Ashlyn's stomach wound in a tight knot. All the reasons she shouldn't do something like this came flooding back, reminding her of how much she stood to lose. The dormant panic lay in waiting, the decision she made next capable of either causing it to grow or to fade.

The more time she'd allowed herself to dwell on what Kass had said about tonight, the more she'd wanted to message Derek and tell him that something had come up and she wouldn't be able to make it. Each time that she had gone to type that message, or tried to hit send, it was as though something interfered, commanding her fingers away from the button.

With a groan, she had thrown the phone on the sofa and paced her living room, considering all of her options. By the time she'd accepted that she had to go, if for no other reason than to clear the air and prove that Kass' interpretation was incorrect, a path had been worn into the carpet by her heavy steps.

As much as she didn't want to send Derek the wrong message, she now wasn't even sure what the correct message was. Did Derek think that this was a date? Or was this just a friend helping another friend, just as she'd thought? Darn Kass for filling her head with such doubts. She had to know how her words would have messed with Ashlyn's nerves.

She'd decided to walk to Derek's apartment in an attempt to reduce the anxiety she was now feeling. To begin with, the fresh air worked as it filled her lungs and cleared her head. But the further she moved from the safe confines of her home, the more the air started to suffocate her.

Twice she stopped, turned, and began walking back towards her house only to have her conscience step in reminding her that it would be rude to bail on him. And so, each time she turned back around again and took those agonizing steps that would lead her back to Salt, back to his apartment.

We're just friends. It's dinner. Some ASL lessons. Nothing different from what you did with Kass. Just friends. You can do this. Ashlyn continued to repeat these thoughts to herself, hopeful that with the repetition, she'd believe them. By the time she stood outside his apartment, she'd only marginally succeeded in convincing herself that this was most definitely not a date.

With butterflies in her stomach, and her head swimming with possibilities, Ashlyn turned away from the door she'd stood before for ten minutes and proceeded to creep back towards the stairs, towards her escape quietly.

At precisely that moment, however, the door opened behind her, and the smell of crisp apple and vanilla, with a pinch of salt, baited her senses. Hesitantly she turned and smiled, careful to hide the guilt she felt being caught in the act of leaving.

Derek stood in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. He gave her a smile that was both sweet and joyous, with just a touch of embarrassment, for what she wasn't sure. An unexpected warmth rushed through her, spilling to her fingers and her toes.

A quick assessment of Derek's outfit—a striped shirt and a pair of shorts—helped alleviate her nerves. Definitely not date attire. Kass had been wrong. The thought brought a smugness to Ashlyn as she thought of telling Kass as such.

Ashlyn's smile grew slightly, and she stepped toward the open doorway.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you knock," he ran a hand through his hair, stepping out of her way so she could enter the apartment. Ashlyn avoided eye contact, tilting her head forward slightly, so her hair covered her face. She hadn't knocked. In fact, if Derek hadn't walked out at that moment, she would have been well on her way home by now. Not that he needed to know that.

His apartment was much cleaner than it had been the last time she'd been there. The remaining boxes had been unpacked and the rooms set up was neat and uniform, not at all what she'd have expected from a bachelor's pad. It even smelled aromatic, the apple shampoo he used filling in all the corners of the room.

Ashlyn hung her bag on the coat hook, and her gaze was instantly drawn to one of Derek's DIY projects.

Wooden crates repurposed as shelves lined one of the shorter walls, packed with books of all shapes and sizes, and Ashlyn couldn't help the gasp that passed her lips when she saw the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice that poked out from the center.

She took the book in her hand and turned a bright smile on Derek. She pointed to him, then to the book, she clutched against her chest. She didn't know he was a reader — a fan of Mr. Darcy, no less.

Derek's sun-kissed cheeks took on a red undertone when he nodded. Ashlyn's heart stuttered, her admiration for this man growing.

The musty scent was inviting as she opened the front cover. The pages were fragile between her fingers, the product of much love, and her heart melted at the messy scrawling in the margins. She recognized some of the markings as his own. His insights, his thoughts, his heart were all borne on those pages.

Placing the worn copy back on the shelf, her fingers ran across the other familiar titles, knowing that inside the covers of each, another piece of Derek was concealed. She could have sat there for days, reading and discovering the secrets they kept.

"My grandmother was a collector." Squatting beside her, Derek's fingers tapped along the spines, searching for something. They came to a stop when he found what he was after, pulling Captain Corelli's Mandolin, by Louis de Bernières from the shelf. He opened the cover, flicked through a few pages, then held it out to Ashlyn. With his index finger, he pointed to a faded note in perfect cursive. 

'A love such as this exists in the deepest confines of each. It takes a spark, a movement to awaken our souls to the passion that fervently burns, but burn it does not forever. After the spark has burned out, from the ashes, a new love rises, one that endures long after the spark is gone. One that is worth the fight and worth the wait. This is the love I hope, I seek, I breathe.'

Ashlyn read each word, then reread it, the words settling in the pit of her heart, weaving into its very fibers. This was a love all dreamed of. Ashlyn hoped that his grandmother had found such a love. If she'd been anything like the person Derek was, then she had no doubt she would have.

