Written in 63 minutes.

---

April 2000

“I knew it wouldn’t stay quiet forever,” Sonny muttered, finishing the last of the bourbon and sliding the empty tumbler across the bar towards Luke. “He hasn’t bothered you yet because he knows—”

“Bothering me is bothering you and I don’t think he’s ready to take that on just yet. But no doubt, all this peace we’ve had for the last year is Moreno biding his time. You keep your guard up.” Luke finished his own drink — whiskey for him. “And be ready. Because once he comes for me, you’re not far behind.”

“No, that’s for sure. I’ll keep in touch.”

Sonny stopped at the door let Lucky pass by. “Lucky,” he said, politely. “How are things?”

Lucky said nothing, sparing only a dirty look for his former employer, and headed inside to the bar. Sonny shook his head. It was a shame really, the kid had had such potential once.

“You fix that snag your mother had over at Deception?” Luke said, tossing the used glasses in the green plastic tub. “She seemed panicked on the phone—”

“Bug in the inventory software. It’s fine.” Lucky perched on the stool. “Can I get one of those?” he asked when his father passed by the line of taps.

“No, you’re not twenty-one. And it’s noon. What’s the problem, Cowboy? Why do you want to drink away your sorrows this early?”

Lucky squinted, then dragged a hand down the side of his face. “Nikolas. He was at the office, and barely looked at me. He and Emily are still pretending I don’t exist.”

“Well, that happens sometimes in a breakup. People choose sides.” Luke set a bottle of water down in front of his son. “I know it hurts because Emily was your friend first, and the Dark Prince is family of a sort, but you need to stop letting all of that bring you down. Didn’t you say you were going to register for classes next fall?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just—” Lucky rolled the bottle in his hands. “I apologized to all of them. Months ago. None of them wanted to listen. Elizabeth—she got to them all—”

“I don’t know about any of that—”

“She made it sound like I committed genocide instead of standing her up—I just wanted to make her remember me, Dad. To think about me once a in while. Is that so bad?”

Luke hesitated. “I don’t know if I’m the person to be asking for advice, Cowboy. All I can say is actions have consequences. Elizabeth decided she didn’t like what you did, and that’s her right. Emily and Nikolas will come around. Give it some more time.”

—

It was stupid to be nervous. Stupid to be standing in front of the entrance to the garage, planning what she wanted to say over and over and over again. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have even blinked at walking in, and there was nothing about that week on the island that should change any of it.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at at the tickets in her hands. It had been a months since they’d come home, and she hadn’t seen Jason once, not even in at Kelly’s. Though that wasn’t really his fault — she was working a lot of the opening shifts so she could spend all her free time in the studio at school, prepping for the show.

Maybe she’d go in, see him and it would all be the way it used to be. No nerves. Just Emily’s older brother who’d gotten her out of some jams this year—

And who she’d walked on the beach with in the moonlight, and had touched his bare chest—

Shut up. You’re insane. Just open the damn door.

Elizabeth finally tugged the front door open and walked through the lobby to the garage bay where she could hear the sounds of metal clanking. There was a four-door sedan parked with its hood up. One tanned hand curled over the edge of the car, and she could make out a gray t-shirt.

“Jason?”

The hand jerked off the car, and Jason appeared a minute later, his eyes just a bit wide—startled, she realized when he immediately reached for the rag in the back pockets of his jeans, started to wipe his hands. “Elizabeth. Hey. Uh. Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry for, um, just dropping by like this, but I didn’t—” She bit her lip, came forward so she could see all of him, and wasn’t talking to him with a car between them. “Emily’s okay. No one’s been arrested or anything.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t think that’s why—” Jason hesitated, seemed to avoid looking at her. “That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, we’ve both been too busy for bar fights. Finals and everything. Um, that’s why I’m here. The art show, you know the one I talked about on the island? A-nd a few months ago?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yeah. I remember. It’s coming up, isn’t it?” Jason lowered the hood.

“Yeah. Next week. It’s—they  gave us tickets to give to family members. I just—don’t really have a lot of family. That lives here.  I have four of them, and—well, Emily and my grandmother. And Nikolas. But—” She held up the ticket. “I just wanted to invite you.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, he finally looked at her. “Me?” He sounded so surprised, and it threw her off.

“Yeah. I mean, I know you said you didn’t do anything, but the project that got me into the show—it’s—” She closed her eyes, heat spreading in her cheeks because this was going so badly. He couldn’t be making it more clear that he wasn’t interested in any of this. He could barel look at her. Just get through this and get out, she told herself. She opened her eyes, met his eyes. “I was feeling really low and just about ready to completely drop out of the whole art thing when I got that project back in December. And you told me to just go for it, because it’s not like it could get much worse, and I know that doesn’t seem like it was important. And maybe it wasn’t to you. But it made a huge difference.” She stepped towards him. “You don’t have to go. I know it’s not your kind of thing. But I needed you to know that I don’t know if I’d be anywhere near ready for this kind of thing if you hadn’t given me just that little push six months ago.”

“You did all the work,” Jason said, his eyes softer now. “You’re giving me too much credit again.”

“Standing on this side of things, it doesn’t feel that way. Plus, I started three of the pieces on the island, and that wouldn’t have happened without you.” She bit her lip. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk since we got home, but I was thinking—”

“You know, you really need to hire someone out front—” The loud, brash voice cut in and Elizabeth turned around to see Carly strolling around the corner. The blonde stopped short, shoved her sunglasses up onto her head. “What is this, a daycare? What are you doing here?”

“What do you want, Carly?” Jason asked, shoving the rag into his back pocket.

Carly ignored his question, her brown eyes still focused on Elizabeth. “Aren’t you dating my cousin?”

“Your cousin—Lucky?” Elizabeth said. She furrowed her brow. “No. What does that have to do with anything?”

Carly just made a face, fisted her hands at her hips. “Oh, the innocent act. Please, I invented that. What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Bewildered, Elizabeth looked back to Jason who remained silent. “Nothing,” she said finally. She laid the ticket down on the hood of the car. “I have to go anyway.”

Carly darted forward, snatched up the ticket before Jason could grab it. “You’re inviting him to some rinky-dink art show at a college?” She snorted, her eyes sparkling with malevolent glee. “Oh, this is amazing. Is this what passes for flirting these days?” she asked Jason, the ticket fluttering in her hand.  “What an absolute child you are. It’s almost sweet.”

“Knock it off, Carly,” Jason said, but it was too little, too late. And it wasn’t exactly the ringing defense Elizabeth might have wanted.  She wanted to snatch the ticket from the acerbic blonde’s hand but there was no point.

She’d come here with that ticket to see if maybe she’d been insane on the island, and she’d received her answer.

“Come or don’t,” she told Jason, who’d gone back to not looking at her. “I’ll get out of your way now.”

And then she left.

