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It was a week or so before you really got to hang out with your dad again. He worked a few doubles, went overtime, and picked up extra shifts, so he spent his few days off sleeping. You worked all week, shifts passing slowly. The cafe wasn't exactly a hotspot, so it wasn't always busy. The first exciting thing — well, work-related thing — to happen all summer was one morning in early June. Julia was in the back, taking her break, perfectly timed to miss the first appearance of Jack Abbot in your cafe.

You knew she'd go insane if she missed it. It was your first time working with her since the Bathroom Incident and you hadn't had time to update her.

"Dr. Abbot!" You called out, eyes widening. It was impossible to meet his strong gaze, not after what you'd done the night in the privacy of your bedroom the night of Memorial Day.

Julia appeared behind you instantly. You'd said the name loud enough to hear in the back, so she faked being useful by wiping down some counters and moving mugs around.

"Good morning," He said lowly, smiling down at you. It almost felt like he knew what you'd done, but you tried to convince yourself that was impossible. You glanced at the clock. Nine o'clock. He must've come straight from the hospital. Even — perhaps especially — with his curls stuck up in strange places, eyes drooping with exhaustion, he looked good enough to eat. "Your dad gave me the name of this place during handoffs, said it's the best chai in town. Better than Dunkin', anyway."

"He lied," you blurted. It was the best nothing in town. He was right on the second part, though. "You don't seem like the chai type."

"I'm not, really, but he was insistent. He didn't mention it's got the cutest barista in town."

A crash sounded behind you. Julia had dropped two Torani syrups at his words, clearing her throat to hide the audible gasp she'd let out.

"Black coffee, please. Small." As if he hadn't just said that.

You couldn't come up with any words, hands trembling as you wrote the order on his cup and handed it off to Julia.

Cutest barista. Cute. Cute, how? Like cute in the way that it's his friends daughter? Or the other way, which you dared not even consider?

"When's that birthday of yours, anyway?" He asked, not looking up from the tablet as he typed out a generous tip.

"Oh. Um." Your birthday? You could barely remember your name. "Two weeks. It's me and my dad during the day, he swapped with Walsh, then that night it'll be me and the med students and interns I met at.. at your, um, party. And Julia," You pointed back at her with your thumb. She waved, grinning wider than you'd ever seen.

She held out the coffee to him. "Thank you, sooo much, Doctor." You smacked her arm, hopefully subtly, to get her to calm down.

His gaze lingered, then he finally left the shop with a small smile and a nod goodbye. Luckily, no customers were eating in, so she could say whatever the hell she wanted. "That's your doctor man? Him? Holy fucking shit, girl, get on that! Don't think I haven't been on the edge of my seat all week waiting to hear about that cookout."

"Okay, okay! Try to keep it together." You explained, in detail, every minute of the party. Julia's jaw dropped too early in the story, causing her to run out of emotes by the time you finished the story. Obviously, you left out your late night activities. Retelling it had your stomach in flips just as much as the day of. "So basically, my dad invited him to my birthday party, to which he gave a very noncommital grunt, and until now I thought he'd forgotten about it."

"Well, if he works nights, he shouldn't be able to come anyway, right? Nothing to worry about."

"Dad wants to have a little dinner with everyone before his and Dr. Abbot's shifts start and before we go out. So he'll be invited to that. Before I start drinking, which is worrying."

"I'll be there, which means everything will be totally fine."

You gave her a disbelieving look, knowing her presence might even make it all worse, the enabler she was. Shift change came around slow as ever, and you two were finally released to the hot Pittsburgh summer afternoon.

"Do you want to grab lunch?" Julia fanned her face, already sweating from the beating sun. "I think I need to lay down in the shade in the park for the next five hours."

"Knock yourself out, I'm heading home to air conditioning."

She whined. "No need to brag, some of us live alone in 13-square-foot, near-windowless studio apartments with mold in the walls."

"Julia, I've been to your apartment. It's nothing like that. Just come over to mine instead, if you want the AC."

She waved a hand. "I gotta walk the dog anyway. See you tomorrow?"

You nodded, heading off towards the bus stop. By the time you got home, all you wanted was a cold shower and to crank the air conditioning to the highest setting. Your dad's building had other ideas. When you twisted the dial to HIGH, the unit sputtered, dripped some water onto the floor, and gave up.

