I've taken too long to update, I know. Please dont hate me. I suddenly seem to have a social life (booo) So without further ado... Be gentle with me - The boy least likely to...

I hummed as I stood in line at the bakery, waiting to grab some lunch before going back to the theatre. I leaned over to check out the display. I was in a good mood and good moods always meant chocolate. I looked to see if they had my favourite triple chocolate muffins and almost passed out. Just one left and there were 5 people ahead of me.

Please let them all be allergic to chocolate. Please let them all ignore it. Please let the caramel one look better.

The first three people didn't take my sweet baked good of joy and I sighed with relief. We were on the home stretch, only one old woman directly in front of me.

She needs to cut down on sugar, anyway. Commence happy dance.

"I'll have the triple chocolate muffin."

Someone will die today... preferably from choking on a triple chocolate muffin.

I made a dying animal sound that earned me a stare from the old bag. Smiling apologetically, I scanned the display for a less-worthy substitute for my sugar craving. I almost groaned out loud, wanting to smack myself for not getting down here earlier.

"I'll have a blueberry muffin, please," I mumbled at the cheerful assistant.

"They really are yummy." She grinned, trying to convince me.

They're not as good as Emily's. They're not as big and they remind me of the sex I should be having.

"I know," I pouted like a petulant child, grabbing the bag and making my way outside to a nearby park bench. There was already someone sitting on the other end. I kept my head down, glancing sideways at my companion till I noticed the bag from the same bakery.

That better be carrot cake in there or this park bench will witness the greatest case of muffin-related violence in the history of the world.

I think I held my breath as what I believed were "manly" hands ripped the bag open, unveiling a dark brown dome of chocolaty goodness.

Narrating muffin porn...another career option.

I whimpered as he lifted it to his mouth. He paused.

Shit.

I shuffled my bag, hoping to seem less creepy.

"Mumbly?"

Those blue eyes.

"Tree guy?" I ventured.

Did I mention I have great social skills?

"It's Aiden, but tree guy's good, too," he chuckled. I never realised he had an accent.

A sexy British accent...sigh.

"Yeah...it's..."

"Bella, I know. It's just that whenever I see you, you seem to be mumbling. All the time." He pronounced it 'Bell-er' which made me want to giggle and sigh simultaneously.

"Yeah, I tend to do that."

He scooted closer, brushing some errant crumbs off his jeans.

"So, Bella, tell me about yourself. Maybe it'll help to mumble out loud."

We chatted for what felt like ages. He was twenty-four, originally from some place called Staffordshire, in England, and he had decided to get into set design and props after watching Star Wars.

I bet he lives in his mum's basement.

"I live in an apartment, by the way. My mum kicked me out when I was 18..." He laughed when he saw my expression. "I meant that in a good way. She and dad decided they were gonna sell the house and get a motor home. They're currently touring the whole of America."

"Awww, that's nice. You must miss them."

"Yeah, I do. They keep in touch, though. Calls, email, an occasional webcam session."

I told him all about Charlie and Renee and life at Forks. He seemed genuinely interested and asked lots of questions. When he broached the subject of friends I mentioned Seth and Jacob briefly before I started blushing and moved onto high school friends.

"You want..." he held out his uneaten muffin.

"Nah, I'm good."

Must...resist... the chocolate.

"What have-?"

"Blueberry."

Jacob...

"Blueberry's good." He smiled.

"Oh, blueberry's more than good." I sighed, stuffing my face to avoid his stare. I wiped my hands on my jeans and crumpled up the paper, lobbing it at a nearby trashcan.

Score!

"So Mumbella... Am I gonna see you again?"

"Of course you will. At the theatre..."

"I mean, apart from work? Unless you already have a..." He rubbed at the nape of his neck.

"Oh... yeah, sure. I mean no, I'm not seeing anyone..."

Exclusively, that is...

"We can, err..." I twirled my hand, trying to buy some time.

Somewhere safe somewhere safe somewhere safe ding ding ding... Seth.

"Why don't you come over for dinner on Friday? I make a mean chicken casserole and you can meet my roommate."

I thought I saw his face fall for a second before he composed himself and gave me a big grin. I almost bit into my fingers instead of the muffin.

Jeez, those teeth should come with a warning.

"Sure, that would be great! As long as I'm not intruding." He stood up, holding out his hand to help me up.

"Not at all!" I smiled, taking his hand. His long fingers squeezed mine briefly before letting go. We walked back to the theatre and I didn't see him till the end of the day, when he threw me a quick wave goodbye. I steeled myself for the confrontation with Seth at home and started walking. We hadn't spoken since our flare-up at the beach and he had kept his distance, hitching a ride with Mia instead. I didn't care. I had better things to do.

