CHAPTER ELEVEN

I pulled away from Paul after a couple more minutes and wiped my face with my shirt sleeve.

"Shit," I muttered. "I'm such a mess."

"It's ok," he said softly, then looked over his shoulder at the other guys who were standing outside the door staring in. "Haven't you got something you should be doing?"

"Uh...yeah...um...Seth, are you ok?" Tim asked.

"Yeah." I grinned for about the first time in a month. "He's a...friend from La Push."

"We should get to training," Randy said. "What do you want us to tell coach?"

"That I'll speak to him later," I told him.

"Sure." The three of them gathered up their kit and left the apartment moments later. I immediately looked back at Paul. I still didn't know how he had known to just turn up right then, when I was so desperately in need of him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"You called, didn't you?" he smiled.

"I never said anything," I reminded him.

"I know. Good thing I'm a nosy fucker then. I have caller ID and I looked up the area code. I don't know anyone else in Portland and I just got this weird feeling. I mean, why would you call and not say anything? I thought I'd just drive over here and check it out. Why didn't you speak to me?"

"I don't know, I guess I lost my nerve," I admitted. "I didn't want to dump my shit on you."

"I told you to call if you got any trouble and from where I'm sitting, it looks like you got a whole heap of it. So are you going to tell me what's been going on here?" Paul reached out again and took hold of my hand. I dropped my eyes in surprise and looked at his strong hand gripping mine.

"You look like hell, Seth," he continued. "Like you're scared. Your room mates seem to think you're doing drugs."

"It would probably seem like that to them," I said wrily. "I've been sick a lot and they must think I've been acting strangely."

I went back to the beginning and told him the whole story, starting with me feeling like I made a huge mistake by coming to Portland, then trying to make more effort after Christmas to do well rather than let myself down after I'd put so much into getting the scholarship in the first place.

"I never did get why you applied for that," Paul put in. "Everyone was surprised you would choose football for a career. Sam said you never really liked it."

"Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't know what I wanted to do and it just sort of presented itself to me." I wasn't about to tell him I had jumped at it for the sole reason of getting away from La Push to try to forget him.

I went on with the story, the brunches in the diner, Perry asking me out. I was surprised when Paul's brows drew together and he scowled, his hand tightening a fraction on mine. Why would he be pissed? He guessed the guy hurt me? Or...was he jealous? No, I couldn't believe that.

I told him about the date, how uneasy I was and how I wished I'd walked away when I had the chance. As I told him about being beaten and waking up in hospital, he cursed viciously under his breath and his face began to look agonised.

I continued with a brief description of my persistent and irrational fear since the attack which had resulted in me beginning to fail my classes and making every excuse I could think of to avoid training, including making myself sick. To my surprise, it seemed easy and a huge relief to let it all pour out and strangely I didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed either.

"Why didn't you call before when this first happened?" Paul asked sadly when I finished talking. I was somewhat amazed he hadn't just lost his temper and demanded to know where he could find Perry. "It's been how long? A month?"

"I thought I'd get over it," I said. "Then I just felt like a fool and a failure. I'm going to get thrown out next week," I added.

"No, you won't. You won't be here," he said firmly. "Like I said, I'm taking you home."

"But what about the scholarship?"

"Seth, do you really want to be here? Miles from home, from everybody you care about, doing something you hate?" he asked.

"No," I said without hesitation. Then I sighed heavily. "But I'll let everyone down. The college gave me a chance and I fucked it up."

"Don't worry about anyone else," Paul said. "What do you want. Put yourself first."

"I want to go home. I don't want to spend my life playing football, travelling around all over the damned country. I just don't know what I'll do when I get back. I can't exactly go back to school now and I'll never get a decent job."

"I think I know where you might find one, at least until you figure out what you want," Paul said. "I'll tell you about it on the way back. You should go and see whoever you need to advise that you're leaving."

"Ok. I better get a shower first."

I slid my hand free of his, grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom. I still couldn't believe he was here. I stood under the hot spray, feeling all the tension that I had held in me for so long seeping away. I was going home! It didn't even seem to matter any more that I would have to tell Mom and Leah and Jake that I failed. Paul cared about me, enough to have come racing all the way to Portland on the strength of a phone call he didn't even know for sure was from me and had held me in his arms and comforted me. Even if he only wanted to be my friend now, it was enough.

