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The moment Jay steps into the banquet hall of the hotel, he feels as though he’s been thrown back in time without much of a warning. Faces he hasn’t seen in years are all around as the DJ plays music, and it’s as though he’s arrived at his senior prom all over again. But everyone is older, there’s an open bar off to the side, they aren’t in the school’s decorated gymnasium, and Jay remembers that this isn’t senior prom—it’s his ten year high school reunion. A banner in their school colors hangs above the stage where a DJ is set up, reading Class of 2012 . And for a moment, Jay feels both young and old all at the same time, unsure if he wants to walk further inside or turn and high tail it out of there.
Before he can come to a decision on his own, a strong hand clamps down on his shoulder, and he glances to his right to see Adam grinning at him. “You’re not escaping just yet, Halstead,” his friend tells him, earning an eye roll from Jay as Adam nudges him forward. “No running away before the party starts.”
Jay purses his lips, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t run away,” he refutes, but his gaze wanders the banquet hall that’s been rented out and he feels his stomach clench in unfamiliar nerves. Searching, searching, searching for a face he’s not even sure he’ll see. Does he want to?
Yes . The answer to his own question comes swiftly and without hesitance, forcing Jay to inhale deeply, sharply. Working his jaw, he mutters, “I need a drink.”
His three friends who he’d arrived with hear him over the noise of the music and people mingling, and instantly join him on his trek to the bar. Familiar faces call out in greeting, and Jay pulls himself out of his head enough to return the sentiments. Kim is the one who actually lingers by and talks to everyone who talks to her, which forces Adam to stop as well, so by the time Jay gets to the bar, only Kevin is with him.
Jay’s shoulders are rigid as they wait for the bartender to make their drinks after ordering them, and Kevin leans against the bar next to him, elbow resting on top as he raises an eyebrow. “You really do look like you’re already ready to bail, man,” Kevin observes. Jay sees the concern appear in his dark eyes. “You good?”
Jay taps his fingers on the wooden bartop, looking around. People are drinking and chatting; people he would see in the hallways and in classes, who he played football with, sat during lunch with—everyone Jay knows, yet there’s a big part of him that doesn't particularly care about seeing any of these people after a decade. Maybe a teacher or two he’ll be excited to see, and one of his coaches—but everyone else is kind of a blur, background actors in his life when sometimes he doesn’t even feel like the main character.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jay assures Kevin with a quick smile, thanking the bartender once their drinks are placed in front of them. “Just weird, seeing everybody,” he adds, gesturing half-heartedly to the room with the hand that holds his glass. “It’s like going back in time.”
Kevin shoots him a half smile over the rim of his own glass. “Except we’re all approaching thirty and aren’t getting worked up over shit like prom.”
Now it’s Jay’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “When was the last time you got worked up over anything?” he asks, trying to recall an answer to his question. He comes up empty.
Kevin’s smirking, well aware that Jay knows that Kevin is the most laid back person he knows. He doesn’t sweat the small things—like prom which, back in high school, was a very big thing to a lot of people.
Jay takes another swig of his drink, letting the whiskey burn down his throat because he hopes it’ll serve as some kind of distraction. At some point, a couple of guys Jay and Kevin played football with venture over, greeting them with handshakes and easy smiles, some married and some not. They reminisce, catch up, toast to a former team mate who passed too soon, and talking to others is a distraction that serves him well—until it doesn’t.
Until Jay’s gaze wanders over to the entrance, and in walks the one person he has been thinking about for all these years.
Jay Halstead first met Hailey Upton on the first day of freshman year of high school. She had attended a different elementary and middle school than him and his friends, and transferred over to his high school before the start of the school year. He saw her for the first time in second period geometry, sitting right across the aisle from him, in jeans and a Green Day shirt, with golden blonde hair falling in messy waves just past her shoulders. Right at that moment, Jay still has no idea what it was, but at fourteen years old, he was hooked.
Jay introduced himself to Hailey during fourth period science, because she just happened to sit at the same desk cluster as him, and she had given him a smile that made her blue eyes sparkle under the harsh classroom lights. Within five minutes, he learned that she had just moved from Greektown, had a brother in eleventh grade and another in twelvth, and even though she loved Green Day, her favorite band was Blink-182.
He invited her to sit with him at lunch, and had grinned when she sat down at his table before introducing her to his friends Adam, Kevin, and Kim. She had been slightly shy at first, sitting next to him, though he didn’t blame her. His friends could be very loud, both in their voices and their personalities. But they actively brought Hailey into the conversation, and Jay saw her slowly relax and feel comfortable.
Just like that, she was a part of them. And even years later, Jay is glad he befriended the pretty blonde girl his freshman year. Because even before he got the nerve to kiss her at some party towards the end of their sophomore year, Hailey Upton had been his, and he had been hers.
She would be there for every one of his football games, and he’d attend every soccer game of hers. They were each other’s biology partners and chemistry partners, and she’d always offer to proofread his English essays because Jay and grammar rules didn’t mix. He got his license before her so he’d always be giving her rides to school and back, especially since her brothers had graduated and Hailey didn’t have a car of her own. She’d even sit on the bleachers after school if he had practice and she didn’t have to be at work, watching him do his thing before he took them both home. Most of the time she’d end up hanging out at his place because her own house wasn’t always great to be in, and once Jay found out about her family—about her father—he’d come up with any little reason to hang out when he knew she was free. Anything to get her out of the house and away from her dad.
