A/N: This chapter is longer than usual, but I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know what you think of the ending.

Emmett POV

As I was approaching our glasshouse, I saw Alice and Jasper making their way down the front steps.

"Emmett, where were you?" Alice asked.

She answered her own question with a nose pinch, "Wait never mind, we can smell it on you."

"I stayed behind and talked to one of the shifters," I admitted. I wasn't in the mood to argue or engage in any sort of banter, so I just answered her questions. I wasn't about to let anything ruin the really great mood I was in.

"You should've let us know. Just to be safe." Carlisle muttered from the kitchen. "I was about to send Alice and Jasper to look for you."

"Don't worry, it's the shifter who saw me feed," I raised my hands in innocence. "The least I could do was introduce myself."

"I'm glad to see someone finally learned some manners," Esme quipped from her office upstairs.

"Funny," I taunted.

"Someone's feeling happy," Jasper teased. Whatever he was insinuating, Alice picked it up.

"Really?" she squeaked. "Which one is he? What's his name?"

"His name is..." Edward whispered from his room, interrupted by my thoughts.

"Shut up! At least let me have this," I groaned inside my head.

Did I really want to tell my family about the man who inhabited every single one of my thoughts?

Not really.

Did I want to let them know I had found my potential mate in a shapeshifter, our mortal enemy?

Nope.

Did I have any other choice?

Probably not.

So, I decided to sugar coat my answers as much as was possible in this house.

"His name is Paul, and he was the silver, ash furred wolf at the meeting." Knowing Alice, she would keep asking questions until I told her everything, so I had to find a way to escape this conversation.

"And?" she goaded.

My mind circled back to Paul's warmth, "And he's the one who smells like pine."

At this stage, I didn't actually know much about Paul. I knew his skin felt like fire in a shell and his hair was a forest I wanted to get lost in, but apart from that, I was clueless about him. That would have to change tomorrow. On the bright side, not knowing anything might've helped me dodge Alice's barrage of questions.

"Pine? What pine?" she questioned. "That's definitely not the scent we get..."

"...That's strange. His smell is completely different for you," curiosity dwelled in her voice. Then the dots started visibility clicking in her head. For once, Edward wouldn't be the one blabbering my business to everyone else.

I was somewhat impressed Alice had figured it out without the help of her ability but fully annoyed that one more person would know about Paul. Over half the family already knew my secret and not one word about it passed my own lips.

She leaned forward like a cat preparing to pounce, "Is that everything about him?"

I glared at her, "It's everything I want to say."

"Oh c'mon Emmett, you're no fun!" she whined. "I figured it out and Edward probably already knows anyway. Why won't you just tell me?"

"Because I want it to be mine!" I snapped. My arms crossed and tried to hide whatever part of me wasn't exposed.

"Don't you understand Emmett?" she put her hand above my elbow. "He already is."

A grin teased at my lips. As much as I found Alice's lack of boundaries irksome, her intentions were never harmful. And I may even go as far as to say that they were generous. "Thank you for that," I spoke.

I reveled in her words before continuing. "Oh, and by the way, Jasper knows too."

"What?!" she gasped. She turned to Jasper with eyes wide and mouth gaped from shock, "And you didn't tell me? Interesting to finally see where your loyalties lie."

"S-Sorry darlin'. Emmett didn't even know what he felt until I explained it to him," Jasper was rushing to cover his bases. "And I was going to tell you just now before he showed up."

Their little exchange was cut short by Carlisle and Esme walking outside. Esme cut in, "What's this about?"

"Uh, nothing. It's all really just a funny story," I was stalling until a good answer popped into my head. "You see, I actually kind of sort of befriended a wolf."

"Is that all?" Esme asked. Her instincts were telling her to probe further.

"Yeah." I returned her stare worried she would become suspicious if I didn't. We stayed like this for a couple of seconds, it was a battle of pure willpower, and one I was quickly losing.

"That's great to hear!" Carlisle saved me from the clutches of Esme's all-powerful glare. "This is unprecedented but could change our relationship with the shifters for the better."

I was finally allowed a moment of peace when her attention shifted to Carlisle.

"You are now an ambassador of sorts Emmett, don't do anything irresponsible." It sounded like he was scolding me for something I hadn't even done yet.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, please go shower," Jasper mumbled.

"All of your noses suck!" I snarled as I sped up the stairs into my room.

3rd Person POV

Emmett hesitated to do as he was told. He wasn't fully prepared to wash his wolf's scent off his body. But the thought of being with him soon gave him enough peace with the idea of showering.

As usual, he left the water running cold and slipped behind the glass shower door. With the water running down his statuesque physique, he turned the knob all the way to the left. Now, his water was as hot as Paul.

