Hey everyone! Please enjoy chapter 11, one of my faves so far:) A huge thanks to all the readers and reviewers!


Scarlett's POV

"Hey you."

Paul Lahote rests against the locker next to mine, and my eyes widen in surprise. I am temporarily tempted to hug him, but then I remember that I am, in fact, in school, and my fellow peers are, in fact, watching.

"Didn't we already establish that school is a no speaking zone?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

He smiles widely and then shakes his head. God, why does that have to look so adorable? "No, you did."

"Yeah, well, the last time you talked to me in front of your prior escapades I got a shower."

Paul laughs. "You're going to Jake's bonfire tonight, right?"

I smile, I just can't help it. "Of course. What else would I do with my Friday night?"

"Go to the football game?" He suggests with a wide grin.

"Definitely not," I grumble, but that has more to do with me overhearing a conversation earlier this week about trying to 'hit up the football coach for some 1-on-1 lessons." Gag.

"You okay?" He asks.

"I'm thinking about joining the soccer team," I say, changing the subject.

"Oh," Paul nods his head. "Think you'll wear pants this time?"

I roll my eyes.

In the week since the whole "glass breaking" incident, Paul and I have been better than ever. We are weirdly comfortable, we're kind of like… friends? He texts me and I respond, nothing crazy but we still keep a conversation going throughout the day, and then during the week he has come over a few times and helped me, okay maybe made me dinner, and then once we went to the beach, not that anything like what happened in the water the first time happened again, though.

"I was actually thinking of starting a strip-soccer league."

"Very interested," Paul smiles devilishly.

"What are you so interested in?" I tease. I lean forward, close to him, close enough so that his grin drops and his eyes shift to my lips. "You've already seen half the student body naked."

I slam my locker and then giggle as I begin walking away.

I wince as I am sure everyone can hear him call down the hall. "See you later, Scar!"

If anyone thinks that he was him just trying to be nice there, and that he wasn't purposefully calling out to me with our future plans whilst using the nickname he penned for me for the entire school to hear, than you just don't know Paul Lahote.


A few hours and some homework later, I am walking up to Jake's bonfire with Nessie Cullen.

"You seriously need to break glass more often," She says for about the tenth time."

I nervously look around to make sure no one can hear; thankfully we are out of hearing distance. "I seriously have no idea what you find so sexy about him yelling at me," I mumble.

"Not the yelling at you," She corrects me, flipping her golden brown hair over her shoulder as she does so, "The hugging you and calling you 'baby girl' part though, whew I am heated."

I roll my eyes. "How did you even hear that," I grumble.

"Oh!" She smacks my arm and I debate pushing her down. "The best was, 'I wanted to hold you Scar!' Dear God I didn't know Paul had it in him. Actually, now that I think about it, I feel like he's always been very vocal like that."

"I seriously need to get you a muzzle."

"Oh, by the way, you're free next weekend, right?"

"Why?" I hold out the word; Renesmee Cullen asking this question is much scarier than any other ordinary person.

"For my birthday," She rolls her eyes.

I have to contemplate this for a moment. "Isn't your birthday in like a month?"

"Awe," She smiles over at me. "You remembered!" I roll my eyes. "Yes but we're taking the trip early because everyone's schedule matches up."

"Trip?"

"Yeah," She smiles widely. "I just got you a ticket yesterday actually."

I frown. "Ticket?"

She nods her tiny, little head. "Florida."

"Florida?"

"Would you please stop repeating everything I say," She speaks finally. "Very annoying."

"What is going on?" I can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief.

"I've had my birthday trip planned since before I met you- sorry. We're going to Florida for the weekend."

My mouth opens. "Florida?"

"Yes Scarlett," She sighs. "We have been through this already.

"But," My voice falters. "Why? When? How? I- I don't even think I can afford that right now."

"I already said I bought your ticket, silly. I'm not about to invite people on an 18th birthday trip and then expect them to pay for it! Gosh what kind of monster do you think I am?" She laughs, I remain silent. "But anyways, Jacob and Seth and Embry and Jared and Quil were coming, and then Paul was being his usual self and said no, but now since I said you were coming he's coming now so I bought his ticket yesterday too. Oh, and Kim's coming as well so it'll be fun!"
I think my blood turns to ice.

"I-,"

"Non-refundable ticket!" She squeaks before I can protest.

I blink a few times.

"Alright so," She says as she loops her arm around mine and begins practically dragging me. "Should I restart your heart or are you going to be okay?"

I actually roll my eyes at that one. "I just would have preferred for you to ask me is all."

Now she is the one to roll her eyes at me. "You're not busy, are you?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She giggles. "You should be thanking me. You can share a room with Paul."

