get it. This will be better for you when it’s over. But no one is going to forget. They’re just going to think we broke up, and—” She hissed. “I’m not doing this. This is the same stupid argument from last night, and I’m just tired. Can we just leave it at that?”

She walked over to the sink, wishing she had some brushes she could pretend to wash. Could she ask him to leave? How could she just get him to leave her alone and stop asking questions—

“Because of what they said about you,” Jason said slowly, “people are going to think I broke it off.”

Damn, she wished he wasn’t smart or didn’t know her so well. “I know it doesn’t matter what people think. Or that it shouldn’t,” she added. She bit her lip. “But it does. And none of this is your problem. It was my lie that started this, my friends and family who made it public knowledge—”

“You lied for me.” He was closer to her now, and she could almost feel his breath on her neck, shivers sliding across her skin.

Elizabeth slowly turned around—Jason was only a few inches away from her. She lifted her chin so that their eyes met and held. “You were hurt. And I wanted Nikolas to leave so I could make sure you were okay.”

He tucked an errant curl behind her ear, a finger tip sliding around the curve of her ear. “And I am. Because of you.” There was something different in his eyes—something she’d never seen before, and the way his breathing had changed.

“The things they said,” Elizabeth said, “they’re true. I know they’re the reasons you’d never look at me, and it’s going to hurt when people say it’s why—”

“They’re wrong,” Jason told her, his voice husky, his fingertip trailing down her cheek bone to sweep across her chin. “And they don’t know anything about you. Or me.” He dipped his head down, and just before their lips met, “They don’t know anything about us.”

Then he kissed her.

---

This had not been the plan.

Jason had intended to get to Elizabeth before the PCPD could, and tell her not to say anything without a lawyer. Then he was going to leave because all the gossip would go away faster if they weren’t seen together.

Then he’d been stupid and said something that had hurt her—then Taggert had showed up and proved to Jason that not only had he been stupid—he’d been arrogant to assume Elizabeth would leap at the chance to tell the PCPD they’d spent the night together.

Then she’d been pissed at him, and when she’d walked away from him, upset because he didn’t understand why it mattered what people thought about them because they weren’t technically a them —

The truth had finally slammed into Jason like a freight train. It hurt Elizabeth that people didn’t think she was the kind of woman that would keep him because she wanted to be, and she thought they were right.

And he couldn’t stand for her to think that. To entertain it for even a second. So when she’d looked at him with her beautiful eyes, and that hair he’d just wanted to slide his hands through since the moment she’d removed the clip—

Jason stopped thinking.

And he kissed her.

He forced himself to keep it light, to keep it soft—because if he showed her how much he actually wanted her, she might run screaming from the building—

Or maybe Jason wasn’t ready to find out Elizabeth really did feel the same.

Her lips was soft, sweet, and trembled slightly underneath his—then they parted and he dipped his tongue in to taste her, to see if she was sweet all over—

With a sound that might have been a purr, Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck and tipped her head, pressed herself closer to him. Jason’s hands dove into her hair, sliding through the soft, silky strands.

Elizabeth’s hands slid down from his neck to his chest, and then she gently pushed. Jason stepped back, ending the kiss as they stared at each other, their faces flushed, breathing shallow.

“I—” Elizabeth began, but before either of them could say a word, there was another knock at the door. A pounding. She winced, then went over to the door. “It’s Taggert again,” she said with a mutter.

Jason swore, then yanked the door open. “She told you—” he began, but then stopped as Taggert, with a few other officers behind him, held up a piece of paper.

A search warrant.

---

Elizabeth stared at the search warrant that Taggert dangled in front of her, struggling to process not only what was happening in front of her but what had happened less than two minutes ago.

Jason had kissed her.

Jason had kissed her.

Jason Morgan had kissed her.

She knew she should be focusing on the search warrant and the police officers standing behind the irritated detective, but her brain was screaming at her that she needed to shut the door on him, turn around and ask Jason what the hell that had meant before they lost the moment—

“Last chance,” Taggert said, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to him. She frowned. “Answer my questions—”

Behind her, she heard Jason make a sound that might have been a mixture of a growl and a hiss, and she knew that he never ever showed Taggert any reaction — except when Taggert was harassing her.

Because she didn’t want to explain to anyone why Jason was arrested for committing assault against an officer, Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I read it?”

“Excuse me?” Taggert frowned, letting his hand fall slightly. “Read it?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I’d like to read it so I know what you’re looking for and so that I can make sure you don’t touch anything or take anything you’re not supposed to.” She held out her hand.

Taggert squinted. “Did you go to law school this semester or something?” he demanded. “Or is Morgan giving you lessons?”

“Uh, this is the state of New York and I watch Law & Order,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “Reruns are on, like, all the time. So I know that if I request a copy of the search warrant before you come in, you have to give it to me. I’m not allowed to stop you, but I am—”

Taggert glowered but shoved the paper at her. She unfolded the paper and frowned at it. “You’re looking for bloody clothing, firearms, and any other evidence that suggests involvement in a crime.” She wrinkled her nose. “That seems really vague, doesn’t it?”

“Elizabeth—”

“Oh. You have a mistake on your warrant.” Elizabeth beamed at him. “My studio is on the fourth floor. You have it listed as the fifth.” She handed it back to him. “You need to correct that or anything you find might be thrown out of court.”

Taggert stared at her. “Who are you?”