—

The second Jason heard the front door to the garage swing shut, he snatched the ticket from Carly. “What is your problem?” he demanded shoving it in his front pocket.

“Come on, Jase—” She came up behind him, encircled his torso, but he shrugged her off. “I know you’re mad because this is taking too long—”

“I’m mad because you keep showing up here like something is going to change. How many different ways do I have to say no?” he demanded. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she then laughed — that low, chuckle that always made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it? That child. You’re actually thinking about her. What, you embarrassed to be seen with me?” she demanded.

“I’m not doing this with you. Every damn time—” Jason shook his head, headed for the sink to wash his hands.

“Well, you’re not going to have to worry about that one.” Carly lounged against the counter next to him. “Didn’t you see the way she looked before she practically ran out of here? You know, you’re great in bed, but you still know jack shit about men—”

“Go home to your husband,” he said pointedly.

“She looked at you, practically begging you to save her from the big, bad, mean Carly. And what did you do?” She lifted her brows. “I mean, were you trying to run her off?”

No, not like that — “Go home,” he said again. “My life is none of your business.”

“Then again, you could probably reel her back in. Mealy mouthed girls like her are always looking for the hero.” Carly’s fingers danced across his chest. He grabbed her wrist, shoved her back. “She can’t give you what I can.”

“No, she can’t,” Jason said bluntly, and Carly’s lips started to curve in a smile. “That’s not a compliment, Carly. There’s nothing you’ve given me that I want. So for the last time, get out.”

“Fine. Fine. You stick with your little princesses who only want to flirt with the dark side. Eventually  you’re realize I’m the only one you need, and you’ll be back.” She stormed out, the slam of the door harsher this time.

Jason exhaled slowly, then slid his hand in his pocket to draw the ticket back out, looked at it. She’d been so nervous trying to explain why she was here, why she was inviting him. He didn’t understand how something he’d said in passing all those months ago could matter that much, but he respected that she felt like it did.

And he wanted to go, even if he wouldn’t really understand the paintings she’d done. She’d be happy and smiling, the way she used to before Lucky had hurt her. He missed the way her eyes sparkled when she was full of excitement. But if he went there, it would be just for her. And she’d know that. And maybe he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from seeing her again. He’d avoided Kelly’s since they came home, wanting the distance. Needing it, afraid that the way he was starting to feel could be seen on his face.

The last thing Jason — or Elizabeth needed — was people in his life thinking he had someone that mattered. The wrong people.

He slid the ticket under a pile of papers on the desk in his office. He’d made choices a long time ago that limited what he could do, what he could have, and he was going to have to live with that.

—

“Emily,” Elizabeth hissed. “Do you see that blonde coming towards us?”

Her best friend twisted her head. “Yeah. The one with eyes like a shark?”

“Great. You’re looking right at her. Never go into surveillance. You’d be terrible. Yes. That’s Ava Jerome.”

“Jerome? Like Jerome Galleries?” Emily’s eyes widened. “And she’s—” She closed her mouth when the woman in question moved into earshot, her piercing blue eyes taking in the wall behind Elizabeth.

“You’re the artist?” she asked Elizabeth. She held out her hand. “Ava Jerome.”

Elizabeth shook it, hoping her glee was under wraps. “I’ve been in both your Port Charles and New York galleries. Your exhibits are amazing.”

“Yes, I’ve been known to have an eye for talent—” Ava murmured, her attention on the paintings now. “Francesca is an old friend.”

Francesca— “Dr. Watts?” Elizabeth squeezed out.

“Yes. She always send the names of her most promising students to me. She knows I like to be on the ground floor with new talent. These—” Ava lifted her chin. “These are quite good. How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty in November.”

“So nineteen. And yet—” she gestured at the top left painting — the sketch of that night in the park that she’d done in oils. “There’s a depth that seems far more mature. Tragic, almost. The use of the red here—” Her finger moved to another painting — a beach under the moonlight, with just dim figures at the edge of the waterline. “And this one…it could be insipid, or sentimental. But it’s not—there’s a yearning with the shadows and perspective you’ve chosen—” Ava looked at Elizabeth. “Francesca said that you’d held yourself in too much, and she wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to let go. I’m glad she was wrong.”

“I—I’m so…I’m sorry. I’m having trouble forming words, Ms. Jerome. Standing in front of you, and you’re talking about my art. It’s just—it feels like a fever dream,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m sorry. I can’t really wrap my head around it.”

“I’m used to that. When you’ve finished exhibiting these, come to the gallery. We’ll work out a commission contract.” Ava stepped back, held out her business card. “I have some buyers in mind that would be interested.”

“Buyers. You—you want to put my work in your gallery?”

“I know what I like, what sells, and I don’t waste time. Call me, Miss Webber. I think we could make each other a lot of money.”

“Holy shit,” Emily breathed when Ava had walked away. “Holy shit, Elizabeth. You’re going to be in the Jerome Gallery.”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed a fist to her heart, stared down at the business  card in her hand, with Ava’s cell phone number written in blue ink on the back. “I’m not sure this is really happening.”

“Oh, there’s Nikolas. He’s not going to believe this!” Emily danced off to greet their friend. Nikolas was happy for her and so were her grandmother and Juan. Bobbie had bought tickets and she’d been overjoyed.

But all night, Elizabeth kept looking towards the door. She’d known he probably wouldn’t show up, but she’d hoped she’d misunderstood that horrible day in the garage, but when the night started to wind down and there was still no Jason, Elizabeth chided herself for ever thinking she was more than just his little sister’s best friend.

Written in 101 minutes. I went WAY over but I had to finish Spring Break, lol!

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March 2000

He should have just let her go inside because now that he had Elizabeth’s attention, now that she’d turned to face him, looking at him with those questioning eyes, his mouth dried up and he didn’t know what to say. Her hand was in his, and all he could remember now was how it held felt to have her behind him on the bike, pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his torso—it hadn’t felt like that in Port Charles, not with their coats providing extra layers.

She wasn’t dressed in the sweater and jeans that he was used to, but for the hot, humid air of the Caribbean, with tiny shorts that showed off how long her legs were and a tank top that dipped low over her chest with one strap that had already slid off her shoulder. Tendrils of her hair had escaped whatever she’d secured it with on top her head and curled up around her face. And he’d seen the way she’d looked at him before she’d stood up, the flick of her tongue sweeping across her full bottom lip when she’d dragged her eyes up to his face, a slight flush in her cheeks.