They were always together. Talking to her that first day of freshman year was the best decision Jay had ever made. Kissing her a little over a year later was the second best. He remembers it vividly, a moment he can’t ever forget.
A senior was throwing a party to celebrate the end of the school year. The neighborhood was one of the nicer ones, and because it was warm, a lot of people had gathered out in the back. And Jay found Hailey sitting on the ground, bare feet swinging gently in the pool. He’d stopped a few feet away, admiring the blue lights of the pool reflecting off of her, rippling with the movement of the water as party goers enjoyed a swim. When he joined her, toeing off his shoes and stuffing his socks in them to dip his own feet, and she smiled, Jay’s heart threatened to erupt right from his chest as her dimples popped into view.
They talked and kicked their legs back and forth in the water, watching as the other students hung out around them. Music filtered out from the house, drowning out whatever was going on inside—not that Jay paid much attention. All of his focus remained on Hailey, as always. He watched her for a moment, and Jay’s sharp eyes took in the dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t sleep well many nights, worked a lot after school, and sometimes it caught up to her. He saw the evidence of it on her face, like she could probably use some extra hours of sleep, yet when she talked to him, she always did so with a little smile on her face. Like she couldn’t help it when she was around him.
He knew the feeling all too well.
Jay leaned into her, bumping his shoulder with hers gently and asked, “You wanna head out?” They’d already been there for a few hours, and Jay was reaching his limit on being surrounded by his drunk peers.
She turned her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re tired already?” she asked teasingly, grinning a little.
“A little,” he lied. He wasn’t tired at all, but he’d keep up the façade if it meant she would get some rest.
Hailey stared at him for a moment longer, ignoring the party around them, and he kept his gaze locked with hers. The way his heart picked up its pace every time he was on the receiving end of her long looks was familiar to him, and he had made peace with it at this point. So he watched as she watched him, before her smile softened and she let out a breath. “I’m okay, Jay,” she told him, easily realizing what his motives were.
Jay gave a small shake of his head. “Never said you weren’t. But if you want to head out, let me know and we’ll go.”
Hailey’s throat worked before she took a breath, and Jay noted the glassy sheen in her eyes that he hadn’t expected, reddening slightly. But her blue eyes never left his green and was he imagining that she was leaning closer? “You know you don’t always have to look out for me,” she said, her voice quiet compared to the chaos around them.
Their arms are pressed together and Jay reveled in the warmth of her body so close to his. His mouth was slightly dry, their proximity threatening to dizzy him. “I know,” he said. “But I want to.”
He’d followed her lead without even realizing, leaning towards Hailey the way she had, until their foreheads were pressed together and Jay’s heart was racing a mile a minute. Suddenly all he was aware of was Hailey; her skin against his, her coconut scented shampoo taking over the scent of the pool’s chlorine, the way her blue eyes dropped to his mouth, igniting the yearning in his bones with a newfound fire.
She had whispered his name—a plea among the thundering music—and Jay had answered the first way he thought to: by pressing his lips to hers.
And before he even had the chance to consider the possibility of ruining his friendship with the best person he knew, Hailey had kissed him back, and not for the first time, she had completely turned his world upside down.
Jay Halstead has been in love with Hailey Upton for half his life.
She had been his first everything, because as much as his mom and her friends liked to call him a ladies man , everyone else around Jay was hooking up but he kept to himself. Until Hailey. His first girlfriend, first love, first everything.
(He doesn’t count his kiss in the first grade to Rosie Baker as his first).
And a decade later, Jay is reminded why Hailey had been the only one to ever have a hold on him that has never loosened.
He’s no longer paying attention to the conversations going on around him—he’s too busy watching the colorful lights of the banquet hall bathe Hailey as she walks further into the room, smiling as she catches sight of familiar faces. Jay is frozen in place, very quickly becoming unaware of everything except for her. He sees Hailey for the first time in almost a decade, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.
The music playing through the speakers is nothing but muffled background noise. All Jay can hear is the increasing beat of his heart the longer he watches Hailey from across the room. She’s in all black; heels, jumpsuit, and a leather jacket on top, her blonde hair stark against it, soft curls framing her face and accentuating her high cheekbones. A gold chain that disappears down the collar of her clothes. Lips painted red stretch into a smile, and although he can’t see them from this distance, Jay knows her dimple is popping into view. Dimple his fingers have poked at before.
He sees her, and everything in him aches because missing her when they were apart was one thing—but seeing her now, in the same room as him, feels like he’s being crushed under a weight he has no hopes of lifting. His head screams at him to move and to approach her and just say hi, at least, but Jay’s feet don’t function. He is frozen in place, ignoring everything around him, vaguely wondering if his chest could get any tighter than it is right now. It’s a conflicting reaction; his heart is squeezing, yet the sight of her also feels like a breath of fresh air.
But that’s always been the thing about Hailey, where he’s concerned; she trips him up and makes his head spin—and he’s always kind of loved it. No one, even now, has invoked the kind of feelings in Jay the way Hailey Upton has.
“Are you gonna go over and talk to her?” Kevin’s voice in Jay’s ear pulls him out of his reverie, and his grip on his nearly empty glass tightens, unable to tear his gaze away.
Hailey has been a constant presence in his mind and heart for years and while Jay isn’t afraid of most things, he is , maybe, afraid to approach her and find out that she’s forgotten all about him during the years between them. It would be brutal, he knows. A blow he doesn’t think he’d be strong enough to recover from. He’s been through a lot, but this—this feels like it could make or break him.