“You heard her—” Jason began but Elizabeth waved him off. She could handle this.

“I mean, if you execute this search now with incorrect paperwork,” Elizabeth explained to Taggert, “I’m just going to tell the lawyer I hire to sue the PCPD that you knew it was incorrect and that you verbally, in front of witnesses that include your fellow officers, made it clear that you were planning to illegally search my studio for vague evidence because I was exercising my constitutional right to remain silent. It’s your choice.”

Taggert pressed his lips together. “I will be back with corrected paperwork,” he told her. “And the officers are standing right outside to make sure you don’t throw anything out—”

“I would think you’d want me to throw things out,” Elizabeth said, opening her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Because then I’ve abandoned the property and you don’t need a warrant. Isn’t that why they’re staying?”

He stared at her for a long moment, then turned to the officers. “Let’s go,” he muttered, snapping his fingers. Elizabeth watched them go down the hall and head into the service stairs. She closed the door, letting all of the air out of her chest at once. She felt slightly dizzy and light headed.

“How—” Jason paused. “How did you know to do that?” he asked.

She turned. “What? Oh. I meant what I told him. They have reruns on Law & Order on one of those cable networks all the time, and I spent like half the spring watching them over and over again.” She folded her arms. Elizabeth squinted at him. “Do you think he’ll be back with corrected paperwork? I wonder if he thinks the canvas knives count as evidence.”

“I’ll call Alexis,” Jason said, still staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Elizabeth—”

“I know it must come as shock to you, and clearly to the rest of the world, but I know how to take care of myself. I’m not helpless,” she told him. “I’m sorry if that’s a problem—”

“It’s not.” Jason gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he added. “I just—I hate that you’re being dragged into this. Alexis will make it go away. You’ve told Taggert you’re not answering questions, and I know she could get a search warrant thrown out.”

“Thanks.” She bit her lip, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t think they can force me to answer their questions, right?”

“You mean Law & Order didn’t cover this?” he asked with half a grin. She rolled her eyes. “No. Unless he decides to be really stupid and make it seem like you’re an accomplice—but that’s not going to happen. No one knows I was shot or that you took care of me.” He hesitated. “Except Sonny and Bobbie.” He sighed. “And Carly.”

“Oh. Well, Carly’s not going to do anything that would get you arrested,” Elizabeth said. Then winced, remember what had happened earlier that year when Carly had accidentally had Jason briefly accused of kidnapping Michael. “Not again, right?”

“Probably not on purpose, but Carly isn’t predictable. Let’s not—” Jason took out his phone as it rang in his pocket. He grimaced at whatever was showing up on the screen. “It’s Sonny. I have—I have to go.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth rubbed a finger against her lips and watched his eyes drop to her mouth. Feeling a bit bolstered by that, she decided not to get mad they couldn’t talk about it right now. It had still happened, and it wasn’t like they could forget it entirely.

Right?

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said.

“I’ll see you later.” Jason waited a minute, then walked past her, and with another look over his shoulder, left.

Wednesday, December 29, 1999

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth hummed to herself as she refilled sugar canisters behind the counter and kept an eye on the door to Kelly’s, wondering if Jason would come by at closing like he used to before the shooting. He knew she was working the closing shift because she had met her new guard, Francis, who had walked her to work from the studio that morning. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having a guard but it also wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Bobbie smiled at her as she sat down with the evening’s receipts in her hand as well as the ledger for the diner. “You’re in a better mood than the last time I saw you.”

“Oh, well, that was at the Christmas Party,” Elizabeth reminded her as she finished the last canister and started to refill the ketchup. “Nikolas made things a little annoying for a while, but it’s starting to get better.”

Maybe if Jason came by, they’d go on a ride and he’d kiss her again. Or could she kiss him? She grinned to herself. It was so silly to think about something like that, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt silly—

“I am so sorry,” Bobbie was saying when Elizabeth tuned back into the redhead. “That I didn’t realize earlier. I should have talked to Jason before.”

Elizabeth frowned, tipping her head. “Before?”

“Well, I suppose I didn’t know that Nikolas or Audrey had been by,” Bobbie continued, “or that they knew about Jason. I never imagined anyone would actually believe you and Jason were dating.”

Elizabeth’s stomach rolled slightly as she swallowed hard. “Well, Nikolas can be impulsive,” she said faintly.

“I know. But it wasn’t until the party when I realized that it would be a problem. It didn’t help that you left with Jason and Sonny,” Bobbie said with a shake of her head. “Everyone believed it then.”

“I was supposed to stay at the party with Nikolas and my grandmother? After he’d humiliated me?”

“Well, no, I suppose not. I guess I just wish I had anticipated how messy it would be. And it’s dying down, just like you said. I should have talked to Jason before the party, when I realized he was probably well enough to leave.” Bobbie smiled at her, a warm smile that still felt slightly wrong. “I feel guilty, Elizabeth. I should have seen that you were getting a bit of a crush.”

“A crush,” Elizabeth repeated. “I—”

“When I realized it, I went over to talk to Jason, and he realized it was awkward, too—”

Oh God. “Did you—” Elizabeth swallowed, horrified. “Did you tell him I had a crush on him?”

“Of course not, sweetheart.” Bobbie squeezed Elizabeth’s chilled hand. “I just told him it wasn’t a good idea for you to be known as Jason Morgan’s girlfriend, and he agreed.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “You did this the day after Christmas.” The day when everything had seemed fine one moment, and then the next, Jason had been moving out and not speaking to her for nearly twenty-four hours.

