A/N: Really feeling this Jasper right now, so here's another chapter a little sooner than expected. And leave Sketchy Pete some love. He's needy…

Happy places. Usually they're in your mind, a place to which you retreat to escape your fucked up reality. I honestly can't think of a better reality than this moment, though. I don't need a mental happy place; I'm living in it right now.

"Jas?"

"Hmm?" He mumbles lazily, sleepily. I think I wore him out, poor baby.

"How many tattoos do you have?" I ask. I can see quite a few, especially the ones on his arms. He's lying across the bed with his head on my stomach, face turned to me, and his arms on either side of me, clutching me like a body pillow, bare-assed for the world to see. So I have a pretty good view. Yeah.

"Um, ten, maybe?"

"You don't know?"

"I was less than lucid for one or two of them, Babe. Do you like 'em?" Has any man ever smirked as well as he? Nope.

"Uh, yeah. So hard. Almost as much as the lip ring." His laughter has him bouncing and jostling on my tummy. I am in heavy lust with this guy's laugh. And seriously. Tattoos AND a lip ring? It's just not fair. So much sexy all in one place. I stroke his hair from his forehead as he looks up at me, running my fingers back and forth.

"Which one is your favorite?" Laughing. He's laughing at me.

"The one I wanted to lick the first time I saw it. Are you lost, Jasper?"

"Not as lost as I used to be. Still wanna lick it?"

"Soon. Stop being so bad," I admonish him, pulling his hair a little.

"You like the bad boys, Bella." The way his breath feels on my skin as he speaks, the slow circles his left hand is tracing on my side, the all together disarming glint in his eyes conspire to nearly rob me of my ability to think, much less speak, in this moment. I have to shake my head.

"Um, apparently, yeah, I do," I tell him, giving a little smirk of my own. I somehow don't think it's as effective as his.

"You don't want the superhero?"

"Heroes are overrated. All that perfect can be a bit much to handle."

Just as he starts kissing my belly button and murmuring about giving me something to handle, my cell phone rings. Hearing the chorus of "Firework" by Katy Perry, Jas lifts his head and looks at me with mild shock and a little bit of disappointment.

"Ali," I explain.

"Oh," he says with a look of relief. "Makes sense."

He rolls onto his back, killing me with those abs, as I hop up to find my phone. Locating the inconvenient device of convenience, I prepare for the cacophony of excitement that is Mary Alice Cullen.

"Hey."

"Where the hell are you? Seth said you drove away with, and I quote, 'Some dude who doesn't even play Call of Duty' hours and hours ago. Are you still out with Jas?"

"Yeah. I'm still in P.A. with him."

"Bella."

"Hm?"

"Do I smell sex and candy?"

"Maybe, Marcy Playground. Well, no candy." Jas cannot contain the violent burst of laughter this has ripped form him.

"Hi, Jas."

"Ali says hi," I say turning to face him and his… attributes, head on.

"Hello, O Tiny Powerful One," he yells.

"I like him," my best friend says.

"Me, too."

"When are you coming home? You do know we have school tomorrow. You can't stay. Are you at his place? Is it gross? Like, boy-gross? Did he at least feed you? Was it good? Jas, I mean, not the food."

"Ali, which question do you want me to answer?"

"You choose."

"I'm leaving in a little while; he has plans for tonight. Yes, he fed me. Not gross, just boy-messy. And yes. Fucking amazing."

"Amazing fucking," giggles Ali, saying just what I knew she would.

"Yep."

"Is he listening?"

"Yep."

"Does he know what we're talking about?"

"Yep. Smirking."

"I like him."

"Call you when I get home, Ali. Love you."

"Bye. Love you, too."

"That's so hot," he tells me when I hang up.

"What?"

"Talking about sex with your friend while I listen. 'Fucking amazing.' Nice."

"Amazing fucking," I can't help but giggle. Ali does that to me.

"Uh, huh. I saw you kissin' her last night and this morning. That is also hot. Are you two…," he trails off, wobbling his hands in the universal sign for make of this statement what you will.

"No, no. That is all for Mikey's benefit. He loves that shit. It's his reward and his torture. We talked about it once, just out of curiosity, but decided it was too gross to try. We are both very hetero," I tell him, scrunching my nose. Ew. Just, no.

"Me and Mike are grateful. For the hetero part. The curiosity part, well, if you wanna try, and let us judge the ew factor, just let us know," he says with a huge, huge grin. I wipe it off his face with a thrown pillow. My aim is perfect.

"Thanks, but no, smart ass. Hey, we gotta go; it's getting close to three. Get your fine ass up."

"Believe me, Babe, I've been up most of the day."

"Oh, hell. Put it in the stable, Cowboy. This girl is riding no more today; I'm gonna get saddle sores."

"Spoil sport," he grumbles. I'd be pissed if he wasn't smiling. "Do we have to go?"

