AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is – THE reason why I started to write this story in the first place. The scene at the bottom of the chapter is what came into my head and inspired me to write this. Please let me know what you think by READING and REVIEWING!
3. LEARNING
"Hey there, bed-head," he smiled, leaning against his doorjamb.
My hand instinctively went to smooth my hair back. "Hi…," I replied in a sleepy voice. "What time is it?"
"Around five-ish," he crossed his arms.
I gasped, waking up fully now. "Five?! Charlie will be back from fishing, and I haven't even made dinner!"
Jacob strode in and sat next to me comfortingly. "Calm down. I already called Charlie and explained that you wouldn't be home for dinner."
"I won't?"
"Nope. You had forgotten to mention to him this morning that Sam and Emily were having a barbeque that they had planned for weeks, and you had already told them you would be there. Before I had the chance to invite him, he interrupted saying that he already had plans for a pizza night and to watch the game with Harry and Billy." He uncharacteristically winked at me.
"A barbeque?" I asked, still dazed.
He shrugged. "Sure, sure."
"Wouldn't he talk to Billy about it, then?"
"Yeah, so? They are having a barbeque tonight…we could actually go if you want."
I shook my head slowly, "How did you get to be such a smooth liar?"
He grinned, but didn't answer me. "How did you sleep?"
"Really well," I looked down and turned pink a little. "Thanks."
"No problem," he nudged my shoulder.
"What did you do all this time? Sorry to be so boring."
"Nah, it wasn't bad. I ate, made sure you were alright, ate some more, tuned up my bike a bit, checked up on you, ate again…" he ticked off his fingers.
I giggled, "Hungry, much?"
He lifted his shoulders dramatically, "It's a curse."
My stomach actually gurgled at that moment.
"Look who's hungry now," he sneered.
I looked at him guiltily, "Got any food left for a simple human?"
He barked a laugh. "Yeah, I think I can pull something together." He stood, pulling me up with him, taking my hand to lead me to the kitchen. His warm hand felt nice around mine.
"I can make a mean scrambled eggs and toast," he declared as he examined the contents of the refrigerator and cupboard. I found myself giggling again, and it just made him even happier; he appeared to be beaming to himself. "Eggs and toast it is."
I sat at the small table and Jacob and I chatted while he made me my meal. As I moved, it was a relief that I was no longer stiff or terribly sore; by now, the only real pain was in my left hip where my motorcycle had fallen on top of me – it was probably bruised. My shoulders felt great from all the attention they received form Jacob.
"Here you go; two slices of toast and scrambled eggs. Dig in," he smiled, handing me my plate.
My stomach gurgled in anticipation. "Thanks again, Jacob. You've done so much for me." I blushed visibly; suddenly embarrassed by all the favors he had ever done for me. Holding off the pain I felt from what happened with him,helping me to deal with "real life" once again, fixing up the bikes in the first place, hiding it from both Charlie and Billy, letting me into his new secret of werewolf life and ritual, protecting me from deadly vampires, taking care of me when I had gotten hurt, and even preparing me food.
"I don't mind at all, Bella. Really, I enjoy helping you." He sat down at the table opposite me, patiently waiting for me, keeping me company while I ate.
"How did you learn to give such good massages?" I wondered aloud, in between bites of toast.
He shrugged, and tore off a small piece of my toast for himself. "No where, really. I used to give massages to my sisters when they were stressed about school or something or other. As I massaged their backs and necks, even when I was younger, I was just able to feel for myself what would feel good without even having to test it on myself."
It amazed me how he was able to use his large, work-worn, yet gentle hands to rub out difficult muscle knots and release soreness and tension delicately, without anyone ever teaching him how. I swallowed my chewed food with some difficulty. "Can you…teach me?"
He looked at me with half-lidded eyes, something in them that seemed faintly familiar. "Sure," he nodded.
I gave him a small smile, and returned to finishing my food. Something in that look he just gave me unsettled me slightly, but when I glanced up to his eyes to study it, the look was gone, replaced by his natural smile that reached his eyes.
"Uh, Bella. I think you're done."
I looked down to see that my fork was searching for food that was no longer on the plate. "Guess so," I agreed. "It was just so good that I was hoping I had a bit left."
"Want some more?" He made a motion towards the refrigerator.
"Thanks, but I'm actually quite full. Those eggs were really good." I stood to take my empty dish to the sink.
Jacob stood up and took the plate from me. "Thank you. I'll get your plate."
"No way. You have done enough for me today. Besides, do I need to mention Victoria? The least I could do is clean the dishes I ate off of." I took back the plate and walked to the sink, grabbing the pan he used to cook from the stove.
"I'll just do them later," he insisted.
I turned on the faucet, waiting for the hot water to run. "Just let me wash the dishes, Jake," I smiled.
He rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter next to me, making the kitchen crowded. "Okay, fine. Wash the dishes."
"You can help dry if you want."
"Sure," he took the now wet plate I offered.
We washed in comfortable silence.
I cleared my throat while we were drying our hands, "I suppose I should head home now."