“Yes. It’s all right, Elizabeth. Jason’s a good man, and I can see how you could get your head turned a bit. With you at college now, you’ll meet someone who will make you forget all about this little crush.” Bobbie beamed at her, then looked down at the receipts. “Oh, damn, I forgot to carry the one.”

“I need to go—” Elizabeth forced a smile. “I need to go in the back for a minute.”

Leaving the smiling woman at the counter, Elizabeth ignored DJ behind the stove and went over to the walk fridge.

“Lizzie, don’t go falling asleep in there—”

Elizabeth turned to him, her hand on the metal handle of the door with a sigh. “DJ, what was after locusts again?”

“Darkness, Lizzie,” the cook offered. “But I told you, you don’t want to be tempting none of that.”

“Maybe I do,” she muttered and went inside to let the cold air hit her cheeks and force some common sense into her silly little brain.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Jason shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling strangely anxious as he walked towards the double doors of the diner, seeing the closed sign on the door. He knew she was still here—he’d called the new guard just to make sure.

But he couldn’t see her through the window, only Bobbie talking to Francis and putting on her coat. A moment later, the redhead emerged and smiled at him. “Jason! We’re closed. I just sent DJ home—”

“I’m here to pick Elizabeth up,” Jason said. “She’s still here, right?”

“Oh, she’s in the back with that guard you sent her. I guess you’re more worried about those rumors than I thought.” Bobbie hitched the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she told him.

Jason frowned, shook his head. “What’s not a good idea?”

“Spending all this time alone with Elizabeth,” Bobbie said, stressing the last word. “I mean, we talked about this, didn’t we? Elizabeth didn’t need a reputation that isn’t true, and well—” Bobbie pursed her lips. “I really shouldn’t say anything, but you’re a nice man. And you don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Baffled, Jason shook his head again. “No, I don’t—”

“She has a bit of a crush on you,” Bobbie told him. “Now, she knows it’s not going anywhere. She and I talked about it—she knows you and I talked after Christmas, but I think—”

Jason put a hand up. “Bobbie,” he said, cutting her off. “What do you mean, Elizabeth knows it’s not going anywhere?”

Bobbie pursed her lips, squinted her eyes. “Well, I told her what we talked about after the party. About how you agreed she didn’t need to be known as your girlfriend—”

For the life of him, he would never, ever understand women. “Bobbie, did you tell Elizabeth that I don’t have feelings for her?”

A bit taken aback, Bobbie hesitated. “Not in those words, exactly,” she said, drawing the words slowly, “but I’d be surprised if she didn’t take that view.” Her mouth formed a little circle. “Oh. Oh, dear. I was trying to help, but—”

“But you did the exact opposite,” Jason muttered, dragging his hand over his face. First all the dumb customers in her face about how she wasn’t his type, and the idiot warehouse workers, and Nikolas and her grandmother—the cops—

Not to mention Jason couldn’t have handled any of this worse than he had.

“Jason, are you telling me you are interested in Elizabeth?” Bobbie asked skeptically. “She’s eighteen—”

“And technically I’m twenty-five,” he bit out. “I know that. But I don’t exactly remember all twenty-five of those years, do I? Why does that matter?”

“Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Bobbie said. “And she’s been through more in the last two years than most adults deal with in a lifetime.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just—I love her so much. I want her to be happy. I just don’t see how this—I mean, can you imagine what Carly is going to do?”

He didn’t have to imagine—he knew exactly what Carly would do if Jason publicly showed interest in another woman. “It’s my life, Bobbie. And it’s Elizabeth’s choice. Not anyone else’s.”

“Of course, of course. Well, she’s in the back. I’m sorry,” Bobbie said again, but Jason ignored her and went into the diner.

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Elizabeth emerged from the pantry, the last of her closing responsibilities completed and walked out into the front of the diner—stopping when she saw that Francis was gone and Jason was standing at the counter. “Oh.” Nervous, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if you—”

“I thought you might want a ride home,” Jason said. He paused. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure. Um—”

“I parked the bike in the alley.” He gestured towards the back of the diner. “I’ll get the lights and the door.”

“Okay.” Flustered and not really sure she was comfortable with any of this, Elizabeth went behind the counter to get her purse and coat. Jason flipped the locks and turned off the light.

In the alley, Jason went out first, and Elizabeth followed letting the heavy security door fall shut. She started towards the bike, but then he turned to her and Elizabeth barely had a minute to register what was happening before his mouth was on hers and she was pressed against him, his hands in her hair.

Elizabeth’s purse dropped to the ground and her arms went around his neck. She leaned up on the tips of her toes, returning his kiss with everything she could manage in her limited experience.

“I’ve been thinking about that all day,” he murmured as he drew back. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, not really trusting her own ears. “Since yesterday. Longer.”

“Really?” Elizabeth said, a bit breathless, her heart pounding. “You’re not…” She licked her lips. “But Bobbie—”

“She was wrong.” He dipped his head to kiss her again and Elizabeth decided not to argue anymore.