Derek shifted closer, his thigh brushing hers. His breath was a hot caress against her cheek as he read aloud the quote in the text that his grandmother had highlighted.

"...When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness. It is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night, imagining that he is kissing every part of your body..." Ashlyn's mouth felt dry, her flesh hot. His husky voice, his words, liquified her heart with their intensity. She could hear the shallowness of her breath as it stole prematurely from her lungs.

"...I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love, which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is..." His eyes never left Ashlyn's as he recited the rest of the quote from memory. His gaze was piercing, his voice hypnotizing. With parted lips, she swallowed.

The silence was loud, creeping closer in on them. Ashlyn was not one to often feel claustrophobic, but at that moment, she was convinced the walls were pressing in on her back, forcing her towards Derek. She couldn't think straight, the words he read, and her reactions, creating a cloudy haze in her mind. At that moment, she wasn't sure what was happening, nor how she felt about it.

Ashlyn licked her lips, an action Derek did not miss. His eyes dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes, a hunger marking the corners. When he shifted his weight, Ashlyn leaped to her feet, the room spinning from the exertion. She clutched the nearest crate to steady herself, her heart beating wildly.

"Hey, are you okay?" Derek asked, rising and reaching out to steady her. Ashlyn nodded, stepping away before his touch could further burn her already scorching flesh. She entered the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. She gulped it back quickly and filled it again, the coldness not enough to quench the fire that burned in her. She swallowed the second glass of water.

What the hell was that? She mentally scolded herself. Where had those unwarranted feelings come from? That hunger for more? And why had those words affected her so much? They weren't even his words. It was words from a book that meant nothing for her, or him, or for them. She shouldn't have reacted that way. It was wrong.

She turned to face Derek, who stood much closer than she'd expected, and stumbled back against the sink.

"Your skin is flushed, Ashlyn. Are you feeling ill?" His voice was thick with concern. He reached out to place the back of his hand on her forehead. She flinched, her head pulling back. She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to see his reaction. But his hand followed, a salve to the burn.

Her answering nod was weak. She fanned her cheeks, feeling a little feverish. Perhaps that was it, she was getting sick, and that was why she couldn't think straight.

She should have taken that excuse, asked to reschedule, then gone home, but for some reason unknown to her, she couldn't make her hands form the words. Instead, she gave a thumbs up and slipped gently from beneath his hand.

I think I just need to eat. I haven't eaten since breakfast, she signed. It was the truth. In her apprehensive state that afternoon, the thought of eating had made her feel queasy. The lack of nutrition had to explain why she was feeling this way all of a sudden. Like some form of hunger-induced delusion?

Understanding the gist of what she had said, Derek nodded and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine from the shelf.

"In that case, let's eat." He grinned, and his stomach growled consent. "Okay, so maybe I haven't eaten much today either." He added with a laugh.

Ashlyn hesitated for a moment, unsure if that was such a good idea. But when he flashed that charming smile filled with encouragement, she found herself stepping towards him. He walked ahead of her, leading her out to the balcony.

As they passed the bookshelves, her eye was drawn to the copy of Captain Corelli's Mandolin still open on the floor, the lines he had quoted yelling at her. Her steps hurried in an attempt to escape its power over her, and she almost walked into Derek's back.

What she saw when she stepped out onto the balcony had her stopping in her tracks, her heart dropping. She felt as though she had stepped into some alternate reality, wherein Kass was right, and her understanding of this situation had been tossed carelessly out the window. Could she really have been so wrong about the intention of tonight?

Fairy lights twinkled against the early makings of a glorious sunset. Mixed with the ivy that climbed the railing, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Like something too romantic for a simple study session.

"I still need to buy an outdoor table, so I hope you don't mind this for tonight?" Derek pointed towards the setup in the corner.

A blue blanket was laid out in the corner, an array of cushions scattered in varying colors, patterns, and textures. Several takeout boxes were in the middle, a whiteboard perched against one of the cushions.

The setup looked comfortable, inviting even, but none of that mattered to Ashlyn. All that she could think about was what tonight clearly meant to Derek, and how their wires had become so crossed.

With sweaty palms and an unsteady heart, Ashlyn turned to Derek. Her eyes were wide, the panic she was feeling spewing from her pores. She began to shake her head, left to right, and left again, her mind struggling to process where things had gone so wrong.

She gasped, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs. Her chest felt tight, and stars danced at the side of her vision. This was all too soon. Things were moving too fast, and she couldn't do it.

She reached blindly for something to hold.

Suddenly Derek's hands were on her shoulders, guiding her over to the picnic setup. He spoke, but she couldn't hear anything, the roaring in her ears too overbearing. With a little effort, he managed to lower her down so that she sat against a wall of cushions, his hands staying on her shoulders.

His lips continued their silent pleas, the same word forming repeatedly; breathe.