"Yes. You have people expecting you and important, manly things to do. Let's go."

I shower quickly while he scrounges his clothes together. Good old Irish Spring soap. As he runs into the shower while I'm walking out, he stops and considers my hair.

"How is your hair dry, Babe?"

"All girls can do that trick, Jas. It's in the chick handbook, on the page after the diagram showing how to remove a bra while fully clothed. I didn't want to be on the back of that badass bike with a wet head."

"Ok. I'm the smart ass? Be right out." And he's true to his word. By the time I'm dressed, he's out and buttoning his jeans.

Walking up to me and throwing his arms around my hips, Jas whispers against my lips, "I'm so glad you convinced me to stay last night."

"It wasn't really that difficult to do, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I'm still happy it went down that way. Thanks for bringing me home," he says, punctuating his words with a kiss.

"You're welcome. Thanks for a wonderful day."

"Wonderful? What happened to fucking amazing?"

"Oh, Jas. You're such a guy," I tell him, giving him a quick kiss.

I walk into the living room and grab my purse. Jas walks around the room, collecting his wallet and phone.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Don't you need a guitar for tonight?"

"Nah. Jeremy will bring two or three. He's a Boy Scout, too."

We make our way back to the garage. I've had an amazing day; I have loved spending time with Jas. I hate to leave, but I'm ready to go home. Too much of a good thing, you know? I don't want us to OD on each other. We've experienced a LOT of, um, togetherness in the last couple of days. Plus, I'm fucking tired. But I can stand a few more minutes of holding onto him. I love motorcycles and the men who ride them. Well, at least I'm liking the one I'm with. Gripping him as tightly as I can without hindering his movements, careful of my skirt as we lean into the curves, I fleetingly wish I could remove my helmet so I can rest my head on his back. Yeah, loving the bike.

As we pull into the garage, I see more than one rather stunned pair of eyes tracking us from the picture window of what I assume is the office. Nobody makes a move toward us though. Jas again helps me off the bike, helps me remove the helmet. So chivalrous. Fluffs my hair and runs his fingers along the back of my neck. So flirty.

"Come in and say hi before you go?"

"Just real quick. I need to head out."

Jas takes my hand and leads me toward an office, where a couple of the guys are leaning in the doorway. I know that by holding my hand he's making a statement. Not to me; I don't need that from him, anyway. This message is for his friends. What that statement is, though, I can't quite figure out. Is it Hands off, Fuckers? Yeah, I think that's part of it, but they would listen to him if he just said so. Is it This girl is mine? There's a subtle difference there. Is it This girl is different? I guess, if I'm honest with myself, that one would be my pick. I feel different when I'm with him.

"Hey, guys. You remember Bella," he announces to the room. I am greeted with a chorus of quiet welcome. But there's always one…

"A little surprised to see you here, Bella," says Brian. Fuck you, Brian.

"Fuck you, Brian," says my man, reading my mind. I squeeze his hand a little in silent thanks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just a little, um…,"

"Unusual? Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Sketch." Pete chuckles at that shit. Yeah, we could be friends.

"What the hell? How do you have a nickname for him already?" Jas looks down at me with true confusion and a little frustration.

"I guess you had to be there, J," John hoots, barely able to form the words because he's straining so hard to keep the laughter inside.

"I was fuckin' there, and I still don't get it!"

"Hey, Badass, calm the hell down. It's ok." I look over at Sketchy Pete, and damn if he isn't staring at me. "Dude, what the fuck? Stop staring at me! That, Jas, that shit right there, is why he's Sketchy Pete. Sketch, damn, quit it."

"Calm down, Bella, God. I'm not 'staring' at you. I'm just contemplating a particularly puzzling conundrum."

"Huh?" rings the chorus from the troop of monkeys that is Southern Comfort.

"Peter, seriously, man. I don't really want to fuck you up, but I will," Jas says menacingly.

"No disrespect to your girl, J. And Bella, stop quirking that weird ass eyebrow at me," Pete throws this comment my way with a grin on his sketchy face. Hell, he's kind of cute when he grins.

"What? My eyebrow? My eyebrow is fine," I growl at him. On second thought, I take it back; he's not really cute at all. "If you think mine is weird, you should see this girl I know who draws her brows on - seriously, like a fugly, surprised clown. Her seaweed green hair doesn't help. What's wrong with my eyebrow?"

"Nothing, Babe. Your brows are fine. Peter, what the hell?" Jas lets go of my hand and makes a move toward Peter. Um, Peter doesn't really like that.

"Hold on, J. I'm just messing with her. I like her; she's got spunk."

"It's ok, Jas. I think he's harmless." Well, maybe not harmless, but certainly scared of Jasper. I get closer to Jas and take his hand again, hoping to calm him down. It works - a little.

"Come on, let's go in. I want to see your rehearsal space, then I really have to go."