He stood there with his eyes closed, using the heat of the water to take him back to the treaty line. What was supposed to be a 10-minute shower turned into one that lasted over two hours.

. . .

The last time Emmett went on a date, he was still human.

Etiquette, fashion, and expectations had all changed since then so he was struggling to come up with an idea of where to take Paul, but most importantly, what to wear. He sat on his futon the entire night, morning, and afternoon, his white towel still the only thing on him, and brainstormed far too many ideas. At that point, he was feeling both excited and nervous to see Paul and couldn't help but think through every possible scenario. He was done playing out the 57th complete date in his head when the perfect idea came to him - Emmett figured that they would go to one of his favorite places.

Before he knew it, his phone displayed 5:40 pm and it was time to choose an outfit.

Thanks to Alice, there were so many options in his wardrobe, but he still had no fashion sense to put something together. He stared and stared until he started pulling out random pieces with his eyes closed.

"Too formal."

"Too bright."

"It's too cold for that."

"This isn't even my shirt!"

"Hmmmmm..."

Emmett was getting impatient. He began desperately sifting through his memories of the countless times Alice helped him hoping to stumble on useful advice.

"You can never go wrong with a solid long-sleeve button-down, black jeans, and some boots," he could hear her in his thoughts.

Almost immediately, he picked a pocketless, dark olive button-down hanging in his closet and dug for his black pair of slim fit jeans in his drawer. Within 3 seconds, Emmett was wearing the shirt and after another 4 seconds, he was wearing the jeans along with a belt. All that was left to complete his ensemble were his dark brown lace-up boots.

In the corner of his room, he could smell last month's hunting trip. He walked and picked them up by the collar and sat on his futon to put them on.

"I've fought bears, mountain lions, and even punched a whale in these shoes. I can definitely go on a date in them," he thought.

His phone now read 5:50 pm. It was time to head out.

He quickly pocketed the pile of coins on his shelf, jumped outside from his window, and sprinted to his Jeep. While he was driving away, he could see his siblings behind their house windows in the reflection of his rearview mirror. Their image soon shrunk in the distance and disappeared when he turned onto a muddy trail. His Jeep struggled and juddered through the path up to the treaty line. Once there, he stopped the engine and got out of his car to greet the man waiting for him.

"Hey, Paul!"

"Hi, Emmett," Paul's arms halfway around him.

Paul's grip on his imprint was tightening every second. He rested his head on Emmett's shoulder and his breathing was slightly heavy. Paul was hugging him like he needed to. And Emmett noticed.

He returned the embrace, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy to see you."

As much as hearing that brought him joy, Emmett couldn't shake the feeling something was bothering Paul. He showed him to the jeep, his arm hovering over Paul's waist and his eyes fixated on his tense jawline. They made their way out of the muddy trail.

"Are you cold? Want me to turn on the heat?"

"No, it's a wolf thing."

"So, you never get cold?"

"Nope, never. Our body temperature is super high."

Emmett took advantage of the situation and took Paul's hand in his own. Immediately, Paul's face beamed, whatever was bothering him before had disappeared.

"No wonder your skin feels like an open flame," Emmett smiled.

"So, what you're saying is that I'm hot?" Paul joked.

"I wouldn't go that far," Emmett teased.

"Hey, I'm curious," Emmett was nervous. "Have you always been a shifter?"

"No, I was pretty much a normal human until I turned 16."

For some unknown reason, Paul didn't feel comfortable telling him about the imprint yet. Everything else, however, he would share, "My temper was horrible. I mean, I've always been described as a little hot-headed, even before the transformation. But after I filled in and my body temperature skyrocketed, my temper became something else. Then, it just... stopped."

"Do you know why?"

"Honestly, not really. Life seemed dull, even as a shifter. I saw no point in getting angry anymore."

Emmett grew worried for Paul.

"Of course, that was until I met you."

From the corner of Emmett's lips, a small smile escaped. He gave a small glance over to Paul before returning his eyes to the road.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Don't worry about it."

"You should've told me. I didn't even know what to wear."

"You look perfect."

And he did. In the small glance Emmett was able to steal, he took the chance to admire the character of the black leather jacket that decorated Paul's frame along with the navy-blue long sleeve that hugged his chest and the black jeans that were tight enough to show the lines of muscle but loose enough to fold with a fidget of his legs.

Paul blushed. His 110-degree heat briefly rose to 111 before settling back down.

"My turn. This life..." Paul hesitated. "How did it start?"

Nobody outside Emmett's immediate family knew his story. It wasn't a matter of keeping it secret, rather it was a matter of having no one to share it with.

"I was hunting for game when I encountered a black bear," he paused. "Let's just say I wasn't the winner of that fight." Emmett was avoiding the gruesome details, "Luckily, Carlisle and Esme found me and brought me back home."

