You have stolen all my senses
There's a fever in my heart
and you are taking my defenses
You are pulling me apart
Forever we're young and we are dying
and will spilling all our blood
So I will take away my feelings
I will be an animal
An animal

Animal – Ellie Goulding

Chapter 4: Jell-O

Lexi

The only thing worse than a guy certified as an asshole, was a guy that was both an asshole and so good looking that it kinda made you want to lick him.

Yeah. That's where I was at with Brady.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of Brady, working diligently on my father's garage in the yard below. I was currently watching him as he worked, practically salivating as his tan body arched and stretched with his movements. I had opened my eyes that morning and felt a pull towards the window; it was strange really, but I just chalked it up to my ever dwindling sanity.

What was I thinking?

I was crushing on the bad boy.

The boy no girl should ever like.

The boy that was guaranteed to break a heart.

The boy that had already done so to my best friend.

But as I watched him work, I seemed to forget every bit of information I knew about Brady.

He had torn the sleeves off of his t-shirt, exposing the sinewy, should-be-illegal muscles of his side.

Mmmm, I muttered to myself, letting my bedroom curtain fall closed again. Brady was below, on the side of the house starting work on our garage. For a jerk like him, he was definitely not hard to look at. At all. These are times when I felt that life simply wasn't fair. Somepeople get all the luck.

"Bad, bad, bad," I grumbled, picking up my cell phone. I hit Regan's number and waited as the phone rang on the other end. It was Saturday morning, and last night had been my first bonfire in La Push. It was great; the shores, the smell of the ocean surf, all reminded me of the home I'd left behind. And of course, I was surrounded by the hot local guys.

Too bad the only one that caught my attention was Brady.

Brady.

Why couldn't it have been anyone else but him? I wrinkled my nose and covered my eyes with my hand in defeat. Brady was so off limits it wasn't even funny! Regan had trusted me and told me about him and...here I was, drooling over him as he worked shirtless in my driveway. The pull...no, the urgeto watch him work was magnetic and almost impossible to resist.

"Hello?"

"I have an emergency."

Regan groaned on the other end of the line, and there was a great rustling of bedding as she dragged herself upright. "It had better be an emergency. What time is it?"

"Like eight. Whatever, just...um, Brady is totally in my backyard right now digging a hole."

"Who did he kill?" Regan quipped groggily.

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "Regan!"

"Too early," she grumbled again. "What are you saying now?"

"Brady is in my backyard, digging a hole."

She grunted. "I heard you the first time, but it still doesn't make any sense. What the heck is he doing there though?"

"My fathers hired him to build our garage. Can you believe it? And then they left, and now...now I have to make him lunch! I'm alone with him," I groaned, walking back over to the window. My feet dragged against the fluffy carpet in protest, but I still found myself gripping the edge of the window and staring with an open mouth at the view below.

And there he was, hot as always. Damn it! If it wasn't tempting enough already.

"Just ignore him."

"What about lunch?"

"Toss him some dog food and lock the doors?" she suggested.

I giggled. "Nice. My dad would kill me if I was that rude."

"Yeah, good point."

I sighed into the phone and snuck another peek at the deliciousness in my driveway.

"Well...at least you made a hot mistake Regan. Sheesh, that guy is pure muscle!"

"I know. Ulgh. Trust me though...bad news. Unless..."

"No, no, he's...not my type," I lied, laughing nervously. Of course he wasn't my type. I didn't even have a type back home. Okay fine – invisible. There. That was my type. Compared to the tall, blonde California girls back home I was a nobody.

"Well, 'hot' doesn't have to fall into a type," she pointed out.

I laughed. "Although seeing him now, I can't say that I blame you for your lapse in judgment."

"I'd also had about eight beers in the time of one hour. Don't suggest trying that," she muttered.

"Right," I agreed. "But he must have been nice at some point though, wasn't he?"

"The whole night is fuzzy to be honest. Look Lex, just ignore him. Eventually, he'll go away, right?"

"Right. I just wish he wasn't standing shirtless in my backyard."

"Ulgh, he's a snake," Regan muttered.

"I believe you. Ulgh, why do snakes have to come in such appealing packages?"

Regan giggled. "It's like...guy law. Almost all the smoking hot ones are either gay or complete dicks."

I laughed at her words before bidding her goodbye. She wished me luck and probably went back to bed. Meanwhile, I was left with a huge dilemma on my hands. I wanted to avoid him...but for some reason I could not. I was torn. What on earth was I going to do now? Reaching up, I twisted the end of my ponytail.