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing here, staring at her, hoping for words to come back to him, to remember why he’d grabbed her hand and stopped her from escaping inside. “I’m sorry,” he said, roughly, as if the words had to be forced out. “I handled all of this wrong, especially if you feel like you have to hide out in your room.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not,” he said, cutting her off. “I would hate it if we went home in a few days with you still thinking I give a damn about you slugging some asshole in a bar fight or getting in trouble with the cops. I’d be a hypocrite,” he added, “because I’ve done the same things. I’m glad you protected yourself. I just—” He shook his head, looked down at her hand, still in his. It was soft and paler than his, her nails worn short with red nail polish that had started to chip. “I can’t stand that we live in a world where you’re not safe even walking into a bar on an island Sonny practically controls.” He lifted his gaze to hers again. “I’m angry that you had a single minute of fear. I’m angry at myself, the situation, at men in general. But never you.”

Her lips curved into a slight smile. “It really is okay. I get it — you think you’ve let your sister and me come to this place that your friend basically runs and something bad still happened. Maybe Sonny gets a say in who owns what what or who’s in power, but humans are still humans. Some of them are terrible, but most of them are okay.” She shrugged one shoulder, then looked down at their hands. “It took a while for me to get back to believing that, but I’m not going to let that one guy ruin that for me. People are generally good if you give them a chance to show it.”

“I don’t know about that—”

“Look at you,” she said, and he closed his mouth. “Almost from the moment I came to Port Charles, I’ve heard people say the most awful things about you. Detective Taggert—you know, he was really kind to me when he investigated my case, but I know how he talks to you. About you. But that’s not who you are.”

“They’re not wrong—”

“You’d never hurt me, and that’s all that matters,” she said. She stepped just a little closer. “You can’t stop the world from being what it is. All you can do is find a way to live in it. Last night—that wasn’t my fault. But that doesn’t mean it was yours, either. And ” Her eyes searched his. “I really hope you know that.”

He swallowed hard, but couldn’t look away. He felt another droplet of water fall from his hair, slide down his neck to his chest. Her eyes dropped down, and so did his. And then, with the hand he wasn’t holding, Elizabeth touched him, just with one fingertip, the droplet absorbed by her skin. He exhaled slowly, then, almost as in a trance, with his free hand, he covered hers, flattening it against his chest, a shiver sliding across his skin.

He looked up, and a moment later, her eyes lifted to his. She licked her lips, and he leaned in—

And a light flashed behind them, jerking them apart—Elizabeth backing up almost the terrace, her eyes wide. They stared at each other, almost in horror. Because what the hell had almost happened?

“Hey,” Emily said, stepping onto the terrace. She furrowed her brow. “Were you down at the beach?”

“Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat, crouched down for the towel he’d dropped at some point. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I tried. But I can’t sleep. I thought I’d come out and watch a movie.” Emily hesitated, looked at Elizabeth. “But if you’re, like, talking or sketching or whatever, I can go—”

“No. No, it’s—I got, um, I got what I needed.” Elizabeth grabbed her sketchpad and pencil case. “Let’s go find something to watch.” She followed Emily inside, and Jason lingered on the terrace for another minute, wondering if he should just go throw himself in the ocean.

—

The next morning, Jason was determined to put all of that behind him. He’d cleared the air with Elizabeth, who knew he wasn’t actually angry with her. All the rest of it—it was proximity, he decided. She was a beautiful woman who listened when he talked, and he liked her—but that had to be the end of it. She was just starting out her life with dreams of being an artist. The last thing she needed was her best friend’s older brother dragging her into his world.

He went into the kitchen and brewed some coffee, while tossing together a breakfast for Emily and Elizabeth. His sister came out first, looking restored to her natural health and energy.

“I’m so glad you’re sticking around for the rest of the trip,” Emily told him, accepting the orange juice he handed her. “Liz and I can’t cook anything that doesn’t come out of a box, and you can—” She grinned at him. “You’re really the best of brothers.”

“What do you want?” Jason asked, slightly suspicious. He slid the omelet onto her plate, then leaned back against the counter to sip his coffee. “I know that tone.”

“Why do I have to want something?” Emily pouted, twirled her fork. “Maybe I just appreciate a good sibling. AJ’s not terrible, but you’re always the first person I call, and I shouldn’t take it for granted. Plus, I actually like you as a person,” she told him. “Not just as a family member. That is incredibly rare. Take Liz, for example — she has one of each and they’re both useless.” She beamed at him. “Not my brother.”

“What do you want?” Jason repeated.

“Well, I was thinking that we only have two more days of this trip,” Emily said. “I plan on spending them on the beach, perfecting my tan, you know. But on Saturday night, Liz and I tried to get reservations at that really swanky restaurant we told you about, but I don’t know if the hostess didn’t care that you’re my brother—”

“I’ll take care of it.” He sipped his coffee. “But that’s not what you wanted. Or at least, that’s not all.”

“You know, I’m very lucky to have such a smart brother—”

“Emily.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You know, most people want to be flattered before they hit up for a favor. I just wanted you to know how much I love you and how much I love spending time with you away from all the idiots in Port Charles—”

Jason set down his coffee, getting his first sense of what Emily was going to ask. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish buttering you up. Come on. Come to dinner with us. We haven’t gone out, you and me, in like ages. You remember that one time, like two years ago, I tricked you into having lunch with me and AJ. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It had been before Michael — when Jason and AJ had been on decent terms. He looked away, dragged his hand down his cheek. “You really want me to go?”

“I do. I think you spend too much time on your own, and I’m determined to get you back into the world. Baby steps. Here where no one knows you,” Emily added. “I know you get worried sometimes about who else is watching. But that’s not a problem here, is it?”

“No. No, it’s not. I’ll call and make sure they put your name down,” Jason said, resigned. He really didn’t know how to say no to his little sister. It was starting to be a problem.

“Awesome. Sincerely the best news all day—”

“You’ve only been up for a few hours,” Elizabeth teased, emerging from the hallway leading down to the bedrooms. She studiously avoided his gaze and slid onto the stool next to Emily. “Maybe this news won’t even be top five by noon.”

“No, Jason’s going to get us reservations at that restaurant, and he’s agreed to go dinner, too.” Emily stabbed her fork in her omelet, chewed.

“Oh. That’s great. Um, thanks,” Elizabeth said when Jason held out a glass of juice. She carefully took it, making sure their fingers didn’t touch. Good. She clearly felt the same way he did. “You guys should have a lot of fun. The menu looks great.”

“Hey, doofus, you’re coming, too,” Emily said. “It’s still our vacation—”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way—you were just telling me the other day you wish you got to spend more time with your brother,” Elizabeth said. “Really, it’s not an issue—”

“Oh,  well, yeah, but that doesn’t change if you come. Plus, you and me are basically family,” Emily said. She looked at Jason. “Tell her, Jason.  She’s not getting in our way.”

“I think I’m actually getting in your way,” Jason said, a bit hesitantly. Elizabeth finally looked at him. “Besides, Emily needs someone to talk to other than me all night or I might run screaming in the opposite direction.”

