Part Seven

Dad eyed me narrowly, shook his head in Embry's direction, but didn't say anything else that evening when he came home for dinner. Embry, after showering and changing at our house, returned to his own.

And if I had a silly smile on my face in the library on Monday morning, no one said anything. You know, to me.

No, that little experience happened the following weekend, at a pack party at Sam and Emily's house. Their first since their wedding. "Kind of like an informal reception," I told Charlie.

"Well, give 'em my best," my dad said, thinking more about the World Series than anything. I kissed his thinning hair and twined my fingers in Embry's.

Helmet on my head, I wrapped myself around Embry and just enjoyed the ride to La Push. We didn't stop at his house, but went straight to Sam and Emily's, pulling the bike to the end of a row of other vehicles. I recognized Jake's bike and winced internally. I still felt awkward around him. I knew I had to get over that, I knew that, but I couldn't help myself. Embry said it was working out, in the pack. Jake and I had met, socially, several times, but today was the first time since the big Immersion Weekend. And I knew for a certainty everyone knew how that had gone, because Embry had run a few patrols over the last week. He had shared at least one run with Jacob, too.

Besides, in the back of my mind, I wondered if it had been Jake I had thought I'd heard when we got there... That elusive sense of a presence beyond the cabin...

"Bells! Embry! Hey, you made it!"

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as Embry ushered me into the house. I swear, if anyone mentions a thing, I'll just curl up and die.

Embry squeezed my shoulders, offered me a sheepish grin though the light in his eyes was proud, and I knew dying was on my agenda for the evening. "Hey," Embry called.

As usually happened, we somehow managed to split up into guys and girls early on, as if everyone was checking up. It was a huge, extended family situation. I had a piece of chicken and some veggies from a tray. Veggies. Reminded me, just briefly, of vegetarian vampires...

I blinked the wistful memories away. Alice and I had had an indulgent visit via webcam and even Edward had bumped his sister off her chair to say hello. That had been weird. Good, but weird.

Kim nudged me with her shoulder, our backs to the guys on the other side of the front room at Sam and Emily's. "So...? How'd it go?"

All the other girls clustered and I heard a sudden silence from the other side of the room. "I don't suppose we could all learn sign language to keep OUR conversations private?" I suggested, my voice at conversation level.

The guffaw from the guys only served as a reminder that yes, their hearing was far better than ours.

Rachel laughed lightly. "Not a bad idea, Bella. Level the playing field."

Emily waited until I met her gaze. "You all right? You held out the longest, you know."

Used to the near-perpetual blush I'd had on my face all evening, I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. I'm guessing that cabin'll turn into a timeshare?"

We all laughed again and dispersed, pairing up as usual. When I thought I heard three words – you, we, wow – I clenched my teeth and did not look to see who whispered it. I did, though, take great satisfaction in the startled smack and yelp that followed.

"Thanks, Sam," I murmured to my soda.

Embry's hand was twined with mine, though he was talking to Quil and I was trying hard not to intercept any far-too-amused looks, when Jake approached. I had seen him lingering on the edges of the group, looking out of place. I didn't know what to say to him. I remembered how comfortable we had been with each other before he started phasing, remembered the feel of his hugs, his hands, the tentative expressions of his affection for me. He had helped put me back together after Edward left me.

And now, we weren't really friends, anymore. Not like it used to be. When he took a few hesitant steps toward me, I tried to welcome him with my smile. "Hey, Jake."

His husky voice was deeper than I remembered. "Hey, Bells. How ya doin'?"

"Good, thanks. How's everything with you?" Walking on eggshells with a stick of dynamite in my hands. Not the best place for someone as clumsy as I am.

His eyes pierced mine. "Okay, I guess. It's been kinda quiet, lately." His smile was sincere. "Maybe I'll get to take a vacation or something, huh? Not fair that only you imprinted types get to run off for the weekend..."

A hint of his old laughter lined his voice and I inhaled a little in relief. "Hey, you know there are a lot of, um, complications with that whole imprinting thing," I said softly. "A couple of fringe benefits helps to balance them out."

No laughter at all in his brooding eyes. "I know, Bells. I know."

Had it been him that early evening at the cabin? Had it? Had he been following us? Watching us? Listening? Or just running a special patrol to make sure we were left alone?

Too damn many ears around here to actually ask, though. I wished I could tug him away and do so privately. But nothing was private, here.