With shaky hands, I walked over to the window once again and pulled the curtain back. He was still digging shirtless, and I couldn't help but drool over him. A streak of anger entered my thoughts. What was I thinking? Brady hurt my best friend, I can't keep letting myself do this.Feeling like I had betrayed Regan, I decided that was the last drool I would allow myself.

"Don't be a freak," I whispered, trying to get my wits about me again. Lifting my chin up in the air, I gave his back my best determined glare. I would not fall for 'Asshole Brady' as I had nicknamed him. So what if he was hot? That didn't mean a damn thing. He had treated my friend badly, and that, in my book, was the biggest character flaw a person could ever have. I needed to get control over myself and not be a blubbering little idiot like I usually was in front of a hot guy.

Reaching for the door to my bathroom, I considered showering and putting on decent clothes, maybe a bit of makeup. No!I decided. If I didn't care, then what was the use of getting dressed up? Or even applying deodorant for that matter? If I really didn't care then...well, I couldn't look like I did.

With my new outlook, I stared out the window one last time at him. Who the hell was he anyway? Certainly no one special. Just some guy. So this is me not caring one bit. Oh god, does he have a six pack or an eight pack? His muscles just go on forever, I thought. Just as I bit my lip with lust, he turned and looked upward in the direction of my window. Does he have telepathy now, too?I thought with horror as I squeaked and jumped away, letting it fall back into place. Seeing the curtain close gave me a false sense of security as I fought to slow my racing heart.

I needed to get control. Fast.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Several hours later, I was leaning on the kitchen counter trying to maintain my 'I don't give a shit who you are' facade. I was debating doing my chemistry homework, which I knew would be a joke anyway since I had already taken that subject at my old high school. I was just starting to think of something else besides Brady when there was a knock on the side door.

I jumped, the lead in my mechanical pencil grinding down to the plastic as I doodled in the margins of my notes. Gritting my teeth, I turned to look over my shoulder.

Brady stood at the door, giving me a sultry looking wave. Trying my best to appear put out, I made my way to the door and yanked it open, turning away before he even had a chance to speak.

"Turkey and ham in the fridge...here's the bread," I said, tossing the loaf onto the counter. I walked back to the other end of the kitchen counter and pretended to pore over my chemistry notes. You could cut the silence in the air with a knife after that.

"Uh...I wasn't going to make you feed me. I can grab food after," he said quietly, giving the door a soft push. It clicked closed and I felt my heart quicken.

We were alone. In myhouse.

"So what do you want?" I heard myself ask, glancing up at him. My stomach twisted nervously as a pleasant feeling settled over my limbs. His chocolate gaze pulled me in, and I found myself anticipating what his answer would be. One look from this boy and I was like Jell-O. NO! I needed to pretend like I didn't care!

Damn it.

My inner thoughts were a blur as he slipped off his work boots and ambled into the kitchen like he owned the place. He had such a smooth, arrogant manner about him that I could see why Regan had her lapse in judgment.

Brady froze, his eyes going a little hazy like they did last night. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out for a few seconds.

"Uh...I just..."

"Yes?" I prodded. For a smooth and cocky bastard, he was suddenly tongue tied.

"I just...wanted to say sorry about last night."

I frowned at him. "Sorry? I was the one who called you a jerk."

His face slackened a bit from the tense expression he held, and he looked somewhat relieved. "Well, that's alright. I'm used to being classified as one of those," he answered, giving me a charming smile. He leaned on the counter across from me, giving me a nonchalant shrug.

At least he knows what he is, I thought, sitting upright.

"I'm self-aware," he explained with a knowing smirk.

"Well...good," I dished back.

He grinned. I felt my blood boil suddenly as thoughts of Regan entered my mind. This guy wasn't sorry at all. He seemed smug.

"Hey, I didn't say I didn't mean it. Regan told me all about you. You're just what I said," I maintained, giving him another stern glare.

His shoulders slumped and the smug grin faded as he shifted on his feet. "Look, I never said what I did to Regan was right," he finally said. "I'm sure Regan told you the truth about me. And you should believe her. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a liar. She's a good girl, and...I hate myself sometimes for what I did to her."

That threw me for a loop. He was admitting I was right? I had expected more of a fight.

"Wouldn't know it," I grumbled under my breath. He wasn't making me any less angry by agreeing with me. I almost wanted him to lie, fight back...anything. But he accepted it head on. "Have you ever even apologized to her?"