"And the transformation?"

"The venom was agonizing."

Paul knew not to press further, at least not now.

Emmett massaged his thumb into Paul's palm.

Shortly, like a never-ending game of tennis, they began asking each other questions about any topic they could think of. Everything from interests to believing in ghosts was fair game.

Soon, an hour had passed, and they were parking next to a building on the Port Angeles dock.

The building's metal exterior was rusty and beaten down by the constant rain. Paul could tell it had stood the test of time. Emmett tugged at Paul's fingertips, leading the way to the wooden dock and past the entrance to the inside. The smell of dust joined by metallic hums filled their senses until their eyes adjusted to the sight of dozens of old machines.

"This is what you would call an arcade," Emmett anxiously waited for Paul's reaction. "But from my time."

"Woah... this is so cool!" Paul's hands punctuated his enthusiasm. "How'd you even find this?"

Emmett's shoulders relaxed, "it's a pretty long story. But I've had a lot of time to come across it."

"Fair," Paul admitted. "But don't think you're getting out of telling me the story later."

"You're too stubborn for your own good."

They both walked to the nearest machine, a red, table-shaped box with a pane of glass and two steering wheels. Behind the glass pane, there were two cars on a figure 8 racetrack.

"Wanna see who's the better driver?" Paul challenged.

"Please, I've been driving longer than you can remember."

Emmett pulled a quarter out of his pocket and used it to start the machine.

The two cars moved on the track and lagged around the curves. The pair turned the steering wheels, making the cars go faster around the turns. It was a race.

3 laps were all it took for Paul to claim victory. "All that talk and nothing to back it up with," he shoved Emmett with his shoulder.

"That was just beginners' luck."

"Sure it was."

"Again, since you're feeling so brave."

$1.25 later, Emmett had only managed to win once. No matter how many hundreds of times he had played this exact game before, he couldn't seem to best Paul. It was a tiny blow to his ego, but he wouldn't want it to have come from anyone else. He swiftly accepted defeat and trudged to the next game that piqued his interest. Now, they were standing in front of a tall machine that had the shape of a wrestler painted on its surface. It had a level table in the middle where a mechanical arm jutted out waiting for anyone who tried to challenge its strength.

"This is the closest I'll ever get to arm wrestling a human," Emmett chuckled. "It's not as much fun as it was, but I always play whenever I come here."

He fed the game a coin and wrapped his hand around the machine's. Slowly, the mechanical arm moved to the left until it met Emmett's strength. His face was unphased, he wasn't even trying. His power was already amazing, but Paul grew even more impressed when Emmett used only his pinky finger to push against the arm. Needless to say, the game lost.

"Your turn," Emmet smirked as he popped another coin to restart the game.

Paul rested his elbow on the table prepared to meet the arm. When his strength met the machine's, his bicep slightly tensed. He was strong too, maybe not as much as Emmett or any other vampire, but he could still win with ease.

"See, that was too easy."

"I heard your muscle contract, so I won."

"Hold up, you didn't say anything about a competition."

"Did I have to? You would've lost anyway."

"Let me change form and we'll have a rematch."

Emmett grabbed Paul by the waist and pulled into him, completely catching him by surprise. Their breaths mingled, their faces only centimeters apart and closing in on each other.

A piercing bell chime traveled through the air and broke their attention.

Both turned to look for the source and found a fortune-telling machine.

The heat in Paul's face subsided and he let out a nervous chuckle. Emmett beamed at the sound of Paul's laugh.

"Let's get our fortune's read," Emmett said and he led Paul to the machine by the waist.

A bust of a woman dressed in ornate headscarves, fabrics, and jewelry sat behind a glass pane. The chipping paint on her hands and face added to the occult atmosphere around the machine.

"I'll go first," Paul volunteered.

Emmett put the coin in Paul's hand so he could insert it this time. He didn't want to risk Paul's fortune with his own.

After receiving the coin, lustrous harp sounds came from the contraption. The crystal ball in front of the bust glowed white and an accented voice spoke, "Your fortune is for my telling."

A small, white card came from a slit in the box.

Paul read, "Everything you love is on the table."

Neither of them knew what the fortune meant. They were stumped.

"I think it's supposed to be confusing," Emmett explained. "Just to make you think."

Paul felt satisfied with that explanation and let Emmett take his place before the fortune teller.

After the noises and glow played out, he withdrew his card from the machine.

He read, "There's a bright white beautiful heaven hanging over you."

At first, he didn't understand the cryptic message but as he thought about it more and more, he recognized heaven standing right in front of him.

Three days ago, he had nothing to lose, nothing to cry over. But now, he had everything.

A/N: Don't Swallow the Cap by The National