A/N: A few additions to this chapter meant that HoochieMomma beta'd it last minute. My love for her is as vast as the ocean and as inappropriate as the Queen in a triangle bikini. Go read her incredible fic!

Chapter 7 - Jake's POV

I took dad home from Bella's in a daze, almost massacring a family of squirrels as I drove the truck around the familiar twists and turns on autopilot. My head was echoing with her miserable analysis of our relationship...

You've been with... a lot of girls, then? You have notches on your bedpost? I'm just worried! About... your health. Just... another big sister. Just... another big sister. Just... another big sister...

I went straight to my room when we got in, determined to spend the rest of the night drowning in my own sorry thoughts. Possibly with the accompaniment of Johnny Cash and a garbage bag full of Reese's Pieces. I wheeled my dad in front of the TV, got him a beer, and then shut my door and flopped down on my bed.

That was when the truth of the situation really hit home. Isabella Swan had been my fantasy, my goal, my version of perfect for so long that even contemplating an existence without her as my lover was... empty.

I mean, here I was; not the skinny, idiot kid she'd known but a grown man... and she still didn't want me. I felt my nose tingle and smart as I fought back tears and buried my face in the crook of my arm. My t-shirt smelled of Bella. Fuck. I breathed her in, turning my arm this way and that to capture as much of her scent as I could. The sweet cinnamon fogged my head. I closed my eyes and decided that, in my utterly pathetic current state, a little more masochism couldn't hurt.

I imagined her here with me, curled up into my side. Her long, dark hair would lie over the pillows as her naked legs twisted with mine. I'd pull the covers up over her tightly, keeping her warm and pressed against me, and I'd kiss her, tasting toothpaste on her tongue as we drifted off to sleep together...

Fuck. I stomped out of my room to the kitchen, grabbed a family bag of candy I'd hidden out of reach of anyone under six feet and pressed play on "All Aboard The Blue Train".

For a few blissful seconds when I woke the next morning I forgot what had happened the day before. All I thought was "Jesus bear, my mouth tastes like I licked a squirrel's ass". Then it crept back in and there was nothing else I could think about. Well, that and my impending date with the dentist's drill once I took in the sea of candy wrappers strewn around my pillow. I forced myself up, stripped off and got into the shower before I succumbed to a day of wallowing in bed. As the scalding water hit my skin I scrubbed at my face and tried to work out where the hell to go from here. Bella didn't want me, that much she'd made almost transparent. Almost... fuck. Almost.

Who was I kidding? I wasn't ready to give up on her until I heard it from her lovely, pink mouth. She needed to understand how far back this went, how many years I'd spent dreaming about her, thinking about her, obsessing over her. How many times I'd pissed off Quembry by dismissing girls who tried it on with me because they weren't anything like her.

Sure, I'd ended up with other girls - after years of moping by fifteen my teenage cock was about to file for divorce from my ass, so I gave in. In the back of my mind, though, I wasn't ever really invested in them. And anyway, with the Rez girls I never really knew if it was just about Ephraim Black and the goddamn council. And with the white girls I couldn't tell if it was just about fucking around with a Native man who resembled Tarzan's big brother for some kind of thrill.

None of them ever even came close to my quiet, funny, skinny, dark-haired girl with wide eyes, who was just... my friend... before anything else.

Fuck it. I was done. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist, yelling "morning" to my dad and dripping all over the lino as I rounded the corner to my room. I was in front of my wardrobe in moments, and reached up to the plastic storage box on top. I tugged it down, ignoring the dust which billowed around me and digging through it for what I knew was there.

Buried under school jerseys, baseball game programs, photographs and misshapen trinkets from when I was learning to carve was the final letter I ever wrote to Isabella Swan. I'd written it as a last-ditch attempt to keep in touch, but when I'd gone to the store to buy a stamp the clerk had told me he hadn't got any left.

I'd taken the letter home, telling myself I'd try again tomorrow, maybe hitch a lift into Forks with one of the older guys. It was only when Quil and Embry sat me down that I finally decided not to send it. I could still remember their words.