...In bed.

The elevator dinged and I was hit by a smell that made my mouth water.

Damn... should have bought take-out.

The smell only got stronger as I walked to our door. I did a mental fist pump when I realised it was coming from our apartment.

You'll regret that fist pump when it's some psycho waiting to add YOU as the main ingredient. Do humans taste like chicken? If you never tasted chicken, what would you compare weird things to? Tastes like tofu?

Seth was hunched over the stove, stirring at a smoking wok. A "Kiss the Cook" apron hung around his neck. I dropped my bag on the counter.

"Is that stir-fry?"

He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and smiled nervously.

"Yeah. I called Charlie to ask what your favourite was, but he had no idea."

"So you just guessed? Impressive for someone who doesn't read minds." I smiled back, drumming my fingernails on the counter.

"Actually..." he tugged at the apron, "...I asked Jake. He said it was one of your favourites. But I didn't mean to – I just wanted you to stop being mad at me and I know you don't like to fight and I'm..."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a hug. He gripped me tight and whimpered into my hair, "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me anymore."

I patted his broad back, smiling into his shoulder. "Silly kid, I could never be mad at you."

He pulled away, a doubtful look on his face. His hands were still on my waist.

"Fine," I shrugged. "So I was mad. But only for a little while." I held up my thumb and index finger with a small space between them.

Seth snorted before moving my fingers to widen the gap. "Yeah, now that looks about right."

"What's important is that we're ok."

"Yeah, and I promise, Bells, I won't ever meddle in your stuff again."

"Oh, I don't mind you meddling. Just don't let me know if... when… you err... see things, cause you might be seeing them more frequently from now on."

The phone began to ring. I paused to close Seth's mouth. His lower jaw was slowly starting to look like it was made by ACME.

"Bella, what the... we need to..." He stammered as I held up a finger and said hello.

"Bells." His husky voice made me shiver.

"Jake, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just wanted to check up on you. You got time for a chat?"

I chewed on my fingernail, watching Seth do a rain dance, trying to get my attention.

"Yeah, sure. Can you hold on for a bit?"

"Sure."

I covered the receiver and hissed at Seth, "Later." His face was grim. I'd deal with him after Jake's call. I was halfway up the stairs when he yelled something, but I just waggled my fingers at him and listened to Jake telling me about his day at the garage and on patrols.

"How was yours?"

"Oh, the usual, brats, stage parents..."

Hot guy with muffin…

"...I'm just so tired." I fell back on the bed, rubbing the back of my neck and as I flipped my shoes off.

"I wish I could help you relax."

"You are."

"I mean really relax."

"Mmmm...I really wouldn't mind one of your massages right now." My puny hands were doing nothing to ease the knots.

"Anything else?"

He was smirking. I knew it.

"Jake," I said in my best "not now" voice.

"So. What are you wearing?"

Persistent little...

"Jacob Black!" I hissed as he chuckled. "You are not trying to do what I think you're trying to do right now."

"Maybe, but I suggest keeping your voice down. Don't want Seth to know what you think we're doing."

"We're not doing anything!"

Then why are you whispering, you shameless...

"Not yet." His voice was low. "But remember that time in the shower?"

I squeezed my legs together and tried to ignore the growing ache between them.

"None of the Rez girls around?"

Score one for Swan.

"It's called phone sex for a reason, Bells. If I needed the ordinary kind..."

Score one for Black.

"You're not getting any. Phone or otherwise."

"So...about that time in the shower."

I remembered that time in the shower well...too well.

Hot, sweaty, soapy, slippery, Jake talking dirty to me while I... and FOCUS!

I stopped my hand from creeping up my top, rubbing my stomach as a way of distracting myself.

"Bells?"

"Err... yeah... time in the shower." I swallowed nervously.

Was it getting hot?

"I wish I could taste you right now."

Oh, hell.

"Uh-huh." I hoped he couldn't hear my rapid breathing.

"Your lips, your neck..."

I whimpered in response.

"...your inner thigh."

"Jake," I moaned. "Are you..."

"Yeah...why don't you..."

"Do a little dance... make a little love... get down tonight!" A voice sang on the phone. I heard Seth yelling in the background.

"PAUL!" We yelled in unison. I pulled down my shirt hurriedly, as if he could see me.

"Get off the phone, dick head!" Jacob growled.

An evil chuckle preceded the click.

"Jake, I have to go."

"One of these days, Bells..." His voice was low and full of promise.

Dirty, dirty promise.

I sighed. "Bye, Jacob."

