I can feel the soft cotton of his shirt on my cheek. The way it makes me comfortable every time I can sense him take a breath, I've never experienced anything like it.

For a moment I think I startle Jack and I wonder if I should let go of him, but he finally hugs me back.

It's a moment like this that I never knew I craved until it happened.

We're so close and intimate. Every little movement sparks my heart, at least I imagine that's what's happening.

"We can stay this way all night if you want." I can hear him say softly.

I can feel giggles rising up and I'm not sure why. His words probably weren't sarcastic, but they make me laugh anyway.

Slowly, I release my grip around his back and I take a step back to see him clearly.

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely.

"You don't have to thank me." he shakes his head lightly from left to right.

Claire, this guy is too perfect! You can't be falling for him!

"But I do," I start, "You're too nice to me. How can I show you that I'm grateful?"

He grins, "A smile is all I need."

And so... I give him one. I smile at him, now with no tears in my eyes.

This can't be it. He deserves everything.

"Come," he nods his head towards the couch, with both of our cups in his hands.

Luckily, the ceiling wasn't dripping with water since the rain had stopped.

Jack sets the cups of tea down on the coffee table and goes to grab a couple of logs to put in the fireplace.

I'm sitting on the couch and I watch him light the fire with a swift precise flick of a matchstick.

It's almost an instant wave of warmth that hits me. It reminds me of the cold winter nights of Canada where my brother and I would huddle together.

Jack returns to me and sits. He's gentle when he hands me my cup of tea and we both spend a moment sipping.

Somehow, even with the heat hitting me from almost every direction, I feel a shiver roll down my spine and I notice goose bumps forming on my arms.

"Are you still cold?" I hear him ask.

"Yeah," I say my teeth almost clattering together.

He gets up again and walks over to the love seat to the side of us. There's an old, I assume, crocheted blanket draped over it and he grabs it and brings it over to me.

Softly, it touches my skin as he lays it over me.

He sits back down, closer to me then he was before and I can sense his gaze on me. I look to meet him.

"Thank you, again. Probably for the millionth time," I say.

Jack doesn't say anything, but he smiles just as I did before.

I watch him place an arm around me and I let him. We didn't do anything but watch the fire as it crackled.

It's nice and I enjoy his company. And, I feel my eyes closing in between consciousness and a world of dreams until I can't tell where I stand any longer.

I'm not sure how long it's been, but I can sense the rosiness in my cheeks come back and I open my eyes slowly. Adjusting to the light makes my eyelashes flutter.

There's a lightness over me and I can't feel Jack's arm around me anymore. He wasn't beside me, but he was still close. The air smells like him, soft and warm and nice.

"Good evening." I hear from behind me.

I sit up straighter and I turn to look behind me on the couch.

He's whisking something in a large bowl and he has a couple of different pans on the stove cooking. I'm not sure what it is, but it definitely smells delicious.

"I didn't know you could cook," I say snaky as ever.

"What do you mean, I didn't know you could cook?" he asks. "I made you soup yesterday and eggs this morning."

"Yeah," I say obviously, "but that's that. This. This almost looks as if you're working in a five-star restaurant."

"In that case," he laughs, "it better be amazing."

I decide to get up and stretch my legs after being asleep for who knows how long. My feet were still all tingly and I wished that feeling would go away. It always made me uneasy.

In the kitchen, I watch over Jack's shoulder as he cooks. He really did look as if he knew what he was doing. If I had been making supper, it would probably be all burnt by now.

It looked like he was making spaghetti and meatballs, but whatever he was whisking in the bowl was still a mystery to me. It didn't seem to fit in with everything else on the stove.

However, I still had a more important question on my mind.

"You said that you had a vinyl collection," I say.

"Yeah," he replies still keeping his focus on cooking, "it's the bin under that little corner table in front of the window."

"Cool." I smile as I walk over to it.

I grab it and set it on the kitchen table. From a first glance, I can see maybe thirty to forthy records all in their respective sleeves. He has everything from Johnny Cash and Abba all the way to Beck and Panic! at the Disco.  It's a collection that I wished I owned

"I like it," I tell him.

"You should put one on," he says.

"I don't know which one," I say overwhelmed by the number of choices I have.

I see him thinking for a moment, "Close your eyes and choose a random one."

"Okay," I chuckle.

I tilt my head up and close my eyes. I was kind of scared of reaching out in front of me in to a box. I knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but there's always a little sliver of myself that tells me I shouldn't do it.

There's the ridges of the different records I can feel under my hands and I finally make a decision to pluck one out of the box.

I'm holding it in both my hands and I'm excited to see what I've chosen. There's this sense of adrenaline that I can feel pumping through my whole body.

I finally open my eyes and I take it all in. It's The Beach Boys, Endless Summer. My dad used to play it on our never-ending road trips to the nicest beaches around the great lakes. This album is pretty much the epitome of a summer soundtrack and I was reminded of it every year until the day my dad died.

"I haven't heard this in so long," I say still in awe of my choice.

"What did you pick?" I hear Jack question.

He hadn't seen me pick it up.

"It's Endless Summer," I reply. "Unfortunately, I don't know how to play it on a record player. My dad had it as a cassette."

"Well then," he says as he turns down the temperature on the stove and turns to me. "Thank god I'm an expert."

He takes a few steps over to me and I hand him the record. He goes back to the small end table and opens a small box, on top of it, with a clasp revealing the player.

I hadn't noticed it earlier.

I watch him put everything in place and drop the needle down. It starts spinning and for a few seconds there's sounds that sound like small sparks, but eventually, Surfin' Safari starts playing.

"You said that you wanted to dance with your dad earlier," he says. "And I know I'm not him and probably not your number one pick, but do you want to dance?"

I'm not sure what's going through my mind, "Sure."

He takes my hand and twirls me around. And as I come back to face him, he grabs my other hand and we start to twist.

If anybody would have seen us, we probably would have looked like a bunch of idiots.

And as the song starts to change, we slow down and Jack wraps his arm around my waist, while I place my right hand on his shoulder. He was smooth and we swayed together.

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but I found myself getting closer and closer to him.

We caught each other's eye and now I don't know what to do. We're getting even closer now.

We're millimetres apart and our lips... they're almost touching.