I met 17 year old Jacob Black the following week. Isabella brought him to the coffee shop after school to finish working on their project. He dressed nice enough - jeans and a sweater over a button down shirt; his jet black hair shaggy and falling into his eyes. I resisted asking what his intentions with my daughter were, instead inquiring as to his plans after high school. Jake smiled, telling me he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and become a mechanic. He was polite and respectful; called me 'sir' and shook my hand. It was hard to find fault with the guy.

But I did.

Too preppy.

Too tall.

Needed a haircut.

Big, overly-bleached teeth.

As he and I stood at the counter talking, Isabella grabbed a table.

And then it happened - his eyes drifted over and he checked out her ass. My. Daughter's. Ass. Seriously?

"Are you okay, Mr. Cullen?"

"Huh?" I shook my head.

"You just growled. Are you okay?

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm fine."

Fucker.

That should've been my red flag that Jacob Black would be the bane of my existence. But I decided to cut him some slack because, once upon a time, I was a teenager, too. I wasn't ballsy enough to check out my girlfriend's ass in front of her dad, mind you. Oh wait. There was the small issue of me knocking up a girl after a one night stand.

With an ice water for him and a sweet tea for her, they sat at a table by the front window. There they worked steadily on the project for an hour and a half. I watched them the whole time, trying to read into their relationship. Unfortunately, I was staring at the back of their heads which gave me nothing to go on - although it did reinforce my opinion that the boy needed a haircut.

"What's up?" Emmett asked as he came to stand beside me.

"That's 'science project' boy. Jake." I nodded in their direction. He watched with me, arms folded across his broad chest, looking ready to pounce if Jake tried anything funny, which wouldn't be funny at all. After five minutes or so, Emmett seemed to get bored.

"It looks innocent enough. I wouldn't worry it until you have to."

Isabella approached us, huge grin on her face.

"Jake's offered to take me home. He's got his bike out front."

"He wants to double you home on the back of his bike?" I chuckled.

Loser.

"His motorbike, but yes."

I choked on my coffee and Emmett shook his head vigorously.

"You can take that as a no," he replied on my behalf.

"Hell no!" I managed to sputter.

"Your dad was just about to leave, weren't you, Edward? He'll walk you home instead."

Isabella's smile faded slightly but she didn't protest as she went back to Jake.

The two of them stood there talking, Isabella with her backpack slung over one shoulder, fingers toying with the strap and him with his hands shoved into the front pocket of his jeans. They weren't touching, and there was adequate space between them, yet I felt the overwhelming urge to pull them apart.

Whenever Jake moved, Isabella seemed to mirror him. His hand pulled through his hair and Isabella ran her fingers through the length of hers. He laughed and Isabella smiled - one of those smiles that made her eyes crinkle. It was as though I was watching them in slow motion, every frame a well-coordinated dance. There was something about them which equally captivated and worried the fuck out of me.

Isabella walked Jake outside and the sound of the bell above the door made me shake my head out of the trance.

Emmett turned to me as I shrugged into my coat. "Okay, you can probably worry about it now."

...

"So, uh, Jake seems nice enough," I said using my most casual tone once we got home. I started dinner prep while Isabella set the table for us.

"Uh huh."

I grabbed a head of lettuce out of the fridge to make a salad. "Still nothing significant to report?" I waited not-so-patiently for her response.

"He, um...Jake kissed me today. After school. And again when we were leaving the cafe."

I ripped the lettuce off the head forcibly, wishing it were Jake's fat head I were ripping off his body. Isabella didn't notice.

"He kissed you. Huh."

Asshole.

I glanced over at my daughter. She had her fingers pressed to her lips. I set the lettuce aside. Dinner could wait; I was suddenly no longer hungry.

"I think we need to have a little chat." I sat down at the table.

Isabella froze, her eyes bulging out.

"What? No, please don't do this. It was one kiss. One!" She held up a finger to make her point.

"Technically it was two," I corrected.

"I get how it all works," Isabella's hands flailed about. "So, see, we really don't need to have this conversation."

I wasn't reassured by the fact she knew the mechanics of it, although I was certainly glad I didn't have to explain the play by play of how that goes in there.

"Actually, we do. Because kissing is fun and the … other stuff … is fun. It all leads to … more, uh...fun stuff. Have a seat."

God, I couldn't even use grown up words. This was going to be painful for both of us.

"I know about the fun stuff," Isabella huffed as she sat down.

I choked on her words. "You know? Like know know?"

Thank God Isabella answered quickly because I was holding my breath until she did.

"Not from personal experience." Her face was flaming. "Leah told me."

"Leah? Are Leah and Sam...are they….?" I couldn't imagine Isabella's sweet and seemingly innocent best friend being sexually active.

My daughter nodded. "You cannot tell her parents! Promise me. She'd kill me!"

"I promise. I won't say a word." I made a criss cross motion across my chest. "So, what does Leah say about it?"

"I dunno. That it feels good. We don't really get into specifics."

That it feels good. Ugh.

Thanks for nothing, Leah.

"You, uh...shit. Youknowyoucanmakeyourselffeelgood, right?"

Word vomit spewed out before I could stop myself. Immediately, I wanted to snatch those words back from where they hung in the air.

Fuck.

What if Isabella had no idea what I was talking about? I didn't know at what age girls started … doing that. I scratched my head, hoping I wouldn't have to explain the how-to on that one. What words would I even use? I didn't even know if it was pronounced clit-or-us or clit-or-is. Should I just call it a love button? Nub?

