Track 12 #2
“You’ve done that for me, Alana. You’re the proof that even after everything—loss, grief, regret—there’s still something beautiful waiting on the other side.
You made me believe in what life can still become.
You showed me we’re not what we’ve lost or what we came from.
We’re whatever we choose to do with it.”
She stares at me blankly, and I wonder what’s going on behind her stormy blue eyes. I wonder if I’ve said too much, or not enough, or if maybe—
My mind goes completely quiet, and my heart pounds as I watch her move in slow motion toward me.
She crawls across the bench, landing on her knees beside me.
Her eyes hold my gaze for a few silent seconds, dancing between my eyes.
Then she takes my face in her hands and presses her lips softly against mine.
My hands wrap around her waist as we fall into the gentlest heartfelt kiss of only our lips.
My world narrows to the heat of her mouth, the depth of her breath, the satin touch of her lips on mine.
There’s nothing desperate or rushed between us—just a soundless certainty.
A silent thank you. A promise whispered between two heartbeats.
It’s absolutely perfect.
She pulls away slowly, and my hands stay planted on her sides.
Her eyes pour into mine, full of adoration, gratitude, and a hint of something more—something that seals the moment into an untouchable space.
I holster the need to kiss her again. To feel her silk lips and explore the curve of her mouth.
“Sorry, I…” She pauses. “Saying thank you just didn’t feel like enough,” she says quietly, the faint smile on her lips barely visible in the night.
I swallow hard. “Okay,” I breathe, my heart drumming behind my ribs.
She moves and settles back into her seat, only closer this time. She tucks her feet under her, folding into herself as she sets her gaze out the window, the trails of her bow flowing within her long waves.
“Oh my God,” she yells.
“What?”
“It’s raining!” she says excitedly.
I look out the window, and sure enough, rain has begun falling. The drops are so small, they barely make a sound as they land on the windshield.
“We have to go out there!”
My head snaps to her. “What? It’s cold. We’re not—”
But she’s already stripping my hoodie off and jumping out of the truck.
The rain pelts down harder, larger drops slapping against the hood. She turns her head to the sky and holds her arms out as she twirls in slow circles. My heart swells seeing her like this. So…peaceful. Free.
“Come on!” she yells from the other side of my window, and I shake my head with a smile I can’t stop from growing.
“Absolutely not. This is your thing. I’ll just wait here. Where it’s dry.”
“Ugh,” she grunts. “Get out here, Jake.”
“No.”
“Get out here right now!” She points to the ground and stomps. It makes me chuckle.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“I would never.” But I am. I’m laughing so hard.
“Jake Cooper, if you don’t get your sexy ass out here and twirl in the rain with me, I am gonna kick your ass!”
My laugh subsides, and I watch her stand there, soaking wet with arms crossed against her chest. She looks…beautiful and happy. Despite the whole yelling at me thing, she’s happy. I want her to be happy.
Aw, hell.
I take my shirt off and place it on the dash. I hate the rain, but if I’m going to do this, I might as well have a dry shirt to come back to.
I step out into the cold, wet air.
“Holy fuck.”
“It’s so good, right?” she exclaims.
“Not exactly the word I was looking for, but…” I shove my hands into my pockets and try not to shiver. I don’t understand how she’s not trembling right now. It’s freezing. My whole body tenses just trying to keep itself warm.
Her eyes scan over my chest, my arms, my abdomen. There’s a hunger in her gaze, and it heats me up despite the frigid temperature. I don’t take my eyes off her, eagerly waiting for what happens next.
“You can’t just stand there,” she says. “You have to twirl.”
“I’m not twirling.”
“You have to. It’s part of it.”
“Why can’t I just stand here? I’m in the freezing rain like a crazy person. Isn’t that enough?”
“Nope,” she sings. She tilts her head back and extends her arms out. “Twirl.”
I roll my eyes with a low grunt, then spin in a circle, my arms firm at my sides. “Happy?”
“That was not a twirl,” she giggles. “But yes, I'm happy. It’ll do.”
Being cold and wet is definitely one of my least favorite things, but the look on her face right now, that sparkle in her eye, yeah… It was worth it.
We stare at each other a few feet apart, small smiles dancing across our lips. I can’t help but think how perfectly beautiful she is. But, God, is it cold.
“Alright. Can we go now? I’m gonna get pneumonia out here.”
“You’re such a baby,” she teases. “Just one more minute.” She holds her face up to the sky again, her smile more wondrous than before.
The rain slows, and even though my jeans are soaked through, I don’t mind. I could never mind looking at her.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she says abruptly, walking to the truck. It makes me chuckle, her quick changes that march to her own beat. I never know what's coming next, but for once, I don’t need to.
We climb into our seats, and I crank the heat all the way up, shivering and shaking off the excess water.
“Hey!” she yells. “You’re spraying me!”
I hike a brow. “You’re already wet!”
“Yeah, but now I’m getting dry because you set the heat to hellfire.”
“Is that right?”
She nods with a teasing smile.
That does it. My grin turns devious. I hold the wheel with one hand and my headrest with the other as I hike myself up onto one knee and lean over her, shaking the water from my hair like a madman while she squeals beneath me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this bothering you? Did you only want rain outside the car? Do you only like freezing falling water sometimes?”
