A/N: Wow. Less than twenty-four hours have passed since my last update. Aren't you lucky? :) (It might have something to do with the fact that I already had most of chapter four finished.)

In this one, I give you a break from Jake/Bella angst for a little bit of Bella/Embry angst. And then some more J/B angst after that. ;D

(I know this story isn't exactly living up to an M rating thus far, but I promise I'll get to that soon.)

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Chapter Four.

You arrive back at the Black's house in a matter of minutes, and Jacob whispers only a few words to you (as he sets you back down on your feet) that make an uncontrollable shudder pass through your spine;

"Don't fall in love with him. For me." You don't have to ask or even wonder what or who he's talking about. And saying nothing more, he heads back up the steps, through the front door (still shirtless, you note with a mildly smug feeling), leaving you alone on his front lawn. You decide that maybe you'd make a better impression if you wiped your eyes dry and followed him.

What he had said continues to haunt you as you ever so slowly make your way up to the house, making yourself semi-presentable along the way. (But you wouldn't dare look in a mirror just yet—you couldn't bear to.) The danger in Jacob's voice had made an absolute perfect threat. You realize with a jolt that he was threatening you, and you almost can't believe it. Your mind wanders as you think exactly what he could have been thinking. What would he do if you did fall in love with him… with Embry? (Not like you would, though, of course not…)

Before you're even through the door, you hear Natalie exclaim in her all of a sudden somewhat nasally voice: "What in the fuck…? Why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?!" You then hear a muffled and embarrassed "Sorry," from Jake, but he doesn't answer her. You guess he probably headed off to get a different one.

The amusement you suddenly feel at that exclamation gives you the strength to enter the house.

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Maybe you imagined that evening. You'd bet you imagined everything that evening—it was unbelievably surreal in a… bizarre way.

But you didn't imagine anything, of course. And you're not quite sure if that should be a good or bad thing.

Dinner surprisingly goes by… flawless (or, as flawless as it could ever get). That is, if you count nothing but the dinner. And yours and Embry's relationship façade continues, and it breaks your heart when you see Jacob looking at Natalie—not you. You think to yourself, Well, it was never meant to be me, not really.

And Natalie is a wonderful person and she's all dressed up when you see her again, like she's going to a party, and it makes her more beautiful that you could just cry. She acts as though you've been best friends your entire life and she squeals and jumps up to run and hug you when she sees you. You kind of cough into her shoulder, and try and say something semi-polite when she gushes, "You're doing well! Oh, thank God you're doing well, Bella. I thought maybe you were upset when you didn't come in the house with Jacob." She laughs; a loud, paranoid laugh.

"Of course I'm doing well," you murmur back politely, but you can tell no one believes you. Not even yourself.

And overall, the double date runs much too smoothly and the only time you and Jake touch throughout the entire thing is when his skin brushes over yours, ever so softly, when he reaches for the gravy and you reach at the gravy and you happen to want gravy at the same time. His skin was hot. That shouldn't have been surprising, though.

Natalie can't get over how much Jacob eats, and you learn a thing or two over dinner that evening: number one, she doesn't know anything about the pack. She doesn't know why Jacob eats so much. She doesn't know that Jake's a damn werewolf, for Christ's sake, and she definitely doesn't know she and Jacob have some strange, destined by fate connection. (She thinks she just happened to get lucky one day, and she was now hooked up with a totally hot and big Native American boy who, by the way, would do absolutely anything for her. Yeah, right.)

You smirk while she's busy giggling and wiping food off Jake's face (it's not like you can look over there, anyhow), and feel something that probably was smugness swelling deep within your chest and you don't know why, exactly. But it all feels wrong, smiling when you know you shouldn't be.

You learn a second thing over dinner that evening.

But before you learn about that, you remember seeing the faces of two people—Jared from the pack, and Kim, his imprint. You remember the way they stared at each other, and you remember Jared's eyes appraising every tiny movement Kim's body made (and somehow not in a perverted way), and you remember how their eyes could not stay far from each other and there was hardly a moment when they didn't lock or spark for a never-ending moment. You remember their eyes reflecting back to one another the feeling of true love, and you remember feeling confusion when you first saw that look. How could you fall in love with someone so quickly and so absolutely, no questions asked? But you learned to accept it over time, of course, because back then you had basically lived with an entire wolf pack—three of which had already imprinted—and you got used to the feeling of true love around you.

