"I thought we agreed to stay friends?" Jess asked.
Rory looked up at him, knocked back by the ominous expression on his face. "We did, but..."
"But what? Isn't that enough for you?"
Rory's heart thudded out of her chest. She hadn't known what to expect when she'd made her grand speech, hadn't even planned to say anything until the words started spilling out of her mouth, but she'd hoped for a different reaction. Perhaps a little more smile and a little less grimace. Regardless, she had just given a speech about being a fighter and couldn't very well back down now. Time to walk the walk. "No, that's not enough for me," she said.
"Well, you don't have much of a choice."
Rory squared her shoulders and nodded, fighting the urge to avert her eyes. "I do. And I'm choosing you."
He stood stock still, acting as if her words didn't affect him, but his flaring nostrils gave him away. "Rory..."
She waited for him to declare he was done, that it was all too complicated, but he didn't say anything at all. Hope buoyed her, filled her lungs with air. "Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?"
His eyebrows drew together, his dark eyes flying over her face. He didn't speak for what seemed like hours until, finally, "What time?"
She let out a breath. "I'll let you know. I'm not the kind of girl who lives by a schedule," she said with a grin.
He was still for a moment, then the corner of his mouth tugged up. "Guess I'll sit at home on a Saturday night and wait for your call then."
"Do that," she said and turned to leave. She took two steps, changed her mind, and whirled back around. "Six thirty," she added then left.
"Did something good happen or is this pregnancy glow?" Lorelai asked as mother and daughter walked to the diner that sunny Saturday morning. "Wait, don't tell me. You had a really good Alexander Skarsgard dream, right? The one where he's wet and shirtless in the jungle, with the V prominently showing?"
"No, but now I wish I had," Rory said.
"Don't underestimate the V. Many men have carved their careers out of that area of the body. Ryan Reynolds, Joe Manganiello, Chris Hemsworth, Channing Tatum. The power of a chiseled hip is infinite."
Rory laughed. "There was no V involved," she replied. "I just got the call from my realtor. My offer was accepted."
Lorelai stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her mouth dropping open. "Honey, that's amazing. Congratulations! That's way better than a V."
"Yeah, I can't believe it. I'm going to be a homeowner." She shook her head, still a little shaken by the news. It was all becoming so real—the house, the baby, the growing up.
"It'll be great," her mother said, squeezing her hand. "Luke and I will help."
"Thank you, but please don't feel like you have to." Rory turned, realizing they were standing in front of the diner. Through the window she could see Jess walking around, setting plates in front of customers. "Hey, where's Luke?" Rory asked her mother.
"Jess sent him home," Lorelai said.
Rory watched as Jess maneuvered around tables with practiced efficiency. "Why?"
"We don't know. Jess just came downstairs this morning and said he was giving Luke the morning off to relax."
"Huh." A smile grew on Rory's face as Jess wrote down an order and stuck the pad of paper in his back pocket. "So what's Luke doing right now?"
"I'll tell you what he's not doing. He's not relaxing like he's supposed to," Lorelai said, her phone held up to her ear. "He's left me several messages since we left the house, asking me for a list of things to repair. The man has gone cuckoo-bananas."
"He's obviously never heard of Saturday, the holy day of pre-rest. Not a religious man, that Luke," Rory said in mock-commiseration.
Lorelai checked her phone again, shaking her head. "Well, he's resorted to putting up Christmas lights. That should keep him busy for several hours."
"I never took Luke as a Christmas decorations kind of guy."
"That's because he's not. He must be desperate. Maybe I should go home and break something for him to fix."
Rory threaded her arm through her mother's, dragging her away. "No, come on. It's chocolate pie day at Weston's. And you know how I get about chocolate pie." Rory took one last look through the window, at the dark-haired man who had his back turned. At the same moment, Jess glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. She lifted her hand in greeting; he tucked a pen behind his ear and flashed her a crooked grin.
"What was that about?" Lorelai asked as they sauntered off.
"Nothing."
"Nothing nothing or nothing something?"
"That has yet to be determined," Rory said even as she tried to keep the excited smile off her face. And failed. "Guess I'll find out after tonight."
That night, Rory arrived at Jess' door ten minutes before the agreed time. She looked down at her outfit, smoothing down the front of her shirt, before knocking on the door. Taking note of the darkness inside, she waited an entire minute before knocking again. But like before, there was no answer. The door, too, was locked.
Thoroughly confused, she headed back down the stairs. Her phone buzzed just as she'd reached the bottom step.
Where are you? said Jess' text.
Where are you? Rory typed back as she continued out the diner.
Here at your place.
