Bella is doing homework with her boyfriend, sprawled on the nappy carpet in her room. Boyfriend…it feels good to say it. Stuffy Edward had insisted they stick to 'courting.' She's not altogether at ease, though-there's tension in the room, and she can't imagine why.
Desperate to do something, to relieve some of the thick-enough-to-spread awkwardness, she gets off her knees, rubbing carpet-patterned elbows. In the kitchen, she grabs an unopened carton of milk and two glasses, leans against the wall just inside the doorway of her room and breathes deep. Inside, Jake looks up at her with that smirk, the one that says all sorts of things, and just like that, her breath is gone again.
She gets back on the floor and busies her hands opening the carton. She can feel Jake watching her, and oh my gosh, surely he's doing it on purpose. Her hands shake and fumble, and the milk carton bursts open on Jacob's lap, soaking his left pant leg.
"Oh!" Bella gasps as Jake jumps up. There's a wet stain on the fabric of his cutoffs, and he's tense. "It's alright-"he begins, but she was already scrambling over her notes, finding some scrap papers and immediately pressing them to his thigh. "I'm so sorry!" Bella breathes, her cheeks pink and jaw set tightly while she stroked the stain, determined to get rid of the mess and get out of there as fast as possible. Stupid, she berates herself, clumsy clumsy stupid.
It's just milk, Jake wants to say, but coherent thinking isn't possible anymore when he realizes Bella Swan's hand is on his thigh and stroking up and down, face just inches from his crotch, and she looks up at him all innocent and concerned, and shock goes through him from crown to cock. "Bells," he grunts, "Bells, its okay, don't worry about it-"she adds a few vigorous swipes, and he has to close his eyes. "It's okay, almost gone," she mumbles, and does she not know the effect she has on him? "I'm really sorry, Jake-"
"Bella!"
She's never heard his voice that high. She stops mid-wipe and looks up at him, and oh, my goodness, it was that kind of tension in the room earlier, and she's facing his crotch, and for the first time she wantsto do all kinds of things with him.
Then she's turned away, still on her knees, awkwardly riffling through her backpack, trying to steady her breathing and her voice.
Jake stands, big and warm and oh-so manly, and how had she not noticed that before?
"How about we finish the homework later?" he attempts. His voice is husky and a little high still.
"Yes, okay. Great. For sure." She rambles, fiddling with the zipper on her backpack.
A beat. It seems to last a long time. And then-"Uh, yeah. I'll just…washroom," he mumbles, snatching his backpack and making stiff, clumsy steps toward her bedroom door. He's holding the backpack in front, a fairly obvious attempt to preserve his dignity.
She doesn't move till he's out of the room and down the hall. Partially shell-shocked, too, at the effect she has on Jake even though she barely did anything. Part of her wonders what would happen if they really-well, you know, did stuff.