My eyes bulge. "What?" I giggle nervously.

"I feel like he would be like super sensual in the bedroom."

My cheeks blush, but differently because I am with Renesmee; I am able to let my curiosity known and not be as embarrassed as I usually would. "You think?" I whisper.

"Totally," She nods her head. "Like he would definitely be very vocal."

"That's kind of super hot," I giggle.

"I bet he'd be generous too," She lets out a giggle of her own.

I burst into laughter, my cheeks heating up bright red just at what she is insinuating, but then reach for her hands and attempt to quiet us both down, for surely they can hear us laughing from here.

"Is that what Jacob's like?" I ask with a sly smile.

I honestly wish this girl would flush, but seriously I think nothing short of watching her have sex would embarrass her. "Jacob's very vocal after," She sighs in bliss, just thinking about it."

"I can't believe you're not a virgin anymore," I giggle like a little school-girl. "Did it hurt?"

"Too much," She moans.

I burst into laughter just as Jacob wraps his arms around Nessie's back. "What's so funny?" He asks, kissing her neck sloppily.

I roll my eyes; they really aren't shy with their constant PDA.

"Alright, alright, save it for the bedroom Jake."

What's funny, is that Jake is actually the one to blush. I shake my head and walk off towards the actual fire. I chuckle to myself while thinking about what Renemsee said about him being a virgin; she said he lasted about five seconds, and then he lasted about ten seconds, and then fifteen, and then she was just kind of annoyed because she went through all that pain for about a total of thirty seconds of stimulation; the way she said it still makes me laugh.

Even though I know I shouldn't be thinking like this, I just can't help but contemplate how Paul wouldn't have any of those problems; he is far from pure. Renesmee had then joked that he would know what he was doing though.

Whew- I am getting heated.

Honestly, I shouldn't even been thinking about this- only, I can't not. We've been kissing; not often, not sensual, not flashing red hot sex or anything like that, but when he was leaving my house he kissed me both times, quickly and softly but sweetly, and then he brushed the hair out of my eyes and called me "baby girl" and I think I died a little both times. And honestly, when he's kissing me and calling me that, I can't not think about sex with him.

"Hey Scarlett," Emily calls a few feet away with a small wave.

I wave at her and smile openly; Emily is just a warm person, and not temperature wise like Paul.

"Hi Em," I blush just a little at the nickname. Everyone else calls her it, so I thought I would just start, and even though she doesn't make any reaction to it, I still feel kind of uncomfortable. "Have you seen Paul?"

Shit. I try to hide a wince.

I really need to start engaging people in causal conversation and asking about their lives before I just go jumping into Paul.

"I think he's in the back getting some more wood with Sam and Embry," She smiles.

I nod my head. "How's little Sam?"

Emily smiles just a little bit brighter and I can't help but stare; is it just natural to love your child that much? If not, how does it happen? I would like to ask her, to realize if my case was just a distorted gene or chromosome or something, but I think that may be a little weird. "He is at home with the babysitter, hopefully asleep by the time we get back," She laughs.

I chuckle. "Well that's good. I need to meet that little guy."

"Definitely," She nods her head. "You need to come over for dinner. Paul keeps you all to himself."

I roll my eyes. "Paul doesn't have anything to keep for anyone."

"Ugh!" Em smiles so brightly it makes me laugh. "We so appreciate you!"

I giggle, although I am not really sure what that means.

I hear a whistle and then turn in the direction of what I somehow know is going to be Paul. He is walking back with Sam and Embry, though I don't see any firewood in their hands. I can't help but stare.

God, Paul is so perfect. Those muscles and that jawline and just how freaking big he is. I bite the corner of my lip.

I totally forget about Emily as I begin walking towards him.

Once I am halfway there I notice Paul notice me and then bite my lip to keep from smiling too wide as he calls out to me.

"Scarlett O'Hara?"

"Very funny," I say, though I doubt they heard me. I shake my head towards the ground just so I will have another place to look.

When I look up again they are closer than I expected, but I guess they really do have ridiculously long legs because of their height. As soon as they reach me I don't even have time to say hi to any of them before Paul engulfs me in a bear hug.

"Scarlett!" He speaks in a ridiculously happy voice I don't really think I have ever heard him use before. He quickly scratches my back a few times before pulling me away and then kissing me suddenly. I stiffen at the movement, so sudden and sure and unexpected, but then I melt into him; of course it doesn't last as long as I want it to.

"Hi," I speak, breathless now.

"Hi," He repeats, and spins me around in the air once.

I squeal and he sets me down sloppily and then kisses me again, cupping my cheek between his hand as I stumble back from being just a little bit dizzy.

