38

I'm wiping my greasy handprints off the hood when Bella finds me. Unlike Angela, she's all but bouncing in excitement. "You sent Rabbit to talk to me about a boy."

"I did."

She steps forward and throws her arms around me in an almost too-tight hug, not caring that I'm a filthy mess and probably going to ruin her shirt. "Thank you," she mumbles.

I can't help it. I give in to the urge and embrace the vampire who's taken over my every waking, and a lot of my sleeping, thoughts. "You're welcome."

Bella pulls away and grimaces. "You smell really, really bad. Tell me what you want for dinner and go take a shower. I'm forcing the girls to go with me to pick the food."

"Beef and broccoli with fried rice. My wallet is on the table by the front door. There should be enough cash, but take the credit card just in case."

She rolls her eyes.

"Bella ..." I warn.

"Fine. I need to run by V.C. to pick up my supply. I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I took them with me."

"I don't mind." I lean in, ignoring her tantalizing scent, and whisper, "But please don't let Jane eat them."

Bella laughs and leaves me in the garage to gather my bearings. By the time I've regained control of myself and cleaned up, the house is empty.

How Bella convinced Alice to go with her is beyond me. She's cordial but makes it no secret that she isn't Bella's biggest fan. Her punishment has been up for weeks, but she hasn't brought her boyfriend around once.

I'm pretty sure he's afraid of Bella, and I find it hilarious. After taking a thorough shower, I set up the coffee table for dinner.

It's a tradition to eat in the living room when we order Chinese. The twins will bicker over which movie to rent. And then they'll argue over the last of the egg rolls. No Chinese night ends without them fighting over fortune cookies.

The only thing I can't prepare is a cup of blood for Bella. She wasn't kidding when she said she needed to pick up her supply.

I'm flipping through movies on On-Demand, trying to find something that will please both girls, when the front door flies open, smashing against the wall. There's a wail, and I catch the backside of Alice as she disappears up the stairs. Her bedroom door slams shut so hard a picture frame hanging on the staircase bounces down the steps before shattering into a million pieces.

"Alice!" Angela cries, rushing through the door and up the stairs, avoiding the glass.