#❝ filed under — jeremy lincoln.

[perikocak]

location: along the beach, right by The Anchor

status: closed for @jeremylincoln

Peri did her damn best to block out a lot of her childhood; she'd be the first to openly admit it. But if there was one thing she wished she hadn't let slip away somewhere between 'I kissed Sarah Wheeler under the bleachers' and 'that one time I read an entire essay on Eminem lyrics in front of the class, then finished with a rap' it was this: Towns like Briar Ridge were called small for a reason.

If you decided to get 'call me a good girl' wasted and hookup with a (mostly) stranger your first night back in town chances were you'd still have to see them the next morning... the next week... the night you popped into Chapman's for hot Cheetos and backup batteries.

Those run-ins were a coincidence. She wasn’t sure what to call now, nor could she puzzle out why a simple morning run landed her right back at the scene of this particular 'Jeremy Lincoln' shaped crime. 

It’s not that Peri was a stranger to one night stands. She wasn’t. Typically, though, when she said she’d only be around for a few days she meant it. For all her escapades she was woefully inexperienced with having to face her 6’5” consequences. 

Did she turn back and run the other way? Crack an inappropriate joke about this not being the first time he saw her lost for breath, legs shaking? Should she high five him three weeks late, give him a slap on the ass, and declare ‘good game’?

Decisions. So many decisions. 

Ultimately, after what was probably a few two many seconds bent over, hands at her knees, and blatantly staring she went with, “I’d ask if you live here—” it wasn’t past seven, was The Anchor even open yet?— “but I think I already know the answer.” Because she’d been to his place. Hell, she'd probably left a forgotten earring behind to prove it.

[bekturan]

“Oh, I dunno,” she drawled, a smirk manifesting itself across her mouth to mirror his own. “I think I could’ve used a bit of comic relief after playing errand boy all day.”

Which is exactly the comment that brought her attention back to the box in her hands and those still waiting. 

Blame it on busy schedules or on a reluctance to travel too far down memory lane but in the few times they’d run into each other over the last twelve months they didn’t tend to linger. That he’d do so now, pause his pursuit to find Derek just to help her now— Bek’s bottom lip wedged between her teeth. 

“Uh, sure.” Transferring the one she’d been holding into his hands she tamped down what threatened to become a grin. “Thanks, Jer.” And for the next minute or so they worked side by side, Bek sneaking him quick, covert glances all the while. 

The strong jaw edged in scruff, the long and slightly unkempt hair— It was almost funny how thirteen years had come and gone and yet, if she thought hard enough, let herself sink deep into the memories, she could still remember the feel of both against her skin.

But she wouldn't. She absolutely would not think about that or then or them. At least not until they'd parted ways again.

No, she just kept at it and then explained, “The hospital gala is coming up soon and I volunteered to be on the planning committee,” when at last the final box of invitations, RSVP cards, signage, and the like was loaded up. “I, uh, I work there now. At Cov Gen, I mean.”

Did he already know that? Did he know she wasn’t the same lost girl he’d found in Boston, off on some masochist mission to face down MIT and all her shattered dreams? Did he know she’d eventually gone to college, or that she realized instead of computer science she wanted to pursue a doctorate in physical therapy?

Had he kept tabs on her even a little bit, even at all?

Generally, he could spot her just about anywhere. There wasn't a thing about her that hadn't been ingrained into his memory, especially when nostalgia called upon Jeremy to look back upon happier times in his life. However, so frustrated and adrenaline pumping, he hadn't clearly seen Bek before speaking to her. His eyes were scanning the vicinity for the troubled twenty-something on the loose.

When he stopped in front of her Jeremy had to pull in a breath to steady himself, for more reasons than one. Blue eyes fell on her and scanned her face. It happened each time, the few times, they'd run into each other since she'd made her return to Covington. What he'd noticed was her maturity. Her face had thinned out and made her features look more carved, and devastating to a simple man like him that had wondered how a girl like Bek had ever given him a chance, much less look his way.

"It's probably best you didn't hear that," he quipped, eyes dipped to her lips as his own formed a slight smirk. They traveled around to see that she was busy, in the middle of something, and a hand of his outstretched in silent offer. "Need help?"

For two whole years they'd been so engrossed in each other's lives and now the distance between them was palpable. Of course, that was a long time ago, things were bound to change. "Ah, you know," his shoulders shrugged as a hand lifted to smooth his long hair back, "caught him pulling money out of the till and I'm the asshole for wanting him to put it back." Jeremy's head shook, everything with Derek was so troublesome and he no longer knew what he could do to fix it.

[kellyjennifer1]

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from Michael Anderson http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/stop-repossessions-with-bankruptcy/

from Jeremy Eveland https://jeremyeveland12.tumblr.com/post/171183815519

[perikocak]

Oh, he'd be surprised to learn just how wrong he was with that assumption.

Peri had been mastering the art of 'running' since the tender age of five.

First, it was learning how to run into herself. How to run from herself. In a futile bid to please parents who could never give praise without following it with a critique she'd tucked away all those too big, too bold, too loud, too reckless pieces. She bound them in chains so they couldn't get out, even if doing so meant whittling herself down until next to nothing was left.

Then, as soon as she turned eighteen, she just plain ran away. Honestly, she wasn't sure she'd ever stopped running since graduation day. It was as if everything she fought so hard to stifle exploded to the surface and now, at almost thirty-four, she had no clue how to force them back inside her bones.

She'd pretty much decided not to even try, figuring it was better to know who couldn't handle her at her fullest sooner rather than later. It wasn't an entirely bad approach, except she never actually gave anyone the chance to prove they could.