"Paul," I giggle and pull away.

"What sexy?" He pulls me close to his chest with a goofy, wide grin and I can't help my mouth from dropping. Paul has insinuated it before, that is for sure, but he has never outright called me sexy. I think I may faint. Yet standing here in the dark with the faintest hint of fire illuminating his perfect jawline, I can't help myself anymore.

I wrap my arms around his neck and smile shyly as I press my face up to his. Paul kisses me softly at first, but then he presses himself closer, and all the lightness is immediately sucked out of me, literally.

Paul's mouth moves feverishly against my own, and then I feel his hand, strong and hot and defined, trailing up my thigh; I honestly don't even care if anyone can look towards the woods and see us. My body is shaking with desire; I have honestly never felt this before. I want more but I have no idea what; all that I know is that I need, want, have to have more, right now.

I open my mouth and then Paul's tongue slides inside, almost like it was waiting for me. I gasp just barely as our tongues glide against each other and we kiss in an entirely different way; he tastes oddly sweet, spicy even, but there is something else that that I can't quite place, all I know is that it's strong. Paul's hand rubs my hip and I press myself closer to him. I have to break after a few more seconds because I honestly feel like I can't breathe anymore.

I rest my mouth against his as we breathe deeply together. I take a long inhale, and then my entire body freezes.

Paul's breath reeks of Whiskey.

But not just any whiskey.

His whiskey.

Paul's lips travel a trail from my mouth to my neck and then they begin sucking on a spot between my collarbone and ear that is definitely more sensitive. It would feel amazing if I wasn't terrified.

Something about smelling that whiskey, about inhaling it like that, I can't, I just- I know that if I don't get out of here I will have a panic attack.

His hand snakes down my thigh and I wince. "Paul," I mutter, my voice quiet and quick and weak.

He kisses my neck again and I actually cringe.

"Paul," I speak again, my voice just a little bit louder and more frantic this time.

His palm is sturdy and hard as he rubs it up the back of my thigh.

"Paul," I whimper, and in a rush of adrenaline shove his chest back.

Finally he jumps away.

His eyes are wide as his mouth hangs open.

Paul reaches for me but I pull my hand away quickly. I take a shaking step back and then try to speak but my breaths are becoming fast and panicked; I need to get out of here.

I turn on my heel and tuck my arms around myself in order to hold everything together. I need some space. I need to be alone. I need to get out of here.

I walk back towards the fire, but to the side, away from the people and the noise and God I need to be alone because I am beginning to not be able to breathe.

Please don't do this right now Scarlett.

I am screaming at myself but it isn't working.

Stop thinking, I instruct myself. I know that if I want to prevent this panic attack that I have to stop. I must stop trying to actually make it go away.

I focus on my breathing.

Focus on not crying.

Focus on breathing so much, that I barely even hear Paul as he calls after me.

"Scarlett!" He calls, and then I swear I hear other voices and other feet and other people asking me what is wrong but I can't hear them I can't breathe I can only walk, walk, walk.

I feel something wet slide down my cheek and then I realize I am crying, but I can't see, I can't think, I can't breathe.

My vision gets blurry and I suck in a panicked breath.

No.

I can't tell if I am crying or about to collapse.

I make it to the road and then I keep going. Keep walking. Keep going, going, going.

I am not sure how long I make it before I have to drop. I let my body fall to the pavement as graceful as I possibly can. I tuck my legs close to my chest and let my head drop between them. I squeeze it together and will myself will myself will myself to stop.

I take slow, deep breaths.

Slow, deep breaths.

Slow, deep breaths.

He isn't here.

He isn't here.

Paul isn't him.

Paul isn't him.

Slow, deep breaths.

I can breathe again.

I slowly pick my head back up and let my legs fall onto the pavement. I still focus on my breathing as I look around, suddenly aware of my surroundings for the first time.

I actually made it pretty far.

Although I can still see Jacob's small, red house in the distance, the one Renesmee told me used to technically be his dad's before he moved out and got a condo, I can't make out any faces.

No one followed me.

I can't tell if I am more relieved than terrified.

I seriously can't believe that I just did that. I am so upset at myself that it bleeds into being upset with Paul too; why the hell did he have to do that? I know that the whiskey freaked me out, that he probably couldn't have known too, but he was all over me.

I need to get out of here.

Before taking another glance at the red house, I start my journey back home, quickly this time.

I half expect Paul to follow me, though that doesn't make it any less terrible. I need space. I need a second to catch my breath away from him and all his friends and this weird reason that I still don't understand, as to why I let him make me feel this much. I need to be alone.