His face changed and his dark eyes flashed suddenly. "Hey now, it takes two to tango. What makes her so innocent? It's not like she wasn't all over me! Besides, she got her revenge when I ran my mouth, and her boyfriend rearranged my face."

I balked, picturing sweet, docile Seth Clearwater decking Brady in the face. Something told me he must have said something to provoke him – and if he did, then...he must have deserved it for Seth to do that. "Right, well...whatever. I never said she didn't partake, but you had to do something to have a guy like Seth practically give you a new face. Am I right?"

Brady grunted, his cheeks flushed and his jaw clenched. So he was beautiful angry too.

Great.

"When did people decide that Seth walked on water?" he hissed to himself. "She told you about that? Seth punching me?"

"Yeah, why?"

"So you asked about me," he smirked suddenly, cocking his head to the side. What was his deal? I found myselfwanting to deck him.

"She's one of my best friends. Of course she told me about that. What girls don't talk about guys who have screwed them over in the past? She warned me about you, fair and square."

He threw up his hands, obviously realizing he was backed into a corner. "I get it, okay? I was a dog to Regan. What do you want from me?"

"Nothing!" I gasped, my eyes going wide. I didn't want anything from him...did I? He was clearly a self-righteous, pompous asshole. My skin flushed as his eyes raked over me, still in my pajamas and zip up hoodie. He was checking me out! How dare this ass check me out while we were fighting! My heart sped up as feelings of loathing rolled off of me. It beat furiously in my chest as I came down from our argument.

Okay, so he was an asshole. That made my heart pump double time. Like I'm the first girl to fall for a hot guy who was also, incidentally, the biggest jerk.

Sue me.

He gave me another one of his smug grins that I was quickly growing tired of. "You're hot when you're angry."

My rage boiled over at his words. "Shut up!" I spat.

Anther silence as I stewed and he rallied.

He sighed heavily. "Look, I did Regan wrong. I'm sorry."

"I'm totally not the person you should be saying that to," I said quickly.

His eyes flashed again, a mixture of anger and surprise. Was he shocked that I was challenging him? He seemed to be caught off guard that I would fight him like this. I couldn't help it – I was stubborn to a fault, and I wasn't about to change that for anyone. Always had been, always would be. I watched as his face turned even redder, and he clenched the edge of the counter as he spat his words out at me.

"Look, would you just give me a damn chance?"

"At what?" I practically shouted, crossing my arms. Our voices echoed off the kitchen walls, and I was glad we didn't have neighbors close by. Surely they would have called the cops at our loud, heated exchange.

He sighed, shaking his head and running his hand through his inky hair. He had put his t-shirt back on to come inside, but as he raised his hand to touch his head, his shirt rode up. A tiny sliver of his tan abdomen was exposed, making me quiver where I stood.

I decided then and there that I loved to hate this cocky, arrogant, asshole standing in my kitchen. I felt my chest clench as I fought to hate him even more.

"I just want to start over. Will you at least tell me your name?"

"You know my name, we just met last night," I snapped. I walked over to the refrigerator, brushing past him so that our shoulders barely touched. Another pleasant wave of, well...something rushed through me as I opened the door to grab the lunch meat. Slapping it onto the counter, I took out a few condiments and some whole wheat bread as he sputtered to himself.

"I wanted to hear you say it," he said quietly, almost under his breath. I paused, my eyes flicking up to meet his dark ones. His expression was suddenly pleading. I felt my heart melt a little. This guy made me feel like a yo-yo, full of ups and downs.

"I was hoping," he continued in a calmer voice, "that we could maybe have a fresh start."

I swallowed. If I did this...there was no doubt in my mind that I would be a goner. I would fall for him even more than I already had.

"There's your stuff. Make what you want. I'll be upstairs," I muttered, shaking my head. I tried my best to ignore the nervous butterflies in my stomach as I brushed back past him. As fast as lightning, his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. Not hard, necessarily, but firm enough to make me stop in my tracks. Whipping around, I eyed his hand and let my eyes meet his.

That was my first mistake.

I was met with orbs of liquid brown chocolate, their darkness quickly encompassing my coherent thoughts...or what was left of them. I was unable to even think of my own name as his eyes stared into mine. His fiery hand seemed to pulsate where our skin met.

"Lexi...just...just wait. I'm sorry, okay? If it means that much to you, I'll go apologize to her today – now, even."