Maybe I should shut the fuck up and cue a movie on my laptop. I highly doubted that would win me father of the year, though at this point I clearly wasn't in the running at all.

Should I admit that I … engaged in …. that regularly or would it only make things weird? Who the fuck was I kidding? It was already totally fucking weird. Where the hell was Rosalie when I needed her?

Thankfully, Isabella blushed even more which I took to mean she understood. And I wasn't sure how I felt about that either, but whatever.

"Okay, that's good. It's normal to….I mean, I do…on occasion."

Or three/four times a week.

Isabella's head smacked down on the kitchen table as she groaned.

"So, you've kissed other boys?" I asked casually, as if simply making conversation.

Her head, still planted on the table, nodded.

"Have you… so uh, what base have you gotten to?"

She made a noise that sounded like a cow dying a slow, torturous death. I knew the feeling. She raised two fingers in the shape of a V. It was supposed to symbolize victory and peace. I felt anything but peaceful.

"For someone who hasn't played baseball in quite a while, second base would be…?" I couldn't believe I had to ask my kid what the bases were. Pretty certain I was more mortified than she was at that point.

Isabella lifted her head, leaving her hair partially covering her red face. "Gah! Dad! Can't you Google it or something?"

I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed my question into Yahoo.

What's considered first, second, third base?

Thanks to my fast internet speed, there wasn't time for me to brace for the answer.

The four F's. First: French. Second: Fondling. Third: Fingering/Fellatio. Home: Fuck.

Fuck was right. Fuck me. And fuck you, Yahoo.

I cleared my throat. "You know it's okay to wait, right? Sixteen is awfully young to be...rushing into things."

"You and Mom didn't wait."

There it was the question that was sixteen years in the making. Touche.

"You're right. We didn't. We were young and stupid and made a mistake. Not that I'm calling you a mistake. Because you, pretty girl," I held her chin in my hand. "You're the best thing I never knew I wanted. But having a kid at eighteen was hard. It still is."

"No offense, but I'm not stupid. I know where to buy condoms and how to correctly put them on. Health class, ya know?"

"Great." Just fucking great. Thanks a lot, public education.

"I had a condom available that night, too, but…"

"But apparently you didn't use it." Her eyebrow raised.

Smart ass.

"Anyway. One time was all it took."

Me and my super sperm.

"What would you do if you got pregnant?"

Besides die because I'd kill you. And him. Definitely him, too.

"First of all, today was just one kiss. Okay, two. Please remember that. I'm not going to hump him tomorrow."

Hearing my daughter use the word 'hump' was wrong. Very, very wrong. I almost threw up in my mouth.

"And second, if I did get pregnant, you'd help me out. You're my dad."

I snorted hearing my own words reverberated back at me from my child. "I can barely handle the kid I have."

"I don't think this is a big deal." Isabella protested.

"Fine, maybe a kiss or two isn't, but sex is. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise or pressure you into doing it. Contrary to what guys may say, blue balls are not fatal."

I should know.

"Blue balls? Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. Just know it won't kill a guy if he doesn't get laid. And it's perfectly fine to say no - at any point. You don't need to have sex to keep a guy. Ever."

I couldn't tell her that too many times.

"Had I known my telling you about a kiss would result in this, I would've kept my mouth shut."

I stretched my arm across the table and held her hand. "Hey. I know this is uncomfortable and incredibly weird, but we need to be able to talk about this stuff. Being intimate with someone can be even more uncomfortable than this. Trust me."

Isabella tilted her head in confusion. "Why?"

"Having someone else see all your flaws and imperfections? Having to maneuver your way around the back seat of a car..." I shuddered at the memory of my first time.

Jessica and I crammed in the back of her Honda Civic; my too-tall and gangly body twisted awkwardly. One of my knees was jammed by the emergency brake, the other in the back footwell. Jess had to guide me in because I wasn't quite hitting the mark. Afterward, I had no idea how to get rid of the used condom or where to put it. I ended up shoving it in my pants pocket. Nasty.

I looked at my daughter and we were both making the same disgusted face.

"Why would anyone do it then?"

"Sex can be as beautiful as it can be awkward," I explained softly.

Tori taught me about making love. More often than not, it was just sex between us. There were a handful of times, though, where I lost my heart in the moment. When, in the aftermath, tears stung my eyes because the emotional connection was too surreal for words. It hurt remembering those moments with Tori because it was a type of love I wasn't privy to. The sort of love my parents shared, one I'd only had a glimpse of and wanted more of.

"All I'm asking is you not rush into anything."

"Can you trust me to make the right decisions? I'm not a baby anymore."

"But you're my baby. I trust you but not 16 and 17 year old boys. I once was one, remember?"

Disgusting, rotten, vile, porn watching, masturbating pigs.

"Can we call it a night? I have homework." We both knew it was bullshit but I nodded and let her go.

"Isabella? One more thing."

She rolled her eyes. "What now?"

"I want to get to know this Jake character."

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Isabella smiled. "You'll like him."

"I'm sure I will." I lied.

And so began the Isabella 'hearts' Jacob chapter of our life. Barf.


Week after week you blow me away with your kindness via reviews, PMs, and FB posts. Thank you all so much. The fabulous Honeybee Meadows helped me so much with this chapter and Capricorn75 made it look pretty. Love you both.