Emily gasped in mock outrage. “I am amazing. How very dare you—”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. But I need to get back to work. The light here is amazing,” Elizabeth said, sliding off the stool, taking her juice and a banana from the bowl. “And I want to get as much as I can before I have to go back to the gray skies of upstate New York.” She disappeared down the hall.

Emily wrinkled her nose. “She works too much. School, Kelly’s, art. I’m glad you came down and at least got her out of the house on the bike. Other than the bar which was not a smashing success, I’ve barely pried her away from those sketchpads. I think she needs to start dating again, what do you think?” she asked Jason.

“I think that’s my cue to go do something else,” he said, picking up his coffee. “Don’t fall asleep on the beach and burn yourself.”

—

“Our reservation is in a half hour,” Jason called down the hallway. “And it takes twenty minutes to get there—”

“Not the way you drive!” his sister’s voice floated down the hallway. “Relax!”

“Ten minutes and I’m leaving with or without you—”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Better not test him,” Elizabeth said, calling over her shoulder as she emerged from the hallway. “I don’t think he’s bluffing.” She turned back to him, smiling. “You should go close the door loud enough for her to hear it in about five minutes.”

Jason shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants, suddenly unsure what to do with them — or maybe afraid of what he would do with them with Elizabeth standing in front of him in a cherry red strapless dress that fell a few inches above her knees. Her skin had darkened a few shades to a pale gold, and her eyes sparkled with mischief when they met his. He really just wanted to brush her hair from her bare shoulders, tuck it behind her ear—and that was why his hands were staying in his pockets.

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason said finally, then he fought the urge to wince when she bit her lip, looked away. Because of course, he’d meant for that to sound like a response to her statement — but it had somehow come out more serious, and he knew he meant it literally. He hoped she didn’t.

“You clean up nice,” Elizabeth said finally, looking back, gesturing at the white button down shirt he wore. “I hope you didn’t have to go to any trouble since you weren’t planning to be here—”

“I always keep some things here. Sonny’s always making me get dressed up,” Jason said, almost as a mutter, and she laughed.

“Well, sorry, but Emily had her heart set on this place, and there was no chance you were getting out of it.” Her eyes softened. “It really is nice that you’re doing this for her. She’s lucky to have a brother who shows up for her.”

“I know you said you don’t talk to yours. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, I’d rather not have someone obligated to like me because we’re family.” Elizabeth scrunched her nose. “That’s all it is with me, Steven, and Sarah. Steven and Sarah don’t even really like each other. I appreciate that we’re honest about what we’re not, you know? No pretending to be the Bradys.” He must have looked confused, because she went on, “You know, having the big holidays like we’re one big happy family. We don’t even send cards now.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay. Family isn’t always the blood one you were born into.” Elizabeth smiled. “Sometimes you get to choose your people. And I got really lucky when Emily and I chose each other. She and Gram, they’re all the family I need right now.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but was mercifully saved when Emily find came out. “It’s about time,” he said.

“Relax, I still had two minutes of my ten.” Emily wrapped her arms through one of his. “How’s my favorite, most handsome big brother?”

“I’m already dressed and going, so you don’t have to keep this up,” Jason said dryly. He grabbed his keys from the table. “Let’s go.”

—

It was almost back to normal, Elizabeth thought with some relief. She and Jason were able to talk, and neither one of them had brought up that strange moment on the terrace. She couldn’t explain what the hell she’d been thinking, and she was sure that Jason was probably as mystified as she was.

No, it was so much better this way, she thought, sipping her margarita, and smiling across the table at Emily teasing her brother again. Back in the realm of friendship, where it was safe. If she’d done something insane like kiss her best friend’s brother, it would have been…insane. Stupid. Reckless. And what if she’d been misreading all of this, and he just looked at her with pity—

No, no, better not to believe her rusty to the point of nonexistent skills at reading men. Better to wonder and not know for sure, when the answer was almost definitely no.

“Liz? Earth to Liz—” Emily waved her hand in front of Elizabeth’s face and she blinked.

“What, sorry, did you say something?” She forced a smile. “I was distracted by the view—of the water,” she added hastily when Jason—seated directly across from her—just looked at her. “What did you ask?”

“I asked how your work for the show was coming along since you’ve been drawing the whole time,” Emily said. She picked up her own drink. “Jason, you know about this, right? Elizabeth is one of like five artists in the entire program to have an exhibit at the campus showcase in like two months.”

“I knew you’d been picked, but you didn’t say it was only five other people. That’s great,” Jason said.

“It’s amazing,” Emily said before Elizabeth could say anything. “She’ll tell you it was just luck, but I know it wasn’t. I saw the piece she won with, so I can’t wait to see it expanded. You said you’re doing it in oil?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah. That’s going to be one of the four pieces I’m doing. It’s already done. I have to do three more. I think I have some ideas what they’re going to be, but I won’t know until I get back to Port Charles and book some time in the art studio. I wish I had a place of my own,” she admitted with a sigh. “But for right now, this will be good enough.”

“She’s amazing, really,” Emily told Jason. “The sketch she won with, it just messes you up. Sorry, should I talk about that?” she asked Elizabeth hesitantly. “I don’t know if Jason knows what you did—”

“He knows the topic,” Elizabeth said, twisting her glass back and forth, looking at Jason for a moment before looking back at her best friend. “I told you. Jason’s the one that gave me the encouragement to sketch it.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’re like her muse,” Emily said.

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed because well, Jason had sort of been her muse over the last few days, but — “No, I wouldn’t go that far, um, it’s just—he said something that made me think about how I was approaching all of my projects, and I switched things up. And I can honestly—I feel the difference. Even now. So—”

“I don’t deserve any credit. Really. You’re the one doing the work,” Jason told her. He held his beer in his hand — he’d been nursing just the one all throughout dinner since he was driving. “I’m glad the trip’s helped.”

“I can’t wait to see what you get from her. It sucks you can’t really see her art,” Emily told her brother, and Jason dropped his gaze, looking down at the table cloth. “Because it just hits you, you know, but you said with the accident, art’s not really something you understand.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason shifted in his seat, but kept his eyes down, and Elizabeth realized he was embarrassed, like he had been after that scene at the bar.

“Art’s for everyone, you know? It doesn’t matter what people see or don’t see, what they understand or don’t. It’s just about the way you feel when you look at it.” Elizabeth paused. “And sometimes you don’t feel anything. Like, we went to the modern art museum in New York last year, and can I just tell you how much I don’t understand half of that? There was a bathroom mirror on one of the walls — you know the ones that look like medicine cabinets? That was supposed to be an art piece.”

Jason looked up at her, squinted. “A bathroom mirror?” he repeated.

“Right? Some sort of comment on the intersection of capitalism and beauty standards. Whatever. I got weird looks when I checked my teeth for pieces of the salad I’d had for lunch.”

