No copyright infringement intended. Twilight is not mine.

Early chapter, yay!

Sarcastic Bimbo betas and finds the best memes out there. I tinker, so any mistakes are mine.

CHAPTER THREE

EDWARD

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Bella's eyes go wide, and she gasps. "Shit, I can't believe I forgot about Jake!"

"Who's Jake?" There's a bitter, jealous tightening in my chest. Who is this Jake asshole, and why wasn't he there to help Bella out last night? Not that I regret being the one to come to her rescue. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, because it's second nature. Emmett and I have looked out for her since she was in grade school, and I won't stop now. Emmett would kick my ass. I would kick my ass.

"My dog," she answers with a sigh.

Relief washes over me, and I try not to think too hard about why that is.

"Can you drop me off at the pound? I've got to pick him up, and I'm hoping my truck is still there."

I glance over and find her watching me with pleading eyes. "Sure. Got an address?"

She maps out the address on her phone and sets the route. The robot lady speaks, and we're on our way.

As if I'd say no. I'll do anything for this girl; she's practically my sister.

Except, there's nothing brotherly about what I feel where she's concerned.

I come to a red light and take the opportunity to ogle her while she's organizing her stuff. "Why is your dog at the pound?"

She looks up and catches me, a smirk curling one side of her mouth. Then her expression falls, and she makes a pained face.

"Because that's where I got arrested."

"What?" She's fucking with me. Has to be.

"Shut up. I know you heard me." She stubbornly stares straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

A horn blares behind me and I take off, embarrassed to have been caught lingering at a green light like an asshole. However, I'm not going to let a little vehicular shame keep me from getting the rest of the story. Thank you, Paul Harvey.

"Okay, I'll bite. How in the hell did you get arrested at the dog pound?"

"Did you hear my eyes roll, right there? Because you should've. They almost fell down into my cranium. Terrible pun, by the way."

I cover my mouth with a hand so she doesn't see me grin. "'Cranium.' Impressive anatomical vocabulary, Bella."

"I aim to please you," she shoots back.

My whole body goes up in flames, because my dick takes that comment very literally. He would love for her to please him. And I would love it very, very much.

Ignoring my unruly body, I attempt to pry the details out of Bella, yet again. "It would please me to hear the whole story. How did you get arrested at the dog pound?"

She sighs loudly, and I can see her chewing on a fingernail in my peripheral vision. This has got to be good, but only if I can get her to spill. I decide to go with what's always worked in the past—teasing. Bella and I have a long history of yanking each other's chains.

There goes my dick again. He's really reaching with that one. Fuck, I've got to get this out of my system. Bella and I will never happen. It shouldn't happen, because who does that? Who goes after his best friend's baby sister? I won't be that guy.

Newly resolved, I try again. "So … by dog pound, do you mean the Dogg Pound? Please tell me you got arrested for smoking weed with Snoop Dogg. That would be amazing."

That draws a little laugh out of her, in spite of her obvious embarrassment. "Sorry, it's not that awesome. Weed is legal here now. Also, I thought Snoop changed his name to Snoop Lion or something."

I laughed and shook my head. "He did, but it didn't last long. He's back to his old ways, smokin' indo and sippin' on gin and juice."

She smirks and returns, "With his mind on his money and his money on his mind?"

Stuck at another red light, I sneak a glance at her profile. Her smile is a little more relaxed, her cheeks a pretty shade of pink. The flush goes all the way down to her collarbones, where it disappears beneath her shirt. My mouth goes dry as I picture just how far it might go.

Realizing there's not a whole lot of room for movement in my jeans, I force myself to focus on the intersection in front us, and berate myself internally. How would I explain it to Emmett if I was in an accident because I was too distracted by imagining what Bella looks like topless?

An awkward silence fills the car. Bella fiddles with her seatbelt strap and stares out the windshield as the light turns green, and I begin the trek to the next stoplight.

"Come on. You can tell me. I'm sworn to secrecy," I promise.

Her head whips over. "You promise you won't tell Emmett?"

"Of course I promise." I won't sell her out like that. As long as it's not anything truly dangerous.

We come to a stop again. Jesus, I hate traffic... but damn if I'm not thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to look at her. I stretch my arm across the console, holding out my hand for her to shake.

With a serious expression, she takes my hand in a firm grip. I can tell she's trying to intimidate me into keeping my promise, but her small hand can't get much leverage on my larger one. She stares down at our joined hands, and that blush appears again.

It seems I'm not the only one affected, here. The knowledge is a double-edged sword: it's nice to know she's attracted to me, but it cuts deep that we can't do anything about it.

A horn sounds behind us, startling Bella into jerking her hand out of mine.

Fuck! Twice in one trip. I push a little too hard on the gas, and the car lurches ahead, forcing us back into the bucket seats.

"Sorry about that," I mumble, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Women don't affect me like this. Not normally—but nothing about Bella has ever been anything as boring as normal. It intrigues the hell out of me. Always has.

Her voice, when it comes, knocks me out of my disconcerting thoughts.

"Jake likes to jump," she says quietly. "And dig. And climb. Basically anything that will get him out of the back yard. Over the fence, under it, through it ... you get the picture."

I frown. "Sounds like a lot of trouble." I can't imagine having to take care of a pet. I can barely feed and water myself at times.

She shrugs, smiling fondly in spite of her pet's negative qualities. "Other than that stuff, he's the best dog on the planet. Smartest, too. Unfortunately, he's also the best at escaping."

"Maybe you should have named him Houdini." I shoot her a quirky grin.

"Maybe." She sighs. "The dog catcher hates him. And me."

My brows go up. "Dog catcher is a real job?" I thought they only existed in old cartoons and TV shows.

She snorted. "Apparently. She's picked him up four times now. She's got it out for him."