A few minutes later I hear a car pull up next to me but choose to ignore it, hoping that he will get the message and just leave me alone, only, it follows slowly next to me.

"Scarlett."

I hear a voice call through the car, and turn in surprise to the tone that is definitely not Paul's. Embry sits in the driver's seat, his face tilted towards the open window as one hand rests on the steering wheel.

I ignore him and cross my arms overtop of my chest as I continue forward. Why can't anyone just understand that I want to be alone right now?

"Scarlett," He calls again, his car glued to me.

"Go away Embry," I mutter loud enough for him to hear.

"Get in."

I shake my head and continue forward.

"Scarlett, come on," Embry pleads.

"Can you just leave me alone?" I finally explode. "I don't understand why all of you can't just leave me alone!"

The tears that have been condensing in the corners of my eyes finally spill over, and I angrily swipe at my cheeks, annoyed that I allowed myself to cry in front of him.

"Scarlett, I know the guy's an idiot, okay? I'm his best friend; I know. Would you just get in the car?"

"No," I answer immediately. I start walking again, and am not even surprised when he trails the car next to me.

"Look, I had to hold him back from running after you and slinging you overtop of his shoulder. I know you need space, but I'm not about to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night."

"Why not?" I try to keep my voice as even and unaffected as possible.

"Because you don't need to be alone right now."

I can't help but laugh. "That's honestly all I want to be."

"Get in."

"Just stop it Embry," I speak hastily.

"I'm not letting you walk home alone."

"I'm not going home," I say, and suddenly I realize that I wouldn't even be able to go home if I wanted to; I don't have a home.

"Than I'll take you to wherever you want to go and then wait in the car."

Curiosity overcomes me; I tilt my head to catch Embry staring at me with a passive expression.

"Why do you care?" I ask slowly.

"Would you just get in?" He stops the car and then leans over to open the passenger door from the inside. I stare at the now open door with absolutely no intention of getting in. "Come on," Embry sighs. "There's literally not a chance in hell you're going to be walking around alone in the pitch black."

I would honestly rather die than step one foot into that car.

I take a step forward.

Embry's truck is different than Paul's; smaller and less flashly, less shiny things and a lot more noise. I usher into the passenger's seat and close the door behind me. I rest my head against the door and close my eyes for a moment, as I hear the engine roar to life as Embry pulls away.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice sounding numb, even to my own ears.

"That depends; where were you going before?"

"I wasn't going anywhere," I sigh. "I was just walking."

"Than we'll just drive."

I purse my lips. I have never experienced this before, this whole selfless act that Embry is partaking in. The more I think about it, the more I realize that this is a terrible idea. As much as I may like Embry, I truly do not know him, and now I am in a car with him in the middle of the night after he basically told me I have no other choice, driving off to the middle of nowhere.

My joints tense.

Defending myself was never my strong suit.

"Maybe you should just take me home," I squeak, quieter than I would have wished. I was hoping that I would be able to keep my fear on the down low, but just my voice is enough to alert Embry that something is wrong.

What follows is a brief period of extended silence, which only makes me more nervous. I begin twiddling with my fingers in my lap. It has been so long since anyone has hurt me; I know I can handle it, but I just don't necessarily know if I am prepared. I am more nervous than I usually get.

"You asked why I care," Embry begins, his voice deep and shocking in the quietness of my mind. "That's why."

Surprised, I look over at him out of the corner of my eye. "What's why?"

"You think everyone is going to hurt you."

My breath catches in the back of my throat as I blink rapidly a few times, sure that I am breathing. How had he even noticed? I make eye contact with him for just a second, but it is enough for him to nod his head and then for me to quickly look down at my feet.

My words sound numb even to myself; I don't even recognize my own voice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Embry looks out the side of his window for a moment before turning back to face the road. He doesn't respond, and I don't have any inclination to speak any further.

"You know Paul's mom kicked his dad out because he used to hit her."

An invisible fire immediately begins spreading through my veins. I feel all the color drain my cheeks.

He knows.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask blandly, trying to make sure that I keep any and all emotion out of my voice.

"Because," Embry sighs and then looks over at me, "You can tell him, you know. He'll understand."

"Tell him what?"

Embry gives me a condescending look and I gulp. "Come on, Scar."

My jaw tenses. "Don't call me that."

He actually looks offended. "Why not? Everyone else does."

"I don't even know you," I cross my arms overtop of my chest.

Embry rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever Scarlett."

I scrunch my forehead together in sudden confusion. "Well, don't get mad at me."

"You just told me we're not friends; why do you care?"

I roll my eyes. "You're being dramatic."

Embry laughs, and when I narrow my eyes at him he holds his hands up in a sort of sign of peace. "I'm sorry; I just don't think I've ever been called dramatic by anyone before."