Emily laughed, picked up her margarita. “Oh, yeah, for sure. And sometimes it all looks like scribbles, and you’ve got people standing in front of this drawing a first-grader could do, nodding sagely like they get it. That’s why I like your stuff, Liz. I don’t have to be, like, insane to get it. Anyway, it’s going to be a great night and I’m so insanely proud of you. Maybe I should throw you a party—”

“No, please don’t,” Elizabeth said, but Emily was already off and running. Jason met Elizabeth’s eyes across the table with a flash of gratitude for having diverted his sister’s conversation from talking about his accident.

—

It was late when they got back to the house, and knowing they’d have to leave early in the morning, Elizabeth went straight to her room, making sure she’d packed everything. But she felt restless and not tired at all. She padded down the dark hallway to the terrace, hoping a walk on the beach would help settle her down.

And it looked like she wasn’t the only one with that thought — she ran into Jason, his feet bare, and the bottom of his pants rolled up. He’d tugged the shirt out of the pants and unbuttoned the top few buttons.

She stopped at the terrace entrance, bit her lip. “Oh, are you just coming back in?”

“No, I was going to take a walk.” Jason hesitated and their eyes met across the terrace, both remembering the last time they’d been here. Or maybe he was wondering why his sister’s roommate was looking at him like she’d jump him at the first opportunity.

Determined to keep things back to normal and to prove things hadn’t really changed, Elizabeth took a deep breath. “So was I. Unless you want to be alone…because I could wait.”

—

Say yes. Say yes. She’d given him an out, just like she’d done at dinner earlier, and he needed to take it. Say yes.

But Jason didn’t. “No, no, that’s fine. We could—we could go together.”

She smiled hesitantly, kicked off her sandals and crossed the terrace. Wordlessly, they walked down the short distance to the water until they were just at the edge, waves washing across their feet as they started to walk along the waterline.

The silence continued for a few more minutes, just the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the only light from the moon and the house nearby.

Finally, Elizabeth spoke. “I’m really glad I stopped arguing with Emily and came down here. I know she thinks all I’ve done is work down here, but I’ve, um, really been able to relax. It’s…restful here, you know?”

“Yeah.” He looked straight ahead, keeping his unruly hands in his pockets. Their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked over the uneven sand. “I wish I came down more.”

“Why don’t you?”

Her question was soft, nearly lost in the dull roar of the ocean, and he could have pretended not to hear it. But he had, so he answered. “I brought Michael here. He…really liked the water.”

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. She was quiet for a beat, then said, “I can’t really imagine what it would be like to have that kind of love in your life and lose it. I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to accept the pity. “I have no right to complain. I told Carly I’d step in as his father. I did this to myself.”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth stopped, and he walked another few steps before realizing it. He turned to face her, her expression mostly in shadows. “You didn’t know the scope of what you were agreeing to. You couldn’t see the future. Had you ever been a dad before?”

Jason grimaced, then sighed. “No.  I didn’t.” And he hadn’t thought much of fatherhood at all, thinking that all a father was good for was being disappointed that you hadn’t lived up to the person they wanted you to be. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know you could love like that,” he admitted finally. He looked past her, at the house. “Without boundaries. Willing to sacrifice anything to keep him, turning yourself inside out until you didn’t even know who you were anymore.”

“Exactly,” she said, then started to walk again. He fell into step next to her. “So you get to be sad about what you lost.”

“Maybe. But—I made the right decision,” he said with a sigh. “To stop the visits. I was never going to be his father again. Staying involved — the way I was — it was only going to confuse him. It would never be enough for me. And it just made me angry. I don’t like being angry,” he muttered. “I don’t like when people see me that way.”

“Like the other day at the bar,” she said softly, and he nodded. He stopped, and they were facing each other again. “Why? Do you think you’re not allowed to have feelings?”

“No, no, it’s just—” He hesitated, considered how to put it into words. “I used to be like that after the accident. Angry, all the time. I’d lash out at anyone and everyone. At my grandmother, Emily. They didn’t deserve that, but I couldn’t stop it. I worked hard to stop being that way. To be in control.” He looked down at her, and she was looking at him. “I don’t want anyone to see me that way. Not Michael. Not you.”

“I thought we settled all of that,” Elizabeth said. “You’re not mad at me, and I’m not mad at you, remember?” she said, then dipped her head down, looked out over the water, because he did, indeed, remember when they’d settled it, and she’d touched him. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Good,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “Because you’re not perfect and neither am I.” She fell silent, and he followed her gaze as the moon rose high over the water, the reflection flickering across the horizon, but the rest of the world inky dark. “It’s really beautiful here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jason looked at her as she continued to look at the moon, and wished he were anyone else, someone more deserving. “Yeah, it is.”

Written in 64 minutes.

---

March 2000

It had seemed like such an excellent idea back at the house. She’d set everything to rights by  heading back into town, finding the owner of the bar, and offering to pay for any damages. She’d started the fight, and this was her responsibility. And maybe if Jason saw her taking accountability for it, he wouldn’t be so angry about it.

And that idea had continued to seem perfectly reasonable right until Elizabeth stepped inside and saw Jason with a man shoved against a wall—the man from the night before.

“Didn’t know she was yours—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jason bit out, his voice like ice, his expression stone. “You gonna go keep putting your hands on women who tell you no?”

“Sorry, sorry, tell her I’m sorry—no disrespect—”

Jason let him fall to the ground in a heap. “Put your hands on another woman and you’ll wish I’d finished the job today.”

The man scrambled past Jason, then stopped dead when he saw her. He whirled back to look Jason, then back at her. “Lo siento! De acuerdo? Sorry! Tell your man I won’t touch!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but he darted past her. She half-turned to follow his escape out the door, struggling to process the last few minutes. What was Jason doing here—and what had that guy been babbling about? Had Jason threatened him because…because of her?

The thought was almost too fantastical, and Elizabeth turned back to find Jason had closed the distance between them—and still looked furious. “Why are you here?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, trying to recall. “Oh, I came to—I wanted to make up for what happened last night. So I thought maybe I could find out if there were damages, and I could pay for it—”

“You wanted to pay for damages.” As Jason repeated those words, there was a vein in his forehead that seemed to bulge. He pressed his lips together, nodded, then looked over at the man behind the bar. “Manuel, any thing you want to say to her?”

“No. No. No damages. In fact, please, if the young lady would accept our apologies for all this business. Have a great day. Come back again—or not,” the man said when Jason shot him a dirty look.

“Okay, did I miss something?” Elizabeth asked, but Jason had already strode past her to the door. Yep. Definitely missed something. She hurried after him, taking two steps for every one of his long strides. When they reached the sidewalk, she called after him. “Are you still mad at me? I was trying—”

“I told you I’m not—” Jason just shook his head, saw the car at the curb, then sighed. He held out his hand. “Keys.”

“Okay, but at some point you’re going to tell me what I did wrong, right?” She dropped the keys in his hand.