"How many of these have you sent?"
"I don't know, maybe five..."
"Bull. It's twenty at least."
"How many has she replied to?"
"Well..."
"Jake, it's embarrassing, man."
"But..."
"No. You have to stop this. There are women drooling over you all over the fucking county and you just walk around oblivious. This girl is a bitch."
"Hey!"
"Ok, sorry, that was harsh. But she hasn't even written you back to tell you she's not interested. That's just mean."
"Maybe..."
"Maybe what, Jake? Maybe she's not getting your letters? Then why write? If she's not sent you anything in a year, she's not going to."
I shook my head, trying to throw off the memories. At least the truth turned out to be the kinder option. I grabbed a pad and pen and started writing.

Bella, I don't know how to say this...

That sounded like I was going to come out.

Isabella, I fucking love you and have for about a decade, so please drive over at your first convenience because I need to propose, then get you naked so we can reenact my pubescent fantasies at length.

Yeah. No. Think, Jacob. Last night reappeared in my mind and I tore off that sheet for a fresh one.

B, there's something you need to know. I don't feel like a little brother about you. I never have and I never will.

I should have been scared as I bought the goddamned stamp at the shop but it seemed more like history was finally righting itself. As if all these years without her I'd been turning off-groove. Now, regardless, I'd played my final card. The ball was in her court. And plenty of other metaphors of imminent demise. Shitballs.

When I sloped up the path home, Quil and Embry were hanging out on the porch, picking at our peeling paint and kicking an empty can back and forth.

"Jakey!" Quil caught sight of me first and held out his arms. "Come give your brother a hug!" I grabbed him and twirled him around, laughing at his horrified expression.
"Hey! I thought I was your sweetheart!" Embry pouted.
I put down Quil and took a deep breath. "I'll let you both know my final choice tomorrow, and not before, so don't panic buy the shop out of lube yet."

Quil held up his hand and Embry raised an eyebrow. "Duuuuude..." he began in a questioning tone, "what's tomorrow?"
I couldn't stop the stupid, frantic grinning. I felt like swatting at my own head. It was too late, anyway.
"I know that face," Quil said, doing his best McNulty. "You look like you've dropped ten IQ points and you're drooling a little onto your shirt. Bella's back, isn't she?"
"Fuck you both."
Embry whooped and high fived Quil, who looked extremely smug. Bastard.

"So, come on. When did it go down? What happened?"

There was a shuffling noise from inside the house, and all eyes turned back.
"You know Charlie got shot? Well, Bella came back to look after him."
My supposed friends wrenched open the screen door and crowded around my dad.
"He's been wandering around in a goddamn daze ever since. He either looks like he's on horse tranquilizers or like someone's just stabbed him in the nuts."

Embry was bouncing up and down trying to prise more information from pop, but Quil was frowning. I could tell he was building up to a serious business conversation about my overly monogamous junk. Wow. Today was just getting better and better.
"Come on Em, Jake - let's go down to the beach. That ok, sir?"
Yep, there it was. Billy patted him on the arm. Traitor. "Go ahead boys. See you later, Jake." He winked at me, knowing full well I was destined for several hours of interrogation. Maybe even some cavity searches.

I sulked all the way, to show my maturity, but to be fair to them at least the boys managed to make small talk on the short walk till we got out of my dad's earshot. By the time we reached the old white tree, however, Embry was practically foaming at the mouth. The questions started once we'd all sat down on the twisted, pale branches. They were clanking like bones in the breeze, which seemed fitting for my own personal judgement day.

"So, what's she like now?" Embry began, with an altogether too leery look on his face. Dirty fucker.
"Sexier, more confident, less... uncoordinated..." I sighed, truthfully, "but she's still Bella, you know? Sweet as hell, sarcastic, nose mostly in a book, feeding everyone, going pink at the slightest provocation..."
"Shit, man." Quil interjected. "I could always tell you'd never gotten over her. All those girls who prostrated themselves under your dick, and you just stepped over them like they were flattened raccoons on the highway."
I looked down at my shoes, coated with fine, gray sand.