Jacob quickly turned his head to me, "But Charlie think you won't be home for a couple more hours. He'll be occupied with the game, anyway."
I studied his face, and it looked anxious; he obviously didn't want me to go home yet. "Oh, right." I really didn't want to go home either. "What should we do?"
"Well," we both sat down on his couch as he paused and grinned sheepishly. "Do you want to start your lessons?"
"Oh," I blushed furiously. "Okay." I brushed my hair behind my ear nervously.
"Alright, so…" he faltered. "How about I sit on the floor, so that you can reach my shoulders?"
I laughed, relaxing a little. "Good idea." He slid down off the cushion to the floor in front of me, his shoulders still as high as my chest, resting his back in between my legs.
I became nervous once again. "What do I do?" I couldn't quite understand why I was getting nervous and jittery. It was only Jacob – the not-so-little Jacob Black, my best friend, who happened to be male, and have quite a crush on me.
"Well, first, place your hands on my shoulders," he told me lightly, sensing my slight discomfort. Hesitantly, I reached my hands out and laid them on the top of his still bare, warm shoulders.
But it didn't matter. Jacob and I were friends, and nothing more. He knew that, and he wouldn't try and push me. Even if there was a possibility of me sharing the same feelings of attraction towards him, I was not ready. There had been no one but him in my life romantically up until the evening I refused to think of, and until the day I died he would be the only one I could love.
"Good," he praised. "Now gently rotate your thumbs in circles, pressing slightly, and rub your fingers back and forth." He waited as I tried what he said. "A little more pressure." I pressed into his shoulder harder. "Bella, you don't have to be too gentle; the point of a massage is to use the pressure."
This surprised me. "I'm not, Jacob. Here, can you feel this?" I pressed my thumb into his back as hard as I could.
"A little. Only faintly," he laughed. "Oh well, don't worry about it. Usually you just use moderate pressure. There you go."
I continued squeezing my fingers and thumbs together and apart.
He kept on coaching me, complimenting me on every hand movement, and slowly I became more comfortable. "Great Bella. Now for the neck, place your thumbs together at the base of my neck, and your fingers around my collar bone."
I nodded, and followed his directions. He had me raise my index fingers to rest against the side of his neck, and move my thumbs alternatively, just as he had on me, up along his neck and then back down his spine. As I moved my hand back up his neck, I decided to drag my thumb up the center of it, into his hair, pressing on the back of his scalp; his head hung down on his chest as I did so, and I repeated the action.
Then some sudden boldness encouraged me to randomly experiment. I decided to use all my fingers, and I drew them through his hair, rotating them around his head. As my hand moved, he allowed his head to move with it in slow circles, groaning quietly.
The noise made my hand freeze, and Jacob chuckled, removing my hand from his hair. "That's good, Bella. You're doing well. We can stop. You can practice on Charlie, now."
"No," adrenaline was once again pumping through my veins. "I want to learn still." I did not want to stop. For some reason I could not think of, I wanted to hear Jacob make that sound again.
"…Okay then," his voice was suddenly lower, a little huskier.
Without any further prompting, I returned my hand deep into his shaggy hair, massaging his head, causing him to lower his chin to his chest again. With my left hand, I traced my thumb down the back of his neck, pressing down until my fingers wrapped gently around his neck and my hand rested on his shoulder. He groaned louder this time.
My mind reeling, I couldn't help but continue my motions. Part of me was experiencing the same trill of giddiness I felt when I thought I was winning the race earlier, the other scared to death. It was Jacob's skin that was beneath my fingers and his warm skin that made mine tingle at this moment, not his cold and marble hard skin. It was my best friend Jacob who was somehow causing these old and new feelings to stir inside me. Not him. He was gone forever.
Edward was not coming back.
But here was Jacob. He was right here in front of me, always seemed to have been. He was here, and he wanted me. He wanted the attention I was giving him.
In truth, I wanted him too. He was beautiful with his bright face, shiny black hair, russet skin, and formed muscles. Jacob was not in any way unable to find attractive.
But I feared for his voice. How was I to know, to guarantee that Edward's voice wouldn't come back ringing clear as crystal through my head?
Suddenly though, the race popped into my mind, along with the reason that I started to ride motorcycles in the first place, and I realized that today I hadn't heard his voice. Not once while experiencing my reckless and spontaneous desire to ride my motorcycle at the fastest speed did I heard Edward's voice.
With all the internal pieces I was busy putting together, I expected Jacob to pick up on it, but he seemed to be caught up in attention I had been giving him. His eyes were shut softly, his jaw set tight, and he seemed to be holding his breath as my left hand continued to move around his shoulders and back.
Stuffing back any thoughts of him, and focusing on what was happening now, I slowly moved my hand down Jacob's arm, leaned towards his back, and placed my lips where his neck met his shoulder.
AN: For some reason, this was the hardest chapter for me to write – in that it took the longest for me to write. Sorry! I know I said by the 4th review, but THANK YOU everyone because I was pleasantly surprised to find much more than 4 reviews for the second chapter. Next chapter isn't written yet, but should be shortly!