I roll my eyes once again and try to press my lips tightly together to keep from laughing. Why am I laughing?

"Ugh!" I smack my hands against the seat and then angrily cross my arms again and sink down low into the seat. "This is so stupid!"

"What is?" He questions.

"Just, this! Why do I care so much about him? And why do I like his friends so much."

Embry shoots me a sly smile. "So you like me now?"

"Focus, Embry."

He sighs. "You know you could just stop fighting it and admit to yourself that you like the guy."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Just a thought," He clarifies.

"I don't even know if I like him though," I mumble.

Embry actually laughs. "Oh come on. Scar, anyone with eyes can see that you're crazy about the guy."

"How?" I exclaim. Embry looks at me like I am certifiable due to my sudden outburst. "Seriously," I continue, "How? How can you possibly see that? I want to know!"

"Alright," Embry sighs. "For one you blush every time the dude is in a five mile radius."

"I do not!" I exclaim.

"Yeah you do," Embry corrects me. "And you flirt with him… a lot."

"I do not flirt with him!" I gasp, actually offended.

"Okay, say I believe you; want to explain the kissing now too or are you claiming amnesia on that too?"

I honestly believe I turn into an actual tomato. "You are such an asshole."

"Because I'm not playing into your idiocracy like Nessie?"

"I-wha-ugh! You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Hey," Embry perks up. "Remember when you gave me your number over Paul?"

I blink at him a few times. "You're nuts."

"I think you mean nice," He sighs. "Want some ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"Yeah, ever heard of it? It's basically cold ice that you flavor with,"

I smack his arm.

"Ouch! What the heck?"

"I know what ice cream is Embry! Just take me home."

"But I want ice cream."

"But I want to go home."

"Aren't we just a princess now?"

"Embry," I finally moan, and my frustration suddenly comes out in the form of an extremely frustrated cry. "I just had a very public freak-out. I am tired. I am cold. And I want to go home."

I bite the inside of my cheek and will myself not to cry again. God, I am such a walking ball of emotions today.

Embry reaches into the back seat and because I hadn't been expecting the movement, I lurch away from him as my muscles suddenly tense. I am as rigid as a board as I close my eyes and shake my head. What the hell is wrong with me? Paul's best friend isn't about to hurt me.

"Ugh, sorry," He mumbles quietly. I ignore him. "Here." Embry drops something huge and black into my lap and I stare down at it in confusion. After a second I just barely pick it up with my fingertips and hold it out in front of me.

"It's just a sweatshirt," Embry chuckles.

I drop it back into my lap. "Why?"

Embry gives me an annoyed and impatient expression. "Would you just put it on you psyco? Paul may murder me if he sees you in it so I am basically risking my own life to make sure you're warm."

I bite the corner of my lip but then do as I am told. As I slip the sweatshirt overtop of my head, what I immediately notice is how it doesn't smell like Paul. Embry doesn't smell bad, he just doesn't smell intoxicating like Paul does; for some reason, it makes me wish that it was Paul's sweatshirt.

"Embry?" I begin, my voice quieter and not holding any of my previous hostility.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I overreacted with Paul earlier?" I ask, although I know that I did.

It actually takes him a moment to form a response, which surprises me due to how bunt he has been throughout this entire, odd car ride.

"I think," Embry begins, holding out the words for too long for it not to annoy me. "I can't judge your reactions because I react differently to things than you do."

"So how would you have reacted?"

He raises his eyebrows at me. "If Paul had tried to feel me up? Yeah I think I would have tried to kill the guy."

I roll my eyes but can't help but laugh. "You are ridiculous," I giggle.

Embry smiles at me, and I suddenly realize what he has been doing this whole time; Paul's funny and quite frank best friend has somehow managed to break me from my depressed, self-loathing mood and did it without me even noticing.

"I don't get why you all like me so much." My eyes widen at my statement that I hadn't even meant to say out loud.

He lets out a long sigh. "We actually don't." He nods his head slowly. "Trust me you're not that special."

I giggle and roll my eyes.

"But seriously," Embry's voice takes on a more serious tone. "You're great, Scar, and you're great for Paul too. I think that's probably what it is; you're too good for him, but you're good for him, does that make sense?"

"Not at all," I sigh.

Embry smiles a knowing smile at me, though I pretend not to notice. "Whatever you say."

Embry winds up taking us through a drive-through to get ice cream, and then driving me home. Although by the end we were engaging in casual conversation, I still feel slightly uncomfortable at the surprising act of selflessness; I don't understand it. Why hadn't he just let me walk home? It's not that I'm complaining, it's just that I am seriously confused.