"Why do you care so much about what I think?" I asked, my voice a shaky whisper. The energy humming between our bodies was making me dizzy.

"What will it take for you to give me another chance?" he asked, blatantly ignoring my question.

"I don't think she cares, honestly. She has other things on her mind," I insisted quietly, jerking my arm away from his hand. My mind flashed to Seth and the way Regan turned a deep shade of pink whenever he was around. With a guy like Seth around, something told me Regan didn't give a rat's ass what Brady was doing. His shoulders relaxed a bit as he let go of my arm, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

"Well...could we at least just start over?"

"Why does it matter?" I prodded, turning my head to look at him. I quickly let my eyes look anywhere but at his when he gave me a look similar to a kicked puppy. A kicked golden retriever puppy. Oh shit, I was already turning to Jell-O again.

"Well...for starters, I'm going to be here every day over your spring break. Don't you think it would be nice, uh...to get to know the help?" he asked, jokingly. He seemed to wince slightly after speaking as if he knew what he'd just said was lame.

I shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. Of course I wanted to start over with him – he was trying to be nice. However, I knew I would have to tread carefully. He was not to be trusted, and I'd rather be safe than sorry. But in a way, it felt like letting Brady in would be betraying Regan. How could I play nice with the guy that had used her once and thrown her away like it was nothing?

"I'm not sure I can do that," I admitted, still standing next to him like a dummy.

"Why not? Give me one good reason," he argued.

I opened my mouth to give him a slew of them when he sensed this and held up his hands.

"Okay, bad thing to say. Just...I want to start over. I'm not asking you to move to Antarctica. Just tell me your name."

"You know my name. You've said it," I pointed out, taking a step back. He moved towards me, mirroring my actions. His dark gaze fixed mine as he stepped even closer. Before I knew it, I was backed up against the door of the pantry, and he was standing a foot in front of me. His tall frame towered over mine as I felt my heart start racing again.

Something made him smirk.

"I just want to hear you say it, I told you."

"Um," I stuttered, "L-Lexi."

"Lexi..." he repeated, almost reverently. "I'm Brady. It's nice to meet you."

I watched his lips move as he said my name firmly, as if he was hearing it spoken for the first time. A strange look appeared in his eyes – the same dopey look from the bonfire. He straightened up as it faded, nodding.

"You're such a creep," I laughed lamely, shaking my head.

He shrugged, ignoring my comment. "Short for anything?"

I glared at him. "Alexandria. But everyone calls me Lexi. Maybe someday I'll grow into the first one," I muttered.

"Well, you are short."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

We exchanged playful glares. I slid away from the door, huffing under my breath. I walked back over to the kitchen island where I had put the lunchmeat. I began to fiddle with it to try to look busy. This jerk was certainly making me so nervous!

He chuckled happily, the sound ringing against the walls of the white kitchen as he followed me to where the food was.

"I'm already under your skin," he announced smugly. I glared sideways at him before putting some extra distance between us. He laughed happily again as I busied myself with some food. If there was one thing I could always do, it was eat – no matter how nervous he made me.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, never mind. Ah, care if I make a turkey club?"

"I was going to make the same thing," I admitted, opening up the bread. It's just lunch, I told myself. Nothing more. There was nothing to get excited about – he just wanted some food and so did I. I realized that I had been on tenterhooks all morning to even think about eating, and I was actually starving.

"Same sandwich...must mean we're meant to be."

I rolled my eyes. "Or it just means we both like the same kind of sandwich that I'm sure a third of the country enjoys eating," I pointed out.

"Damn girl, cut me some slack. Just trying to talk to you."

"Then don't talk to me like I'm a piece of ass. Do you even know how to talk to a real girl?"

"Um-"

"For starters, don't call me 'girl'. You made such a show of asking for my name, well...I told you and you know it. Now use it," I snapped.

"Damn..." he laughed. "You're a pistol. You hide it well. Ah well, makes sense anyway."

"What makes sense?"

"Nothing. So um...Lexi," he said pointedly, "You're from California?" he asked, opening the fridge again. He moved around like he owned the place; helping himself with the fridge contents, digging out the lettuce and tomatoes and sliding the mayo over to me like he was a professional. I microwaved some turkey bacon and toasted our bread as I spoke.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Your dad told me. I've worked with him every day for three months, remember?"

"Oh, right," I replied, twisting the mayo open. I began to anxiously prepare my sandwich, watching as he did the same.

"Are you...from here?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said flatly, "born and raised, never getting out I'm sure."