I think I’m dyin’ nursing patience
It can wait one night
I’d give it all away if you give me one last try
We’ll live happily ever trapped if you just save my life
Run and tell the angels that everything’s alright
– Learn to Fly, Foo Fighters

---

Monday, December 27, 1999

Vista Point

Jason had planned to put more distance between himself and Elizabeth after he’d left the studio the day before. In fact, he’d planned to go back to way it had been before she’d found him that morning in the snow — two people who occasionally ran into each other and were friendly.

He wasn’t sure what made him think that was a possibility after the last four weeks, but he knew once he’d listened to his sister’s angry voice mail that day at the warehouse, there was no point in pretending.

The whole world knew Elizabeth Webber was important to him, even if they had no idea what they were talking about.

He pulled over at the Vista Point observation deck, and Elizabeth hopped off the bike, pulling the helmet over her head, her hair cascading down over the leather jacket he’d given her for Christmas.

“That was just what I needed,” Elizabeth told him with bright eyes and a wide smile. He returned the smile, and stowed the helmet on the back of the bike. “Where are we?”

“You’ve never been up here?” Jason asked as he led her from the parking lot over to the observation deck where benches had been installed.

“No—” Elizabeth leaned over the guard rail, looking over the cliffs encircling Lake Ontario. “I bet there’s a good view of Spoon Island when the sky is clear,” she said.

“Probably. I’ve never been up here during the day.” He leaned against the railing, watched for a minute. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, looking at him. “No.” She huffed. “I was going to tell Emily the truth,” she muttered. “But she showed up at the end of my shift after I’d already dealt with customers smirking at me, Carly, and my grandmother. And—” Elizabeth eyed him. “Obviously, I can’t tell my grandmother why she found you at the studio.”

Jason accepted that with a nod. Audrey Hardy would not appreciate knowing that her granddaughter had been taking care of a gunshot victim and hiding him from the police. “No, that would not be a good idea.” He winced. “Carly?”

“I can take Carly,” Elizabeth assured him. “In fact, if my grandmother hadn’t shown up—” She sighed. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Emily tomorrow. She was just annoying me. Like I’d committed some horrible crime by not telling her we knew each other.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “She knows that. You asked for me help when she was trying to sneak off to Puerto Rico.”

“But she thinks there’s more now. She has a nasty habit of always taking Nikolas’s side,” Elizabeth admitted. “It’s always been that way. She assumed what he said at the party was true, and didn’t even stop to think there might be anything else going on.” She lifted herself up to sit on the railing. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help you, and literally everyone in my life made it worse.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Jason told her. “I’m sorry it made trouble for you—”

“Only with the people who don’t think I can make my own decisions.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I’ll talk to Emily,” she repeated, “but I’m not talking to Nikolas right now after what he pulled, and he’d be harder to explain things to. He can’t be trusted with the truth.” She sighed, looked away. “He couldn’t even be trusted with a lie.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason repeated.

“It’ll be something people talk about for a minute, and then it’ll go away,” Elizabeth assured him. “Someone will do something insane at New Year’s, and it’ll be old news.” She met his eyes, searched them for a long moment. “Unless you think there’s another way to handle it.”

Jason hesitated. Until the call from Emily, Jason’s plan had been to avoid Elizabeth entirely. If they weren’t seen together, no one would take the fight at the party seriously — but — “You said customers were talking about it?”

“Yeah, I had a packed section,” Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes. “And would you believe half of them didn’t even bother to tip? Cheap bitches,” she muttered. She stared at her hands. “Just a few snickers. I overheard a couple of people saying some things—”

When she stopped talking, Jason’s stomach tightened and he stepped closer. “Saying what?” he demanded in a low voice. Damn it, Bobbie was right — he should have left long ago. He could have managed on his own after the first week. “Elizabeth—”

“Nothing worth repeating,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry about it. Really—”

“Who was it?” he pressed. “Was it college kids or—”

“Some workers from the docks,” Elizabeth admitted. She hopped off the railing and walked a few steps in the opposite direction. “Um, a few of them I think I recognized from the warehouse. I got your meds from Sonny there once. And then a few of the others—I think—” She turned to look at him finally. “There was a table of guys I know work for Moreno.”

Jason hissed, looking away. “Moreno,” he muttered. He hadn’t been seen since the shootout, and Jason thought he was probably dead. He couldn’t be sure, but— “What did they say?”

His tone had shifted, become harder and flatter and she flinched. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I—”

“One of the guys told me when I got bored with you, I should look him up—” Elizabeth slid her hands in her pockets. “And I—” Her cheeks flushed, and she stared at the ground. “That’s really all that table said.”

That table. “What about Sonny’s guys?” Jason bit out. How were they treating a woman that was clearly linked to him?

“Jason, it’s really not a big deal—”

“Elizabeth.”

She looked up and when she met his eyes this time, he could see the confusion in her expression. “Jason, it’s not like we’re dating. It doesn’t matter what they say—”

“They don’t know that,” Jason retorted. “So it matters. What did they say?”

“Just that I didn’t seem like your type,” Elizabeth said finally. “Apparently, they think you got the good girl out of your system when you broke up with Robin, and I didn’t even have her ass to make up for my lack of—Can we drop it now?” she demanded. “Or do you also want to talk about the women who came in and decided I wasn’t built enough to—” She clenched her jaw, turned around, and started towards the parking lot.

Jason winced, then went after her, his longer legs overtaking hers just as she reached the parking lot and the bike. “Elizabeth—”

“I told you,” Elizabeth said, tossing her hair back. “I didn’t want to talk about it. So can you just take me home?”

