Chapter 1: The Unthinkable

"Irritated."

He chuckles and clarifies, "I meant your hand."

I smile at Edward. "It's OK, and if it's not, Carlisle will fix it."

But, as much as I do try to push away the memory, the unrelenting ache in my hand keeps reminding me of my first brush with the unexpected heat that met my lips when Jacob...

My mind stutters. I will NOT think of it.

"You're going to think about it tonight."

Jacob, ugh. Why? Why did he have to kiss me? Of all the stupid, egotistical, male things to do. Stupid, 16-year-old boy in a man's body. Really gorgeous man's body, my lascivious thoughts unconsciously amend. Ugh! I am momentarily disgusted with my cradle-robbing self.

That stupid Jake Black! Idiot!

"You kissed me back."

Breaking out of the unwanted memory at hearing those words, ones I'd vehemently denied at the time, I listen to Edward's even breathing beside me instead. Outwardly, he appears as cool and collected ever, but I know he's thinking murderous thoughts towards my... my friend? I flex my fingers and try re-clenching them into a fist, carefully placing the question mark at the end of my last curious thought.

I move away from playing with the idea of Jake and me having more, forcing myself back to the reality of my crushed hand. I smile to myself as I survey the damage. It is deeply satisfying to me that I hit Jake, but definitely not so satisfying knowing that he hadn't felt it. Well, maybe he did a little, I fool myself, a smirk forming. He did cry out, after all.

How dare he do this?! How dare he throw me into a whirlwind of emotion, just when Edward's finally come back for me? How dare he try to change my mind! As if it was just my stubborn, mule-headed brain that is binding me to the boy next to me? As if....

"Oh!"

Edward shoots me a curious glance, mistaking my unintentional outburst as a cry of pain. I quietly send a thank you out to whatever god or twist of fate that makes my mind impervious to Edward's special talent. Especially, tonight. He reaches for my hand and his cool touch eases some of the hurt and swelling there. Renee used to say there's nothing like some ice to cure a boo-boo, I muse.

So, that's it, huh? One kiss is all it takes and the perfectly formed future that I treasure in my head swirls into a twisted knot of uncertainty that even Alice can't decipher it? An unexpected swell of warmth comes from somewhere within me as my thoughts return to the initial idea that prompted my small epiphany.

Can it really be that my amazingly stubborn self just can't fathom a place beyond Edward's cool embrace? Am I that unimaginative? Have I ever entertained the idea of Jacob Black before that fateful call? Before Italy?

Yes, I have.

Jake brutally reminded me of it tonight.

"He's not your whole life either, not anymore."

If I was truly honest with myself, I'd admit that it did feel good to be overwhelmed with the warmth Jacob offered. Such a juxtaposition to the first dazzling wonder of Edward's now familiar, comforting, and cool touch. My internal interrogation continues relentlessly. And, what about my hatred of the cold? Hadn't I cursed the drizzly darkness and longed for the brilliant sun when I first set foot in Forks? Interesting how I haven't thought of these things in a long, long while.

Jacob. My personal sun. That's what I'd thought of him.

Am I going to eclipse the goodness of him now? That goodness that reaches out to my broken heart. Do I want to overshadow the boy who helped heal me? Am I willing to darken his wholehearted love with the one who shattered mine? Am I going to wager this precarious and precious wholeness that Jake helped me rebuild? Can I so callously swipe away the joy, peace and freedom I revel in with Jake, to chase an unknown, scary, and shadowed future with Edward?

Damn that Jake!

He would rather see me dead than allow me to be what I've always thought inevitable. He wants me to be alive, I reason with myself. He wants to keep hearing my heart beat. Is that so terrible of him?

My best friend is making me question all the things I hold sacred and dear. I can just hear his snarky response now, "But that's what friends are for, Bells, friends don't let friends live out their lives drunk on leech love!"

I purposely purse my lips to stop the smile from forming.

Am I addicted to Edward? Can I really entertain the thought of Jake as more than my best friend? Didn't he bring with him some relief from this never ending cold, wet climate that allows Edward's to exist in my world? Do I want a sunny happily ever after? Do I want what I have with Edward to end? Can I even end it now? What about Victoria? The Volturi? Alice? The Cullens? Edward?

Ahhh, yes... Edward...

To be truly honest with myself is to admit that it did take some willpower to keep myself from responding to Jake's amorous attempt to convince me of another path. I must've somehow viscerally sensed he would be the guide leading me out of darkness and into the light. Perhaps that's why I so vehemently pushed him away. I'd shut my mind to that bright spark.

It had been easier to fill myself with shock and anger toward Jake. After all, he threatened to bash and splinter my long held, fantastic dreams with his clumsy, wolfish efforts to make me face an alternate reality. A human, well, sort of human, one. I'd ruthlessly shut down my physical response to his kiss even while my heart beat in time with his.

I absently rub at the center of my chest. I feel a rough, quick staccato against my palm. I recognize the beat. It is the very one that responded to Jake's hot lips on mine and the touch of his tongue urging mine to open for him.

"What are you thinking?" Edward's quiet question interrupts my mutinous thoughts. "Bella?"

"Oh! I'm just so angry at Jacob!" I cry wretchedly, "Why can't he just..." my voice drifts as my thoughts trail away. Edward picks up what he believes to be my train of thought.

"Go away? I can make him do that," Edward replies, jubilant with the idea, "Or do you want me to just maim the mongrel? It wouldn't be so hard to do tonight." He hisses the words through his perfectly deadly, clenched teeth, his hands grip the steering wheel.

"NO!" I just about scream at him, not realizing the full strength of emotion I hold behind that one word. Edward flinches back slightly, but remains silent beside me, casting me a purposely slow sidelong glance. The silence is unbearable and then suddenly, from an unlikely source, I hear out loud the secret held within my heart, a secret that I can't yet bear to hear voiced.

"You love him." The quiet whoosh of words, barely audible, hangs in the air, not so much a question as a sudden realization.

"Yes," I reply, "but..."

But what, Bella? I chide myself. For some reason unbeknownst to me I have trouble saying the words that always came so easily in the past. Before Jake's kiss.

I'd have said, not as much as I love you.

C'mon, Bella, say it, I prompt myself. Say, not as much as I love you. I thought the words so often before and because I simply will them to form, I finally hear myself whisper the words Edward seems so suddenly eager to hear, the words my mind so desperately wants my lips to utter.

"But not as much as I love you, Edward."

I close my eyes then, and succumb to the bone-deep tiredness that threatens to drown me as I fight this unwelcome swirl of emotion. Jacob Black. Ugh. How dare he do this to me...

"When he thinks you're asleep, you'll be thinking about your options"

My last conscious thought.

Damn, that Jacob Black!