I finished the shower quickly, dried off and got dressed. When I emerged, Paul was pacing around the living room impatiently.

"Sorry, I was as quick as..."

"Seth, don't ever say sorry to me," he interrupted, his face relaxing. "I'm not pissed at you. So, do you want me to go with you to see the tutor or coach or whatever?"

"No. Thanks, I'll be fine," I said, surprised that I didn't feel anywhere near as worried about going out any more. "I need to see a couple of people."

"How long do you need? An hour?" Paul asked, glancing at his wristwatch.

"Yeah, I shouldn't be much longer than that," I nodded.

"I'll meet you outside the building when you're done," he told me. "Then we'll pack up your stuff and get out of here."

"Ok." I grabbed my keys and led the way out of the apartment, wondering how I would fare by the time I got over to the training fields. I considered asking Paul to go with me after all, but I didn't want to behave like any more of a wuss than I already had, not that he seemed to be in the least bothered by it. I would be fine, I decided.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah." I shot him a grin. "Thanks, Paul. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't turned up when you did."

"Well, I did turn up." He smiled at me, then got into his truck which was parked in front of the building and drove off.

I headed over to the football field to find the coach and try to speak to my room mates. I didn't want them to get back to the apartment and find me gone with no explanation. I was nervous and I kept looking around me, still worried about being out, but somehow it didn't seem so bad as it had the last time I left my room. I found the coach within five minutes and the training session happened to be taking a break. I told him I was aware I was close to being ejected from the scholarship and that my failings were due to personal problems. It had become impossible for me to continue and I intended to give up my place to someone more deserving, before I was completely disgraced by being asked to leave.

The coach was disappointed and told me I had been a promising student up until a few weeks ago, but he respected my decision and wished me luck. I left him and went to speak to the guys who were passing a bottle of water around between them.

"Seth, what are you doing here? Where's that guy?" Randy asked.

"He's waiting for me. I'm leaving," I said.

"What? Did they kick you out already?" Tim frowned.

"No, I quit. I can't do this any more."

"You're sick, aren't you?" said Randy.

"Not the way you think." I gave him a smile. "I just have some shit to deal with and I can't do it here. Paul's taking me back to La Push."

"Who is he, anyway?" asked Bobbie.

"He's the guy I was running away from when I came here," I admitted.

"You're giving up your career to be with him?" Tim's eyebrows rose.

"It's nothing to do with that. I almost wish it was." I sighed heavily. "I didn't want to tell you this because I felt like a complete dickhead. The night I got beat up - it wasn't a mugger. I met Perry and..."

"It was him?" Bobbie interrupted. "What happened?"

"He turned out to be a homophobic thug who picks up young guys on purpose so he can kick the shit out of them."

All three of them uttered horrified expletives at this.

"After that, I guess I didn't want to go out anywhere in case someone else jumped me," I said. "So I kept pretending to be sick."

"God, Seth, why didn't you tell us?" Randy groaned. "We'd have helped you. Gone and taught that sick fucker a lesson."

"Yeah, well I had a few reasons for not saying anything," I told him. "It's over anyway. I'll be ok when I get home."

"I'm sorry," Tim said. "We're going to miss you. Keep in touch, yeah?"

"Sure," I nodded. "I'll email or something. I'm just going over to the college to tell them I'm leaving. Save them a job writing a letter to tell me I'm out." I grinned again.

The three of them gave me quick hugs and then went back to their training. I headed over to the college buildings to look for one of my tutors, guessing I would find at least a couple of them in the staff lounge. They reacted pretty much the same as the coach, wishing me luck and saying it was a shame I hadn't been able to continue the way I started. I left quickly, rounded a corner in the corridor and ran smack into a huge guy charging along with an armful of folders. They fell to the floor with the impact and I jumped back out of the way.

"Fuck!" he grumbled, crouching down to gather everything up.

My heart began to pound and I took a couple of steps backwards. Shit.