Jason exhaled slowly, then handed her the helmet. “I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. “They shouldn’t be talking about you that way—”

“They’re guys,” she said, pulling the helmet, and fastening the strap. “That’s what they do—”

“No, I mean—” He cleared his throat, unsure what to do with any of this. He could see that the way her customers had talked about her had hurt her feelings—and worse—he could see in the flush of her cheeks and the look in her eyes that she agreed with what they said.

And he didn’t know if either of them would be better off if Jason liked the way her body just the way it was, so he remained silent and started the bike. He waited for her to climb behind him, then took her home.

He’d been insane to think that just by leaving the studio he could put their friendship back the way it had been.

Nothing was going to be the way it had been before the night he’d been shot and the morning she’d dragged him back to the world of the living.

Tuesday, December 28, 1999

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth’s second day back at work after the party didn’t go much better than the first, though she noted that no one from the Corinthos-Morgan coffee warehouse sat in her section and the few guys that did come into the diner studiously avoided looking at her.

She wasn’t really sure how to take that—wondering how Jason had made that happen and what’d he had to say to them. He’d been so angry at the idea that people were talking about her, but Elizabeth didn’t know what good it did either of them for her to spell out the reasons in great detail why no one believed he’d look twice at her.

And it was worse because Elizabeth knew that he wouldn’t, so she really didn’t need to have those reasons in her head or have to say them out loud to Jason.

But thankfully, Emily and her grandmother stayed away—Elizabeth wasn’t looking forward to setting Emily straight since she was still annoyed, and she didn’t want another round of her grandmother’s disapproval. The only problems Elizabeth had were Moreno’s guys returning to ogle her and more women who came to smirk at the silly girl with no boobs trying to get their hooks into an older man who couldn’t possibly be satisfied—

And she still got screwed on tips.

She left work and decided to have an early night at the studio, curled up on her sofa with the secondhand television that she’d given herself for Christmas—with her door locked and the ringer on her phone turned off.

But a quiet night at home wasn’t going to happen. At least not before Elizabeth ran one more gauntlet.

Waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs on the pier were Detectives Marcus Taggert and Andy Capelli. She hissed, drew up in front of them, and wrinkled her nose. She should have taken the long way round to the studio.

“Are you going to move,” Elizabeth began, “or are you standing there for a reason?”

“We have a couple of questions,” Taggert began with a smooth smile that she recognized, “if you have a minute.”

“What if I said I didn’t?” Elizabeth said. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, irritated with herself for leaving her gloves behind at Kelly’s in her haste to leave the diner.

“Then we’d arrange to talk at the station with an attorney,” Capelli said. “What’s it gonna be?”

So he was going to be the bad cop. Fantastic. Elizabeth pursed her lips. “What’s the question?”

“November 30,” Taggert said, meeting her eyes. “You happen to see Jason Morgan that night?”

November 30. The night she’d received that terrible art grade and danced with Jason at Kelly’s.

It was also the night Jason had been shot. They were asking her if she could alibi Jason on a night she knew he’d been out committing crimes.

Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said simply. When she said nothing else, Taggert’s smile turned into a scowl.

“Is that all you want to say?” he demanded. “Just yes?”

“I see we’re abandoning good cop already. You asked me a question, Detective. I answered it—”

“I see Morgan’s trained you well,” Taggert snapped as Elizabeth attempted to walk past them. “Fine. Where did you see him? What time did you see him? And for how long did you see him?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long time. “That’s three questions. You said you had a couple. Which is two. I’ve answered one. You get one more. I’ll be nice. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Fine,” Capelli interrupted as Taggert opened his mouth. “How long did you spend screwing Morgan before he went off to kill Anthony Moreno?”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason braced himself as Johnny O’Brien pushed the door open and he went into the penthouse for the first time since the night he’d been shot. Since the night Carly had waltzed down the stairs in nothing more than Sonny’s shirt. The shirt Sonny had been wearing before Jason had taken the meeting that nearly killed him.

He stayed near the doorway, watching Sonny carefully as his boss poured himself a tumbler of bourbon. “You wanted me to come by?” he said evenly.

“Yeah.” Sonny sipped the liquor. “We got a call from our guy in the PCPD. Anthony Moreno’s body was pulled from the harbor over Christmas. Shot twice. Once in the chest, and once in the head. Took a few days to identify him.”

Jason nodded, taking in the information. “I thought Sorel would do a better job at making him disappear,” he said, “but that tracks. I got off a shot as I left—that’s probably the chest wound. No way I managed a shot to the head.” Not in that condition. “Sorel probably finished the job.”

“That’s what I figure.”

“Then what’s the problem? Why am I here?”

“Our guy at the PCPD called. Nikolas Cassadine tried to file assault charges,” Sonny continued, “for the Christmas party. He was laughed out of the station, but not before Taggert got the details.”

Jason stared at Sonny for a long moment, then drew his brows together. “I don’t—What—”

“Nikolas essentially told the entire town that you and Elizabeth were sleeping together,” Sonny reminded him. “And, in the report at the PCPD, he stated that he knew that was true because he’d found you at her studio in December. You disappeared for most of the month, around the same time Moreno did. And now Taggert knows exactly where you were for some of that time.”

