A/N: sorry for the wait on this friends—things have been a little crazy on my end. All my love.
It's almost scary, how easy it is to be with Paul—how naturally all of it comes.
There's none of the nervousness she felt when she was with Edward; none of the discomfort, no room for her to think she might do something wrong or feel inadequate.
He'll come over after he gets off work, happy to be in her presence even if he's nappng the entire time or she completely ignores him to do homework or watch a game with Charlie; or she'll go by his place after school and read while he cleans the house, till they're both ready to watch a movie or mess around on the couch or in his room or up against the front door—
(she keeps catching her mind drifting to those moments at inopportune times, and while they're nice memories to have it would be helpful if she could stop imagining Paul talking dirty to her when trying to finish her bio essay.)
She finds herself waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time, for it to be a trick, because surely this haphazard, chaotic happiness she's begun to mold is too good to be true; but then there's Paul, holding her hand or her knee, leaning up against her side, bringing her along anywhere he has to go anytime she wants to come like there's nothing he wants more than to be with her.
(But he's okay if she can't hang out, too—doesn't blink or scowl when she can't see him all weekend because she has plans with Jess and Jake, doesn't question it if she needs a night to herself or wants to spend the afternoon just her dad and her watching the playoffs.)
(Even on her bad days, her relationship is so solid it feels like it must be a dream.)
And the pack is such a bright addition to her world, too. Emily is the kind of sisterly/maternal older figure she's never had but always wanted—the reason she'd so desperately clung to Alice and Esme, wishing upon wishing for that kind of relationship, someone who's been there, and understands, and will give advice and admonish you and cry with you all the same.
And Bella and Sam are so much alike, both so independent and unwilling to lean on other people, learning to let themselves be taken care of while still feeling responsible for everyone around them—it feels good, to have someone who understands.
(Rather than the childlike treatment she'd grown used to with the Cullens.)
Jared and Embry, too, are like ridiculously goofy younger brothers she can always count on to cheer her up when the dark thoughts are taking over her mind, and being around more means spending a ton more time with Leah—things are just starting to feel right.
(But life has always regressed to the mean for her; highs this high always mean an even more painful low.)
(Bella knows better than to trust it.)
/
"Who's your best friend?"
Jake gives her a suspicious look, like he doesn't like where this is going. "What do you want?"
Bella scowls. "I brought you a present, jerk, but maybe I'll take it back if you're going to assume the worst of me."
"To be fair, every time you've historically mentioned being my best friend it's been followed by you talking me into something that's gotten us grounded."
Her cheeks flush. "Okay, first of all, that's an exaggeration, and second of all, this would only get me grounded, but being that I am now a legal adult, Charlie can't do anything about it."
Her best friend rolls his eyes. "See, you say that, but I'd be willing to bet good money we're still going to sneak around and make sure he doesn't find out because you're not willing to test that."
Making a face, Bella meets his eyes, her own pleading. "I love you?"
"What is it?" he sighs.
She leads him to the bed of her truck, feeling a little too much glee at the shock that visibly courses through him at the sight of the bikes.
"Motorcycles? Are you fucking with me? Bells, your dad will literally shoot me."
"You're always saying you want practice with different kinds of vehicles and parts," she points out, "And Charlie can't get mad about it if he doesn't find out about it."
Jake groans, scratching the back of his neck. "This is a terrible idea."
"Listen, I'm going to do this with or without you. So if my dad for some reason finds out, it can be argued you were only attempting to keep me from getting into even more trouble, and not telling anyone about it because I was trying so hard to keep it a secret."
Her expression is beseeching. "Please, Jake? I—I need to feel like myself again. In control."
Sighing, he holds up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But I'm throwing you under the bus and saying I told you so the second this goes south."
"I would expect nothing less."
As reluctant as he'd been to start working on the bikes, he lights up when he starts actually working on them—any time he's in the garage, it's like his entire heart glows with passion.
They talk about everything and nothing while he works, Bella passing tools as requested, jotting down parts they need to buy whenever he calls out their names, practicing Quileute word pronunciations in between conversations.
It's not till Jake's wiping the grease off his hands with an old rag that he stops dancing around the subject, jaw tense. "You're still dating Paul?"
And she grimaces, because she knows—knows how it looks.
How it must feel, like she's ignoring his warnings and will come crying after.
(Like she's going to abandon him for a bad guy boyfriend he'd told her was bad news, all over again.)
"Jake…" Bella sighs, pulling her hair back as she tries to find a way to explain. "I—there's a lot about Paul you don't know. And that doesn't make your experiences with him irrelevant, and I trust and believe your judgement, but I also…you don't know all the details."
"Right." He's simmering with anger, the way she's seen a million times, but—this is different than him being a little pissed because his dad took away his car, or his sister broke his favorite videogame.