But you observe how Jacob and Natalie look at each other… and somehow, it's nothing at all alike.

Jake feigns smiles and he laughs and their eyes always meet when they talk. And he smiles when they talk, and his smile is the same—but his smile his awful. Somehow you are the only one who can actually tell when Jake's happy, and he was not happy.

He smiles, but his eyes are tight… strained. He laughs, but it is always forced, coughed.

Something was wrong with Jacob's imprint, and you need to talk to Jacob right now, because you didn't have time before. You'd only had time to touch him. And that was it.

Happy conversation continues to throw itself across the table at all times, and Embry wholeheartedly calls Jacob a pig for talking with food in his mouth (although he hadn't been saying much). Natalie—or Nat, as you are starting to catch on reluctantly—laughs in delight when Embry mentions this, and she squeals affectionately with a large grin, "Oh, but you're my pig! Isn't that right, Jake?" And then she crashes his lips to his, laughing into his mouth (still full of food—ew, disgusting—yet at the same time there is a yearning that you could have been the one to kiss him with his mouth full of food). It's more than five seconds later when they stop, even if you didn't notice Jake kissing her back much anyways, and she giggles hysterically in a manner that suggests she may be drunk. It seems like you can't physically force your eyes to look away.

You feel Embry's body stiffen like he knows what your reaction would be to this. You feel like he knows you too well. In an attempt to make you stay, he lightly grabs your wrist, but his grip is so weak (like he intended it to be) so you don't have to make a scene of yanking your arm back.

You immaturely and selfishly excuse yourself from the table—before dinner was meant to be finished—and don't come back that evening.

You feel three pairs of eyes burning holes in your back, one pair more familiar and scorching than the others, and you don't need to turn around or even wonder who it is to automatically know.

But Embry's the one that follows you outside into the damp air of the early night, and you're not sure what to think about that. A small part of you wishes it were Jake to follow you out into the damp night, but of course you couldn't have expected that to happen.

"Hey." His voice rumbles behind you, and you shiver, knowing it has absolutely nothing to do with the cold. You shiver harder when you feel a jacket placed lightly on your shoulders, and the hands that set that jacket there rest on your shoulders for a while. You feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, and you just stand there in the middle of the almost-dry mud, staring out into the forest. Waiting for something. Anything.

"You cold?"

"No," you admit, but that's not what's bothering you, anyway. "You are incredibly warm, Embry. I think I'd be freaked out if I was even a little bit cold right now."

He chuckles, and his arms suddenly find their way around your waist, his breathing warm and hard in the back of your neck. "That's true."

A few minutes pass and his arms are like strongholds around you as the shuddering continues. You let your back lean against his chest, and you're very comfortable. But you're uncomfortable at the same time. It's all so strange. You suddenly get a strong feeling you can talk to him right now.

"Why is Jake acting like that?" you finally whisper, still facing away from him, facing towards the forest.

You feel the unexpected question send a light, surprised jolt through Embry's body. "Like what? I didn't notice anything."

"Like… like that," you say. "Like how he was. They weren't like any other imprinted pair I'd seen before." You refuse to say the word couple, even though you know that's exactly what Jake and Natalie are.

Silence fills the air, and Embry doesn't answer you for a long time.

"Jacob loves you a lot, Bella," he finally murmurs after several minutes. Not like you're counting or anything. You wonder why Jacob hasn't come outside to check on the two of you yet. You feel he trusts Embry too much. Well, not like you don't trust Embry, and Embry is Jacob's best friend, but still…

"I know he does."

"You love him, too. A lot." It's not a question.

"Yes," you reply almost immediately. "Is it that obvious?"

Embry catches your weak attempt at sarcasm, and chuckles into your shoulder. The sound is muffled. "Just a bit."

"I don't know why you're doing this, Embry," you say very suddenly and very off-subject, and your voice is harder than you meant for it to be.

His body reacts again at the unexpected comment. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you do!" you yell suddenly, whipping quickly out of his arms to look at him, face to face, because you can't stand it anymore and you can't let this go on much longer. You don't know if he's trying to make it harder for you both in the end or if he's just playing with you, but you don't like it, no matter if you really do love Embry or not (but you do). It's never been the same. And it's all so confusing and overwhelming.