No— Peri ran from that, too. She might act indifferent, make let the world believe she preferred no attachments, preferred being alone, but the truth was her heart was just too damn fragile to survive more rejection.

But they weren't talking about that, were they? They were talking about running of the physical sort.

"Not at all, but I just killed a guy back there and had nowhere to hide the body, so risking self imposed suffocation to flee the scene felt like the obvious next best choice." Cerulean eyes flicked up at Jeremey through a fringe of heavy lashes while she casually brushed at the sand stuck to her calves, hiding a smirk as she did.

"No, I, uh, I couldn't sleep. Figured I'd see what this whole 'run to clear your mind' thing is about. Ten out of ten do not recommend, in case you were wondering. There are much better, much funner ways to get in some cardio before sunrise." With that maybe joke, she sucked down a much needed breath, her now gritty hand waving off his concern. "But I'm fine. Totally fine. Definitely not, you know, a little bit dying."

What the hell was she thinking, taking off with no warm up, no water, not carefully set pace to ease into things?

Easy. She hadn't been thinking at all.

After half of a night spent painting (unimpressively) and the rest laying awake in bed she just... left. She tugged on a sports bra, threw on the closest pair of shorts, and left. The more those persistent memories she couldn't escape gave chase the harder and faster she went. It hadn't helped, and now her entire body paid the price.

But when her gaze darted to the boat in question Peri hesitated. The promise of a cold drink was so damn tempting, but if she accepted too quickly would that make him think she'd put herself in his path intentionally? That she was forcing herself on him?

Fuck it. Her will to live and, you know, not collapse at his feet won out.

"Thanks. That'd be great." Attempting to clean her hands off on the fabric at her thighs she took a step closer to the docked vessel. It wasn't some luxury megayacht, boasting a hundred foot deck and full time staff, but if anything that made her like it more. It felt well loved and well used. It felt... real.

"This is yours? Like... actually yours?" The note of subtle awe in her voice had Peri taking an internal pause. Casual. Be fucking casual.

"I mean, I'm still down even if you say no." Looking over her shoulder she compelled herself to crack another cheeky grin. "I just like to keep a tally of my daily crimes for the bragging rights."

The deliveries came early in the morning and usually the chef or one of the line cooks would be there to receive the fish, seafood, and whatever else was incoming in the way of fresh vegetables and meats. He'd gotten the text a short while after he'd finally made it home after shutting The Anchor down not too many hours earlier for the night. Stephen's wife was sick and he'd make the lunch and dinner rushes for work the morning would be a no-go.

Deliveries signed for and the two kitchen staffers that had showed up to help that morning were putting things away, Jeremy went out to straighten up the deck. He was up and at the restaurant so he might as well start his day and get to work. The Anchor wouldn't actually open up until 11am for the early lunchers but if a power nap was needed he could pull one off in his office between now and then.

In fact, the sight of his father's boat at the dock pulled his attention. There was a perfectly nice bed in there. Jeremy kept up the boat all these years and took it out fairly regularly. And it would probably be the most peaceful nap he'd had in a while. Each time he blinked his eyes burned with tiredness. As he made his way down, however, a petite runner had come to a stop on the sand near him.

It was the woman he couldn't escape.

Not that it was entirely bad. She was gorgeous, they had a great time, in his opinion, but she'd said she was in town for only a few days. It promised to be harmless rather than a possible complication his life didn't need. Instead, for weeks now, he'd been seeing here everywhere around town. "Running's not really your thing, is it?" As usual a tease came out first. "Are you alright? I've got some water on the boat..." Jeremy gestured to it while a smile stretched across his face. "Yeah, I call this a second home, and the boat? A third." He nearly cracked a joke about remembering her stamina to be much better than this but he refrained. "Wanna come chill for a minute? Your body is very much telling on you right now."

[bekturan]

That voice— It was almost funny how Bek struggled to remember if she paid her rent or what next appointment she had in place (you know, things that immediately mattered) yet all this time later she still hadn’t forgotten the distinct timber of that voice.

Hadn't forgotten who it belonged to, or what he once meant.

It wasn't the first time they'd seen each other since Boston; it was almost impossible not to cross paths in a town like Covington. Still, like all those times before, Bek had to mentally brace herself before turning to take in Jer full force.

He was older now, a bit broader, too, and the burden of responsibility weighed heavy in his eyes, but he was— She swallowed hard, snapping herself out the inconvenient little reverie.

"I can't say whether or not he was cursing you to hell and back," the confession came with the ghost of a quiet chuckle, "but I saw him storm that way while I was putting stuff into the car."

There was a new pause then, as if she wasn't sure it was any of her business. And it wasn't, not anymore, but she couldn't stop herself from wondering, "What's got Derek pissed off at you this time?" | @jeremylincoln

WHO — Open. WHEN — Afternoon. WHERE — Downtown, likely somewhere near The Anchor. ​

“Hey, you seen an angry twenty-six year old storm this way?” Jeremy’s voice was gruff, showing signs of both his exhaustion and worn patience. In some ways he could accept that he was a bit in the wrong. It was hard to step out of that role of being something more than an older brother, something closer to fatherly, when it came to Derek. When their mother passed, Jeremy had to take over caring for his younger siblings and at the time he hadn’t been equipped for that. Either way, their conversation at least a half an hour prior had turned from easy going to a near row when Derek’s twenty-something angst at the world showed itself. “He’s about yay high,” a hand flattened just slightly above his shoulder, “and was likely cursing under his breath about what a fucking asshole I am.”