The apartment wasn't too hot, but the air conditioning wasn't running while you were out of the house, so the cool air was slowly seeping out, replaced by that awful humidity. You fiddled with the buttons some more, but it seemed the unit was done for. Pulling out your phone, you went to call your dad. He didn't pick up. You sighed, stripping out of your work clothes for some relief and changing into more comfortable summer wear. He called back some minutes later.

"What's wrong?" His voice was panicked, expecting an emergency.

"The AC is broken. Sorry to bother you at work. Should I try to fix it, or just go somewhere else for the rest of the day for cool air?"

He groaned. He was looking forward to coming home after his shift to a nice, cold apartment. "Call Jack, he'll fix it for you. He's awake by now, usually, and he won't have a problem helping out."

That was the last thing you wanted him to say. You and Jack, alone in your apartment? While he fixed something for you? It was a dizzying fantasy. You assured your dad that you'd call, wished him well for the rest of his shift, and went to the kitchen. Your dad had a list of emergency numbers stuck up on the fridge, tucked under a lobster magnet. His own, your mother's, PTMC's direct line, and Jack's. It was with shaky hands that you typed in the number — that you would accidentally come to memorize — and hit the green CALL button. It rang once, twice, three times, as you prayed he wouldn't pick up.

"Dr. Jack Abbot." He muttered from the other line, sounding out of breath.

"Hey! Hi. It's me."

Your name fell off his lips in surprise. "What's wrong?"

It must be a doctor thing, to instantly assume something was wrong upon recieving a call. Or an old man thing.

"Nothing, really. My AC unit is broken, and my dad said you might be willing to help me fix it? I'm sorry if I woke you, it's not a big deal if you can't-"

"Relax. You didn't wake me, I'm on a run. I'm actually nearby, so I will be there soon." He hung up.

"No goodbye, then." You murmured to yourself, tossing your phone onto the couch next to you. He was right when he said 'soon', because he was knocking on the door in minutes. Opening the door ever so slightly, you almost passed out. His grey shirt was wet with sweat, droplets trickling down his neck. He had one earbud in, his hands fiddling with the other. His hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He waited patiently to be asked in.

"Good afternoon," He started, waiting for you to stop staring. It worked, pulling you out of your stupor. You let him in, leading him to the AC unit.

"I turned the dial and it made this weird spitting noise, then stopped working. It's only been a few minutes, but the place is heating up pretty fast without it. If you can't fix it, really, don't worry. I'll just take a cold bath or something."

He turned to catch your eye, an amused smirk teasing his lips. "You doubting me? Think I can't fix something as simple as an AC unit?" Your eyebrows shot up, about to apologize, but he waved a hand. "Go take your shower, cool down, and I'll be done when you get back."

His assertive tone left no room for argument, so you did as he said. As you stripped in the bathroom, you tried not to think about Jack Abbot being in your home, while you were naked two rooms over. You forced the unspeakable fantasies that brought up away and stepped into the shower. The cold water helped. There was nothing better than washing sweat out of your hair on a hot day. You wrapped a towel around yourself and stepped out of the bathroom. You hadn't considered the fact that maybe you should've brought your robe or even your clothes with you, having to pass through the living room and furthermore Jack on the way to your bedroom.

You tried to make as little noise as you snuck behind him, all his attention on the unit, but the sight stopped you in your tracks. Jack was on his knees, arms flexing with every movement. He had the user manual pulled up on his phone, holding it far away as he adjusted his readers, checking it every now and then. Unfortunately, you'd been staring so long that it gave him time to notice. He glanced over his shoulder, then jumped at the sight of you.

"How long have you been there?" He breathed out a chuckle. "Scared the shit out of me."

You couldn't summon an answer, your brain still stuck on the reading glasses resting low on his nose. You stared at him a little longer before you remembered your state of dress and practically ran towards your bedroom. Tossing the towel off your body, you froze. What is actually happening right now. Slipping into some silk pajamas that you treated as loungewear, you snuck back out of your room, sitting on the couch to watch Jack work.

"Thought I might have scared you off. Anyway," he turned to face you, pushing up from the floor with a grunt. "The air filter's all messed up. It's an easy fix, I just have to go get you a new one. Wanna come with?"

"I can do it myself, you've already helped more than enough. You have work tonight, you should go take a nap!"