I put the phone back in its cradle, sighing again before doing the walk of shame downstairs. This was starting to become a habit. Paul was sitting on the counter grinning while Seth set the table. He bit into an apple, a wicked glint in his eye.

Does that guy ever stop eating?

Seth looked up from the plates.

"I'm sorry, Bells. I tried to stop him."

I waved him off. Only Jake could fight with Paul and win...and maybe Sam and definitely Rachel. Paul hopped off his stool, putting the apple core in the bin before grabbing a chair at the table.

"Bells?" He looked between the two of us. "Does Jacob know you call her that?"

Seth visibly blanched, stammering out a no.

"Seth can call me anything he wants. Last time I checked, my name wasn't copyrighted by anyone."

Paul snickered, raising an eyebrow in Seth's direction. "Try telling that to his Alpha."

"Yeah, well, I don't belong to anybody." I sat down as Seth, still shaken, brought the rice to the table.

"So, Paul, what brings you around here?" I was desperate to change the subject. The constant smirking was starting to get on my nerves.

"Meet a cousin," he said between bites. "Seth said I could crash. I hope you don't..."

He looked apologetic.

As much as he bugged me, Paul was a good guy and had looked out for Jacob and Seth more times than I could count. I smiled warmly.

"That's fine, Paul, you can always crash here. No need to ask."

"How's Jacob?" Seth suddenly asked while pointedly staring at me. Paul caught our silent exchange.

"He's great. The local girls are keeping him busy."

I choked on a piece of carrot, coughing violently into my napkin. Seth looked like he was about to lunge across the table and deliver the Heimlich. I held up my hand, trying to stop the carrot from going down my wind pipe.

Killed by a carrot. Giant bunny thought to be accomplice.

Clearing my throat, I pushed the food around my plate, trying to look nonchalant.

"The...err...local girls?"

"Yeah, Jake's hot property on the Rez, especially since he hasn't imprinted yet. Not that any of those chicks know about that voodoo. They just wanna tap that."

"And does Jake do any... tapping?" The rice made pretty patterns on my plate. There was no answer so I looked up. They shrugged in unison.

"The walls have gotta break sometime, Bella, considering how many of them are hurling themselves against it."

I swallowed nervously. "There are...there are lots of them?"

"A few." Paul waved his fork as he counted. "Ten at least that come by the garage every other day. 'Oh, Jake, my windows won't go up.' 'Oh, Jacob, there's a teeny tiny scrape right under the brake light.' " He squeaked, flapping his hands.

"Wow, business must be real good." I took another bite.

"Yeah, considering most of them damage their cars on purpose." They both laughed. I did not.

"Nothing brings in more cash than Jake bending over an engine." Seth grinned.

"Yeah, the tighter the jeans, the better. Shirtless and we hit the jackpot." They fell about laughing again for a good five minutes before Paul casually stated, "Then there are others."

"Erm... others?" My insides were doing the dance of the seven million flails.

"Oh, yeah." Paul nodded seriously. "Dozens."

"Remember that time at the club? The strippers were practically shoving the bills down his pants."

He sounds like a total fan boy.

"Strip club?"

Echo much?

"Yeah, it was a while ago." Seth noticed the look in my eyes. "While you were still with Edward."

"Oh, yeah... I just asked... not that I care... just..."

Ooooh corn!

Seth, sensing my discomfort, changed the subject. We talked about Rachel and the wedding for the rest of the night. I asked Seth to make up the couch for Paul while I started on the dishes. Paul grabbed a soapy plate, grinning at me before rinsing it under the tap.

"Can I give you some advice?" he blurted out, looking back over his shoulder to see if Seth was around. He had gone upstairs to get some pillows.

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Play the field."

"What?" The plate I was washing slipped, hitting the bottom of the sink with a splash and a thud. Paul was unfazed.

"I know whatever you guys have is not exclusive or anything. Stick to those terms. Look around."

"But Jake..."

"What makes you think he's not sticking to the rules?" My heart dropped to my feet. "He's done this before, Bella. Trust me, keep your options open. It's called friends with benefits for a reason."

He wiped his hands on a dish towel and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"It's meant to be fun, Bella. Loosen up," he murmured. I looked over my shoulder to see Seth laying out the blanket.

"Yeah, fun," I muttered back.

Ooooooh evil Paul.... *snickers* *mars bars*

LOVE LOVE LOVE to my ninja Mafia for always listening to my word vomit and being excited no matter what I write.

And LOVE to everyone who reviews, favourites or subscribes to this sillyness. A smirky Twi-boy or girl for each of you. So let me know what you think. Is Paul the worst friend in history? Has Jake stuck to the terms? Dun dun dunnnn....

Till Chapter 15 Muah!