~ Let's get spicy - Mature Warning - Honestly it makes me pretty uncomfortable to write spicy scenes, so this was really challenging for me. It's definitely helped me grow as a writer. ~

Renesmee

"There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice." – F. Scott Fitzgerald

I spent most of my days either at Sam and Emily's helping prepare for the baby, or at Jake's cabin.

It wasn't lost on me that he'd had me weigh in on every decision – cabinets, paint, tile, you name it. At this point, I was just waiting for him to ask me when I could move in. The thought gave me butterflies.

I'd make the mistake of thinking about it in front of my father a few weeks ago, and if he could physically erupt in anger, I think he would have. After a pointed look from Mom, he'd settled back down, never having said a word aloud. From then on, we just ignored the topic altogether, and when I'd slink home late, he made no comment other than to say he was glad I was home. He knew he was still on thin ice with me after I'd learned of the agreement he'd strong-armed Jake into.

The nursery, in contrast, was coming along nicely. We'd just hosted a shower for Emily this afternoon, and rare Sunday sunshine poked through the clouds. Kim, Leah, and I were putting away the gifts from the shower while Emily swayed in the rocker, pointing a swollen finger to direct us. I noted lots of gifts for a baby boy, even though they weren't planning to find out for sure. Technically, it was still a toss-up. I'd mentioned to Sam once in passing that my mom was also sure I was a boy. He wasn't pleased.

"How is Adam, Leah?" Emily asks.

Word had traveled fast that Leah had imprinted; by the time Leah was done with her next shift, half the pack already knew. I could tell that Leah was mortified, but what could she do? There was nothing to be done, nowhere to hide with pack mind. After Leah had begged him repeatedly, Jake reorganized the patrol shifts so Leah and Seth wouldn't be on together and share thoughts. That needed no explanation, and I wondered why it hadn't occurred sooner.

"He's fine," she says simply, but Kim and I share a look at Leah's tone, which is telling a different story. We stop what we're doing, waiting for her to elaborate. "He asked me to meet him in Port Ludlow for the weekend," she says, pretending to fold the onesie in her hand.

"Are you going?" I ask, already knowing the answer. The way Jake had explained it, Leah was at Adam's mercy. If he wanted to meet her, she had to go.

She nods, giving up on folding and crumpling the onesie in her hands. "I feel like a home wrecker."

Emily shifts in the rocker. "Leah, you can't help it. You said he's unhappy, anyway, right?"

"Yeah, but his wife's not." A silence hung in the air before Kim pulled out a random rattle and showed it to Emily, changing the subject.

I wonder if Leah had plans to tell Adam about being a wolf. I'd been born into this supernatural world. Adam was, on the surface, a normal, well-to-do man from Seattle, who had no idea of the realm that existed under his nose – or in his sheets, for that matter.

I drop by Jake's shop the following day to bring him some lunch. I knew that among the wolves, the garage, the cabin, and keeping up with a consistent food schedule, the last would suffer the most.

"Hey beautiful," he calls. "I'll be done in just a minute." I set the food down on the small table and perch in one of the only two chairs he kept in his workspace. Whenever I read my books here, I propped my feet in the other. Now, I wait for Jake to fill it, staring over at him hard at work.

The image reminded me of a dream I'd had long ago, of us in this garage. It was the first day I recognized I was developing feelings for Jake. Now, having had an actual taste of him, knowing what his lips felt like against mine, the fantasy made me ache. The way his muscles moved under his shirt now did absolutely nothing to stifle my longing.

He throws down his wrench, wiping his hands with a nearby rag. He flips the sign on the door to "Back soon" and turns the lock before coming to sit across from me. "What's for lunch? I'm starving."

"Me, too." And then before he has a chance to say anything else, I stand up, walk over, and straddle his lap.

"Nessie, what…" he tries to ask me what I'm doing, but he loses his train of thought as my lips find his neck. He groans, the noise vibrating my lips. One of his hands floats up to grab my hip tightly, and the other finds the back of my neck, pulling my lips up to his. His touch could light me on fire.

I reach out with my tongue to taste him, a mix of sweat and the peppermint gum he'd likely been chewing earlier. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he kisses me hard before tipping my head back to gain access to my throat. He sucks at the pulse point there; a whimper escapes me as my lips fall open. His lips travel lower, hovering just above the neckline of my blouse. The thumb of the hand on my hip slips under my shirt and touches the chilled skin there. I wonder if he can feel the goosebumps he's giving me.

I find the bottom of his shirt with my hands and pull it over his head, chucking it aside as my hands and lips explore new territory. I run my fingers across his muscles, tense as he holds me tightly. I find his lips with mine again, hoping to distract him as my hands move toward his jeans.

He exhales sharply against my lips as I graze his growing erection. I pull back, resting my forehead on his as I undo the button and zipper. I glance at him. His eyes are squeezed shut and he is biting hard on his bottom lip. I don't take time to question my actions as I reach inside his pants – I am scared if I pause long enough, if I hesitate at all, he will stop me, or I will doubt myself and fumble.

I free him from the cage caused by his jeans, and I take a deep breath as I look down, wrapping my hand around him tentatively. I knew that wolves tended to be… large. All my wildest fantasies had not prepared me for Jake's size, or how it would make me actually feel. This had to be the warmest part of Jake. My palm felt as if I'd touched a hot stove. So did my insides. "Fuck," he grunts, hands gripping the armrests of his chair forcefully. I can hear his heart pounding hard in his chest – or maybe that's mine. I like seeing what I can do to him; it makes me feel powerful. I stroke him, trying different angles and grip strengths, watching his face to see what he likes, what he wants more of.