(He's—hurt, and angry, and the pain makes the rage worse because it's easier to get mad than sad.)
"So what, you're just—hanging out with Sam Uley's gang, now? Laughing with Embry while he avoids Quil and I like we haven't been as close as brothers since we were kids?"
Bella winces, because this is the hardest part of it all—wanting to tell him his other best friend misses him more than anything, wanting to explain how she's watched Embry break down and cry after having to brush Jake and Quil off, wanting to promise him his friend is making himself miserable because he can't bear the thought of hurting people who mean so much to him.
(But she can't—none of them can say anything, even though he already knows all the legends, and it just—it all fucking sucks.)
"It's not like that, Jake," she promises, voice gentle. "Embry loves you. Always will. Things are just…complicated right now. I don't even know all the details."
"But you know some of them. How come he can tell he's new best bud's girlfriend, but not his best friend since diapers, huh? How is that him loving me, Bella? Go ahead, explain it to me. Find a way to excuse it—you're good at that."
The barb hurts, but she can't blame him; can't imagine how things look from his end.
(His father's the chief, and he's supposed to be the next—why can't anyone just tell him?)
(Why does everything have to be secret, so everyone's pain is secret too—so they have to go through it all alone so unnecessarily?)
"I—" she swallows heavily, reaching for his shoulder, knowing when he gets like this the only thing that helps is hugging him tight.
But when her hand meets his skin, her eyes go wide. "Jacob, you're burning up!"
"I'm fine. Just run hot sometimes, and we've been in the sun for hours."
Even as he says it, though, it's clear something is off—and then he starts getting mad about that too, that he feels wrong.
It's only then that she sees it.
(He's shaking.)
(He's about to phase.)
"Fuck," she whispers under her breath. She reaches for her phone, hastily dialing even as she tries to stay calm, keep from seeming like anything is wrong.
(If something she does escalates things, if it happens before any of the wolves get here—she doesn't know how to help him through it.)
"Hey, baby. What's up?" Paul asks as he answers on the second ring.
"Hi," she says, working to keep her voice light and airy. "Are you or any of the other guys free right now?"
He notices something's wrong immediately. "Where are you? What's wrong?."
"Oh, I'm just at the Blacks; it seems like Jake is coming down with something. I was wondering if you could pop by with some soup or something, he has a really bad fever."
Her boyfriend swears on the other end as she stresses the syllables, and she hears his door slam. "I'll be there in two minutes. If he starts shaking, you back away, you hear me? Leave, if you have to. If anything happens to you I—"
"Sounds good," she chirps, cutting him off. "We'll see you soon."
"Did you seriously just invite that asshole to my house?" Jake demands, nostrils flaring.
"He's just going to drop off soup and leave so I don't have to drive all the way out to the store to get you some," she soothes. "Jake, you have to breathe. Do you want me to grab you some ice water?"
He scowls but doesn't say no, so she hurries inside, taking a deep breath as she fills a large glass. She grabs a dishrag from the drawer as well, dampening it for his forehead before heading back outside.
He's still trembling, but only slightly, and he reluctantly sits down, slowly sipping the water while she fusses over him, dabbing at his forehead, gently stroking his hair back.
That's how Paul finds them, a moment later—his presence is enough to get Jake heated all over again, eyes going narrow with anger.
Paul meets Bella's gaze, expression stony. "Isabella, you need to move away from him. He's not safe for you right now."
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Jake gets to his feet, and the shaking gets more violent.
Before Bella can protest, Paul is there, one arm around her waist to pull her behind him defensively, hackles raised.
The protective position only incenses Jacob more. "Don't tell her what to do, you territorial jackass! The fuck—like I'm the one she needs shielding from?"
"You need to back up, baby," Paul says to her through his teeth. "I need to piss him off to get this over with, and I don't want you anywhere near us when it happens."
She backs away immediately, though the reluctance is visible in her face.
(Jake is hurting—it goes against every fiber of her being to back away.)
Jake is fuming, enraged at hearing Paul tell her what to do—enraged at being treated like he's the one who would ever hurt her. "Are you kidding me? What right do you have to act like I'm the bad guy here—I'm the one who's been with her through all of it!
"You being with her didn't seem to help much when that asshole was treating her like garbage," Paul snarls, trying to incite Jake's anger further. "What kind of best friend does nothing while a manipulative dick is emotionally abusive and treats her like furniture?"
It's like a switch—one second Jake is there, body vibrating at top speed as he snarls—
And the next there's a mammoth wolf in his place, long russet fur moving with the wind as he howls with confusion.
(Without even speaking to him about it, Bella knows the reason it pissed him off so easily is that he's thought the same thing a million times—hates himself for it more than anyone else ever could, even though it's so, so not his fault.)