Jason growled, pulled out his cell phone as he yanked open the door, already dialing Alexis Davis’s number. “Jason—” Sonny said, following him into the hallway. “Listen—”

“He’s going to ask Elizabeth for my alibi,” Jason cut in. “And—” God, Elizabeth would probably do it, trying to help. It would go into an official report that she’d been with him that night for everyone to see and speculate about.

“It’s not the worst idea,” Sonny began, but Jason whirled around at the elevator. “She’s solid as a rock—”

“She doesn’t need to be in the middle of this.” He muttered a swear when he only got Alexis’s voice mail.

“She’s already there—”

“Moreno’s guys are going to Kelly’s,” Jason told him Sonny bluntly. “Making comments. They already know who she is. And you think it’s a good idea for her to alibi me for an entire night? That just confirms what everyone is saying. Damn it—”

He jabbed the elevator button. “I need to get to her. To tell her not to talk to the PCPD without a lawyer—”

“Jason—”

But Jason was done talking to him, and the doors closed on Sonny’s face.

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth could see from Taggert’s murderous expression that Capelli’s question had not been the plan. He glared at his partner. “That’s not what I wanted to ask—”

“Too late,” Elizabeth said coolly. “So, you’re interested in my sex life, Detective Capelli?”

“Damn it,” Taggert muttered. He dragged his hands over his face. “Elizabeth—”

“I mean, that’s the question,” Elizabeth said, widening her eyes. “You wanted to know how long Jason and I were having sex before he left that night. What—like how many times or—”

“That’s not—” Capelli threw his hands up. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me—”

“No,” Elizabeth said slowly, “I am merely clarifying your question. You asked me how long I spent screwing Jason before he left to go kill someone. The second part of that isn’t a question. It was a statement. So it sounds like you’re interested in my sex life. You’ll have to take a number, Detective.”

She turned and walked in the opposite direction. She’d take the long way around Bannister’s Wharf.

“Elizabeth—damn it!” Taggert rushed after her, grabbed her arm. “Wait a second. Just—”

“Don’t put your hands on me—” She backed up a few steps, and the detective grimaced. “You don’t get to be pissed with me because your partner didn’t follow the script.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You should be. Because I have no intention of answering any questions from either of you or anyone else at the PCPD about the details of my personal life. Not without a lawyer or a judge telling me I have to. Am I under arrest?”

Taggert pressed his lips together. “No.”

“Then get out of my way and let me go home.”

‘Cause I’m just a girl, I’d rather not be
‘Cause they won’t let me drive late at night
Oh, I’m just a girl, guess I’m some kind of freak
‘Cause they all sit and stare with their eyes
Oh, I’m just a girl, take a good look at me
Just your typical prototype
Oh, I’ve had it up to here
– Just a Girl, No Doubt

---

Monday, December 27, 1999

Kelly’s: Kitchen

“I will not get arrested, I will not get arrested,” Elizabeth Webber muttered, leaning against the brick wall, her eyes closed, counting to ten.

She opened her eyes to see DJ, the cook, staring at her with one dark brow lifted. “You got problems, Lizzie?”

“Problems. Do I got problems?” she repeated. Elizabeth huffed, then straightened. “Do you want to know what my problem is?”

“Am I going to be sorry I asked?”

“Do you see that crowd of people out there?” She gestured out the serving window where Kelly’s was uncharacteristically crowded for a pre-dinner rush hour. Kids were still on their holiday breaks and most of the warehouses were shutdown for the holidays. Kelly’s was usually dead this time of day.

But not today.

Today, someone must have told someone else who told the world that Elizabeth Webber, town harlot, was back at work because her shift had started with a stampede of people who wanted to look at her. Whisper. Giggle and wonder what Jason Morgan saw in her.

“I see them,” DJ said. “You should take their orders—”

“Do you think people are lining up to snicker at Jason?” she demanded. “No. Because I’m the woman. He can do whatever he wants—”

—including moving out of the studio abruptly with no warning or explanation that made a lick of sense, then not bothering to even call her today, the first day in almost a month they hadn’t seen each other, bastard couldn’t wait to shake her loose—

“Well, I don’t know, Lizzie, if Jason Morgan worked at a diner, maybe people would be—”

“Oh, don’t try to help, DJ,” she muttered. She grabbed her order pad and stalked out into the dining room, hoping that some of these gawkers would at least tip her well.

They did not. In fact, some of them didn’t tip at all. Maybe, she thought nastily as she bussed a table because Gavin had flaked again, maybe those beach blonde bimbos thought Jason paid for everything because that’s how they would handle dating a sexy, rich—

“You are an idiot,” she muttered to herself. She dumped the tub in the kitchen, then went back out into the diner, wincing when she saw Carly Quartermaine seated at the counter. Because of course she was.

“Are locusts next?” she asked the ceiling.

“Now, don’t you be tempting the Good Lord, Lizzie,” DJ admonished her. “He’ll strike you down for it.”

“He’ll have to get in line,” she retorted.

“Having a bad day, Lizzie?” Carly asked as she picked up a menu, doing her best nonchalant expression. “I guess it hurts to know Jason couldn’t wait to get away as soon as everyone knew he was slumming it with you.”

“I actually think I’d be an upgrade,” Elizabeth said with a sweet smile. “But I’ll take your word for it since no one knows trailer trash better than you.”

Carly slapped the menu on the counter, her brown eyes sparking. “You wanna go a round?”