His throat works, the taste of his whiskey still burning the back of his throat as he watches her. She’s all wide smiles and bright eyes, and Jay’s muscles tighten when he realizes the people she’s hugging in greeting are Kim and Adam. It’s only a matter of time until she looks for him—or, well, maybe he’s making an assumption. Would she look for him? Is he still on her mind? Was he ever, in these last ten years?
It’s been so long since he’s seen her, spoken to her. Years and thousands of miles and oceans have separated them, but the presence she has on his life has been solid and unmoving. As real as the photograph he still has in his wallet, worn on the edges because of exposure to the elements—especially those of the Afghani heat. He has held that photo with a tight grip, the same kind he holds onto his memories of her.
Over the years, he had wondered if this was healthy. To find himself thinking about his high school girlfriend more often than not. But Jay told himself he didn’t care; not when she was the one who got him through his years in the service. Even if she wasn’t back home, waiting for him—knowing she was out there, living her life, being her unapologetic self. . . That was enough for Jay. Thinking of her kept him going, but it was ironic now that the sight of her keeps him frozen.
He wonders how she’s been. If she’s got a job she enjoys. He hadn’t expected to see her here, on this side of the world. She’d moved to New York for college and it had hurt. They’d almost gotten into a fight over it, but Jay realized her moving to New York wasn’t to get away from him, but to get away from the rough home she had grown up in. Hailey needed to figure out who she was outside of the abuse she had endured, and Jay would never hold her back from that. Hell, she had promised she was coming back. That she would come back for him.
But then he enlisted. He’d come home. His mother had died. He left again. Life kept moving forward. They drifted apart. It hurt.
He looks at her, and wonders if she’s here with anyone. Surely if she was, they’d walked in with her, right? His throat is tight. Is she married? Engaged? Seeing someone? Does he want to know?
He does. Badly. Desperately.
So he places his glass on the bartop behind him, excuses himself from the group, and makes his approach before his nerves get the better of him with a parting pat on the back from Kevin. Jay barely acknowledges anyone he walks past, his gaze focused on the blonde, and he sees the moment her eyes land on him.
Kim and Adam’s backs are to him, and Hailey’s gaze flickers past them for a moment, immediately catching him, and Jay watches as recognition freezes the smile on her face as it flashes across her eyes. His step nearly falters, wondering if he made a mistake in approaching her, wondering if she didn’t want to see him.
But then her chest sinks like she’s releasing a breath, her smile widens, and Jay remembers that approaching Hailey Upton once had been the best decision he’d ever made. Who’s to say the same couldn’t be said now?
“Jay.” She breathes his name out and it’s like a caress against his skin, drawing him in as he comes to a stand before her. He watches the way Hailey’s gaze flickers all over him, like she’s already committing him to memory—like she’s afraid he’ll disappear from her sight. He’s sure he’s looking at her the same way. When her eyes meet his, she lets out another breath before saying, “Hi.”
Hi. Such a small word. Two letters—that’s it, yet they weighed so much. Jay was only half aware of Kim and Adam watching them, unable to tear his gaze away from the blonde before him, at the emotion that’s swimming in her ocean blue eyes that he’s always been ready to drown in.
His throat works. “Hi.” At least he can get that much out. Are his palms sweating? He feels like they are. “You’re. . .” His gaze runs over her, like he needs to drink in the sight of her all over again. Her lips tug up some more. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Surprise,” Hailey says, breathing out a laugh, head tilting slightly as she shrugs. Her smile turns a little soft, a little sad, as she looks from Jay to Adam and Kim, before looking back at him once more. “I missed you guys.”
“We missed you, too,” Kim says before Jay can, her grin wide and excited.
“Is that Miss Hailey Upton?” They turn to see Kevin finally approach them, a wide grin on his face as he looks at their old friend. Hailey’s grin is just as genuine and wide as she returns Kevin’s hug and Jay’s chest constricts as he looks around him; it’s like they’re back in high school, the five of them, only ever needing each other.
They all chat for a while and Jay’s pretty sure his palms have begun sweating again. When the others are distracted amongst themselves, Jay leans to Hailey and asks quietly, “Wanna get a drink?”
She looks at him, lips quirking up before she nods, briefly biting the corner of her lower lip. “Sure.”
Jay can feel her gaze on him as they break off from the others and make their way to the bar, where she orders herself a whiskey sour and he gets another bourbon. She leans against the bar and the words are out of Jay’s mouth before he can stop them, “You look good.”
Hailey’s gaze snaps over to him and her smile reappears, and Jay doesn’t feel like he stepped over a line by complimenting her. Truthfully, he doesn’t know how to act around her right now. He doesn’t know what’s okay and what isn’t. Talking to Hailey should be like riding a bike, but instead Jay feels like he’s learning to walk for the first time.
But he watches as she gives him a once over, slow and purposeful, before their eyes lock and she smiles knowingly. “So do you.”
He smiles, slightly more relaxed knowing that he didn’t blow it right off the bat. “I didn’t know you were back in town,” he breathes out, like he’s still trying to reconcile with the fact that she’s right in front of him. His brain catches up with his words and he can feel his skin heating up as he hastily adds, “Not that I expected you to reach out to me or anything. I know it’s been years, and—”
“Jay,” Hailey cuts him off, and her smile is as soft as her gaze. This is the side of Hailey he’s always been privy to: the soft, gentle one full of sweet smiles and beaming eyes. Sure, he’s seen the other side of her, too: the one that’s hard edges and flat stares, the one that doesn’t take shit from anyone. He’s missed all of her. Especially when she tilts her head slightly, keeping her gaze on him as she says, “I was going to reach out to you. But then I figured I’d see you here. Thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
His heart jumps, her words making his chest expand and blood to heat. Her words alone have such a reaction on him, even now after all of these years. It overwhelms him in a way that only Hailey Upton is capable of making him.