She tried to listen, to follow his command, but the air was suffocating as it closed in around her. Sensing her struggle, Derek's hands moved gently up and down her arms, their soothing motion helping to ground her. He matched his breathing to hers, encouraging her to take a deep breath in and slowly blow out. He did this a couple of times, his hands maintaining their steady rhythm.

Her eyes rolled around the space, looking for small comforts; the blanket, the lights, the setting sun over Derek's shoulder, the beading on the cushion to her right, a pair of espresso-colored eyes.

The blanket was soft like Bumper's fur beneath her hands, the cushion at her back irritating her neck—the fabric no doubt made of some synthetic wool.

A car backfired on the street below, and when she breathed in, she could smell apple and salt, her new favorite scent.

Very slowly, the constriction in Ashlyn's chest eased, the breaths she'd struggled to take coming more naturally. She closed her eyes and slumped against the pillows at her back, her energy depleted.

"I'm so sorry, Ashlyn. I didn't think." Derek's hands slid from her arms and wrapped around his knees, which he held against his chest. Ashlyn opened her eyes, the extra space between them, making her feel a little more at ease.

"The guys down at the docks said that it was going to be a stunning sunset tonight, and knowing that you like to watch them, I thought it would be nice to eat dinner out here," he spoke in a rush. Derek was right. She did enjoy watching the sunset, and it was a sweet gesture on his part to consider this when he had planned the night. But he had to understand what this looked like, how it could have been interpreted.

Somehow he knew the source of her anxiety without her having to say a word. She could see his understanding in the way he avoided making eye contact with her, his eyes looking past her or at his knees, the guilt he wore so clearly displayed in the lines of his face.

"I never meant for this to happen. God, I'm such an idiot! Of course, this would have looked like some ploy to take you on a date." He wound his hands in his hair, frustrated with himself. "Ashlyn, I am so sorry. I wanted to do something nice, to thank you, and I blew it." The way he looked at her with desperation, his eyes pleading for her to forgive him; she was breaking all over again — this time for entirely different reasons.

Ashlyn shook her head quickly and reached over to grab the small whiteboard he'd provided for her.

Quickly she wrote, some of the letters overlapping.

This wasn't how tonight was supposed to play out.

'It's not your fault. I misread the situation, and I panicked. We can get through this.' Ashlyn turned the board for him to read.

"Still, I should have known. I'm sorry," he finished, hanging his head. Ashlyn leaned her chin on the top of the whiteboard, her foot gently nudging his toes. He looked up, his face stained with the guilt he still placed on himself for what had happened. She smiled at him, one of understanding and kindness, her eyes softened towards him.

She watched as the sadness in his eyes ebbed, his answering smile forming. He nudged the toe of her shoe in return, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

The smell of pork noodles and dumplings drifted before her on the twilight breeze, reminding her why they were outside to begin with. Her eyes shifted to the food boxes, then back to Derek. The board fell from her lap as she made an eating gesture, a hunger in her eyes.

Derek chuckled and nodded enthusiastically.

The noodles and the pork tasted heavenly to Ashlyn's empty stomach and the glass of red wine that Derek poured only made it better. They spoke briefly around the food they shoveled down, both as ravenous as the other.

"Alright. Since we're supposed to be studying, how do I say, 'that was delicious?'" Derek asked, moving the containers aside and stretching his legs out.

Ashlyn demonstrated, finishing the statement by touching the tip of her middle finger to her lips, then moving that same hand up, twisting it, so the palm faced forward. Derek watched her complete the sentence first in slow motion, then joined in the second time. After two attempts together, Ashlyn gave him a thumbs up, commending him on his effort.

"What about 'are you happy?'"

Ashlyn demonstrated, and Derek followed her lead. Ashlyn nodded, indicating that he'd done it right. But Derek asked the question again, his expression emphasizing you as he waited for her answer. With a shy smile, Ashlyn nodded. She was happy. Very much so.

Derek continued to provide Ashlyn with questions and phrases, and she demonstrated, displaying patience as Derek tried, and sometimes failed, to get it right the first few times.

When he asked her to demonstrate how to say that he was still learning, so to speak slowly, he struggled to make one of the gestures correctly. Ashlyn bent her right hand at the knuckles and moved it in an arc to the palm of her left hand. Again, she said. Again he performed the gesture incorrectly.

With a shake of her head, Ashlyn crawled over and took his hand in hers, gently guiding it through the motions. Then a second time. Letting go of his hand before the third, she nodded for him to try it for himself. Her smile was one of pride when he successfully told her to slow down because he was learning.

His eyes were alight with satisfaction at his progress, and Ashlyn was sure that hers mirrored the sentiment.

With a contented sigh, Derek cupped his hands against his chest before they slumped downwards, their orientation changing. She had to commend him on using sign to tell her that he was tired. That made two of them. Yawning, Derek slid down the cushions until he laid on his back, his eyes cast heavenward.

Ashlyn hesitated at first, uncertain if lying down would send the wrong message. But when his eyes closed, and a quiet peace warmed his features, Ashlyn felt safe. It didn't mean anything if she laid down beside him, did it? She shook her head at the absurdity of her question. Of course it didn't.

Pulling her cardigan tighter