As if he had read my mind — everyone always said my face was like a book — Jacob's eyes tightened at the corners. "A lot of complications, Bells," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

That didn't answer my question about the cabin, but it did about Jake, to an extent. Embry, sensing the tension in my fingers, turned to me. "You okay, sweetheart?" Lots of the guys in the pack called me Bells, like Jake had done. It was mostly how they were introduced to me. Not Embry. Not ever. A lot of the way he treated me he did on instinct, he had told me once. Things he asked, things he knew better than to ask. The way he said my name. When we were just tutor and tutored, in the spring, he would just know. So he never called me what the other guys did. Our relationship was unique and set apart and he honored that in different ways. Like my name.

"Yep," I told him, squeezing his hand. "I'm fine. Just finishing my soda."

A quick game of tag football in the back yard and then a wolf-skinned race after dark ended the evening. We girls watched and chatted about work and school and more wedding memories with Emily.

It was such a normal evening, even with all my blushing. We were even considering making a calendar for the Cabin Timeshare. Speculation ran rampant as to when – not if – Jacob would imprint. And would he want the cabin too?

"Let him wait," Rachel said, shaking her head at her brother's single status. "Maybe my little brother just has to grow up some before he's ready for imprinting."

"Grow up?" Kim laughed. "Rachel, he's over six and a half feet tall!"

Emily smiled crookedly. "Jacob will do just fine. But yeah, he can wait 'til he has a good reason for the cabin before we reserve any weekends for him!"

"Think anyone else'll be joining the guys?" I asked softly.

Emily shrugged and shot a glance at Sam, who had just emerged from the treeline and was buttoning up his shorts after a run. "I heard Seth –"

I gasped. "He's just a boy!"

"They all are, except for Sam, Bella. They all are."

Part Eight

Imprinting came along with a mating imperative, and it was because of this that the werewolves weren't "boys" when they imprinted. They were adolescents, able to pass along their genes with the female who was best suited for that role. The one upon whom they imprinted, in our case. Embry's and mine.

I lay awake in my room one Sunday morning in mid-October, counting to ten. Over and over again. Number One made me a woman (with pleasure and discomfort, but forever)... to Number Ten (never again next to a rear-view mirror) trying to figure out when I lost count.

I must have. I was late.

I was never late. My period came every twenty-nine days without fail, ever since I passed through the first few months of my leap into puberty at the age of thirteen. I had only thought about it today, being only a day late, because I remembered last night... Last night during a dip of freezing temperatures where a gorgeous man who had a body temperature of 108.9º was incredibly welcome...

And I had been able to welcome him, because...

Because I was late.

Did I lose count during our Immersion Weekend? Or was it the night after Sam and Emily's party? I don't think it could have been after that, because we hadn't had more than one opportunity since then and, really, I hadn't paid attention to something as reproductively oriented as my ovulation timetable.

I sat up, hyperventilating. Ovulation timetable?

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

"No," I hissed to myself. No. I didn't know that. Maybe the recent events just messed up my system. I'd never been sexually active. Like, ever. That was bound to mess with my hormones.

I forced myself to relax. No. I couldn't be. I had counted. I had been responsible. So had he. Embry had been meticulous in condom usage. Okay. So, I was probably just freaking out for no good reason. "Relax," I told myself again. "Relax. So you're late. Most women are late at some point for perfectly good reasons. That don't involve babies. So relax."

I ran down the stairs to get my laptop computer. Thanked Renée and Phil for the year's worth of wireless internet access. And hit Google to look for condom effectiveness.

"Okay. So. Two out of every hundred or so uses can result in a pregnancy. That's like a 98% efficiency rating. So I'm 98% sure I'm not pregnant."

Why didn't I take comfort in that?

Charlie was out fishing, Embry was home, so I called him.

"Can you come over?"

"Of course. Twenty minutes? I need a shower."

"Sure."

So did I. I stood under a hot barrage of water for ten minutes to try to relax. Still. "Ninety-eight percent," I reminded myself. "Ninety-eight percent."

I didn't want to worry Embry, so I lowered my heart rate, practiced my smile in the mirror, and was able to greet him and make him lunch and settle in to watch a movie – mostly – without hyperventilating. And, because he was so attuned to me, he didn't push for anything at all. Instead, we rubbed each other's feet. It was relaxing.

I so needed that.

When Charlie came home, later, Embry and I were dozing on the sofa. Later, my dad said he had never seen me look so content.