I laugh as she giggles and squirms falling onto her back beneath me, her hands warm on my chest as I continue to lean over her. I move one hand to the dash and scoop one arm under her waist drawing her closer to me, my legs cradling hers.
Our laughs subside and we both freeze, startled by the sudden closeness.
The surge in the air is electrifying. My eyes bounce between hers, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths against her.
Her eyes fall to my lips, and my jaw sets tight.
I swallow hard, my skin buzzing with the need to kiss her again. To kiss her for real.
But I let her go instead.
I sit back in my seat and reach for my shirt as she repositions herself. She slips my hoodie back over her clothes and smiles.
“We needed that so much,” she sighs, and I laugh, deep and throaty. “What? Why are you laughing?”
I slip my shirt over my head and pull it down, my eyes finding hers. “You’re a crazy person, you know that?”
She doesn’t answer for a moment. Her smirk mirrors my grin.
“You love it,” she says finally, weaving her hair into a braid.
I bite my cheek to keep from telling her that I do. That I love her crazy games and the way she forces me outside of my comfort zone. That I love the way she makes the world feel bigger, louder, more alive just by standing in it.
I stay quiet as I put the truck in reverse and pull onto the dirt road. We’re silent as I follow the street I know by memory.
The night sky fades before us, a new day being birthed at the center of the horizon. I reach for my phone, opening my Spotify and hitting play on the song I know she’ll like most.
When Nat King Cole’s “But Beautiful” fills the space, I glance over and watch as the corners of her mouth lift. And I listen this time. The way she taught me to.
Love is funny, or it’s sad. Or it’s quiet, or it’s mad. It’s a good thing, or it’s bad. But beautiful. Beautiful to take a chance, and if you fall, you fall… And I’m thinking, I wouldn’t mind at all. I’m thinking, if you were mine, I’d never let you go, and that would be but beautiful, I know…
An hour later, we’re parked outside her apartment.
A sense of dread fills my gut when we get to her building, digging deeper with each step.
We climb the steps to her third-floor apartment.
I don’t want to leave her. Not because I want more of whatever it was that just happened on the mountain, but because I have this aching need to be near her.
I know she doesn’t need me to walk her all the way up, but she doesn’t stop me from doing so, and I’m thankful for it.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say, beginning my exit when we get to her door. My hands are stuffed deep in my pockets to keep me from pulling her into my chest and holding her until it’s even a fraction of enough.
“Sure,” she replies with a ghost of a smile.
She faces the door and unlocks it but then hesitates before turning the knob. My stomach does a somersault in its hopeful waiting.
“Jake?” She turns her head to me, eyes tired and full of innocence. “Could you stay?”
Yes, I want to scream from the top of my lungs. Yes, I can stay. Forever, I can stay. But the words get caught in my throat, a tiny ember of fear trying to catch. I smother it away, burying it with my want to be with her that’s greater than my fear of what I know comes next.
“Just for a little. I mean…” She shakes her head, looking unsure of herself. “Never mind. It’s late. Or early—”
“Yes,” I finally breathe out.
Her shoulders slack in relief, the fall of her brows mirroring the same solace.
“Yeah,” I repeat. “I can stay.” She smiles, and I want so much more of it. “But you’re not gonna make me watch A Walk to Remember or something, are you?”
She laughs. “I was thinking Titanic. See those real man tears I know you shed for Jack,” she teases as she opens the door to let us in.
“He died in the water to keep her alive!”
She shakes her head. “You’re such a lover boy, and you don’t even know it,” she says with a breezy tone. The way it lights me up has me bringing my hand to rub where it lands—the center of my chest. I smile in response, my stomach clenching in a new way.
We settle onto the couch, a comfortable distance between us, but when she pulls her knees up, the space all but evaporates.
The edge of her knee brushes against the side of my jeans, and a zing shoots down my leg.
Even with exhaustion nipping at me, her presence is like a wave of energy permeating off of her.
My arm extends out along the back of the couch as I slump farther into the corner of it. She props an elbow on the top cushion, aiding her head in remaining upright. A few seconds later, her eyes flutter closed. Her breathing and body relaxes in place. She’s asleep. Peacefully. Beautifully.
I want to move her so she’ll be more comfortable.
I want to carry her to bed and tuck her in with a soft kiss on her forehead before I slip out.
But my body is stone. My blinks are slow and laggard, and I have to forcefully widen my eyes to keep from falling asleep more than once before I finally give up.
I blink one last time before the comfortable darkness cloaks my body, and I accept losing my war to sleep.
I feel a weight on my chest a second later, a soft rosewater fragrance filling my space. Warmth covers me as her body falls into the crook of my arm. My arm rolls off the back of the couch and instinctively comes down over her, covering her. Holding her, and everything she’s given me.
In my final thought before sleep pulls me under, I accept how perfect it feels to have her on my chest, in my arms. Like floating on a cloud as I drift into something that feels almost sacred. A kind of heavenly bliss I never knew existed.
I think I was wrong to call this feeling a completion. Or maybe not entirely. Because yes, it is the complete end of something. But I know it’s also the beginning of something much, much more.