“Today? I absolutely do.” Elizabeth held up a finger. “But I’m warning you—I fight dirty. I pull hair, and I bite. And you can ask my brother Steven to show you the scar I gave him when I was six. Served him right for cutting my doll’s hair for a pretend surgery.”

Carly’s scowl deepened, and Elizabeth thought she might actually take her up on the offer — until another figure approached them. Elizabeth winced as she locked eyes with her disapproving grandmother and Audrey’s thin, tight smile.

Carly twisted on the stool. “Oh. Mrs. Hardy. Here to pick Lizzie up for her Girl Scouts meeting?”

“Carly,” Audrey said, carefully. She stepped around the blonde. “Would you mind if I spoke with my granddaughter alone?”

Elizabeth sighed as Carly shrugged and picked up her coat. She’d rather get into a fistfight in the back alley than go another round with her grandmother, but Carly slid off the stool.

“See you around, Lizzie,” Carly tossed over her shoulder.

“Say hi to your husband for me!” Elizabeth called after her. Then turned her eyes on Audrey. “Gram, let’s save us both some time. You’re disappointed in me. Very disappointed. What would my parents think —” She waved her hand in the air. “And so on.”

“Actually, I was wondering what Lucky would think.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together as she took that in, the tightness in her chest beginning to ache. “I think,” she said softly, “that Lucky loved me very much. And that he would want me to get on with my life. I’m only eighteen, Gram. I didn’t die with Lucky. No matter how much I wished I had.”

“Oh—” Audrey closed her eyes, shook her head. “Of course that’s not what I meant. But it was such a shameful display at the hospital—how could you—”

“I didn’t do anything, and you know it. I was there to work the party. Jason and I were just talking, and Nikolas started that fight. Jason and I didn’t do anything wrong—”

“When did this start?” Audrey demanded. “Before or after November?”

“Wondering if you have a case at the PCPD? Gonna try to get him on statutory rape?” Elizabeth said, biting out the final word. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.” She sighed. “There’s nothing to tell before November—”

“But there is something to tell?”

Another anguished voice came from behind Elizabeth, and she turned, surprised to find her best friend, Emily Bowen-Quartermaine, standing there. She must have come in the back alley. “Emily—”

“How could you keep this a secret from me? I’m your best friend. He’s my brother!”

Elizabeth was nearly at the end of her rope with this damn day. “I was right, DJ. It’s the locusts—”

“Locusts? Elizabeth, will you never be serious?” Audrey sighed.

“You should have told me!” Emily said, very nearly stomping her foot. Elizabeth looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed in relief.

Four-thirty. It was over.

“I didn’t tell you, Emily, because I don’t owe you the details of my life. I choose to share them, but you don’t get to demand anything from me.” Elizabeth untied her apron and shoved it on the counter. “My sex life is my business. Not yours—”

Audrey moaned slightly as she pressed a hand to her head. “Oh, dear God, what would your grandfather say if he were here?”

“Sex life!” Emily repeated, her eyes bulging. “You’re having sex—”

“That’s it. Party’s over,” Elizabeth decided. She stalked past Emily to the kitchen where she’d stowed her coat and purse for a quick get away out the back. “Hey, DJ, what comes after locusts?”

“Darkness,” the cook said with a sad shake of his head. “But don’t you go temping that, Lizzie. There are bad things in the dark.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Tell me about it,” she murmured, then she pushed open the security door and left the diner.

Elm Street Pier

For half a minute, Elizabeth thought about staking out a position on the pier to see if she could run into Jason. She should probably warn him that she hadn’t set Emily straight on the platonic nature of their relationship—

But then she realized that if Emily went over to scream at Jason about something that wasn’t any of her business, he’d get a small taste of the nonsense Elizabeth had lived through that day —

And if she found some perverse pleasure in that, Elizabeth wasn’t going to complain.

Besides, as soon as she came to the top of the stairs, she saw Nikolas Cassadine, her former best friend, sitting on one of the benches.

And her ire only grew.

All of this was because Nikolas couldn’t mind his own business. Couldn’t respect her boundaries. Thought he had a right to tell her what to do—

She sauntered down the steps, and he turned at the sound. He drew his brows together. “Elizabeth,” he said warily. He got to his feet.

Good, he should be worried.

“At what point did I give you the impression that you had any right to tell me what to do?” she asked coolly.

“I know you’re angry—”

“Angry? You humiliated me in front of half of the town,” Elizabeth snapped. “I don’t want you, Nikolas. Get over it.”

His cheeks flushed as he lifted his chin. “That’s not what this was about—”

“No? Could have fooled me. We were friends. Until you tried to kiss me, and I didn’t want it. I don’t want you,” she said flatly. “And I felt really bad about hurting you. But you don’t have that same problem. You didn’t care that you were hurting me, that you were making my life more difficult—”

“If you’re ashamed of your affair,” Nikolas sneered.

“Affair? I’m single, Nikolas. I didn’t die last April, and I am not going to spend the rest of my life alone! If it wasn’t Jason, it was always going to be someone. Just admit it, Nikolas! You’re not mad that it’s Jason, you’re mad that it’s not you—”

Nikolas glowered. “He’ll just hurt you. The way he did Robin—”

“And that would be my business. Not yours. You and I are done, Nikolas. The Cassadine in you really jumped out,” she said. “We’re not friends. Maybe we never were—”

“You know that’s not true—”

“When we first met, you didn’t like me,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And I didn’t like you. Let’s go back to that. I think our first impressions were correct.”