He placed his hands on your shoulders. "I want to help. Besides, I know what filter I'm looking for. It's no trouble. I have to come back and install it anyway." He toyed with the strap of your tank top, spacing out for a second. "Go put some outside clothes on. D'you have anything like that dress?"

You knew what he was talking about. The one that had laid at your ankles that day he'd touched you so gently, spreading aloe on your burns. You nodded, disappearing back into your bedroom. Any other day, it would take you hours to pick out something for this, but you knew you had limited time. You picked out a plain sundress, though even the thin cotton would be suffocating on a day like this. You re-emerged, doing a little spin to show off the dress. He smiled, a real one, and led you out of the apartment. The summer heat hit you hard and fast as soon as you stepped onto the street, but the lightness of your dress helped to combat it more than the jeans and thick t-shirt you wore to work most mornings. Jack's car cooled down fast. It was mostly silent the whole way to the hardware shop, just the occasional "you cool enough? I can change the temperature," or "is it too warm in that coffee shop of yours?"

You hopped out of the car, stretching your arms and taking in the sun. Jack cleared his throat quietly, but you paid it no mind. The AC in the store was almost too cold. Cold enough to feel goosebumps raising on your arms and your nipples hardening, poking through your dress. You didn't miss the way Jack's eyes flicked down to your chest for half a second.

"Air filter, then?" You brought him back from his train of thought. He nodded swiftly, placing a hand on your back and leading you to the correct aisle. He pondered the variety of filters for a minute before finding the correct one, rising onto his toes to reach it, which you found incredibly endearing. He held it up with a grin. You got in line to check out, and he leaned down.

"Told you it'd be easy." He murmured. "You want to get something to eat before we head back?"

Something to eat. Food. Lunch. A date. With him. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off. "If you're about to ask if it's an imposition, know I wouldn't ask you if I didn't want to."

You sealed your lips, because that's exactly what you were about to say, and nodded. "Let's do it."

He paid for the filter, refused a bag, and held the door for you on the way out, then again at the car. Lunch wasn't too bad, especially when he paid (again) without letting you look at the bill. You went back to the apartment, he replaced the filter, waited until the AC was back up and running, then stood from the couch with a long sigh. "I should probably go take a nap. Call me if you need anything, air conditioning-related or otherwise. I'm always around in the day, usually after 1 or 2. I want to help out, okay?"

You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his arm. "Thank you for all your help today. I promise I'll try to keep my emergency calls to a minimum."

"You'll just have to come to me with non-emergencies, then." He grinned, ducking out the door. The loss of contact with his arm was immediately sorely missed. The way his muscles tensed under your touch was a drug, a high you couldn't wait to get back to. You stood, frozen at the door for another two minutes before another thought finally broke through the storm in your mind that was "what is fifty divided by two, fifty minus twenty-one, arms, leather car seats, sweaty grey hair," and many more, dirtier images.

You had just gone on a date with Jack Abbot. Definitely. Once you'd wrapped your mind around that, you got to work on remembering all the touching from the day, ghosting your hands over where his fingers had pressed into your skin.

By the time your dad returned from work, you were asleep on the couch, the credits rolling of your usual comfort movie. He patted your shoulder, pulling you from dreams of a certain doctor. You let your dad lead your tired body to your room without telling him about your day. He didn't need to know the details of the flirting, the touching, the paying.

The next two weeks passed in a flurry of working air conditioning, the smell of coffee lingering on your clothes, and five more morning cafe visits from Dr. Abbot. He seemed to have almost figured out your schedule, but the days he didn't make it in were the worst ones. News of your crush spread through the few employees of the cafe and even some of the regulars. You weren't trying hard enough to hide it, eyes snapping to the door every time the little bell rang to announce an entry. When it wasn't him, which was increasingly often, you tried not to deflate. Todd, one of the old regulars, laughed unabashedly every time, almost to the point of scaring off other customers.

Jack didn't show up at the cafe on your birthday, even though you knew your dad had told him you were working that morning. You tried not to be disappointed, but you weren't fooling anyone. You worked slower than usual and your smile wasn't as bright. Julia made you a birthday cake latte, which was disgusting, but you appreciated it anyway. She took you out for lunch after work, and you prompted her to talk the entire time, even if it was complaints. You didn't feel much like talking. She drove you home, making you promise to call if you needed anything, and assuring you that she'd be back around seven to help you get ready for your party.