"Alright," I sigh once he finally cuts the engine in my driveway. "Thanks for driving me."

"For driving you?" Embry laughs. "How about for accepting verbal abuse from you, multiple accounts of rudeness, paying for your food, ruining my Friday night."

"You know what you are such a jerk," I shake my head but wind up laughing. Embry joins in and I realize again that if I wasn't so entirely and completely obsessed with Paul I probably would like him.

"I take back my thank you," I roll my eyes as I step out of the truck.

"Welcome!" He calls out as I close the door. He waits until I am inside before he leaves.

I sigh once I see his taillights disappear down the road and then begrudgingly pull myself up to my room.

I feel stupid.

I feel embarrassed.

But I also feel like in all the reenactments and possible scenarios that keep running through my head, there is honestly no other way that I can imagine reacting. As odd as it sounds, when Embry said whatever the hell it had been about "I can't judge how you reacted because I react differently," it actually makes sense.

I just feel like I could beat myself up over how I reacted, or I could admit to myself that that is the only way in which I know how to react. The truth is that I got scared, I got freaked out because he was drunk and because big, drunk men scare me and he was touching me and I panicked; I just wish that it wasn't in front of some of the only friends that I have.

I need a bath.

And a new personality.

And way less problems.

I sigh as I make my way up to my bedroom; today is really testing my patience; what had started as an exciting Friday night with Renesmee offering to bring me on freaking vacation ended in me crying in front of a huge group of people and running away in a moment of pure immaturity; no one probably even wants me to go anymore.

I make it only halfway up the staircase when there is a knock at the door.

My heart stops beating all-together.

It's him.

I am not sure how I know this, or why my mind immediately comes to this bizarre conclusion; I haven't heard from him in all the time I have been living in Forks; no calls, no texts, no checking up; nothing but complete silence, and I think that's why I know it has to be him- he would never just let me go that easily.

My feet hover on the staircase as I try to force my brain that has completely stopped working into action. I know I need to do something; to run, to lock myself in the bathroom or grab a weapon of some sort, no that that ever worked out, but I don't… I can't. I am stuck in a state of limbo in which I know I need to act but I am convincing myself that if I just wait long enough I will be proven wrong and then I won't need to do anything to protect myself.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and it causes me to jump back due to my state of hypersensitivity. I grab it out of my back pocket with shaking hands, nearly dropping it in the process, and then nearly press end in order to silence it; I'm not sure how he does it, but I swear sometimes he can hear things even from miles away.

Paul's name flashes across my screen. My response is so confusing because I honestly am so confused by it, but I don't even have to think; I greedily swipe to answer the only person that I want to help me.

"Paul," I speak, breathless, still not fully able to speak yet.

"Scarlett," He responds, his voice sounding semi-relieved but more-so upset. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry; could you please let me in?"

I drop the phone as every muscle in my body has the ability to relax. Oh my God. I let my back fall against the wall and hold my palm to my chest like some terrible Lifetime movie; it is Paul at the door.

It is not him.

I takes me about five deep breaths until I feel alive again.

Finally, I reach down and pick up my phone, hitting off before I even explain myself, and then open the door.

Paul nearly falls on top of me as I open the door, having not expected the movement, but then once he recovers, I think I may be more worried about him than before.

He looks terrible. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are red and he is sweating, like, really, really sweating. He doesn't have a shirt on, not that I am complaining, and something happened to his shoes too, and he keeps rubbing his forehead like he is searching for words and hoping to just rub the sentences right into his head.

"Ugh," I can't help but stammer. "Are you okay?"

"Did I hurt you?" Paul grabs my shoulders and I gasp and jump back.

"Shit!" He yells and I cringe again. "I did it again."

I hear a howl off in the distance and quickly go to shut the front door with a shaking hand; I wouldn't want wild wolves to come in in the midst of all this shit.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Paul moans at the door. I look from him to the wood, and then back at him with a worried expression; I think he's having a nervous breakdown.

"Paul," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Scarlett," His shoulders slump and that crazed look that had been in his eyes only moments ago completely dissolves as something else entirely fills his features. I am momentarily mesmerized by the emotion that I see behind his deep, green eyes. "I am so sorry, baby girl."

I melt into a puddle on the hallway floor.

"Y-you're sorry?" I question, my voice quieter than I would have liked. Although I hadn't confronted the slight panic in my chest until now, I realize that I had been just as worried about Paul realizing that I am way more emotionally damaged than he bargained for and not liking me anymore.

"Of course I am," He shakes his head at me in wonder. "I scared the shit out of you."

I bite the corner of my lip. "Well," I hold out the word; he did, but not for the reason that he thinks.