He ignored her, looked back at the bar where the owner had followed them out. “Manuel, call up to the resort. Get someone to drive this back to my place.” He tossed the keys, and the man grabbed them.

“My driving privileges are revoked? Really? This is getting ridiculous—”

“You think I’m going to let you wander around when Dario Colon just got humiliated in front of his friends?” Jason demanded. “You showed up and made it worse. And assholes like him like to take it out on people weaker than them.”

“Well, I didn’t know he’d be here—” Elizabeth grumbled, following him to the motorcycle parked around the corner. He jerked the helmet off the back, held it out. “And you didn’t tell me you were doing any of this—”

“Let’s just get out of here.” Jason climbed on the bike, and waited for her to get on behind him. She pursed her lips, hesitating an extra minute wondering why it seemed so different today when it hadn’t been a big deal just a month ago. Just climb on, slide right up against him, and put your hands on his chest to hold on. No problem.

 

Elizabeth didn’t want to make it worse, so she got on the bike, her fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around his torso. In the Caribbean, there was no thick leather jacket — just the short-sleeved white t-shirt he wore separating her fingers from the warmth of his skin—

Don’t think about it. Just stop thinking about it. Go back to not thinking about it at all.

But this was a hell of a time to finally understand why people took cold showers.

—

He was an idiot. An impulsive moron who had been running mostly on adrenaline since leaving the house earlier that afternoon, and he didn’t really know how to dig himself out of the hole he’d created.

A few minutes into the ride, Jason realized if he took the direct way home, he’d have to face Elizabeth all over again with those wide eyes looking at him like he was a stranger. She’d seen him nearly choke a man to death, and then he’d all but shoved her on this bike behind him, forcing her to come back with him.

He’d just—he’d thought of that little punk coming across her and taking his humiliation out on Elizabeth. She wasn’t safe in Pirate’s Well, and getting her back to the house was all he could focus on.

But then she’d hesitated to get on the bike and her grip hadn’t been as tight as it should have been. He took the turns a little more slowly — and decided to take an another way home. The long way, past an outcropping of rocks that jutted out into the Caribbean. Maybe by the time they got there, he’d know what to say to her. How to apologize.

He pulled off the road onto the dirt shoulder, switched off the engine. He felt the bike rock as Elizabeth swung her leg off the bike. She removed the helmet, propped it on her waist, then squinted as she looked at the ocean crashing against the rocks.

“Um, am I getting thrown overboard?” she asked, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. “Because this isn’t the house.”

“No. No. I wanted to talk to you without Emily around. Look—” He switched off the bike and climbed off, turning to face her. The uncertainty in her eyes stung and he clenched his jaw. He was just such an idiot, and maybe he was the one that needed to go overboard.

“No, okay, you look. I don’t know what crawled up your butt and died, but I didn’t do anything wrong, okay? I mean, okay, yeah, I threw the first punch, but he grabbed me and I panicked, and I’m not okay with you acting like I’m the bad guy—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jason interrupted and she pressed her lips together, her expression still mutinous. “Not…not for anything you did last night. I’m just…I’m angry because you were there today.”

“I told you—”

“For seeing that.”

Elizabeth closed her mouth, her brows pinched together. “Seeing what?” She set the helmet back on the bike. “I don’t understand.”

“With…that guy. I—” Jason shook his head, looked out over the ocean, wishing now he was one of the waves washing over the rocks so that he could sink to the bottom of the sea. “That’s all.”

“Because you had him against the wall?” she asked hesitantly. “That’s—that’s what this was all about—I don’t understand. You were mad at me last night, too. And this morning—”

“No, I wasn’t. Not at you. At all of this, and then—at the bar—”

“You’re mad because I saw you choke a guy against the wall?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “What does that even mean? You’ve threatened to throw Lucky in the lake at least five times, and three of them, you were definitely not kidding.”

Jason opened his mouth, looked at her with a frown. “What?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, shifted her weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry. Were you under the assumption that I didn’t know who you were? You’re Jason Morgan. You work for Sonny Corinthos. And for a little while, you were Sonny, or you did whatever he does.” She stepped towards him, and he just stared at her. “Jason, the first time I ever saw you was at a wedding where I literally was searched by armed guards because I’d stolen an invitation. Nikolas got shot because he was in the same parking lot as you. It’s actually a little insulting,” she muttered, and he blinked at that. “You think I’m idiot, don’t you? Like a guy gets a private villa and basically owns an island as a garage mechanic—”

“I—I hadn’t thought about it—”

“This is absolutely ridiculous. You’re mad at me for starting the fight, but you go and start a new fight, and somehow I’m still the one in trouble? I’m started to get pissed off,” she muttered.

Jason dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling in a rush. “You just—you looked at me like you didn’t know me—”

“I looked at you like what the hell is he doing here, that’s all. And you know, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble. You got the charges dropped, so—”

“Yeah, I paid a visit there first,” Jason cut in, and she stopped short at that. “He needed an attitude adjustment. I sent you here—and my sister,” he added quickly, “and you were supposed to be safe. My name was supposed to make it that way. But it didn’t, and you got hurt. It could have been worse.”

“It has been worse,” she said softly. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, but just—look, you’re not responsible for me, okay? I don’t want anyone to ever feel that way again. I’m not someone you have to rescue. Maybe you’ve gotten used to that over the last few months—”

“I’ve never rescued you from anything,” Jason interrupted. “I gave you a couple of rides—”

“People don’t have to be in literal danger to need a rescue,” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his. “Maybe you didn’t see them as rescues, but I did. You were there when I needed someone. But that doesn’t make me your responsibility. I’m my own person, and before last night, I’m not sure I ever thought about myself as someone who could rescue herself. So last night? That’s not on you.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree there,” he said, and she offered him a half-smile. “I’m sorry. For losing my temper, for dragging you here—”

“No, you had a point about that guy maybe still hanging around. But it’s really fine. I know how protective you are of your sister, and it could have been her last night.”

He opened his mouth to protest that Emily wasn’t the reason he was angry, but then he closed it. Because Emily should have been the reason. She’d been at the bar, at the police station — all of that had included her, but Jason had never for one minute been worried about her once he’d seen her unharmed in the station.

It had been Elizabeth with the bruise on her face, and the cut on her bottom lip that had inspired the rage, and he didn’t know exactly when her well-being had become important to him or how he felt about that development.

“Let’s just go,” Jason said, handing over the helmet.

—

Emily was waiting when they got back to the house, standing on the front terrace. “I woke up from my nap, and you were both gone,” she complained. “No note, no call. And then some guy brings back the car, like, dude, what the hell?”

Elizabeth tossed Jason the helmet and darted up the steps to see her friend. “Oh, I ran into town, and Jason was there. And you know I’m addicted to the speed, I couldn’t help myself.”