She turned and stalked up the stairs, leaving Nikolas behind.

For good this time.

PCPD: Squad Room

Marcus Taggert was not having a great first day back after a holiday break. He grimaced as he listened to the irritating hold music on the other line. All he wanted was a John Doe floater to be fingerprinted.

Why the hell did everyone keep acting like it was so damn hard? It wasn’t his fault the body had been dumped in the harbor and so bloated and decomposed that it couldn’t be identified visually. Did anyone think Taggert wanted to look at those damn photos first thing in the morning?

He scowled at the phone receiver in his hand as if the pathologist on the other line could see him. “Well, can’t you just run the prints? No, no. Don’t give me this bullshit about it being a holiday. That was yesterday. Pick up the stiff’s fingers, roll them in some fucking ink—don’t give me attitude, Carson, or the next person you talk to will be the Commissioner.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’ll wait.” Never failed. As he waited for the pathologist to return to the phone, he scanned the squad room and noted his partner, Andy Capelli, taking a statement from an increasingly irate Nikolas Cassadine.

When the younger man stormed out of the room, Taggert lifted his brows. “What’s his damage?”

“Oh, he wants me to file assault charges against Jason Morgan,” Capelli said. “Can you believe Elizabeth Webber has gotten mixed up with that asshole?” he snorted.

“Mixed up with? Like—” Taggert winced. “Sleeping together?” No. Not possible.

“Says Elizabeth confirmed it. He found Morgan with her in a studio her grandmother rented for her birthday a few weeks ago.”

“Well, she’s not the first good woman to see something worthwhile in an asshole,” Taggert said. The pathologist came back on the line finally, and the name had him clenching his teeth. “You’re sure—hey, cut the sarcasm, asshole—yeah, okay, send me over the full autopsy when you’re done.”

He set the receiver down gently in the cradle. Digested the news and let it roll around in his head.  “When did Cassadine say he saw Morgan at Elizabeth’s place?”

Capelli glanced at his notes. “Ah, around mid-December. Maybe the 13th. He didn’t remember for sure. Why?”

Taggert pursed his lips and tapped his pen against his desk blotter. “You said there was a fight. Was it that day?”

“Yeah—Cassadine wasn’t talking about that one though. Apparently they got into it at the GH Christmas party, too.” Capelli leaned forward, his dark eyes focused. “You think there’s something to the assault charge?”

“No, I’m thinking about timing. I remember thinking I hadn’t seen Morgan around for a while, and usually I do. We both go to Kelly’s for coffee almost every day, but I didn’t see him around much in December.”

“So, then I guess he was holed up with the Webber girl then—”

“Or,” Taggert said slowly, “she’s been covering for him. The guy at the morgue printed my floater. Anthony Moreno.”

“Anthony—” Capelli closed his mouth and just stared at him. “Moreno. Corinthos and Morgan’s rival. But Morgan’s too smart to dump a body like this—”

“I’m not saying I have all the details worked out. I’m saying that it’s all very interesting, and I’m not sure I buy that Jason Morgan is sleeping with Elizabeth Webber. Not—not like this.” Taggert hesitated. “I mean, everything she’s been through—Morgan—” How did he phrase this so that Capelli would understand?

“Morgan’s protective of her. I could see that the one time I saw them together. I don’t know why she’d be covering for him, but I also don’t believe it’s what Cassadine thinks it is. It’s…it’s worth finding out exactly how long its been since anyone saw Moreno and if Morgan has an alibi for that time period.”

“All right, let’s go check it out.”

Studio: Back Alley

Elizabeth turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the motorcycle parked by the door to her building—and the man leaning against it. Jason Morgan arched a brow at her as she stood there like an idiot. “Hey.”

“Um, hey.” She approached him, folding her arms nervously. “What—why—”

“I was wondering,” Jason said with a light grin that made something in her chest flutter, “why I got a voice mail from my sister demanding to know why I hadn’t told her about us. Apparently, you wouldn’t tell her because our sex life isn’t any of her business.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, deciding she needed to answer that question very carefully because truth be told, she was pretty sure she just figured out what it meant to be turned on by someone just speaking.

Because Jason referring their sex life—even fictionally—was making everything inside her feel sparkly and fluttering—and stupid.

And if she opened her mouth right now she might do something insane like ask him to repeat our sex life on a loop for the next fifty years.

“In my defense,” Elizabeth said, “I’m not wrong.”

Jason tipped his head. “Yeah?” His grin stretched even further. “How so?”

“The fact we, uh, don’t have a sex life isn’t relevant.” She met his eyes, then arched her own brows. “It still doesn’t make it her business. Or do you tell your sister about every woman you sleep with?”

Well, that was wildly inappropriate, Elizabeth decided as she watched Jason’s eyes widen slightly. She was nearly ready to apologize and stop this ridiculous attempt to flirt—

Oh my God, was she trying to flirt with Jason Morgan?

But then Jason just nodded. He held out the helmet, and Elizabeth took it from him. “You’re right. And if she was half as irritated with you in person as she was in the message—well, I guess you deserve to have a little fun.”

“That’s what I thought.” Elizabeth fastened the helmet, climbed on the back of the bike. “This has been the absolutely worst day.”

“Cliff road?”

“Fast.”