Thank you for your kind words, and for enjoying this story! Stay tuned, I'll try to crank out a new chapter by next weekend.

BPOV

I could feel his eyes on me. His breath warm on my nose.

I didn't want to wake up yet. Not just yet. I was having the sweetest dream, James Dean, cigarettes, the smell of leather and a lot of dirty, sexy groping. I was so warm and happy where I was. Five more minutes. James was about to ravish me. For the love of god let him.

I felt him snuggle closer.

I sighed, felt those eyes boring into mine, the remnants of the dream slowly ebbing away. Consciousness stirred me back to the present. I cracked a sleepy eye open, and a pair brown orbs stared back at me imploringly…I groaned. I hated it when he did that. It never failed. I couldn't keep the smile from creeping across my lips.

"Morning, Jake."

At mention of his name he pounced on my face, giving me a lavish tongue bath, practically vibrating with early-morning puppy love.

"Ok! I get it! I love you too, fluffybutt." I wrestled the excitement out of him for a few minutes, then put him down on the carpet. How he managed to get his stubby legs up onto my bed every morning I would never know. I yawned and stretched luxuriously, right down to my toes, and pulled the cover back over my head. Jake scuttled out of my room to find Charlie for his morning walk.

At the thought of Charlie I let out a muffled sigh. I still couldn't believe him, agreeing to move to California for me. Forks, Washington and its perpetual damp had very nearly killed me. Dad had been happy there; he had a great job, his friends, his fishing, his solitude. Happy...until I came and completely devastated his peace. Mom was on tour with her athlete boyfriend Phil, so I had taken it upon myself to get out of her hair...and out of her house in Phoenix. I couldn't bear her giving up what small solace she had found in Phil to watch over her surly teenage daughter. And now I was a burden on Charlie, even though he seemed happy as a clam that I was around. He had uprooted his whole life, so that I could feel like a normal teenager. I was never too subtle about how much I'd missed the sunshine.

We had taken a trip here for two weeks last year; and to my immense surprise he'd fit right into the LA lifestyle. He has a friend out here who was chief of police for the L.A.P.D., who had offered him a pretty sweet little job on the force, as Police Deputy Chief in Bel-Air and surrounding neighbourhoods. Although he had been chief of police back in Forks, this was Los Angeles - and his new title gave him several perks I couldn't help but enjoy. This cozy little two storey hacienda on La Cienega, for example. My own charge card, which I hardly ever used, much to Charlie's surprise. He had even offered to replace my beloved antique truck back home. He'd taken me to a used car lot in Montebello where he'd pointed to flashy car after car, thinking every 17 year old's dream car was something gaudy and girly. He actually suggested a pink car at some point. How little he knew me. I was a down to earth girl, and more than a little old fashioned. I had loved my antique back home; I wanted another one, with that same old timey feel...a big car I could let my five foot three frame feel big in. I wanted the smell of old leather and subtle remnants of owners past. After hours of scouring I'd finally found her sitting in a dark corner of the lot, under an orange tree. It was like something out of an Audrey Hepburn movie. A dusty blue '56 Pontiac Parisienne...I named her Holly Golightly, of course. She runs on gravity and a prayer but I adore her, the soft worn ivory leather of her, the gentle purr of her engine and how absurdly glamorous I feel driving her.

"Hey bells, I'm taking the animal for a walk!" Charlie bellowed from downstairs. He was referring to Jake, of course, and his disrespect for my dog did not go unnoticed.

"He has a name, dad!" I growled. Charlie muttered something about fleas and I heard the front door slam. Hmm...seven o'clock in the morning on a Sunday, what's a girl to do? One of the girls from school had invited me to some beach to go "man watching", and although I didn't like the girl much, it would mean a Sunday out of the house rather than at home with Charlie and his awkward manner.

However, the beach and the man candy could wait. For the time being I decided against leaving the warm sanctuary of my heavy duvet and snuggled deeper into my pillow, willing James Dean to finish what he'd started.