Her best friend pursed her lip, then nodded. “All right—but—”

“I have so much work to do,” Elizabeth interrupted, dashing past her and into the house.

Jason climbed the steps. “Hey. I have a few things to deal with here, so I’ll stay until Sunday.”

“Oh, good.” Emily wound her arm through his. “I promise I’m not going to be getting in trouble every year like this—”

“Don’t apologize. You and Elizabeth had every right to go out and have fun. It’s the world that’s terrible.” Jason squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it anymore.” He wanted to put the whole situation out of his head, too, and go back to how everything had been just twenty-four hours earlier.

—

Dinner was quiet — Emily was still a little pale from the long night. She’d drank more than Elizabeth, and hadn’t eaten enough, she’d told Jason. She turned in early, and Elizabeth scurried away to sketch in her room, not wanting to be alone with Jason just yet.

She needed to take some time, to think about everything that had happened today—what had happened last night. The strange moment of electricity, and all the weird and flustery feelings she’d had today—

And if she could just stop recalling how Jason’s hand had felt on her mouth, or the way his chest felt on that ride home—

After a few hours, when the house seemed quiet, and she was sure Jason had gone to bed, too. Elizabeth crept back outside, wanting to sit out on the terrace by the living room which had a better view of the moonlight over the water. She curled up in one of the seats, pulled out the sketchbook, and worked by the dim light from inside the house.

She heard him a half second before he appeared out of the dark, his feet padding against the sand. Then Jason stepped into the light of the terrace, little more than the lamp from the living room just inside. His hair was dripping…and Elizabeth’s gaze followed those little droplets of water as they dipped inside his collarbone, then slid off one pectoral—

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, his voice jarring her out of her trance, and she flushed, looked down at her things, started to shove them back in the back. “I thought you were both in bed.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s me, really, you know, I have the terrace in my room, but I like this view—I mean—the moon—” Elizabeth jerked to her feet, wanting to disappear into the sand. She licked her lips nervously. “I wanted to get out of my room, and I thought you’d gone to bed.”

He hesitated. “Why—why did you need to wait until I’d gone to sleep?” he asked, squinting in confusion.

Elizabeth did not want to answer that, and decided the best way to end all of this was to turn it back on him. “Well, why did you wait until we were in our rooms before you went down to the beach?” she demanded, trying very hard not to look at another drop of water as it followed the earlier one, slowly rolling down to his—oh, so that’s what a six-pack looked like in real life—

She jerked her eyes away before it was absorbed by the swim trunks he wore, because if her brain went there, she’d never recover her sanity. “I’m going inside—”

She turned, but he reached out, his hand brushing down her forearm until it reached her hand. “Wait.”

Written in 57 minutes.

---

March 2000

 

“What did we learn?”

Emily, hunched over the counter, her head pillowed on her hands, groaned. “Don’t talk. The sun hurts.”

“Those two things aren’t related.” Jason set out a cup of black coffee and tapped the top of her black sunglasses. “And if you need to wear these inside, you drank too much.”

“You used to start bar fights all the time,” his sister grumbled. She sighed, then straightened and wrinkled her nose. “No cream? No sugar? Am I in prison?”

“No. You need the shock to the system.” Jason went back to the coffee pot. “Drink.”

“Ugh.” She forced down the first sip. “Sorry if we messed up whatever you were doing over in Puerto Rico.”

“It’s fine.” He sipped his own coffee, accustomed to the bitter taste. “I’ve got something to take care of here, but I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow and be back on Sunday—”

“No, no. I mean, if you have to go back, that’s cool, and all, but you don’t have to, like, rush away. Unless you can’t wait to be rid of us. I mean, I’m barely useful, and I think—” Emily twisted on her stool, wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I should go check on Liz. She wasn’t as drunk as I was, but I didn’t see her when I got back. Was she okay when she went to bed?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed, remembering that strange moment on the sofa the night before when he’d touched Elizabeth’s face to check her injury more closely, and somehow—

He cleared his throat. “She was fine. You know, if you’d told Marco what happened — the whole story—then maybe he wouldn’t have called me—”

Emily’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean? We totally told him everything from beginning to end. He sat down with us, Jase, okay? And he was really pushy. Like I don’t know if he thought he was being charming or whatever, but it was definitely uncomfortable. Liz tried to be nice, but he wouldn’t go away. We got up, and he grabbed her—then—” Emily jerked a shoulder. “I don’t know. He said something I didn’t hear but he had her arm—”

“He put his hands on her — Elizabeth had every right to defend herself. If Marco knew that—”

“He did,” Emily insisted hotly. “Okay? We told him. Liz showed him her arm—”

“What about her arm?”

“She had red marks and I bet it’s bruised today. But that asshole just kept saying maybe if we weren’t—” Emily pressed her lips together. “Never mind. He’s your friend and he’s a guy, so you’ll just defend him. I thought you’d be different—”

“Whoa, whoa—” Jason caught his sister before she could indignantly flounce away. “What do you mean you told him? If he knew—”

“He made it like it was our fault. Like we made the first move by sitting down, and Liz apparently wore a tube top, so she was asking for it. Maybe we should dress the way we want to be treated,” Emily bit out. “I tried to tell him you were my brother, but he didn’t seem to think that mattered. Said Liz should think twice before she goes into a bar and asks for attention.”

Jason went still. “Tell me everything he said. From the beginning.”

—

She was being ridiculous, that was all there was to it.

Elizabeth rifled through what remained of her clothing options, wishing she’d brought a sweater. Maybe she could wrap a sheet around her—

“You’re being an idiot,” she told herself in the mirror, and yanked out the bikini and a pair of cut off jeans, the same basic outfit she’d worn every day to go down to the beach. Just because Jason was here now, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a bikini top, not a bra—and it covered the same amount of skin that her top last night had—

But it was weird and different and unsettling because well — She tied the top and wrinkled her nose in the mirror. Did it draw attention to her breasts? Did Jason think that’s why she’d wear it? Would he think she was prancing around half-naked because of last night?

Last night. Nothing happened. Except he’d touched her mouth and she’d looked at him, and all of a sudden, he wasn’t Jason but he was Jason—

“An idiot. That’s you,” she told her reflection, then yanked her tote bag with the art supplies. Go down the hall, grab some water and fruit and go to the beach. Jason probably wasn’t even here anymore—

But there he was — in the kitchen area standing behind the counter, glaring at Emily. When she came out of the hallway, he swept his gaze over hers — and the irritation only sharpened. “Why didn’t you tell me you told Marco about that guy grabbing you?”