“It was,” Jay nods, bringing his glass up as he offers her a smile, “a nice surprise.”
She returns his smile over the rim of her own glass as she also takes a sip, staring at him through long eyelashes. “What have you been up to?”
Jay inhales before telling her with a little smile that’s always been hers. “I’m a, uh, cop.” He watches the way her eyebrows shoot up, recognizes the pride that swims in her blue eyes, and it warms his chest. “Just went off the beat, so I’m working with organized crime now.”
“That’s incredible, Jay,” Hailey says with a grin, shaking her head at him in awe. “That suits you.”
He smiles, because her approval means more to him than anyone could think. “Thanks,” he murmurs over the chatter of everyone talking. “What about you? Did you go into CPS?”
Her grin remains, showing off the dimple in her right cheek that Jay distinctly remembers gently pressing his thumb into every time she smiled when his hands cupped her cheeks. His hands itch with the urge to do so again. “I did,” she answers, and the pride that shines in her eyes mirrors Jay’s own. “I, uh, actually just transferred to the Chicago DCFS offices.”
Her revelation has Jay freezing in place, his glass just inches away from his mouth as he gapes at Hailey, who watches him with an apprehensive smile, awaiting his reaction. But Jay stares and stares and stares, trying to reconcile with the knowledge that Hailey is truly back. After years of distance and silence they’re both guilty of, she’s back home.
“Say something,” Hailey says with a nervous chuckle, watching him with blue eyes swimming with hesitance and hope.
Years and years worth of words flurry around in his head, fighting for dominance to be said, but Jay can’t pick them apart as his mind runs a mile a minute. She’s looking at him expectantly, and all Jay can truly recognize is the feeling of elation that inflates him to an overwhelming point.
All he can get out is a genuine, “Welcome home.”
Somehow, they end up in the hotel courtyard, away from their graduating class and only in the company of one another. It’s something they used to do back in high school, too. Be with a group of people, hang out with them for a while, but in the end they’d break off to do their own thing. Their social batteries would drain when it came to big groups—but with each other? There never seemed to be enough time in the world to spend it together.
There’s a fountain in the center, a statue of Aphrodite in the middle with streams of water shooting out upwards all around it before falling into the pool of the fountain. Instead of sitting on one of the courtyard benches, Jay and Hailey find themselves sitting on the edge of the fountain, and he watches as she dips her fingers inside and swirls them around. Coins glow at the bottom of the fountain, and Jay knows if he wasn’t sitting here with Hailey right now, he may toss a coin in and wish that he was.
Instead of diving head first into those thoughts, Jay distracts himself by asking her, “So, come on, let me hear it. How was life in New York?”
“Ahh,” Hailey sounds as she chuckles, head tilted downwards to watch her own fingers play with the water. “Fast paced, for sure. I really enjoyed it but it’s not. . .” She lifts her eyes and her gaze locks with Jay’s, and a small smile plays on her lips as she finishes, “It’s not home.”
His heart thuds and maybe his throat is a little dry as he asks, “Nothing and no one to miss back there?”
This time Hailey’s gaze lifts to meet Jay’s and he knows she sees the real question in his eyes—he’s never been able to hide anything from her. Not then, not now. So he knows she knows what he’s truly asking.
Do you have someone back there? Did they come with you?
He sees the way Hailey’s throat works, the way the garden lights glimmer in her blue eyes as a ghost of a smile curls at her mouth. Her voice is soft as she answers, “Everything I could miss is here.”
Silence falls upon them, disturbed only by the trickling of the water in the fountain and Jay’s thundering heart. He wonders if she can hear just how loudly it pounds against his chest. Can she sense his relief in knowing that she’s not with someone? All he wants is for her to be happy, it’s all he’s ever wanted. But he will never pass on an opportunity to be the reason she’s happy.
His breath hitches. “Hailey—”
“Did you come here with anyone?” she asks, gaze locking with his, as bold as ever.
Jay fights the urge to lick his lips. “Just the guys and Kim.”
They’re sitting so close, and Jay wonders if they’ve moved closer. Neither of them notice if they have. Neither of them mind.
“Are you. . .” Hailey pauses for a moment, throat bobbing, before pushing herself to ask quietly, “Is there anyone?”
Jay gives her the simplest, honest answer. Even after all these years, there’s only one answer. “Just you.”
He sees the way her eyes widen, just slightly, the hope that’s already there intensifying by his answer and he swears he can hear her release a sigh of relief. And he knows the feeling all too well. Knows what it’s like to feel that yearning so strongly that it steals your breath away. It wraps around him, takes him away from the world and keeps him in the security of this garden, here with Hailey—exactly where he wants to be.
Fingers touch his and Jay glances down to see Hailey’s touching his, hers only slightly wet from twirling in the fountain. Jay doesn’t care—not when he’s getting to touch her, no matter how small the touch is. With her, there’s no such thing as small. With her, everything feels big, everything feels deep, everything feels significant.