"Hey! I've had three actual proper girlfriends!"
Quil snorted.
"Let's examine the evidence, shall we? There was Michelle - remember her? She bit her lip a lot, wore chuck taylors and had a tattoo which read "Mrs Darcy" on her ass."
I swallowed. This was not going to be pretty.

"Then there was Isobel - Quil, remember her?"
Quil's stupid face broke into a grin.
"Remember how he used to introduce her to everyone? 'This is Bella.' and she'd be like 'Jacob, I'm Izzy, you weird-ass fucker'."
He did an impression of the Hulk while impersonating me.
"Okay, so I tried to give her a new nickname!"
Quil hit me over the head.

"Then - Christ - the worst was Sara. Long hair, palest Quileute I have ever fucking seen, who spent all her time murmuring and wouldn't go anywhere without you."
I cringed. I fucking hated that they were right. I hung my head and Quil finally relented.
"I just don't want you to get hurt, man." He put a hand on my shoulder. "I wish for once you could break free of her..." he trailed off, shaking his head.
I decided to come clean. "We did have a conversation last night that scared the hell out of me."

Quil frowned and Embry's jaw set hard. "If she hurts you..." he muttered through his teeth.

"It's too late, guys." I pushed my hands into my hair and choked on a rueful laugh. "This is Bella. Any time she doesn't return my fucking smile gets me worried. I want her so much it's ridiculous. I'm a lost fucking cause..."

They were silent as I rubbed my tired eyes.

"I don't know where we stand at the moment. We've hung out a lot the past few days, and I think I've felt... something more... between us. More than just falling back into our old friendship. But then last night she... well, there was an indication that she..."
It still hurt to say.
"...feels like a big sister to me."
Embry whistled low and Quil squeezed my shoulder.
"Tell me about it. I couldn't fucking handle it. So I wrote her, and-"
"Whoa!" Embry interrupted. "Retro. What did you write?"
"I told her the truth - how I really feel. I fucking hate all this does-she-doesn't-she crap that's been going on the past week."

I swallowed.

"I'm in love with her. I never stopped being that way. When she reads it she'll know and she can choose to be with me, or..."
I stared down at the sand. There wasn't anything after the "or" yet. I hadn't even begun to be able to really think about that.
Quil and Embry jumped me from left and right and I was wrapped up in a huge hug.

"Fuck that shit." Quil mumbled against my shoulder. "If she doesn't want you, it's not the end."

"Yep," Embry agreed, jumping off the tree to demonstrate. "You just call us and we'll be there faster than the Flash, drunk on the Fourth of July with a firework in his ass for a bet."

"We promise," Quil finished while rolling his eyes, "don't we Embry?" Emphatic nodding. "That whatever happens, we will provide liquor and dick jokes till you either pass out or start smiling again should the worst happen."

I frowned. I knew they'd be there for me - of course they would, it was just the uncertainty in their voices which got me. They were practically preparing for it. I could see them mentally clearing their diaries and asking Sam Uley to get them a bottle of Jack, a keg and a funnel. Shit.

I spent the rest of the day desperate to distract myself. I washed the windows, cleaned the bathroom, swept the floors, put fresh sheets on my dad's bed and my own, tidied the place up and got through a mountain of laundry while wondering if it was ironic or just expected that a man in a wheelchair could produce such accomplished skid marks. When my dad caught me dusting the TV, he forced me to sit down.

"What were you just doing?" he asked, a perturbed look on his face.
"Um... dusting."

"It is a gateway drug." I answered, sarcastically.
His eyes narrowed. "If you don't watch some baseball with me right now, I might have to put my foot down. Dusting." He shook his head. "I won't stand for this sort of behavior."
By the time I was tired enough to go to bed, I'd run through about three hundred different scenarios and watched 2.75 baseball games. My poor brain got sort of mixed up halfway through the third innings of the Mariners vs the Brewers - potentially as a result of the chemicals in Bathroom Power - and I started imagining Bella wearing a stripey jumpsuit and hitting my genitalia with a bat.