"Leaving so early, Bella? You just got here," says Larry, speaking for the first time.

"Yeah, it's been a long weekend. I'm tired." Best to be vague.

"You sure you don't want to hang around a while? Hear the new stuff?" This from Brian, trying to get back into my good graces.

"No, really. I'm not trying to be Yoko here. I'm sure I'll hear it soon enough."

All the guys laugh at the Yoko comment, but I think I detect a bit of relief. Nobody wants a new chick coming in and fucking with the band dynamic. I respect Jas's need to keep his routine with the guys. The results are pretty good, after all. Southern Comfort truly does put on a fantastic show. I'd like them even if I wasn't screwing their leader - just maybe not quite as much. The practice space is a hidden studio tucked behind one of the service bays, toward the back of the building, reachable from the office, as well as a big garage bay door.

"Wow, Sketch. You're giving up a lot of space here. Very generous," I tell him, giving him the weird eyebrow again, just to fuck with his head.

"I told you, U.B., it's win-win."

"U.B.?" Jas just cannot let the nickname thing go. So cute.

"Unusual Bella." Jas gives Pete an incredulous look, shakes his head, and heads into a walk-in storage closet for minute after giving me the one-finger-raised signal for wait here.

I take this opportunity to get some things straight. Flopping down on a really gross sofa against the wall, I ask Brian, "All right. What am I missing? You boys are all weirded out. Quick, he won't be gone long."

"No bullshit?"

"No, Brian, fucking lie to me. Yeah, no bullshit."

"You're the first girl he's brought here," says Brian.

"You're the first girl we've heard him call 'Babe,'" offers Jeremy.

"You're the first girl we've seen him hold hands with," John informs me in amazement.

"You're the first one he's spent the night with. On purpose, at least," Larry over shares.

"Bella, to be very blunt, you're the first girl that I know of that he's fucked then hung out with the next day since he moved here. The only one. You, hot stuff, are very unusual. You've created a new precedent. I'm trying to figure it out."

I sit there with my mouth wide open. I am different. That makes me very happy.

"No girlfriends at all? Rose said he doesn't really do things that way, but, I, really?"

"He -"

"Jeremy! Hey, asshole, where are the cables for the blue amp? Shit is NEVER where I leave it!" Jas is so patient. And soft spoken, too. So hot when he's frustrated.

"Jas, I'm leaving," I shout. This brings him quickly around the door frame and to my side.

"Bella, see you soon. Don't be a stranger. We're playing again next weekend," Brian offers. I hug each boy much to my man's chagrin. Tough; I'm starting to think of these guys as friends.

"Sketch, it's been real," I say, giving him a little extra love. Dude earned it with his honesty.

"He likes you, Bella. He'll be worth a little effort," he whispers in my ear - the one opposite the side where Jas stands. That little aside is just for me and Pete.

"Thanks, Pete."

"J, you make sure you bring that girl back to see me!" Pete yells as Jas walks me back to my truck.

"Holy shit, Bella. You have a fan club, Babe. Sketchy Pete? That is epic. Any dude calls him that, they'll be on their hands and knees lookin' for their teeth," he says through not quite suppressed laughter.

"Yep, that's me. I am so entertaining. I bring the funny wherever I go," I say giggling. I have giggled more during this weekend than the three months preceding it.

"Did any of them get out of line? Peter seemed to make you uncomfortable, obviously," he asks, looking intently into my eyes, truly concerned.

"No, Jasper, I'm fine. Really. I think he just takes a little getting used to."

He wraps his hands around my waist and pushes me up against the side of my truck. Leaning down to whisper in my ears, he says, "You're calling me 'Jasper' you know."

"I know," I breathe. "Do you hate it? I can't help myself."

"As long as it's just you. And Rosalie. That's it. Make sure Ali knows. Just you."

"Ok." And with that, the talking stops. We've been together all day, together together twice, we slept in the same sleeping bag all night, but we still can't seem to get enough. I raise my hands to his face, framing his mouth with my thumbs, feeling his lips work me over, So strong. His hands pull me closer to his body as his body pushes me tighter to the truck. I am so not over that move. It's a good one.

"J! You're in public! Shit, man," Sketch yells. Is he looking after me?

"Your fan club is calling me off, Babe," Jas grumbles against my lips, confirming my suspicions.

"He's right, though. And I need to get going," I say, reluctantly untangling myself form his embrace.

"I'll text to set something up for next weekend. That ok?"

"Yeah, that's good."

With one more kiss, I climb into my truck. As I start the engine, Jas leans in to kiss me once again, and runs his lip - that motherfucking lip ring! - along my bottom lip. "To hold you over," he smirks. A lip ring drive by.

I haven't gotten more than a mile from the garage before my phone alerts me to a text. I haven't forgotten sat. is yr birthday.

I think I smile all the way back to Forks.

A/N: Getting to know each other. They needed to.