His pulse races, skin hot with anticipation as he raises his gaze from their touching fingers to look at her. But Hailey’s looking down at their hands, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth, a nervous habit she hasn’t outgrown. She’s still his Hailey.
And he wants to let her know that.
“Hailey,” he whispers, his voice a breeze against the trickling fountain, just as his free hand reaches up to cup her cheek. Still as soft as ever. He guides her head up and her gaze instantly locks with his. Jay’s heart thunders and he sees the permission in her eyes, the fire, as he tells her, “It’s always been just you.”
It seems to be all she needs to hear.
He feels her other hand fist the front of his shirt, and the world slips away the moment Hailey closes the distance between them and presses her lips to his. And Jay knows he needs nothing else but this.
He melts into her and somehow their bodies know exactly what to do; knees slotting together, his hand going from her cheek to the back of her head so his fingers could tangle in her blonde tresses, her own loosening from his shirt to press her palm against his heart and he knows she can feel his pounding, racing, thundering heart.
It’s all so achingly familiar.
It’s home.
Her soft mouth parts against his, his tongue meeting hers. He can taste the whiskey on her—and that something that’s always been so inherently her and he’s fucking dizzy because it’s all the same. It’s what he’s been missing for all of these years like a desperate craving he’s never been able to fulfill. But then again, has he really tried to?
He’s hot all over and it’s like he’s kissing her for the first time all over again. Like he’s back at that party in sophomore year. But instead of sitting poolside, they’re sitting at a fountain, and Hailey’s the best thing he’s tasted, felt, and everything in between.
This is all he’s wanted, all he’s needed, and it almost doesn’t feel like this is reality. If it’s a dream, he doesn’t want to wake up.
The kiss is slow, languid, like even though they haven’t done this in years, they don’t want to rush through it. They take their time, getting reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other even if it’s unforgettable. But soon air becomes a necessity they can’t ignore and the kiss reluctantly breaks, Jay’s forehead resting against Hailey’s as they strain for air. The air is filled with the sounds of the fountain water trickling, cicadas chirping in the distance, and Jay and Hailey trying to catch their breaths.
His fingers remain in her hair, keeping her close, and her hand doesn’t raise from his chest, either. The warmth of her touch sears him, the scent of her coconut shampoo as dizzying as her, and he needs her close. Closer than this.
His eyes are closed, breathing her in, nose slanting against hers like it always has, grip tightening in her hair—enough to make a whimper escape her and the sound stirs his cock, desperation running through his veins.
Jay’s throat bobs, eyes still closed as he whispers, “Do you wanna—”
She doesn’t let him finish as she cuts in hastily, “Take me home, Jay.”
Hailey is in his apartment, and Jay doesn’t quite believe it.
His eyes track her, watch the way she takes in the few things he has on display. He’s never been one to keep things—his days in the army saw to that. But he’s got some photos framed—of his family, of his friends. There aren’t many, but he watches Hailey eye each one of them, and it’s not lost on him that he doesn’t feel like he’s exposing himself, letting someone see parts of him he doesn’t want to share.
But this isn’t someone. This is Hailey. And she’s always seen parts of him he’s never shown anyone else—even to this day, when he has far more to show to her than he did back when they were younger.
He leans against the wall, ankles crossed and hands in the pockets of his jeans as he watches her stop in front of a Blackhawks poster next to the living room window. Hailey lets out a laugh, and the sound makes the corners of his mouth tick up. She looks at him over her shoulder, blue eyes glimmering.
“Tell me this isn’t the same poster you had in your room when we were in high school,” she remarks, raising an eyebrow as her grin makes her dimple pop.
Jay bites the inside of his cheek, his smile threatening to grow wider as he flatly says, “This isn’t the same poster I had in my room when we were in high school.”
It totally is.
Hailey grins, turning to face him fully, and the air hitches in Jay’s throat. The curtains of his living room window are parted, and the Chicago night sky allows for the yellowish gleam of light to make her glow right in the middle of his apartment. An angel returning to him after a lifetime away.
Her leather jacket is draped on the arm of his couch, blonde hair a little wind blown from the water from his truck to the entrance of his apartment building, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s had in here. She stands, just a few feet away, mirroring his position of having her hands in the pockets of her jumpsuit as she raises a silent, inquisitive eyebrow at him.
The tension is thick, though never suffocating, and Jay already feels like he’s on fire as he breaks the silence of his apartment with a quiet, “Come here.”
The corner of her mouth tips up, and his pulse surges when she starts making her way over, blue eyes never straying from his green. She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of him, almost seven inches shorter than him, the heat of her body already pulling him in.
Her neck tightens for a moment as she eyes him, and he adores the way her chin tips up at him before she asks, “Now what?”
He flashes her a quick smirk before wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her right to him, connecting his lips with hers. Jay feels the way Hailey relaxes into him, arms instantly winding around his neck to keep him close, pressing her front against his, and every part of him tightens at knowledge that she wants him, craves him, as desperately as he does her.
Her kiss ignites a fire in his veins, stirs parts of him awake that he thought were long since dead, and he blindly moves towards his bedroom while his fingers play with the zipper on the back of her jumpsuit before yanking it down. Just as he has it all the way down, Hailey presses her hands against his chest and pushes him down, breaking their kiss, leaving his lips tingling as he’s forced to sit down on the edge of his bed.