"I'm s-sorry," I stammered as he got slowly to his feet.

"No problem, I wasn't looking where I was going."

He skirted around me and disappeared and I let out a long shaky breath. Nothing to worry about. Now all I had to do was get back to the apartment building and meet Paul. I checked my cellphone which was in my pocket and realised forty-five minutes had already gone by. I walked back quickly and without incident, but found his truck wasn't there. I decided to wait outside and paced up and down. I wasn't particularly at ease, but I wasn't crapping myself either and about two minutes later Paul's truck pulled up. He jumped out and we hurried back up to the apartment and began packing my stuff. I hadn't really acquired anything new since I came here and in twenty minutes everything was in the truck. I locked up, put my keys in the mailbox and a moment later we were in the vehicle. It was only as we began to move away that I noticed Paul's hand on the steering wheel, the knuckles skinned and bruised, his shirt sleeves rolled up where they had been down before and what look like blood in one of the folds at his elbow.

"Is that blood?" I reached over and touched his arm.

"It's alright, it's not mine." He didn't look at me.

"What did you do?" I asked, my heart beginning to thump rapidly again.

"Don't ask me, ok?"

He'd gone after Perry; it didn't take a genius to work that out. I had said I met him in the diner my room mates and I went to regularly for brunch - on foot - so all he had to do was drive around a few minutes and he'd have found it. I had never been a violent person and wouldn't have hurt a fly if I could have avoided it, but after what I had been through thanks to Perry, I couldn't help a small smile.

"I hope you didn't hold back," I said.

Paul glanced sideways at me for a second and then grinned. "When have you ever known me to do that?"

Ten minutes later we were joining the freeway, leaving Portland behind and although I was still a little worried about telling Mom and Leah and everyone what happened, I began to feel excited at the same time and I smiled genuinely at last.

"You said you were going to tell me about a possible job for me," I reminded Paul as we drove.

"Yeah. Jake's still looking for a guy to work with him. I don't know if he said anything to you?"

"A couple times he mentioned he's got too much work to handle on his own and that he was planning to get someone," I said.

"Well, he hasn't actually done anything about it yet. Jared said he talked to one or two guys recently, but he seems to be uncomfortable about taking on someone older and having to be their boss. Maybe you could be like his apprentice or something, until you decide what you want."

Work for Jake? There was no maybe about it. If he didn't mind having to teach someone who was completely useless with a wrench, I would jump at it.

"I'll talk to him as soon as I get back," I said at once.

I asked him about his own business then and he told me it was doing great. His tattooing skills had improved massively and the two older artists he worked with taught him well. Marcus and Lily were both in their forties and Lily had actually taken on something of a mothering role as well since Paul's Dad died, spending a couple of evenings a week at the apartment cooking meals for him to ensure he didn't live on pizza and frozen dinners.

"She was there when you called," he added.

"I heard a woman say dinner was ready," I told him. "I thought it was maybe your Aunt."

"No, Aunt Pauline hasn't been over in a couple months. She seems to think I can manage to run things on my own now. She still does the books, though." He grinned. "My Math skills aren't the best." He yawned suddenly. "I'm going to need to stop for some coffee."

"You must have had a pretty early start," I said. He had arrived around eight-thirty.

"Yeah, I left about five-thirty and I didn't really sleep much before. Too busy wondering if you were ok. I guess I should have just driven over last night."

He yawned again and pulled off the freeway where a sign indicated there was a gas station and diner. He stopped briefly to put gas in the truck, then parked in front of the diner. It was already past eleven and I realised I was actually getting hungry so Paul ordered two coffees and brunch for us both.

As we ate the food, I found I couldn't take my eyes off him although I tried to keep my lashes lowered rather than make it too obvious. Both sets of knuckles were torn and bruised, but there wasn't a mark on him that I could see. He seemed to have grown more muscle than ever, his face ruggedly attractive and sporting a few days stubble and immediately all the feelings I had for him resurfaced and my pulse quickened.