"Bella," he says, softly, and you don't know why, but you start to cry, and you curl up into his arms again, but this time you're facing him. And this time, you wrap your arms around his neck and you wrap them tightly, and you're crying into the fabric of his t-shirt. He doesn't hesitate in hugging you and hugging you hard, and he doesn't hesitate when he places several kisses on the top of your head.

"Ugh," he moans at last. "I'm such an awful person."

"You're not, Embry," you cry. "I'm sorry I yelled. I don't know why I did that. You're one of the best people I know."

"You only think that because you don't know the story," he says miserably, and his tone catches your attention just like that.

"Story," you repeat. Your voice is monotone, it's dead. Numb. "I hadn't realized that there was a… a story, Embry," you whisper, and your voice is now deadly. You try and look at his face, but it's too dark and your weak eyes can't detect as much as they should.

"Jake asked me to do all this, you know." You slowly nod into his chest. "I mean, I guess I had a feeling you knew that Jake sent me that first time I talked to you, that one morning in your truck. I dunno, you and Jake are pretty… tight like that."

"Yeah," you agree. "We are. Or were, at least."

"So I guess I knew that you knew him well enough to know what he would do," he says, the words flowing out of him in a rush and you can't help but laugh out loud at the complex sentence.

"I do know him pretty well," you say again, quieter. "I knew he sent you because somehow, I didn't quite get the feeling you'd come all on your own." The words you say sting him, you can see that, but you don't wonder why you don't take them back. "But anyway, the only thing I'm wondering is why he sent you. That part I can't quite seem to figure out."

"He knew you were in pain, Bella," Embry whispers, and you'd never heard him talk to you that way before. "And he knew you needed someone just to talk to or at least know what he could do to help you, and I am his most trusted friend and all…" He sighs hugely. "Besides you, of course. But anyway, he sent me because he couldn't stand to send himself. Told me he couldn't stand to see your face so soon or something like that."

The words make a fresh tear in your heart and tears sting your eyes (again), but blink tightly a few times so Embry can't see. You won't let him see, and you're glad he doesn't. You didn't expect him to.

"Alright," you say at last, your words coming out slowly. "But this thing with me and Jake is never, ever going to blow over if we can't just talk to each other. Embry, you don't—" You choke on emotion. "—you just don't even know what it's like when someone you love… so much… is simply ripped out of your life because of something completely out of his control. There are no words for that feeling." And your tears continue to spoil his dark t-shirt.

"Bella," he whispers after he lets you cry for a few minutes. "I'm guessing you never thought that that's exactly what he was afraid of."

"Excuse me?"

"He knows how much your bloodsu—I mean, your Edward used to love you. All this time, Jake was thinking that he'd come back. Don't know that?" And then your heart freezes in your chest for two reasons: number one, you didn't know that; number two, it didn't help anything to bring up Edward's name in a conversation about Jake. "And all this time, he was thinking that Edward would come back and he'd have to fight for you, just to be able to keep you and love you," Embry continues.

"And how do you know all this?" you whisper.

Embry sighs hugely, like you're a slow child. "Wolf pack shares one mind, remember?"

"…Oh. Right." You wonder why none of this talk of Edward is hurting you as bad as it used to. You only receive a small prick in your chest whenever his name is mentioned or thought. You suppose that this is a good thing, compared to how it was a few months ago. "So… I guess Jacob has thought this all in his wolf form, then, huh? Otherwise you wouldn't know."

"Yeah. More than just a few times, actually."

Moments pass as you try and find the right words to say. "Embry…" you sigh. "…I think that it's safe to say that I know Edward is not coming back." Your breath hitches and you really do have trouble breathing for a few seconds as you realize how true this statement most inevitably is. "So you can just go and tell Jake that. Tell him whatever, honestly! Whatever makes him happy!" You slap the heels of your hands to your eyes in an attempt to wipe away your pathetic tears. It doesn't work well. "You might as well tell him anything now, since I can't do any more. I can't do anything more to make him know I love him with every single cell in my body—there's nothing more I can do! A-And… and it's just killing me, Embry, because… just 'cause there's nothing more I can… do." Your voice literally shakes with every word, and there's no stopping the explosion of tears that fall out of your eyes now.