He breathes heavily, needing her mouth against his again, but his brain short circuits as he looks up and watches as Hailey pulls the top half of the jumpsuit down to her waist, exposing the lacy material of her black bra. His gaze follows the material dropping more and more until it’s pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in her matching underwear set, heels that she kicks off, and a golden pendant around her neck that makes Jay’s heart jump to his throat. He’d seen the chain, but hadn’t realized the pendant that hung from it.
A golden pendant he’d given her on their first anniversary, in the shape of an anchor, that he had bought after saving a couple of paychecks working as a busboy during high school.
“You’re my anchor, Jay. No matter how rough things are, you keep me steady—whether you know it or not.”
She’d said those words to him after a particularly bad night at her house, and the words never left Jay—not even today. And to see her still wearing the necklace. . . Jay can’t breathe.
He looks at her, and if he thought she looked like an angel before—she looks like a Goddess now.
“You still wear it.”
The pendant dangles right in the middle of the valley of her breasts, the gold stark against her black bra, and he sees the way her chest rises when she inhales sharply. Hailey steps towards his seated figure, kiss swollen lips stretching into a little smile that hints at her dimple.
Her finger curls around the neckline of his shirt, deftly using one hand to undo the first few buttons of his shirt as she whispers, “I never took it off.” Her gaze goes from the buttons to his eyes. “I liked having you with me.” Hailey’s throat works before she asks, “Is that a selfish thing to say?”
His chest twists, instantly knowing why she’s asking. Because she had left and he had stayed. She had left to get away from her family, and he had to stay for his, and Jay never held that against her. Hailey’s life moved on, his own was imploding after he was deployed, and then his mom died, and he left again. He never stopped thinking of her, though. But he never reached out, and neither did she.
Jay looks at her now, and he knows she didn’t reach out for the same reason he didn’t: they were too worried about whether the other would answer the call or not. Jay looks at her, and he knows.
“Never,” he answers, hands grasping her hips, her skin hot against his and he easily switches them around so now she’s on the bed, laying flat on her back with blonde hair a halo around her head as he covers his body with hers and connects their lips.
She kisses him back just as fervently, her fingers working to undo the rest of the buttons of his shirt and every bit of exposed skin lights on fire under his touch. His shirt is off in another second, and his own fingers are touching her everywhere he can, one hand slipping beneath her and finding the clasp of her bra. It’s gone in a blink of an eye, tossed wherever his shirt ended up, and the expanse of her skin against his only makes him crave more.
Her hand rests on the nape of his neck, fingers brushing through his short hair as he trails kisses from her mouth to down the line of her jaw, kissing below her ear right on her racing pulse point before moving lower, showering her skin with kisses and bites as he sucks on her skin. His lips brush over the anchor pendant for a moment, cool against his mouth before he moves on. Jay can feel Hailey’s heart racing beneath his mouth as his left hand cups her breast, before his raises a glazed over gaze to watch her expression when he cups her other breast and brings it to his mouth, loving the way she arches into him with a gasp when he teases her nipple with his tongue.
The moan that escapes her has Jay smirking against her skin, switching to the other breast and watching her reaction again, seeing the way her lips part, eyes falling shut and head tilting back as she revels in the feel of his mouth on her. Just like he loves feeling her fingers in his hair tighten, a response to every kiss and lick he showers her with. She’s so achingly familiar; the way she feels, smells, tastes.
“God, Jay,” she rasps, the sound of her voice sending blood rushing straight to his cock as he continues working his way down her body, kissing the flat expanse of her stomach before reaching the hem of her underwear.
He grins up at her, lips buzzing from the kisses he rained her with, and as he hooks a finger under the band of her underwear, he asks, “Any requests?”
A breath shudders out of her as she looks down at him and pleads, “Don’t stop.”
He gives a tug at her underwear, pulling the lacy material down her toned legs as he muses, “That goes without saying.”
She’s completely naked beneath him, and Jay doesn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around her thighs, keeping her open from him as he presses forward and gets a taste of what he’s been missing for almost ten years. He feels her jerk against him at the sensation of his tongue dipping through her folds and Jay nearly loses his mind at the taste of her; so familiar, so his .
He’s thrown back as he teases and tastes her with his tongue, remembering all of the times they did this in years past as she keeps her grip on his hair tight, keeping him close, and he sucks on her clit. The moan that Hailey lets out spurs him on, using his thumb to rub her clit as his tongue continues its work, fueled by the approving sounds she makes, the way her hips try to move with him but he keeps a firm arm across her hips to keep her in place.
“Fuck— fuck, Jay,” she cries, her other hand on his upper back, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—”
She tenses up, and he doesn’t stop even as she cries out, legs shaking as her release crashes through her and Jay takes everything she gives him, sweet on his tongue—a taste he’s never forgotten. He’s in heaven, licking her clean before leaning up to kneel between her legs as he watches her in the aftermath while unbuckling his belt, licking his smirking lips as she breathes heavily, skin flushed as she looks up at him, watching him with a blissed out expression that fires up his blood.
As he shucks off his pants, Hailey’s lips curl up and she breathes out, “Forgot how good you were at that.”
His smirk widens as she leans up on her elbows, watching intently as he takes off his own briefs, muscles tightening when Hailey bites her lower lip. “Glad to have reminded you,” he says, admiring the way the lights from outside stripe her naked body through the blinds on his window.
He hovers over her, one hand bracing next to her head as she tilts her head back just a bit to brush her lips over his, like she wants to get a little taste of herself on his lips. Jay watches through hooded eyes as she nips at his lower lip while his hand reaches out to blindly open the drawer and pull out one of the condoms he knows he’s got stashed in there.