Why had he really come running to Portland to see me, I wondered. Did he care for me? I remembered how he had seemed a little sad that I was leaving La Push; how he appeared to be surprised and disappointed when I left his house that morning; how gentle and considerate he was when we made love. Once that was in my head I couldn't stop thinking about it and I felt myself blushing furiously. Damnit. I put my knife and fork down, unable to manage the last few bites of food and grabbed my coffee mug instead. Stop looking at him; think about something else.

The waitress came over to ask if we wanted more coffee and Paul said no, requesting the check instead. By the time he finished paying I had managed to calm myself down, although I couldn't help longing for him to give me some sign he might like me the way I wanted him to.

The rest of the journey passed quickly and by two o'clock we were through Forks and on the last few miles of road leading to the reservation. I began to feel stupidly nervous about being back and suddenly wanted to delay my arrival home, my explanations to Mom and Leah and most of all, Paul dumping me at the door and driving away.

"Are you ok?" Paul asked and I realised he was glancing at me as he drove. I was chewing my lip and I suppose I must have looked as anxious as I felt. We were only minutes away from my house.

"Yeah." I took a deep breath. "Do you mind if we...um...go down to the beach first? I want to get myself together before I go and see everybody."

"Sure." Paul braked quickly and took a left turn which led the end of the beach nearest to his old house. "Are you worried about seeing them?"

"Maybe about telling them I quit."

"They'll understand though, when you tell them the whole story."

"Yeah, that'll go down well." I grinned suddenly. "Leah will probably go flying off to Portland to add to whatever you did to Perry."

Paul smirked and stopped the truck, turning off the engine. "I'm not so sure about that; Jared says that Mark guy turned her into a proper girl."

We climbed out of the truck and headed down to the beach. It was overcast and windy, more or less what you would expect for early April. No one else was in sight and we wandered along the sand, Paul looking relaxed and me feeling jumpy and nervous and wishing I had the guts to actually say something to him; ask him if he had ever thought about me or if he would want to see me now I was back.

"Why did you leave, really?" he asked suddenly and I turned my head quickly to look at him. "I mean, for college, last year," he added. "You jumped at a scholarship in football, which you don't even like; it seemed like you were running away from something."

"Um..." I immediately went red again. Should I just tell him the truth and risk looking like a fool again, like I did after he rescued me from Steve and Jason? I had been much younger then; just a stupid kid...

"Did you regret what happened between us?"

"No!" I exclaimed and stopped walking in surprise. He halted too and turned to look at me.

"You couldn't get out of my house fast enough," he added.

"I know. It was the hardest thing I ever did," I admitted. "You were upset over your Dad and I knew you had stuff to deal with. You said you couldn't make any promises so I thought it'd be easier for me to leave before you had to ask me to go. It was obvious you didn't want anything more than what happened."

Paul groaned. "That's just it, though, I did. I was a mess and I didn't want to fuck with you. I couldn't have handled a relationship right then and later I thought I'd just end up making you miserable. Your family would have hated you being with me and I didn't want to cause you grief. I've never been any good at anything except getting in trouble and I guess I thought you were out of my reach. Then when I heard you were aiming to go away to college I kept my distance even more. You had a chance of a good future away from La Push; I didn't want to spoil it for you."

"You thought I was out of reach?" I interrupted, almost laughing. "I was just a kid. I thought I didn't have a hope in hell of you really wanting me. I went to college because I didn't want to keep seeing you around when I couldn't be with you."

"Shit," Paul muttered and then grinned. "Our communication could probably use some work."

"So what now?" I asked. I could hardly believe my ears and now my stomach was full of butterflies and my heart thumping in excitement. He had wanted me? Did he still?

"That depends on you, doesn't it?" Paul said.

"I..."

I didn't know what to say. All the times I had imagined he would let me know he felt something for me, wanted to be with me, and now he was doing just that and I was lost for words so I didn't say anything. After a moment's hesitation I stepped closer, rested my hands on his chest and brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth. Immediately his arms slid around me and he pulled me against him, turning his head a fraction so that his lips touched mine. They caressed briefly, gently and then he broke the kiss and just hugged me. I pressed my face into his neck and closed my eyes, amazed and overwhelmed that this was actually happening. Finally, after more than three years, I had what I really wanted.