Paul's phased a moment later, to explain what's happening, she assumes.
Jake whines a few times—panicking, probably, and knowing him more overjoyed than he should be at becoming a creature of legend.
They bark back and forth for a bit; even though their actual communication is terlepathic, they're both very physical people, snarling to emphasize their points to each other.
After a beat, Bella hesitantly reaches a hand out. "Jake?" she whispers.
(Terrified he'll be mad at her for keeping this from him.)
She can see Paul's wolf turn to look out of the corner of her eye, but he's not important right now—her gaze is locked on her best friend.
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you," she says softly. "It was killing me to keep the secret. Embry, too." She takes a step closer to him, biting her lip. "Do you feel better now? Is there anything you need, or…do you want me to go away?"
The horse sized wolf that is Jacob makes a noise she can't decipher, and she hesitates, for a moment—and then he's moving toward her, nuzzling at her hand.
She laughs until he licks her cheek. "Eugh, gross, Jake! I don't mind having a few pet dogs but if you keep that up I'll have to put you in obedience school."
He makes that same noise again, and she realizes.
(It's laughter.)
(Even as a giant wolf of legend, her best friend is laughing at her.)
"Yeah, keep laughing," she rolls her eyes. "I've had a month's head start to come up with an entire supply of dog jokes."
Assured that Jake's stable, Paul phases back a moment later, Jake doing the same immediately after.
Paul stares at him, earning a scowl in return.
"What?" Jake demands.
"Hey, chill." Paul says it like an order, and Jake starts to get mad, but Paul motions to where Jake's clenched fists are already starting to tremble. "Your temper is your new number one enemy. You can't keep a lid on it, you could end up hurting Bella—or worse."
Jake forces out a deep breath, giving a perfunctory nod of understanding.
(He might hate Paul but he wouldn't risk his best friend's safety for any amount of petty rivalry, as much as he'd like to do the exact opposite just to spite the other guy.)
"Why are you watching me like that?" He asks once his anger is under control.
The older man purses his lips. "It's taken all of us hours to calm down enough to phase back. The fact that you did it within thirty minutes is…astonishing. Really impressive."
Jake eyes him warily, but for whatever reason appears to decide the compliment is genuine.
He plops down beside Bella, Paul mirroring him on her other side should he need to tug her out of the way again.
(And it's—the circumstances are not ideal in the slightest, but she's sandwiched by two of her favorite people, and she can't help but hum in contentment at the feel of the warmth they both emnate seeping into her.)
Exhausted as he is from full time work and pulling double patrols, Paul eventually falls asleep, head on Bella's lap as she and Jake talk.
Jake makes a face at the sight. "It's weird to see him so—gentle. He's different with you."
"He is," Bella nods with a blush. "I—I hope now that you know, and you'll be in each other's heads and everything, you hate him less. He…he's really important to me."
Her best friend rolls his eyes but nods reluctantly. "I'll do my best. Guess now I don't have the whole anger thing to hold against him seeing as I just considered literally biting his head off an hour ago. And I can't possibly hate him more than I did—" He cuts off abruptly, eyes wide with horror. "Oh my god. The fuck."
Bella's brows scrunch together with worry. "What, what's wrong?"
"Wolves are real. The stories are true."
She gives him a look. "Yes? Didn't we already cover this?"
"No, the stories are true," he emphasizes, looking like he might be sick. "If the wolves are real, the cold ones are too. What the fuck, Bells—you were dating a vampire?"
Bella pretends to fix her hair to avoid his gaze, mouth scrunching with distaste. "I…yeah, I will admit, not my best moment."
"Is that why they Sam and Paul told you—so you'd stay away form them if they came abck?"
A wince from her. "No, er I—I knew the whole time?"
He just blinks at her. "You knowingly dated a vampire. For almost a year."
"It's a possibility."
"Isabella Marie what the fuck. I knew my best friend was a trainwreck but that is next level shit—literally what is wrong with you?"
"I…" she shrugs helplessly at him. "Honestly so many things. Although…I mean, you know how weird I was the whole time, so unlike myself and everything. Paul noticed that my behavior was—well, really similar to an addict's. He has this theory that Edward's smell was literally drugging me, and that's why everything was…well, off. And then when they left, I would've been going through withdrawal…"
"Which is why you've been like a walking zombie for so long," his face fills with understanding. "Damn, girl. You've been through the ringer."
He reaches to lace his fingers through hers, careful so he doesn't jostle Paul's sleeping form. "Sorry I didn't know what was happening. And—that even now, I've been giving you grief about something that was hurting you."
Bella gives him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "It's okay. I didn't even know, how could you? I'm just glad you didn't give up on me."
"Never," he promises. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
(Far away, too far for Jacob to scent, red curls ripple in the wind.)