“Feel like I’m back in high school,” Hailey murmurs against him, her hands trailing up his sides, and even though his skin is hot, goosebumps rise under the graze of her nails. She watches for a moment as he tears open the wrapper before rolling it on his hardened length. “Us sneaking off on our own all the time.”
Jay grins, heart thumping as he bumps his nose against hers. “It was always worth it.”
She pulls his lower lip between her teeth, the tug she gives it sending an electric jolt straight through him, intensified when he feels her fingers trail down the hard muscles of his torso. “Yeah?” Hailey says and he feels her wrap her legs around his waist, while her arm goes around his neck. “Remind me.”
He doesn’t need to hear much else, except for her sharp inhale she sounds as he grips her hip with one hand and uses the other to guide himself to her center before he pushes into her warmth. Twin sighs of bliss and desire escape them both, Jay’s forehead pressing to Hailey’s as her grip on him tightens until he’s fully seated in her. His heart threatens to jump right out of his body as her own easily accepts him, taking in every inch he’s giving her.
Hailey is the same; feels exactly how she had once before, but things are different. They’re older, life has happened to them, years are between them but, God, it’s still all the same at the end of it all, isn’t it? Every moment he’s ever spent with Hailey, he’s felt his best, felt like he’s belonged in a way he’s never felt with anyone before. It’s always been Hailey.
Seeing her again was a reminder. This moment right here is solid proof that can never be denied.
He sets a rhythm, starting off slow to take his time, and Hailey’s hand cups his scruffy cheek before tilting his head towards her so his lips catch against hers. Jay swallows her moan as his hips rock into her, fingers digging into the smooth skin of her hip, his other arm bracing himself above her.
Nothing else matters, not in this moment. And, God, it feels like he’s home with her under him, her warmth inviting and taking him over and taking him back.
He missed this.
He missed her.
He loves her. Never fucking stopped.
Every part of him feels like it’s on fire as his tongue tangles with hers, kissing her deeply, his rhythm never once slowing down. His pace picks up, kisses going to their lips just touching as Hailey pushes into him, and Jay lets out a quiet grunt of surprise when she uses her legs around his hips and arm around his neck to flip them over until he’s on his back, head against the pillow and her on top of him.
Blonde hair cascades like a waterfall behind her as she throws her head back, the new angle with her sitting on his cock sending a shockwave of bliss through her that settles deep in Jay, too. Seeing her like this on top of him, a sheen of sweat glistening on her smooth skin the way it is on his, is a dream. His freckled hands grip her hips, and a deep groan rumbles out of him when she begins to move, her hands on his chest to give herself some leverage.
She glows against the streaks of light in his room, a Goddess above him with the golden pendant hanging between her breasts as she chases the release they’re both looking for.
Jay sits up, Hailey’s arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips as their fronts press together and he looks up at her. Pressing his lips to hers, he mumbles, “I missed you.”
Hailey looks at him with bright blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and holds him close as she returns with a whispered, “The worst part of living in New York was being away from you.” Her hand cups his cheek, thumb brushing across his cheekbone, and his chest tightens as she adds hoarsely, “I hated it.”
Jay’s throat locks at the sorrow he sees hidden in her blue eyes, and his arms tighten around her waist to keep her close, one hand splaying on her back. And as he always does with Hailey, he allows himself to be vulnerable and says, “Then don’t leave me again.”
A breath shudders out of her and presses her forehead to his. “I won’t.”
Jay stares at the picture held between his fingers, holding it delicately like he always does the ten year old polaroid, yellowed on the borders from its worn age. The pillows prop him up, the blanket covering his half naked form, and the smile that graces his lips is never faltering as he eyes the picture of Hailey he’s kept close.
He took it on a sunny day the summer before senior year, off at his family’s cabin they’d somehow managed to sneak off to. A bikini top and blonde hair wild and in waves as they sat in a canoe, and a wide grin on her face because she was in the middle of laughing at something he said. He captured a moment of her being completely carefree and in pure happiness, exactly the way he wanted to remember her.
Knowing this smile, this Hailey, was out there while he was taking care of his mom, and then when he was in Afghanistan—it’s what kept him going.
“What’re you looking at?”
Jay looks up, catching sight of Hailey leaning her hip against the doorway of his bedroom. He gives her a slow perusal, heart jumping at the sight of her long leg, exposed because she’s only wearing her underwear and the black button down he’d been wearing earlier, only halfway buttoned up, revealing the valley of her breasts and that necklace. Her hair is thrown over one shoulder, messy and wavy as it shows in the picture, but the skin of her neck shows some discoloration from the way his mouth bit and sucked at her.
He offers a lazy smile and flips the picture between his fingers, letting her see. Hailey’s eyes narrow, leaning forward to look at the picture before she moves forward, and he admires the sight of her crawling onto the mattress on her knees. He inhales as she settles on top of him once more, straddling his lap, and takes the photo from his hand.
Realization crosses over her features, softening as she admires the image. “I remember this day,” she murmurs as his hands rest on her bare thighs. “Right before senior year, your family’s cabin.” Her smile falters then, a little, and Jay tilts his head as he watches her as her gaze locks with his. “You kept it this whole time?”
Jay clenches his jaw for a moment, rubbing his thumbs on the skin of her thighs as a weight settles on his chest. “’Course I did,” he mumbles. “Kept it with me through my tours.”