Right. The party. You weren't feeling much like partying today. Your birthday always bothered you a bit, especially spending it alone. It was one o'clock when your dad showed up. He burst through the front door in a storm of noise, calling out apologies as he kicked his shoes off and threw his keys onto the table.

"I'm home! I was in the OR for a few more hours than I thought and I couldn't call, but I thought I could get home before you were done with work. Where are you?" He was moving through the apartment with intent, peeking in every door. He dropped his backpack in the hall when he saw you, curled up on your bed. His face fell, but you turned over so he couldn't see you. "I'm so sorry. You know I tried my best, right?"

You nodded, still facing away. "I know, Dad. I know work is important." Your sniffle didn't go unnoticed. "It's not that. It's…" Your face burned with embarrassment. Maybe you didn't have to tell him. "Work was hard today, and Dr. Abbot told me he'd come by to say hi. He didn't." You felt silly, telling your dad that you were crying because his coworker didn't wish you a 'happy birthday'. You left out that your mom hadn't called you yet, knowing that would upset him even more, and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Oh, honey, Jack's working the day shift so he can be there for your party. I thought he would've told you. He's going to be a bit late instead of having to leave early, but he's coming for dinner."

You sat up, trying not to smile in relief. "Really?" Your dad nodded, and you pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for switching shifts with Dr. Walsh. I'm glad you're here."

"Okay, okay." He stood up from the edge of your bed, placing his hands on his hips. "Did you still want to see the aquarium? We haven't really done much this summer."

You spent the next few hours at the zoo-aquarium and shopping around town, and soon your foul mood disappeared. The lack of communication from your mom was forgotten, replaced with excitement buzzing under your skin. It was seven o'clock when your mom finally FaceTimed you, at the exact moment Julia knocked on the door. You chose to answer the door first. If you could wait all day for even a text, your mom could wait a minute or two for you to call back. Except, you didn't call back. You got distracted by the bags upon bags of clothes and shoes and accessories Julia had brought for your night out. Your dad had started on dinner already, preparing for Trinity, Dennis, and Jack to show up around 8. Julia left you for a bit to put up decorations, even though you'd asked her to go light with it. You turned your music almost all the way down as you put on your makeup, sighing to hopefully relieve some stress.

You never had a fake ID, so your partying experience was limited to college parties and a couple of eighteen-plus bar concerts. There was a plan for tonight, put together by either Trinity or Julia, that you were not privy to; your only job was to get free drinks for everyone by being the birthday girl and keep enough energy to go from place to place. You were sure Trinity and Julia would combine their plans and probably make it ten times more intense, but again, not your problem yet.

Julia returned, urging you to finish your makeup faster so she could do your hair. You'd picked out a more modest outfit for dinner and a dress to change into for the night so you wouldn't be uncomfortable at the dinner table, neither physically nor under the pinning gaze of Dr. Jack Abbot.

Trinity and Dennis arrived together, greeting Julia just as kindly as they had done to you on Memorial Day weekend. Dennis disappeared to help your dad set up the table after Trinity abandoned him to build the itinerary with Julia. You followed Dennis out to the kitchen, planting a kiss on your dad's cheek and laying out plates. Julia had really built the place up with balloons and sparkles and a gift table for presents you had specifically asked not to be given. Sickening nerves were circling your stomach since the clock struck eight. You had managed to delude yourself into thinking that, because Trinity and Dennis had arrived before Jack, that he was at home, getting ready with intent. That he wanted to look good for you. But that couldn't be it. He probably just got held up at the hospital and left later. Maybe he wasn't even coming.

It was right when that thought crossed your mind that the doorbell rang. You tried not to run to it, the only thing keeping your dignity was that your heels prevented you from moving too fast. You nearly flung the door open, grinning up at Jack. "Hi."

He was dressed effortlessly casual, jeans hugging his thick thighs with a dark button-down practically painted onto his torso. He held his hands behind his back, something he did so often you hardly noticed. One hand came out, lifted your own, and spun you in a circle, your dress fluttering out around your thighs. "Happy birthday, Angel."

When you regained your balance — which took a while — you placed a hand on his shoulder for stability. "Thank you, Dr. Abbot."