"Ugh," He rubs the top of his head roughly and then shakes his head again, harder this time. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so fucking sorry. I just- I was being an idiot. You just looked so good and I didn't even think."

I swallow harshly.

"It's okay Paul," I mumble, suddenly more embarrassed than anything. The truth is, he didn't really do anything, and Embry's vague answer to my question in the car was only more truth to that. If I completely disregard my emotions about what happened, and just look at what actually did happen, all Paul did was play into what I was hinting at wanting. I flirted with him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him and when he was feeling me up I liked it; it wasn't over the top or raunchy or unwarranted; I loved the way his hands skimmed against my body; it was only until I kissed him, and his breath reeked of that all too familiar whiskey, that I completely freaked out.

"No it's not okay," He sighs angrily, at himself I propose. "I shouldn't have done that. That was so inappropriate."

I frown.

I swear I have multiple personalities disorder.

Isn't that what I wanted him to say?

So, why then, does it make me so upset.

"I promise that will never happen again," He tells me, more serious this time.

My stomach drops.

The thing is, I don't want him not to do that; I don't want him to think of me as this scared and broken little flower that isn't sexy and isn't ready and I want to keep flirting and touching and kissing Paul. I want him to know that I want him, too.

I bite the inside of my cheek and will myself not to cry… again. God almighty I swear I have never in my entire life cried more than I have in the timeline of knowing Paul Lahote.

What is wrong with me now?

"I'm just making you more upset," He of course senses my mood. "I'll just leave." He finishes more quietly.

Wait.

Panic surges through my veins at the speed of wildfire. That isn't what I want. This isn't what I want; the only problem is that I have absolutely no idea in hell how to communicate what it is I want, because I don't even know; all I know is that I want him to know that I want him.

I stop thinking.

"Paul," I say quickly, just wanting him to stop; just wanting both of us to stop fucking thinking so damn much.

He turns, his hand still on the doorknob, and I practically slam into him, only he is basically made of stone and I am not, so I am most likely the only one who felt the impact of that. Regardless, I press myself into him and don't even try to stop myself from falling against him as I push him up against the wall. I grasp his shoulders to hold him to me as I completely turn my brain off and just do what I want for a change.

He doesn't smell like whiskey anymore, doesn't taste like it either. He tastes like Paul and hell I need Paul and so I need his lips too. I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, my hair falling to the side of my face and his arms wrapping around my lower back and holding me so tight I am finding it hard to breathe. I am dizzy as he tangles his fingers in the back of my hair and I open my mouth for him.

God, I need him, and I need to show him how much.

I slide my shaking fingers down to his stomach and he moans into my mouth. I move them even farther, and when I have finally reached his waistband I begin unbuckling his pants.

Paul pulls me away from him quickly. "Scarlett," He says sternly. He is staring at me intently, though his lips are red and his cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavy too.

My eyes remain wide as saucers as I stare at him and wonder what the heck he is going to say. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?" He questions, his hand still grasping a chunk of my hair.

"I-I'm showing you how much I like you touching me."

Paul's eyebrows raise. "Yeah, I think I already knew that sweetheart."

I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek. "I don't want you to think that I'm scared of you now; I don't want you to think I don't want that."

Paul gives me a condescending expression, though his eyes do soften. "I think you're missing the point here, Scar."

"What?"

He lets out a long sigh and then backs away from me. "Come here." He reaches for my hand and then pulls me to a small table against the wall. He lifts me easily and without warning and then sets me on it. My eyes widen. Okay, definitely not expected but I can surely run with it.

"Scarlett," He begins, grasping both sides of the side table as he leans towards me. "It's not about you being afraid to be physical with me; you can take as much time as you need for that." I think my cheeks turn into actual tomatoes. "The problem is why you are scared of me."

My voice is merely a whisper. "What?"

"Scar," He begins, his tone pleading this time. "You've gotta give me some answers." After a few seconds of stunned silence he tries again. "Please?"

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. Paul cups the side of my face and I close my eyes at the heat that is radiating off of his skin and his fingers that are so, so soft.

"Open your eyes," He whispers.

I shake my head.

I hear him chuckle. "Please?"

I shake my head again.

"Can I ask why?" He sighs.

Finally, yet slowly none-the-less, I open them. His face is the first thing that I see, and that really isn't a bad thing. Embry's voice pops into my head "You can tell him, you know," I hear replayed over and over and over again. Yet I still… can't. What would I even say? How would I phrase it? In how much detail would I go into? Would it change how he felt about me? Or even worse, how he acts around me?

I swallow down whatever words I had been thinking of saying, for I know that they would.

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you today."

Paul looks sincerely confused. "What?"