Hailey’s throat bobs, lips parting with a sharp inhale as her gaze meets his. They had been lying in bed together for a while now, trying to catch up with the years they’d kept apart. He’d told her about being deployed, she told him about some of the cases she’s worked, and somehow he didn’t choke up when he was talking about being overseas, and although her eyes had reddened about some of what she was talking about, they both still managed to do it.
Because it’s always been easy between them to talk about things. Even the hard stuff.
“Jay,” Hailey breathes out, her chest rising and falling with a heavy breath.
His hand reaches up, fingering the anchor pendant she wears. “I kept you with me, too,” he tells her quietly. “Couldn’t really let you go; not when I was overseas, or when—” His throat works before he forces out, “when Mom died.”
She inhales sharply at his confession, and Jay glances up to see the way her eyes redden, pulling her lower lip into her mouth. But Hailey doesn’t meet his gaze, and instead keeps it fixed on the photo in her hand as she admits, “I came to the funeral, you know.”
Jay freezes, muscles tensing up. The room is silent save for his beating heart, dark save from the light streaking in from the window and from the doorway where the hallway light is on. But Jay pays attention to nothing but Hailey and the apprehensive expression she wears, the way her blue eyes are glassy and red rimmed when she finally looks at him again.
The funeral. She came to the funeral. His mother’s funeral.
His head spins, and Jay frowns, beginning to shake his head. “What? I didn’t—”
“I stayed in the back,” she says quietly. “I didn’t—I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me, since it had been a while since we’d spoken. I—I flew in for the funeral and left after.”
Jay’s breath shudders, hands sliding up her thighs to lightly rest on her hips. He’s bewildered, completely taken off guard. She’d been here, nine years ago, and he hadn’t known. Anger doesn’t find its way into him—just. . . Regret. Sadness. His voice is soft as he says, “I would’ve wanted to see you.”
Her shoulders slump, shaking her head as she plays with the blanket on him and that she’s on top of. “I didn’t know that at the time,” she says before pausing. She drops her gaze. “Or maybe I did and I was just scared.”
His heart aches at the thought of an opportunity lost. “Scared of what?”
She takes a deep breath. “That I wouldn’t be able to leave again if I did see you. And I—” Hailey looks at him, a desperate expression crossing her face. “I couldn’t come back just yet, Jay. I’m sorry. I should’ve—”
“You did what you thought was right for you,” Jay cuts her off, and he gives her a gentle smile when her eyes widen slightly.
He’s not angry. Not at all. Despondency washes over him at the idea that they could’ve seen each other, and as right as they were during high school. . . Maybe they needed the time apart. Maybe they needed to figure out their own lives, figure themselves out, before they could come back together. Just like this.
Hailey raises her eyebrows, chin dipping. “You’re not pissed?”
Jay chuckles quietly, rubbing circles on her hip bones with his thumbs. “When have I ever really gotten pissed at you?” he teases and Hailey scoffs, bumping her fist against his chest before resting it here. “No, Hails, I’m not pissed. I get it.” One of his hands finds hers, interlocking their fingers, and he squeezes her hand. “And you’re right. It may have been hard for you to leave again, and it would’ve been just as hard to watch you go.”
That, he knows for a fact. If he saw Hailey again, especially during that time of his life when his mom died and everything felt like it was falling apart all over again, he would’ve been worse off if he watched her leave again. He also knows he wouldn’t have told her to stay, never wanting to be the reason why she would give up something she wanted when he knows how badly she needed to get away.
Things were complicated back then. But the weight of it doesn’t settle on him anymore. Right now, he just feels the weight of Hailey straddling him, of him finally being so close to her, and honestly. . . He cares about nothing else.
So he raises their interlocked hands, pressing a kiss to the back of hers, their gazes locked. “Thank you for coming,” he says to her. “To the funeral. To the reunion.”
Hailey’s hand rests on his cheek, and she smiles, relief evident. “For you? Always.” Jay smiles and lets her pull him forward, connecting their lips in a slow, languid kiss that steals his breath away. He keeps her close, even as she breaks the kiss and murmurs, “I mean it, Jay.” Hailey looks at him, licking her lower lip, which his own gaze tracks the moment of. “I’m here to stay now. I lo—” She cuts herself off, inhaling sharply as she smiles almost shyly, dropping her gaze.
Jay’s heart thumps, and not for the first time, they’re on the same page. His lips brush against hers as he finishes, “You love me?”
Hailey smiles, chuckling gently, and sliding her hand from his cheek to wrap her arm around his neck. “I do,” she confirms, showing off that dimple. His hand cups her cheek, thumb gently pressing into that little dent in her cheek, and her grin widens. “I love you. I never stopped.”
There’s nothing that can ever compare to the feeling he gets when Hailey utters those words and follows them by turning her face into his palm and pressing a quick kiss to his skin. She’s right here, his person—and that, she always has been.
“I love you, too,” he says. “Never stopped.” He kisses her again, and Jay knows it’s something he’ll never get tired of. Besides, he has a decade to make up for, doesn’t he? “It’s always been you and me.”
She presses her forehead to his, releasing a sigh, one that’s a mix of relief and contentment. “Always, huh?” she murmurs with a little smile. “Even with ten years between us?”
He smirks slightly, pulling her even closer with no intention of ever letting go. “Even then.”
His picture, her necklace—they kept each other with themselves all of these years. Neither of them ever really let go, did they?
Yet another right decision he made. Thank God she made it, too.