It was long after dark and the tabletop was no longer visible for all the glasses, napkins, and empty take out boxes. A forgotten movie still blared in the background, unintelligible over the sound over the conversation. Jacob has been recounting Quil and Embry's endless mischief since they joined the pack. Quil seemed to have a special talent for getting on Paul's nerves, though that wasn't a difficult task. Embry had been trying to win over girls with his new physique, with mixed and often amusing results.

"Did nobody tell him that you can't just shove your tongue down a girl's throat?" She wrinkled her nose. "Poor girl. I can only imagine…"

"Yeah, I don't think he's going to be punching that v-card anytime soon," he slurred.

Crap. He might have a higher metabolism than regular humans, but his tolerance was still on par with them. As long as he stayed alert and kept his cool, everything should be fine. No harm, no foul.

They were slumped over on the lumpy couch, and the bottle was more empty than they had intended. She was flushed and giggly, her legs draped over his lap under the blanket. He missed seeing her like this. It had been so long since she looked so carefree and silly, and it tugged at his heart. He wanted to make her feel that way everyday, no booze required.

Not that the inebriation wasn't welcome. For the first time in the weeks since they discovered Victoria's presence, he was completely relaxed and thinking of nothing else but this beautiful, adorable mess wiggling next to him. How was he supposed to resist any of it? The rest of the pack could piss off.

The room looked like it could be moving on its own, wobbling like he was wearing someone else's glasses. Maybe playing it cool was a bit unrealistic. Ballsiness sounded like a much more likely outcome. Hopefully he wouldn't embarrass himself again.

He was suddenly snatched back to reality by the feeling of Bella's icy feet pressing into his stomach.

"Jesus Christ, Bella," he yelped, recoiling. "You're like a corpse. If you're that cold then go turn up the heat. Or just put on some socks."

She giggled, groping for some part of his body to warm her hands on as well. He playfully smacked her hand away. How painfully ironic it was that he was preventing her from touching him.

"I don't need the heater. That's what I have you for," she said, reaching over again to press her hands against his ribcage.

"That's it, huh?" He laughed in a flaccid attempt to conceal his disappointment. He pushed her hands back and pulled the blanket back to protect himself.

"Nooo I didn't mean it like that," she slurred. "You're cute and you keep me from getting eaten."

"Oh really?"

He thought she was just tipsy before, but it felt like she was flirting with him again. He could never be sure, and he hated it as much as he enjoyed the butterflies it gave him. Her choice of words wasn't helping either; a scene from his favorite dream briefly flashed before his eyes.

"Yeah. Six months and I haven't been eaten once. That's a much better track record," she said, lazily taking another sip of her drink.

"No, the other thing."

"What thing?" she asked.

"You called me cute."

His eyes met hers, challenging her to come up with a good explanation. He'd caught her staring once or twice, but it was so much better hearing it from the horse's mouth, even if it wasn't under ideal circumstances.

"That's not what I meant," she stammered. "I meant like…..you're…," Her already flushed face was turning redder.

"I'm what?"

"...I don't know…..aesthetically pleasing," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

He raised his eyebrows, his curious expression turning into a shameless smirk. Was the best bullshit she could conjure? He held her gaze in the silence that followed. Her eyes narrowed.

"...Shut up," she barked, hitting him with a throw pillow.

He dodged, grinning and clearly pleased with himself. Maybe it wasn't the adjective he was looking for, but he'd take it. Bella was always a tiny bit hostile when she was embarrassed, but it gave him a tiny peek into what she was thinking. It seemed like she had been keeping her cards closer to her chest than usual, and it made sober Bella harder to read. What happened to that open book?

"Well, I'm going to turn up the heat if you won't," he said, still snickering at her..

He rose from the couch, only to find that this legs were far less reliable than he remembered.

"Shit," he said, gripping the arm of the couch to stop his wobbling. Well, looks like he could kiss "alert and cool" goodbye in one fell swoop.

"Miss Swan, I hope you realize that you have officially corrupted a minor. What do you have to say for yourself?" He carefully made his way towards the thermostat, nearly bumping into the coffee table in the process.

"It was my pleasure, " she chortled. "I'm happy to corrupt your innocence anytime."

He let out a loud, monosyllabic laugh from the hallway. He'd be more than happy to be...corrupted. The evening was going far better than he'd expected, though he was aware that he had been neglecting his duties, the official reason why he was there. The doors and windows were locked, the lights were on, and the pack was on patrol. If he was by her side the whole time, he could kill two birds with one stone.

"Jaaake," she whined. "I'm still cold."

"I'm working on it," he called back.

"That ancient piece of crap is going to take forever to get going," she said, wrapping the blanket around her like a cloak as she tried to navigate the path from the couch to the stairs.

"My room is warmer. I'm going to go get in the bed so come up when you're done."

Her pronouncement made his heart skip a beat. He fumbled with the temperature gauge as she crossed the landing and into her room. The fuzziness in his vision seemed to switch back to focus. They'd have to sleep at some point, but he hadn't thought that part through. He was simply happy that things had returned to normal. He'd probably hit the couch once she passed out.

When he made it to her room, he found her rolled up in the duvet, her teeth chattering. The window was open, and a small mound of snow had settled on the floor, slowly melting into a puddle. He darted over to the window and slammed it shut, locking it before turning back to her. They must have left it open after they went downstairs. No wonder the house was like an arctic tundra. He needed to be much more careful.

"Jaaake why is it still so cold?"

"Because you left the window open, dumbass."

She stuck out her tongue. "Technically, you left it open. You were the last one to go downstairs, so now you have to fix it."

"I already turned the heater on. It should be warmer in a half hour or so."

"Nope, that doesn't get you out of paying the penalty. Come here, space heater," she said, patting the empty space next to her on the bed.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it. However, the alcohol and the exhaustion of recent weeks won out, and he couldn't pretend that he didn't like the idea. Somewhat reluctantly, he laid down next to her on the bed, trying not to look too happy to be there. She yawned, rolling over to face him and pushing some of the blankets onto him before resting her hand on his shoulder. She was only barely awake as she stared into his eyes.

"Hey Jake?" she whispered.

"Y-yeah?"

"I'm glad you came over."

"Me too."