He winked, following you into the apartment with a hand ghosting over your lower back.

You settled down for dinner, your father's famous zucchini lasagna. Your dad led you to sit at the head of the table, Julia to your left and himself to your right. Against your expectations, dinner wasn't awkward at all. You had figured that, if you were Trinity or Dennis, it would be strange to come over to a colleague's house for dinner, with your boss no less, for his daughter's birthday. They seemed to take it well enough.

After cake, your dad made to get up and clear the table, but you stopped him. "Will you come out with us tonight, Daddy?"

Jack dropped his fork, clearing his throat with a tiny "sorry."

Your dad sighed. "Trust me, I would, but I don't think I have a night out in me, haven't for a long time. Maybe Jack can chaperone you kids. If he wants to, of course."

"Oh, Dr. Abbot doesn't want to do that, we're going to clubs and all. He doesn't have to." You looked over at him, your eyes showing everything but what you'd just said.

Jack let out a long exhale. "If it's okay with Dr. Santos and Dr. Whittaker. I'd be glad to chaperone such an important night. Might not last all night, though."

"Oh, it doesn't matter how long you last, Doctor. We're just glad to have you." Julia grinned, and you kicked her under the table.

Trinity and Dennis seemed to straighten up at the use of their official title, and agreed. They both liked Dr. Abbot, he was the adult world equivalent of the cool teacher that let them swear and didn't give out homework. After the table was cleared, Julia dragged you into your room, changing you into the dress she'd already picked out days ago. It was short, almost too short, and accentuated your features perfectly. Layering an oversized light jacket over it, she pushed you back out to the living room. "My creation," She spun you around in a circle for everyone. "Is complete."

"Keep an eye on her, Abbot, I think Julia's got some nefarious plans." Your dad joked, but Jack didn't take his eyes off you.

"I will, I promise."

Trinity and Julia had really outdone themselves with their combined itinerary, and by the second bar and the third drink you weren't sure if you'd make it through the rest of the clubs they had planned. You stayed close to Julia, but Jack barely let you six feet away from him.

"I'm sorry you got dragged out here," you leaned up to mutter. "I can't imagine you're a big fan of clubs."

"No, but I'm a big fan of you, and I told you I'd do whatever you need. Especially if that includes fighting men off all night."

You nearly giggled. You didn't ever think you were a girl that giggled. "I promise you won't have to fight anyone, Dr. Abbot. At least, not all night."

He smiled, his large hand landing between your shoulderblades and leading you to follow behind Trinity as she dragged everyone to the next location. You sat at the bar mostly, already having used up your dancing energy. Jack sat with you, and Julia came back to check on you every now and then. "Still having fun?" She shouted over the din of the music. "Let me know if you want to leave!" You gave her two thumbs up and a smile. Your phone buzzed in your jacket pocket, and you pulled it out.

Call from: Mom

You declined it, tucking the device away again and leaning into Jack's side. Trinity was quick to grab you both and pull you away to a pool table, where she forced you into a game against her and Dennis. Jack's warm hand sliding across your waist the whole time was distracting as all hell, but his years of experience canceled out Trinity's sheer determination to win. You were about to make the shot when he let go of you, and you faltered. He reached into your pocket, your phone lit up with a notification.

Missed call from: Mom

"It's fine!" You said loudly, returning to the game. Jack made the winning shot, or more accurately, Dennis made the losing shot, and Trinity finally let you return to the bar. Julia hopped up on the stool next to you when Jack left for the bathroom. She nudged your shoulder, her usual scheming look painted across her face.

"What?" You indulged her antics.

"I've noticed you and Doctor Daddy have been attached at the hip all night. Something I gotta watch out for?"

As if by divine intervention, your phone buzzed again. You grabbed it off the bar, barely glancing at the contact. "I gotta take this!" You yelled in Julia's ear before running out the front door. You accepted the call, impatient to hear what your mom had to say for herself.

"Hi, sweetie," her voice came out of the speaker, slightly tinny from the microphone of her old landline. "How was your day?"

"You should've called me this morning, Mom. You should've called to wish me a happy birthday."

"Well, no need to be rude. I called you earlier, you didn't pick up."

"I was having dinner. With my friends. And Dad. I'm out right now, so I'm busy. You should have called me during the day."

"Have you been drinking?" Your mom's voice turned cold. "Where are you? Does your father know?"