"You could always move. Did you go to college?"

"No," he responded in the same tone. "My job kept me here, you could say."

"Washington is nice though, right?"

He gave me an incredulous look as he stacked up the items for his sandwich. "Seriously? It rains almost every day, and it's only warm four months out of the entire year. Most of the state is covered in moss. I dunno, doesn't seem like the most logical place for a California beach girl to be happy in."

I felt my blood boil for the second time that day. "Don't assume."

"Well?"

"For your information, I'm not a beach bum. Why does everyone who doesn't live in California think that all we do in that state is lie around on the beach all day, surfing and working on our tans? I've never even been surfing. I worked in a surf shop, but it was mainly for pretty boy wannabees to get their preppy clothes at. We only sold a surfboard once a month," I snapped, putting my hands on my hips.

Brady's eyebrows raised up to his forehead. "Well, you sure told me then," he teased.

My shoulders slumped as I realized how defensive I was. But I knew I needed to be – this guy was a known snake, and I had to show him that I wasn't just some weak little girl ready to fall at his feet.

"I loved California, and…I miss it. But I wanted to be here instead."

"So why did you move?" he asked.

His question made the tips of my ears turn red. I didn't want to get into my whole life story at the moment. I knew that he knew my dad was gay, but...the hurt the whole ordeal had caused my family was still too fresh to rehash. He was practically a stranger after all.

"Um...I just need a change I guess."

He nodded, seeming to understand. "Oh well...that's cool."

I paused, trying to think of something to break the awkward silence that had suddenly settled over the kitchen.

"I might go back to California to go to college. Spend summers with my dad; spend the rest of the year closer to my mom. I'm not sure yet."

He glanced up at me, his dark eyebrows knitting together. "So, you're already planning your escape from Forks then?

"No. Just keeping my options open," I answered, stacking my sandwich together. I took a big bite and chewed, avoiding his gaze.

"Ah," he said, putting the final slice of bread on his creation. I swallowed, standing up to move back toward the fridge.

"Soda?"

"Sure. Got Dr. Pepper?"

I froze with my hand on the handle, biting my lip. "You like that too?"

"It's just soda," he mocked me from earlier. "I'm sure a third of the country likes it," he added in a girlish voice.

I glared at him, taking two out.

"Give me a break. No one ever has it. It's just the first thing that comes out of my mouth when someone offers me soda. Relax."

I slid one over the counter toward him, cracking my own open as I made my way back to my seat – four bar stools down from his.

"Loud and clear," he chuckled under his breath before taking a bite of his food. We ate in awkward silence until I asked the only other question I could think of.

"So how long is this whole building project going to last?" I finally asked, taking another sip of my drink.

"Oh a year, maybe two," he replied nonchalantly, giving me a nod.

Choosing the wrong time to take a drink, I choked as the soda went down the wrong way. I felt my face turn red as Brady jumped up and patted me firmly on the back a few times.

"Are you okay? Breathe!" he commanded, crouching down to look in my tearing eyes. I coughed and hacked a few times, shaking my head as the soda finally stopped burning in my throat.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I said, holding back a giggle as I wiped my mouth. "Sheesh, you think I was gonna die or something?"

"Remind me never to tell you a joke while you're drinking soda," he sighed. "I was kidding, actually. Just a month or two...don't choke yourself."

I glared at him as I took a quick sip of water at the sink. "Funny."

He leaned back in his chair, finishing the last of his food. He has practically inhaled his sandwich, and I took that as a hint. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

I only rolled my eyes.

"I'd best get back to work. Don't choke on anything while I'm gone," he chuckled. I shot him a dirty look as he stood up, putting his paper plate in the trash and chugged the rest of his Dr. Pepper.

"Two months, Lex. It will take about two months," he finally said after securing his boots again.

"Great."

"Oh and Lex?" he asked, opening the door. I looked up expectantly, still humiliated from choking. I felt my heart speed up as he said my name again.

"You shoulda seen your face!" he cackled before slamming the door behind him.

I exhaled sharply, my shoulders slumping once again. This was going to be a long few weeks. It was barely noon, and I was already exhausted from the emotional roller coaster Brady has put me through, making me feel drained. One thing was for certain though.

I loved to hate him.

*Sigh* Can't you just feel the sexual tension already? : ) Things will get hot between these two - in more ways than one. What did you think of Brady's self assessment? Do you agree, or do you think he's playing the sympathy card?

Love to hear your thoughts! Please review.