Chapter 3 has arrived! We are on a roll people! This one is super cute IMHO. I know I said I wouldn't make it sad but Jacob just takes over the story every time! He has such deep feelings he needs to let them out! But this one isn't as sad as the last one so don't fret. I promise to make the next one a fun one!

Like I said, no plot or rhyme or reason. Just snap shots of their friendship.

Song of the Chapter:

Seven by Taylor Swift (Check out her new album Folklore its so good!)

Story is mine, characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Enjoy my little chickens!

"Hair"

I ran my fingers through his smooth strands in a slow soft caress. He leaned his head back slightly closing his eyes. I gently started to pull his brush through his hair from his crown down to his shoulder blades. My hand followed the brush to smooth the freshly untangled hairs. The only sounds surrounding us was the sound of the brush pulling through his hair, the soft ticking of the clock in the kitchen, and our breathing growing heavy. I smiled as his head began to tilt farther into my hands almost touching my lap. "Hmmm," he sighed, "-feels good, Bells," he breathed.

He was seated on the carpet in front of me, his long legs stretched out under the coffee table. I was seated behind him on the couch with his hair pooling into my lap.

I laughed quietly at his serene expression. "Jake," I softly scolded. "You need to keep your head up." I said and continued to run my hands through his silky strands. The clean scent of his shampoo wafted up to my nose making my cheeks grow slightly pink. My mind wandered to him lathering his black, silky strands in a steamy shower, water trailing from his hair to his torso and down…

I dug my fingers a little deeper, massaging his scalp.

"Mmmm," he sighed again.

My smile grew as my fingers left no part of his hair untouched. His head titled back again and I didn't protest this time. Instead I started to caress the top of his forehead just below his tiny widow's peak as my fingers traveled back through his hair. His caramel skin felt smooth as silk underneath my fingertips. I wanted to feel more.

I dropped his brush down on the cushion next to me and slowly guided his head back to rest on my crossed legs. He leaned his head fully back with a small smile playing on his lips. I couldn't help but just stare at his relaxed face. He was truly gorgeous. Even upside down. Not a blemish, wrinkle, or freckle was on his face. Perfection. An endless pool of caramel skin.

My hands traveled from his hair to softly caress his cheek bones. His smile grew, however still keeping his teeth hidden.

I returned his smile knowing his closed eyes wouldn't catch it.

My thumbs left a soft trail from the stubble on his chin, up to where his skin creased with his grin, to his cheek bones, temples, and back again. I did that a few times, watching his long eyelashes flutter ever so slightly with each passing.

I softly traced his full eyebrows. Now it really wasn't fair how luscious those puppies were. I mean here I am with spaghetti for eyebrows and he gets these thick ones. Like any guy, they were unkempt, not plucked, waxed, or threaded, but god they were nice.

I shook my head at the unfairness of it all. He got the height, the muscles, the skin, the hair, and now the eyebrows. That, ladies and gentleman, is a crime I tell you.

Now here was the kicker.

My fingers trailed down from his eyebrows, down his cheeks, and back to his chin. But, instead of repeating that same trail, my thumbs slowly traveled up and softly brushed the smooth fullness of his lower lip. My blush deepened and I felt my thud pulse heavily in my throat.

My fingers shook slightly at my boldness. But how could I resist? Talk about unfairness. His lips were a true work of art. A few shades pinker and darker than his skin tone. He had a slight cupids bow. A perfectly proportioned pair.

His lips parted slightly at my caress, fanning my hand with his warm exhale.

I brushed the entirety of his mouth with both thumbs this time. Feeling the smooth pucker. No need for Chapstick here ladies. I subconsciously licked my lip feeling the slight dryness and the unevenness of a spot I nibbled at earlier.

I did it again just reveling at his beautiful mouth. Suddenly, I felt the soft tip of his tongue dart out and moisten my thumb.

I gasped softly and pulled my hands away.

His eyes opened as he smiled mischievously up at me. He was so hot, damn it.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Gross." I stated and wiped my damp thumb on his cheek.

"Hey!" He laughed and wiped his sleeve on the moistened skin. "That was a gift for you," He smirked up at me, keeping his head in my lap. "Think of it as a payment for the massage," He said and reached his arms behind him, arching his back to stretch his torso, pressing his head further into my lap. His arms almost fully wrapped around me as he stretched.

"Yeah, well, consider this the first and last massage." I retorted. "Your form of payment is completely repulsive," I said knowing damn well I wanted to stick that thumb in my mouth to taste him.

He barked a deep and throaty laugh as he settled back in front of me. "Oh yeah, sweetheart," He rolled his eyes "I'm sure that was the best thing that has ever happened to you," He smiled smugly up at me. You, sir, are correct.

I placed my hands on my hips. "Try the most disgusting," I said frowning.

He snorted at me. "Sure, Sure, whatever you say," He grinned and lifted his head off my lap. Darn it.

"So Short-stuff, you gonna braid my hair or what?" He asked casually, cracking his knuckles in front of him.

Oh yeah. I had completely forgotten to do what I was planning because, well, I got a little distracted. Jacob usually wears his hair down or in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He lived with a hair elastic on his wrist. However, after a lot of begging and a huge helping of my meatloaf, he finally agreed to let me braid his luscious locks.