I pull my face out of his grasp and then rest my back against the wall. Paul stares at me for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times as he contemplates speaking. I hold my breath until he finally lets out a breath of his own.

"I freaked out in front of all your friends," I continue.

Paul looks bewildered. "How in any way shape or form did this become your fault?"

I shrug. "I don't want you to stop doing that, though," I just barely manage to squeak and blush at the same time.

"Scarlett, you don't have to explain yourself. I was an ass; we're definitely not at the point where I can just grab you like that any time I want."

I frown.

"Are we at the point? He asks with wide eyes.

"No?" I respond, though my voice rises at the end; I honestly had no idea we were even on a path to a point.

"Scarlett," Paul lets out a long sigh. "You won't even go on a date with me."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Well dates are stupid."

"No they're not," He sighs again.

"I kiss you," I defend myself.

Paul can't help but crack a smile. "Yes you do, and though I really appreciate that, a lot of people kiss people who they aren't dating."

"Well not me!" My mouth drops. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Paul laughs and sweeps a piece of my hair behind my ear. "An innocent one."

I choke on my heart in my throat. My face is on fire it is burning so terribly from a blush.

Paul smiles and cups my cheeks between his hands. He kisses me once, softly this time and not as deep or sexual or needy as before.

He pulls away so that his lips are just barely touching mine. I can feel his breath as he speaks, making me shiver. "Are you saying that you would like to date me, Scarlett?"

I blush again. "Ugh," I stammer with my words for a second. "Date is a strong word."

Paul slides his hands behind my waist and I bite my lip and focus my gaze on the floor, for I am embarrassed how much I like that. "What do you want then?" After a moment of silence Paul begins rubbing my back, still waiting for me to look at him. "What about if I called you baby girl, would you answer me then?"

My eyes immediately dart to his and my lips pull up into a wide grin that I just can't control.

He laughs and I let out a deep breath, releasing all my anxiety and just letting myself fall into Paul's shirt. I lift up, my head tilting back until my chest is pressed against his and then lastly lifting my head and coming face to face with him.

I wrap my arms around his neck again and he presses me closer by his hands on my back.

"I bet Nessie is going to un-invite me to Florida," I say sadly.

Paul shakes his head at me. "Don't be ridiculous. I got yelled at after you left."

I smile. "Good."

"Oh, question." Paul's gaze drops down lower, connecting his eyes with my sweatshirt, and then he frowns. "Where did you get this?"

I look down in confusion. "Oh," I suddenly remember. "Embry gave it to me."

He frowns even harder. "Embry?"

"Yeah," I begin slowly, confused that his best friend didn't tell him where he was going when he came after me. "He drove me home."

"Yeah I know," He mumbles angrily to himself, "But why are you wearing his clothes?"

I raise my eyebrows. "I was cold, Paul."

"Okay," He grunts. "You couldn't have put on a different sweatshirt?"

I roll my eyes. "Paul, stop being ridiculous. If anyone should be jealous it should be me."

He widens his eyes at me. "Are you jealous, Scarlett?"

I bite my tongue. "No."

"You can say it if you are," He coaxes gently.

"Well I'm not." I cross my arms.

"Good." Paul's hands slide to my sides. "Now take this off."

"Why?" I begin to protest, though he is already in the process of pulling it over my head.

"Because," He is smiling brightly one it is over my head and dropped on the floor. Paul hugs me tightly and then takes a deep breath of my neck, making me giggle. "I want to smell you, not Embry."

I chuckle. "Well I guess that is a good thing, actually."

"You know he likes you, right?"

"You are insane," My voice is shaky as he breathes against my neck.

"No I'm really not." Paul gently brushes his lips against my shoulder as he places a small kiss on my skin.

My breath catches in my throat.

"We're friends," I defend, closing my eyes.

"No," Paul sighs against my collarbone. "We're friends."

I smile. "We're not friends."

Paul picks his head up and then takes my face between his hands. He examines my face and I feel honestly so in-superior to his perfect eyes and face and muscles and bone structure.

"No we're not," He says softly. "But I want to be."

"Hm?" I kind of lost track of his words while I was too busy staring at his lips.

"Your friend," Paul clarifies. "I want to be your best friend, Scar."

I bite the corner of my lip. "I don't have best friends," I just barely whisper in a random moment of brutal honesty.

"Why not?" Paul whispers back, his voice just as hushed.

"Because," I struggle with my words. "Then I have to tell them my secrets."

Paul runs his fingers along the sides of my hair. "You have a lot of secrets, don't you, baby girl?"

I smile just a little bit, though the nickname still makes my stomach do somersaults. "I have too many," I just barely whisper back.


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