She chuckled, making her way down the dark sidewalk towards her mother's house. I was waiting for you at yours.
"Guess we should just meet in the middle."
She looked up and found Jess walking towards her, a half-grin on his face. "I guess so." She tucked her phone away and smiled up at him, her skin tingling in anticipation.
"Hi," he said on a breath.
"Hi."
His eyes flicked down to her outfit, catching on what was under her jacket. "Nice shirt."
"Oh, this old thing?" she asked, looking down at the black The Distillers t-shirt that Jess had bought her at a concert all those years ago. "I haven't worn it in forever. It's a little more snug than it used to be."
"It looks great," he said, shooting her one last appreciative look. "So where to?"
"Come with me." She held out her hand and waited, holding her breath until the moment he slid his warm hand in hers. Then, side by side, she led him to the town square, up the path, and into the gazebo. They stood in the center, lights twinkling around them and casting a soft glow all around.
"You did this?" he asked, shadows playing on his face.
"Not exactly. They were from the wedding but Taylor decided to keep the lights up until after Christmas." She walked over to one of the benches and sat beside the basket she'd stashed there earlier. She laughed when his face registered horror, no doubt remembering the time he'd bought her basket and found nothing edible inside. "Don't worry. I didn't cook it," she added.
He sat down on the other side of the bench, eyes still on her. "You feeling sentimental tonight, Gilmore?" he asked as she handed him a plastic container and fork.
"A little," she said with a sheepish smile. She filled her mouth with a big bite of pasta to keep from saying more and giving away her hand.
"Well, this tastes much better than whatever it was you fed me back then," he said, his cheek bulging with food. "What was that anyway? I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth for a week."
"I don't remember. It was just a blended mix of leftovers from the fridge. Oh, and couscous," she said. "I was impressed you didn't die from that."
"Thank the gods for an iron stomach," he said with a chuckle.
Then they sat in silence for a while, both looking out over the town, mired in their thoughts.
After they finished their food, Rory turned to Jess and held out her hand. "Phone, please."
Jess narrowed his eyes but handed it over. "What are you doing?"
"You'll see," she said, messing with his phone. When she was done, she stood up and extended her other hand.
"I have no more phones to give you," he said with eyebrows raised.
"Come on," she said, just as the opening notes of a song began to play on his phone.
He pushed up off his knees and stood before her, their bodies so close but still so far. "You know I don't dance."
"Then we'll stand," she said, slipping his phone back inside his jacket. Then she reached up and wound her arms around his neck.
He followed her lead and set his hands on her hips and there they stayed for a long while, not moving, bodies touching, eyes locked, while a soft melody floated around them.
"Rory."
The way he said her name, the depth he infused into those two syllables, made her stomach tighten. "Yeah?"
"I don't need reminding when it comes to the past," he said, reaching up to brush hair away from her face. "I remember everything."
"Me too," she whispered, finding it hard to breathe from his close proximity. He was all around her—his scent drifting up to her nose, his solid body under her hands, his voice murmuring in her ear.
"But this—you, me, the baby—it's complicated."
She lifted her chin. "Is it?"
His eyebrows drew together. "Yeah."
"Jess, do you want to be with me?"
He took in a ragged breath and said, "You know I do."
"Then be with me. Right here, in this moment." She swallowed, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. "And if, in the future, you change your mind, then go. I won't hold you back."
His jaw muscles ticked as his eyes flew all over her face. With a deep breath, he brought both hands up to her face and cradled her cheeks. Rory closed her eyes and nuzzled into his palm, relishing his strength and his warmth.
"After you came to Philadelphia all those years ago, I stopped hoping for you," he said. "I tucked the memory of us away and lived my life. And it's been a good life, with the press and my writing and my friends. I think I've done better than anyone could've expected from a punk kid who couldn't even graduate high school."
She shook her head. "Except for me. I always knew you were capable of more."
"Except you," he said, a smile touching his lips. "But I did it. I moved on. I had my share of relationships. I loved and was loved in return."
"As you deserve," she said, her voice breaking at the end.
He nodded, pausing for a long, heart wrenching moment. "But my relationships always ended because something was always missing. This element, this unidentifiable thing, that always kept me from making a commitment. It took me a long time to realize it wasn't a something but a someone."
She held her breath, too anxious to speak, too scared hope.
"And now that someone is standing in front of me, asking me to love her in the present." He let out a soft snicker, shaking his head. "How the hell do I say no to that?"
Tears blurred her vision as she tilted her head back. At that same moment, he dipped his head, and their lips met somewhere in between. They kissed for a long while, holding each other like wanderers who had been lost and alone through the years and, now, inside this twinkling gazebo, were finally found.