I took a deep breath to collect my thoughts. This is something friends do right? Braid each other's hair? I always braided my friends' hair. Of course, most of my friends have been girls and we usually braided hair at sleepovers. When we were 8. I cringed. I've never braided a boy's hair before. Most boys I've ever had a friendship with never had long hair. And even if they did, I was never close enough to them to even consider touching their hair. And their hair probably wouldn't have been as nice as Jake's.

I smiled to myself and I went back to softly caressing his strands. His hair really was beautiful. Thick and black, shiny, and smells nice too. Like shampoo and Jacob.

Do not stick your nose in his hair.

Just a sniff?

NO.

One?

No, bitch!

I huffed in frustration with myself. I so badly wanted to slap my own face so I could get a grip.

"Ow." He grunted softly.

Oops. I winced and loosed my grip I had on a lock of his hair. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Get. A. Grip. And not on his hair!

I took another breath and fanned out my hands in front of me to loosen my stiff joints and dry the clamminess.

I grabbed his brush and quickly brushed through his hair one more time. Braiding is just a simple task. It'll take me just a couple of minutes and I'll be done.

I set the brush down and gathered all his hair into my hands, careful not to tug his strands again.

I carefully split his hair into three equal sections. I felt like a hair dresser. I smiled thinking of myself as someone named Gina who had a bad habit of chewing gum in your ear and attempting to talk to you over the hair dryer.

I shrugged and decided to fill the silence as any hair dresser would. Maybe this would keep me from yanking his head back and sticking my tongue in his mouth.

I cleared my throat. "So, how come you don't ever braid your hair yourself?" I asked as casually as I could.

He shrugged as I began the braid at the back of his head. I pulled his hair taut without tugging.

"It's not that I never braid my hair it's just you've never seen me do it." He said simply.

"Oh? And why not?" I asked.

He shrugged again. "I wore it in a braid a lot as a kid. I guess I just stopped."

"Why?" I asked actually intrigued. Being a hair dresser is kinda fun. You get the inside scoop on people. No wonder people call them therapists.

He shrugged again. "I dunno, my mom used to braid it for me. Every morning."

"Oh." I guess that makes sense. "And do you not know how to do it yourself?"

He snorted. "Bella, braiding is basically in my blood. Of course I know how. I usually put it in a braid when I sleep. I keeps the tangles away." He said. "Plus, it gets hot with my hair on my neck all night."

I grinned thinking of Jacob getting ready for bed and carefully braiding his hair. Cute.

"But, in the mornings it was hard 'cause it only reminded me that my mom wasn't here to do it for me. It was like our routine, you know?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "I see," I said not really knowing how to respond. I guess we couldn't all be a therapists with a knack for killer hairdos.

"Mhmm," he sounded as if he didn't want to continue to conversation.

I sighed softly and finished the last few inches of his hair before securing it with his trusty hair elastic.

"Alright, all done," I said as a smoothed a few loose strands by his ears back.

He shifted and turned to face me. "How's it look?" he asked as if he was expecting the worst.

I finally got to look at his face right side up. Wow. Even more gorgeous this way, if that was even possible. His jaw looked more defined after being pulled away from his face. This hairstyle somehow turned him from a teenager into a man. Wow.

"You look…" I breathed not able to admit my true thoughts.

"That bad?" He asked and dropped his eyes. He put his hand on the back of his hair, his cheeks turning pink.

"No, no" I said quickly and grabbed his forearm to lower it back down. "You look really…" I couldn't say gorgeous. But I wanted to. But I couldn't. "You look…"

He sighed and reached back again to grip the elastic. "I told you this was a stupid idea." He grumbled.

"No, no!" I shouted as he nearly freed his braid. I groaned exasperated from my own illiterate self. "Jacob, you look so incredibly handsome." I said quickly, the words almost jumbling together into one giant word.

He dropped his hand and stared at me with big eyes "What?"

"I – I – uh – you look really good." I said growing impossibly red. Now I was the one to drop my eyes. Stupid. Stupid. Incredibly handsome?! What was I? A grandma?

I rubbed my red face in my hands trying to disperse my blood.

"You like it?" He asked quietly.

I looked back up at him, his eyes soft and curious as he gazed as me waiting for an answer.

Jacob was many things but he was never shy or self-conscious. For being so young he always exuded confidence. He had one of the best personalities of anyone I ever met. Shy? That just wasn't him. Did he really think he looked bad? He could have a bowl cut and still be able to pull it off as the most fashionable hairdo around.

"I love it." I said. No point is trying to hide it now. Plus it broke my heart to see him be so unsure of himself.

He breathed a laugh and smiled down as his hands. "Thank you," he said in the same quiet voice as before.

I smiled back. Although it was uncharacteristic of him, he looked cute acting so bashful.

"You should wear it like that more often." I said trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed and looked back up at me. "As long as you do it for me," he returned my smile with one that could chase away the darkest of clouds. The smile he reserved just for me.

"Anytime," I shrugged with my smile growing wider at his invitation.

And anytime I wanted, he sat in front of me with that beautiful mane, and let me brush and braid it. God it was sexy. It was perfect. It was Jacob.

*Whew* Steamy, flirty, and tugs on your heartstrings? This chapter was a triple threat I'm telling you! Hopefully you enjoyed! I know I did lol.

Let me know what you think! If there is a situation you would like me to write, drop your suggestions!

Until next time my friends!