Oh, damn, he’d gone back to being irritated. Maybe he’d been dragged away from something important, Elizabeth thought. She twisted her fingers together as she approached, licked her lips nervously. “Listen, this isn’t a big deal, okay? The charges are dropped. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I’m saying. It sucked, and we won’t go back,” Emily said, looking back and forth between them. “Let’s talk about something better. Liz, tell Jason he’s not raining on our parade if he hangs out here for the rest of the vacation. We already had the nude orgies,” she told her brother who just stared at her. “Oookay, not ready for the jokes. Liz, he listens to you—”

“Not right now,” Elizabeth muttered, and his mouth pinched. “Um, it’s your place, right? So do whatever you want.” She finally gathered the courage to lift her gaze to his, and when their eyes met, all she could bring to mind was how the rough skin of his thumb had felt against her mouth, and now she felt hot all over. “I gotta go.”

She hoisted the tote over her shoulder and made a beeline for the terrace doors opening out onto the beach.

Jason stared after her, exhaled in a slow exhale. So much for pretending that little moment hadn’t happened or hoping he’d been the only one to experience the temporary insanity, he thought. Her tongue had darted out, and he’d dropped his eyes right to it — and then she’d looked at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking—

He looked back at Emily who was staring after her friend with curious eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but you and Elizabeth just go on like I’m not here. I can make myself busy up at the resort if I need to.”

“Aye aye—” Emily saluted, then slid off the stool. “I’m gonna go make sure Liz is okay. Maybe last night shook her up more than she’s admitting.”

“Yeah, maybe.” And remembering how she’d looked on Valentine’s Day, her shattered eyes when she recounted why Lucky’s choose of day was particularly awful, Jason wanted to punch something.

Or someone.

—

Elizabeth sank into the beach chair beneath the umbrella, then dug through her bag for her sketchpad and pencil. She switched to a clean page and just started to draw, wondering if she could ever really illustrate how weird it felt — the strange pull in her stomach when she and Jason had looked at each other the night before — or just now in the kitchen. The tingling all over, inside and out.

This was a hell of a way to find out that her ability to be attracted to someone hadn’t died with the end of her relationship with Lucky — or that the something she’d hinted to Emily had been missing with Lucky was sexual attraction—

“You know, you don’t have to get all weird about it.”

Elizabeth looked up, her eyes wide. Emily dropped into the chair next to her. “What? What?”

“Jason. He doesn’t even know, so you can relax.”

How—how did Emily— Elizabeth gripped her pencil more tightly. “Know what?”

“What we were talking about before that guy went all Rambo last night.” Emily squirted some lotion on her arms, began to work it into her skin. “You know when we were talking about dating, and I was teasing you about Jason. He doesn’t know, so you don’t have to be weird about it.”

“Oh. Oh. No, I know—” She cleared her throat. “I know that. It’s just—I forgot about it until I saw him this morning, and it just—it’s fine. I know. I feel bad that everything got out of control last night.”

“You didn’t do anything—”

“I could have de-escalated it another way. I didn’t have to hit him. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked out over the sparkling waters of the Caribbean. “I didn’t. I chose to hit him, and then your brother had to come to my rescue. Again. I’m tired of it—”

“Well, it’s not your fault.” Emily leaned back, stretched out her limbs. “Jason handled it, and he said don’t worry. So take his advice.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She stared down at the sketch pad, rudimentary shapes beginning to take form — “But I just know there has to be a way for me to fix it. I’m not some damsel in distress.”

She shoved her things back in her bag. “I’m going to take care of a few things. I’ll be back later.”

—

Shoving Marco against the wall hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as Jason had hoped it would be — not when the police deputy’s sputtering apologies only infuriated him more. Sure — Emily and Elizabeth might get better treatment if they ran into trouble again, but they should have been treated right from the beginning—

Even making a few phone calls and getting the asshole replaced wouldn’t take off the edge of Jason’s temper. Marco hadn’t helped things — but he also hadn’t been the one to start it, and that was where Jason’s real fury was rooted.

He learned from the overly apologetic deputy that the bastard in question frequented that bar on a daily basis, and could often be found there during the day playing poker. Leaving Marco relieved and in relatively one piece, Jason headed over a few streets to the Pirate’s Den.

It looked even seedier in the daylight — Jason had tossed back a few a time or two and found that the atmosphere wasn’t that different from Jake’s. He stepped inside, went to the bar. “Manuel—”

“Jason Morgan.” The owner of the bar grinned and came down to his end. “I didn’t know you were around. You want your usual—”

“Not here for a drink. I want Dario Colon. Which one is he?”

Manuel hesitated. “You know, he’s got connections—”

“Connections that Sonny made. He put Armando in office, he’ll take him out. Your bar fight last night. You know who those women were, don’t you?” Jason demanded.

The owner looked uneasy now. “I wasn’t here, but my cousin said two Americans girls came in, half drunk, making passes. Dario just tried to take them up on the offer—but they weren’t just any girls, were they?” he asked with an air of resignation. He dragged his hand down his face. “One of them punched Dario. He wouldn’t have liked that. Is she related to you?”

“My sister and her best friend,” Jason said, flatly. “The woman he grabbed and wouldn’t let go?”

“Your sister? Oh, damn it. Damn it—that fool—”

“Does she need to be my sister for it to matter, Manuel? Sonny paid off those debts for you. Made it so you could get this place. You said you’d owe him. You repay Sonny by letting men grab women in your place?” Jason cut in. “I make a call, and you’re out on your ass. So you want to make good, you’ll tell me which one of these bastards is Dario, and I’ll consider it settled.”

“Dario’s the one in the blue—” Manuel gestured towards the other side of the room. “Listen, I know you’ve got to protect your womenfolk, Jason. But my cousin said they were dressed for trouble—maybe they should—”

“You should stop talking before I change my mind about telling Sonny.” Jason’s hands curled into fists at his side. How many men were going to blame Elizabeth for what she’d been wearing?

He turned, found the man in blue around a poker table, laughing. There was a glass of liquor at his side. Jason considered the other men, but discarded them as real concerns. He strode across the bar, grabbed Dario by the throat and dragged him out of the chair, all the way back to the nearby wall.

“Hey, what, mamabicho, what are you doing?” the man demanded, kicking at the air. His face began to flush. “Who are you—”

“Jason Morgan.”

He saw the flicker of recognition in Dario’s eyes and the mutters from the men behind him. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything to you—”

“Think again. You go around grabbing women all the time?”

“She came on to—” The words were choked off when Jason tightened his fingers on Dario’s throat. “Didn’t know she was yours—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jason bit out, almost enjoying the deep flush crawling up the man’s cheeks. “You gonna go keep putting your hands on women who tell you no?”

“Sorry, sorry, tell her I’m sorry—no disrespect—”

Jason let him fall to the ground in a heap. “Put your hands on another woman and you’ll wish I’d finished the job today.”

Dario scrambled to his feet and darted past Jason, only to stop short when he saw someone standing in the entrance to the bar.

Jason froze when he realized it was Elizabeth standing there, staring at him with wide eyes like she’d never seen him before.

Damn it.