He thrusts to match my strokes, and his exhales comes out sharp, jagged as he tries to catch his breath. My mouth waters as I imagine tasting him. I slip off his lap and onto the floor slowly, never taking my eyes off him. His eyes fly open just in time to watch me take him in my mouth. He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the armrests so hard that I hear the wood splinter. I study his face as I experiment again – but he seems to be liking everything I do.

I swirl the tip with my tongue before taking all of him in my mouth again, and he growls, "Ness, I—" but is unable to utter a coherent word as he releases. I like the way he tastes in my mouth, and I lick my lips, wanting to savor it.

I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, and stand to my feet. By the time I am seated in my chair once again, my heartbeat, at least, has nearly returned to normal. "Sandwiches," I say, in response to his question.

He blows out a deep breath, before saying, "You're going to kill me," flashing me a brilliant smile.

Snow turns back to rain as February turns to March. Emily's stomach continues to grow as she inches toward her due date, and Leah continues her affair with Adam as if he wasn't married. He's going to leave, she says, almost mechanically, whenever anyone asks her about it. I wonder who she's trying to convince.

We are at the cabin one Saturday afternoon, painting the spare bedroom while Jake works in the kitchen, when she says it again, seemingly out of nowhere. "He's going to leave."

"Have you told him about… the wolf thing?" I question, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.

"Not exactly," she admits, leaning on the sides of her feet. I stop, paintbrush resting against the wall, and give her a look. "I was going to," she continues, "last weekend. But it's just… It's fine right now. It's good. I don't want to fuck it up. What if I tell him, and…" she throws her hand in the air with exasperation, paint flinging onto the tarp below our feet. She lets out a quick breath of nervous laughter.

I set the paintbrush in the drip bucket softly. "Not that this is any of my business, but is it really fair of you to ask him to love every part of you, when he doesn't know every part of you?"

"You're right," she groans. "I have half a mind to go to Seattle right now and lay it all out on the table. Every screwy corner of my mind."

"Why don't you?" I suggest. "You could be there by, what, 7:30?" I'm really not a fan of ultimatums, but it seemed to be Leah's only option at this point.

She weighs her options, and then throws the paint brush down toward the drip bucket, more paint splattering onto the tarp. "Let's go."

"Wait, what?"

"You're driving. This is your brilliant idea; you get to watch me lead myself to the slaughter."

I give Jake a quick kiss on the way out, promising I'll explain later. I had no idea when Leah had decided I was going to be her confidant. I remembered back to the bonfire in October, when she'd secretly filled my glasses with whiskey, probably doing it to annoy Jake more than anything. Regardless, she felt strongly enough toward me now to drag me along to witness whatever what going to happen between her and Adam.

The drive is, surprisingly, not as awkward as I would have imagined. She spends most of it questioning whether we should just turn around. I keep driving, and by the time the Seattle skyline comes into view, she is shaking.

She directs me to an apartment building in Queen Anne. I pull up to the curb and park the car. "Leah, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. I deserve to know. Either way." Even her voice is trembling as she reaches for the door handle. I have never seen Leah so scared.

"You do," I confirm with a strong nod. "I'll wait right here."

"If you can hear me making a fool of myself, go down a block or two." She jokes, and then opens the car door. I lock it behind her and watch her enter the building.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the radio, I find nothing and dial Jake's number instead. When he picks up, his voice fills the car—and my heart. "Hey Ness."

"Hey. Sorry for rushing off earlier. I somehow accidentally convinced Leah to go to Seattle and confront Adam."

"Wow. How's that going?" And then he adds, "You're in Seattle?"

"I am. I can see the Space Needle from this apartment. I bet the rent is ridiculous." I grab a lock of hair and twirl it around my finger. "She went in about five minutes ago and hasn't come out yet. That's a good sign, right?"

"Have you seen any weeping divorcees?"

"None of those, either," I laugh.

He returns a chuckle into the receiver. It warms my bones. "Maybe Leah killed her."

I snicker, asking, "What are you doing?"

"About to head to Sam's, I think. I'm running out of time to figure out this Beta and Third situation and I want to pick his brain."

"I thought you'd decided on Leah for Beta."

"I thought I had, but I think Jared deserves a spot as well, but then again, don't Seth and Paul? It doesn't feel like there's a perfect solution."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," I reassure him.

We chat for a few more minutes before he signs off. I watch the people on the sidewalks around me. Although I can't hear Leah and Adam – I tried – I could hear these people's conversations perfectly.

The couple walking across the street is discussing their plans for the next day; they need to visit his mother because they haven't seen her in a few weeks. She doesn't like his mother. He knows that. It's still his mother.

There's a group of friends that is walking in the direction of my car. One of the friends had asked for the waitress' number at dinner, and he'd been rejected. One of the girls offers to buy him a drink to make up for his heartbreak. I think she likes him.

I study their faces as they pass by me, illuminated by street lights. I almost feel guilty; they probably don't know they're being watched. I make up stories for them in my head, drawing trajectories of the lives of nameless passersby until I see the apartment building door open.

Leah exits and make a beeline for my car. She's fighting tears. I unlock the car as she slides in smoothly and clicks the seatbelt. I glance up at the building, and I see a curtain flutter closed. She doesn't have to say anything; I put the car in drive and head back to the coast.