"Yes, I have! It's my twenty-first birthday, of course he knows." Your face was hot with frustration, and your throat started to ache. You willed your voice not to shake with your next words. "I'm fine. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"No, you can not, young lady. You need to go back to your father's house right now. I can't believe your irresponsibility."

"You can't tell me what to do!" You shouted into the phone, then instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. I have been drinking, and I am not thinking straight. I will call you later." You hung up before she could curse you out. Your dad was definitely getting a call about your behavior. You leaned back against a street light and pushed your palms against your eyes, willing your tears and frustrations away. This was supposed to be fun. You were supposed to be having a night out, trying new places and new things. Instead you were crouched on the sidewalk outside a crowded bar, the air around you filling with cigarette smoke from a group nearby.

A hand appeared near your head. "Probably should avoid sitting on the curb. Come on up." You took Jack's hand as he tugged you to your feet. "Do you need me to take you home?"

Sliding a hand up his shoulder and resting it at the base of his neck, you shook your head. Three drinks ago, you'd never be touching him like this. Three drinks ago, you wouldn't tug his head down to your level and drag your fingers through his carefully styled hair. The quick movement had an arm darting out to catch himself against the lamp pole, effectively caging you in. He gave you time to find your words as you shamelessly stared at him. His arms on either side of you, his strong neck tense despite his calm face, looking down at you patiently.

In hindsight, it wasn't the best idea. You practically jumped him, fingers tightening in his hair and pulling his lips to yours. Your noses bumped, your neck ached from the awkward angle, and your head knocked against the pole behind you. He pulled away instantly. Your hands immediately came up to cover your mouth, apologies flying out faster than light. He still had you backed against the lamp pole, so there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from his gaze. Those hazel eyes that you'd spent days and nights thinking of, now pinning you with no way out.

You pushed his chest gently, just enough so you had space to step out and breathe. "God, Dr. Abbot, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Please, don't tell my dad." You looked up at him, eyes watering with unshed tears.

He reached out one gentle hand, wiping a tear just as it fell. "Don't cry, please. Come here." He pulled you into him, his strong arms engulfing you in a hug. "It's okay, Angel. You're okay." He rocked you back and forth, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I ruined everything," you muttered into his chest. "I'm sorry, Dr. Abbot."

"You didn't ruin anything, sweetheart. Look at me," He grabbed your chin gently with his thumb and forefinger. "I have something for you. 'S not wrapped all nice and pretty, but I hope you like it." He reached into his back pocket, coming out with a slim box. Your hands were busy wiping tears, so he opened the box for you, holding it between the two of you. He lifted out a thin chain from the box, a sleek and simple necklace with two small pendants: a gem, and the first initial of your name.

"Tell me if it's silly, I can go back and exchange it." Every second you didn't speak was a second Jack's shoulders slumped lower. You learned in that moment that you liked making him squirm. Hm, noted.

"It's perfect, Jack. I love it." You smiled, for the first time since the phone call, and he sighed in relief.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I was going to give it to you at dinner, but then when Santos and Whitaker were there, well…"

"Jack Abbot, were you nervous? Are you nervous?" You leaned closer, trying to catch the doubt in his eyes.

"Of course not." He scoffed. "Figured it'd be inappropriate, that's all."

"What's so inappropriate about it? Because if you won't kiss me, or touch me, then what are we doing that's wrong?" You bit your lip to hide a smile, lacing your hands together behind your back and cocking your head.

"You really are drunk, aren't you?" If the light was better, you'd notice how his ears went pink at your words. Jack Abbot, blushing. What would he do if Robby saw him now — Hell, if Dana saw him now? Those two could spread gossip faster than Perlah and Princess, and that was saying something. Not that he trusted Santos and Whitaker not to have their faces pressed against the window. "You wanna take this necklace now?"

You simply turned to face the other way, waiting for him to clasp it at the nape of your neck. The dangerous memory of you in his bathroom flashed through his mind as his fingers brushed at your bare skin.

"Jack, will you come get another drink with me? Just us, somewhere quieter than here? I don't like these clubs."

This was a trap. Definitely a trap.

"What about the others?"

"Julia will cover for us. The others have work in the morning, it's very late, Jack."

"If you stop saying my name like that, we can go."

You grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, finding the rest of your group. Julia, the most sober of the group, noticed your tear-stained cheeks first. She frowned, about to ask, but you waved her off. You announced that your night was over, and you and Jack were leaving. You prayed that Trinity and Dennis were too drunk to put all the pieces together, which seemed to be the case, and Julia covered for you, as expected. Jack called an Uber, and took you to his favorite place, a secluded but relatively nice bar, compared to the rest of the trashy clubs and college bars he'd somehow survived all night.

It was dark, almost too dark, the room lit mostly by warm-toned sconces along the walls and the lights behind the bar. The crowd was almost exactly as you'd expect; older men looking for one or two casual drinks, maybe on a date, maybe alone. The bartenders were dressed nicely, tidy and quiet except for when called upon. Jack led you to a booth in the far corner of the room.

"You happy now?" He asked, settling down next to you as he called a bartender over. You tucked your feet up under you, leaning into his side so much you may as well be on his lap. You hummed in response, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt. He moved your hand away, but it kept returning. His hair, his shirt, his hands. He was planning on ordering only water for you, to sober you up, but you beat him to it, getting another drink. "What number would that be, Angel? How can I drop you off at home in this state?"

"Don't." You whispered. "Jus' bring me to your place."

Clearly, you'd forgotten the kiss already. The rejection, the tears and apologies.

"You know we can't do that, remember? You're very drunk tonight."

"So are you, Doctor." You played with the collar of his shirt. "You just hide it better. Two drunk people, what will they dooo?"

"They will drink some water, eat some food, and go to their respective homes, I'd guess."

You only didn't answer, clearly unsatisfied with his words but not unsatisfied enough to be put off. You'd try again later. It wasn't an hour later that you'd both gone through another drink and you were completely in his lap. He was running a hand up and down your calf, messing with the strap on your uncomfortable heels.

"Is this place too nice for me to kiss you?" You whispered in his ear. Jack couldn't remember why he'd pushed you away outside that club. Why wouldn't he want to kiss you? Your scent, a mix of your perfume and your natural sweat from hours and hours of dancing and drinking, surrounded him completely, invading his senses. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered to him, leaving your neck completely vulnerable to him. He was more than tempted to lick a stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw, to grab you by the neck and pull your lips to his. But he wasn't supposed to kiss you. Why was that, again? "Let's go somewhere else, Jack."

There wasn't a universe in which he'd say no to you, so he lifted you from his lap, indulged in placing a soft kiss on your neck, and paid the bill. Leading you outside with a hand on your lower back, you didn't make it very far. He didn't know exactly who took charge, but neither of you seemed to care. However it happened, he had you pinned against the wall in the alley next to the bar, pressing your hands against the wall to restrain your touch. You tried to move them, itching to feel him, but you were grateful for the support. If not for his grip, you'd probably be a puddle on the ground. He licked into your mouth with the confidence of a man who'd been kissing since before you were born, pressing his hot mouth against yours, moving in tandem with your own. He seemed to know exactly what you wanted, what you needed, before you even got the chance to tell him.

He finally released your wrists in favor of letting his hands wander down to your ass, half-lifting you. He was drunk, sure, but he knew two things: he's too old to be making out in public, and his leg is hurting too much to completely lift you and press you against the wall like he wanted to. You hiked one leg over his hip and tugged him even closer, your dress sliding up with the movement. He pulled the skirt down a few inches to stop it from bunching up at your hips, dragging his hand down to rest on your thigh. "We shouldn't do this here," He muttered out between kisses.

"Why, you'd rather do it in my dad's apartment?" You managed to gasp out as he kissed down your jaw and neck.

"Don't be a brat." He nipped at your pulse, a tiny reprimand.

You raked your nails through his curls, pulling him as close to you as possible, burying his face in you as he took his time leaving marks on your chest. It was only when you pulled him closer by his belt buckle that he stopped you. "Let me call an Uber."

You did, practically hanging off of him as he ordered it in his phone. To his credit, despite the tempest of deep regret in his mind, he didn't shove you away as you kissed all over the back of his neck. He helped you into the car, resting a hand on your upper thigh to satiate your need for his touch. He figured the Uber driver wouldn't be too appreciative if you started making out in the backseat. You didn't really register where you were going, too wrapped up in bliss and Jack and alcohol to care about anything more than the present.