But what I did recognize, in the midst of my stupor, was that this was my last night without knowing. Tomorrow night, I'd either be the happiest, most irritating man in the Pacific Northwest, or I'd be driving towards the Canadian border listening to Meatloaf.

I guess all the man-hugs and domestic servitude must have tired me out more than I thought, because I woke up late the following morning, coming straight out of a dream in which Bella posted my letter back with "RETURN TO DORKY, PENCIL-DICKED SENDER" scrawled across it in red lipstick. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Bella didn't even wear lipstick. She'd have to go to the shop just to buy it to write with. And anyway, she wasn't mean like that.

I may have been overthinking things.

Luckily, at that point my dad yelled a string of obscenities from the kitchen, and I leaped out of bed to his aid. He'd managed to spill sausage fat on his crotch from the skillet, so helping clean that up was a distracting bonding experience, if nothing else. Once we sat down to coffee and sausage sandwiches - mine drowned in ketchup, his in butter - he decided we should have a talk about "the girl." Thankfully, talks with my dad were invariably short and to the point.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"No, dad! I don't even know if she likes me."

"Use protection if you do. I don't want Charlie shooting your dick off."

"Agreed."

"If she comes round, I don't want shenanigans while I'm in the house."

"Christ. Okay."

"So we're clear?" He was smirking. Asshat.

"Crystal. No hiding my sausage without a skin. No loud noises during said activity."

"Jacob."

I grabbed our plates and headed for the sink.

"Look, dad, I don't know how she feels. She might never want to see me again."

Billy bristled. "Don't be ridiculous. Why wouldn't she want you? Us Black men are always in demand for our good looks and general air of leadership. Your great-grandfather Ephraim Black, for example, was quite the ladies' man. It's said his muscular physique and ability to skin a skunk singlehanded enticed women across the Northwest. And your mother and I were quite the-"

"La la la la la!" I yelled as I set the plates to drain and ran from the kitchen. Dad had a habit of... oversharing... about his and mom's clearly energetic private life prior to the accident. I could hear his laughter even in my room. Bastard always had the upper hand.

Still, I was glad breakfast had effectively shunted the remnants of my dream from my head. I stripped off and wrapped a towel around my waist, before stepping into the bathroom and starting up the shower. While I waited for it to warm, I brushed my teeth and stared critically at my reflection. I'd never really been one for self-abuse, but all I could see were reasons Bella wouldn't want me.

I was stooped in front of the mirror because I was stupidly, freakishly tall. I was two years younger. I could hardly grow a damn beard, for God's sake. When I found myself frowning at a mole on my stomach and wondering about corrective surgery, I decided that was enough insanity for the morning and stepped into the shower, losing myself in the warmth and the steam.

By the time I finally got out my fingers and toes were wrinkly and I was possibly the cleanest Jacob in the continental USA. But I couldn't really stay away from my phone any longer. What if she called? She'd probably call, right? To say thanks but no thanks?

I pulled on a pair of boxers, then jeans and an old grey t-shirt, and sloped out to the garage. If there was one place I could try to find some peace in my desperate head, it was there. I was just unnecessarily changing the truck's oil, about half an hour later, when I heard a car approaching. I felt like throwing up. I grabbed a rag and wiped down my hands before shutting my eyes and trying to take a breath. When I opened them again, a red car hove into view. I clenched my jaw, holding on to my last few moments of sweet, uncertain ignorance.

The car lurched to a halt outside of the house. I found I was moving forward without conscious effort - I was half way across the garage when I heard the car door slam and all the way into the doorway when her small body careered so fucking deliciously into mine.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist to steady her as she pulled back just enough to see my face. Her hair was a mess, her dark eyes were tired and she was biting hard at her bottom lip. She had never looked so beautiful. I could feel my control slipping; if she didn't do something in the next ten seconds, she was going to find herself pinned to the hood of my truck by my hips. This had to mean she was mine, right? Right?

Then she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed me.