Oh, God, crying seems to be the only thing you do nowadays.

This whole time, Embry is petting the back of your head and holding you ever-closer to his chest. It reminds you of the way Jacob used to hold you, before everything was so complicated and before there were all these monsters and magic… and it's painful.

"Embry…," you whisper, and he probably thinks your voice has that tone of longing (and it probably does), but it's not longing for him. It's longing for Jacob. And in that whisper of Embry's name, you know what you had meant to say was Embry, you really are one of the most wonderful people I know, and I appreciate and love you a lot, but... you don't understand I'm going to have to break you if you don't let go.

But somehow your voice can't find itself, and it definitely can't find those words and it definitely can't say them.

"By the way, Bella," he says, and his voice gets impossibly huskier. And that doesn't help the tears that streak down your face. "You are definitely not a shitty excuse for a person."

"Excuse me?" You can't help but kind of hysterically laugh, because all memories of that first meeting with Embry have already slipped through your mind. At least right now.

He chuckles, more softly than you did, and replies, "A week ago, in your truck, you were… ranting, and said you were a shitty excuse for a person who should love everyone in your life…" You nod, albeit numbly, more agreeing with what he says rather than recognizing, and he continues, "Well, I just want you to know that is not true. You have to love so many people all at the same time—and maybe in different ranges of love—so it's probably hard for you sometimes. But you're anything but shitty, alright? You love everyone, and you do an awfully good job at it, too."

"Awful...," you repeat softly, thoughtfully tracing the dark line of his t-shirt's collar with your finger.

But he just laughs. "You know I didn't mean it like—" But he doesn't finish his sentence, he abruptly cuts his words off, like he's not even physically able to continue, and his breathing hitches and his arms stiffen around you and you know something's wrong.

"Embry, what in the hell—"

But he interrupts you, speaking in a rush. "Bella, I think you should know that I really like you or love you or something like that, and maybe I won't see you so often, so I'm just going to ask you right now if I can kiss you real quick." You'd laugh at the ignorance in his voice if not for the circumstances. There's a slight pause and things are happening so much faster than you can catch up. "So, can I kiss you real quick?"

And somehow you know that when he says real quick, he really means it, and so you surprise the both of you by saying almost just as quickly, "Yes."

But you don't mean to, and you know it wasn't anything close to what you probably should have said (and you'll probably regret it later—most definitely, actually), but you can't take it back now because his warm lips are suddenly on yours and the world seems to stop for about two seconds.

And just as quickly as it all happened, it's over, and you don't know what 'it' is exactly. You can't feel him anymore, save for his leather jacket that was laid on your shoulders in what now seems like a century ago, and your eyes are opening (you hadn't remembered closing them) and you're watching silently as Embry backs up away from you, slowly. But the coldness hits you automatically, and you shiver and you hardly register Embry telling you to pull your arms through the sleeves of the jacket, and that you can give it back to him whenever. He doesn't really care.

"Bella? Embry?" A familiar and cautious voice cuts through the silence of the night from the porch light and from the front door not more than maybe ten yards away, as well as cuts through yours and Embry's (maybe silent—you don't remember) conversation. You know that voice, but it shocks you anyway, and Embry's quick reaction a few seconds ago suddenly makes sense and suddenly you decide that maybe in Embry's arms right now is not the best place to be, not the best impression to make. So you are grateful that that is not where you are. (And yet, somehow you have the feeling that Jake already knows.)

You're surprised enough that you flinch backwards, and Embry (surprisingly) leaves you be. Jacob wouldn't have let you fall; he would have caught you before you had chance to stumble an inch, but you try not to think about that. Of course you trip over your own feet, onto your bottom and into the mud, and you're flustered and bewildered and your face burns red.

"Oops," is the last word you hear Embry say that night in a somewhat embarrassed tone, and he excuses himself without a word (and without helping you up) and he very nearly sprints back to the Black's house, shutting the door not-so-softly behind him. Jacob doesn't even seem to notice Embry pushing past him through the door. He's just staring at you, and his expression is one mixed between confusion and anger and disbelief.

Oh yeah, he definitely knows.

Well, shit.

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A/N: I'm afraid to say updates might be a bit less frequent from here on out, but I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Reviews are always nice. But I hate cliff hangers as much as my readers. :(