When the car stopped outside the all-too-familiar apartment building, you frowned. "You took me home?"

"You need to get to bed, angel. I'll walk you up."

You let him lead you up to the apartment and into your room, your dad fast asleep down the hall. You tried to pull him down for another kiss, but he gripped your wrists before they could get him. "Not here. Go wash your face, get ready for bed. I'll see you at the coffee shop after my shift tomorrow." He was whispering, praying that your father wouldn't wake to an unfamiliar, male voice in his home, but the apartment stayed silent. Jack placed a kiss on your forehead and snuck out the door as fast as he'd come in. He knew he was drunk enough for the memories of tonight to blur, and he could only hope you were too.

You collapsed into bed seconds after he left your room, shoes and dress and makeup still on. There was no use in trying to get ready for bed; you could barely stand on your own.

You woke the next morning to a few texts from Julia, another missed call from your mom, a text from your dad, and a few too many selfies in your camera roll. Stumbling into the bathroom to shower, you got to stripping off last night's clothes as you read the messages. You stopped short at removing your left shoe when you saw Julia's third message.

Where'd you end up, Doctor Daddy's or your place? Send me a pic ;)

Her second, an attachment above, was even worse. You were in a poorly lit bar, background full of sticky tables, neon BEER signs, and two pool tables. Most importantly, you had a hand resting on Jack's wrist, playing with his watch and looking up at him through your lashes. It was a genre of photo you'd seen countless times, backgrounds varying from frat kitchens to birthday house parties, sent to you the morning after from your friends at college. The foreground was always you and a man you had no business touching, always looking down at you with a smug smirk on their face, knowing they'd get exactly what they wanted that night.

That's where this one differed. Jack was smiling down at you, no sickening hunger in his eyes, just appreciation. Almost pity, which you didn't love, but nothing disrespectful. You pulled up an old photo from your sophomore year and compared the expressions. One, a 23-year-old frat president with a backwards cap and a poorly-executed beard on his chin. The other, Dr. Abbot. You groaned. Oh, you were so fucked.

The selfies in your camera roll were from three different locations. Some of you and Trinity, you and Julia, one picture of Trinity pretending to hit Dennis over the head with her cue stick after he lost miserably. One blurry picture of Trinity making out with some girl that Dennis had asked you to send to him for blackmail. A huge amount of mirror selfies that absolutely were not executed the way you had probably thought they were.

You checked your dad's message.

Good morning, honey! Looked like a crazy night, Jack sent me a picture from one of the bars. Hope you thanked him for taking care of you. Left for work, but there's a bagel waiting for you on the counter <3

Taking care of you. Taking care of you. You hurried to the bathroom mirror, tripping as your shoe finally came off, twisting your right ankle as you moved too fast on the heel. You looked a mess, but that wasn't your main concern. Your main concern was just how well you'd been taken care of. Your chest was littered with red-purple marks, light enough to cover but dark enough to notice. Maybe there was a mistake. Maybe they'd come off in the shower!

You took your time, but they absolutely did not come off in the shower. The night came to you in fragments as you ate your bagel on the kitchen floor, wrapped in your fluffy bathrobe and leaning against the cabinets. Lots of free drinks. Free shots. Birthday wishes from bouncers and bartenders alike. Karaoke, maybe? That could've been singing along to the DJ. Definitely losing at darts. Your mom calling you three times before you finally picked up. Stumbling out of the club. The pieces were smaller, more spread out after that. There was physical evidence of some sort of making out, but the most you could put together for that was the light beard burn on your chin, the wonderful pain of a scruffy jaw against your own, but you couldn't place that in the timeline. Getting into an Uber with some guy. A nice cologne. A clean bathroom, for the first time all night. A brick wall scratching at your back. Then, that beautiful dream. You couldn't look Jack in the eye for a few weeks, probably, after that dream.

Not that you got the chance to. You didn't see him for a couple of weeks, only hearing snippets about him from your dad, about the surgery he'd helped with, the consult he'd ordered. Jack asked about you once, but only once. The coffee shop didn't see him again.

It was almost July when your dad came to you with the news. There was a conference he was being called away to, in the middle of next month, halfway across the country. He'd be gone all weekend. He said he trusted you, of course, but he didn't want you to be alone. So, he asked Jack to come and stay with you for the four days he'd be gone.