"So … that still doesn't explain how you got arrested." I stop at yet another red light, but I'm grateful for the delay. We're getting close to our destination, and I'm afraid she's going to bolt as soon as we get to the shelter.

"Like I said, he's been locked up three times before this. The fee to get Jake back is $150 every time." Bella scowled. "This last time, she saw me running down the block after him, screaming 'Wait! That's my dog!' The bitch just locked him in the back of her truck and left me standing in the middle of the street with a leash dangling from my fist." She half-smiles. "I gave her the old Emmett Double Salute."

Laughing out loud, I say, "I had no idea you could get arrested for flipping off the dog catcher."

"You can't," she said flatly. "It's what I did afterward that got me arrested."

She looks so uncomfortable, I'm afraid she might just jump out of the car. I hit the locks again, just to remind her she can't escape me without spilling the whole story.

"Keep going—you can't stop there."

Finally, she blurts out, "I got arrested for trespassing."

Puzzled, I ask, "What's that got to do with your dog?"

"I was trying to get Jake out. When the shelter is full, they leave stray dogs in the outside runs. I saw him out there when I pulled up. No one was out there, and the kennel was unlocked," she babbled, coming to an abrupt stop. "So … I just opened the door and let him out."

We pull up to the shelter and I ease the car into park, turning toward her in my seat. "You busted him out?"

She laughs a little, but the flush of her cheeks and the set of her shoulders tell me it's only out of embarrassment. "Yep."

"So, you're telling me you stole your own dog?"

"Yes!" she hisses.

I can't help it; I crack up laughing. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. "How is that possible?" I manage through my laughter.

Bella shoots me a dirty look as she jerks open the car door. I grin. Damn, she's fucking cute when she's pissed.

"Thanks for the ride, Edward. I'll see you around."

"Wait!" I scramble out of the car after her. "What if your truck isn't here?"

She falters, scanning the parking lot. Her shoulders slump. "Dammit!" She throws up her hands. "Great, now I'll have to pay a fee to spring my truck, too!"

"Well, let's go get Jake, then. I can give you two a ride to the impound lot." Belatedly, I realize I've offered to let a dog into my car. I wince at the thought of slobber and fur and claws all over my pristine seats. Maybe it's one of those dogs that don't shed—some kind of hypoallergenic frou-frou fluffball that she carries around in her purse. I mentally cross my fingers.

"I'm so sorry about this. Are you sure?"

"Positive," I return with a grin, trying to cover up my dog-in-car apprehension. I exit the car and come around to get her. "Come on. Introduce me to the guy you're willing to get arrested for." I throw an arm around her shoulders as we walk across the lot. It's friendly. Brotherly, even—but I can't get my mind off how good her body feels tucked next to mine. I awkwardly let my arm drop as we reach the shelter doors.

Bella stiffens as we catch sight of the sign: CLOSED. "Shit. It's closed? Damn it!"

"Looks like it is." I realize my observation is a mistake when she gives me a death glare, but I'm still flooded with relief at the fact that there won't be a dog in my car today.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Okay, so we can get Jake tomorrow," I offer. Anything to get back in her good graces. Even clean dog hair out of my car.

"As long as I can get my truck out of impound, you won't have to worry."

"Worry? About what?"

"Having a dog in your car," she says wryly.

"Huh?" I grunt, like an idiot.

"I know you, Edward. You were shitting your pants over having Jake in your precious car."

"I was not." I totally was.

"You totally were."

God, can she read my mind?

I scramble to convince her I'm not a materialistic asshole.

"I let you in my car after a night in jail. A dog is nothing after that." Oh, shit, why did that just come out of my mouth?

Why, when it does the exact opposite of what I'm trying to accomplish? Because I'm an idiot around this girl. As usual.

"What did you just say?" Bella's voice is deadly quiet. Like a chunk of sodium dropped in a vat of water—deceptively hushed, until everything explodes in your face.

"Ah … of course, I'd love to have Jake in my car?" I know it'll never work, but a guy has to try.

"Try again, asshole."

Oh, how that sentence takes me back. Emmett and I must've heard it a million times growing up. We really were little shits to her a lot of the time. It's a wonder she still likes us.

"Okay … you look lovely, for someone who spent the night in jail?"

Her scowl lessens. "You're lucky I'm too tired to kick you in the junk."

Please, don't. My junk likes you.

I've got to stop thinking like this, but I don't know how. Or if I really want to anyway.

- -x- -

When we reach the impound lot, it's there in big black letters: CLOSED ON SUNDAYS.

The fenced lot is padlocked within an inch of its life, and razor-wire sits atop the chain-link fence. It looks like a prison for cars.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bella groans, actually face-palming herself as we come to a stop in front of the locked gate. "Of course. Everything in government is closed on Sundays," she mutters.

"I'd avoid the casinos if I were you." I don't know why I antagonize her so, but I can't stop. It's ingrained in my very being. I put the car in park so I can angle my body toward hers.

"This isn't funny, Edward."

I think I see her lips tremble, and instantly feel bad. "Hey, Bella, I'm sorry, kid—"

"Don't call me that." she snaps.

I shut my mouth, not knowing what to say, but she fills the silence.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. You're being so nice to me—carting me around all over the city today."

"Where else would I be?" There's certainly no other person on the planet I'd rather pick up from jail.

Truthfully, I'm not sure how to treat this older version of the sweet little kid I used to know, so I fall back on old patterns—teasing her. Back when we were all younger, I spent many family dinners with the Swans. Sarcasm is a sport in that family, and they spend much of their time teasing each other relentlessly. Bella's always been a good target; her reactions never disappoint anyone. Riling her up was—and still is—a favorite pastime of Emmett's, and as his friend, I joined in. Now, it's different. I still enjoy provoking this girl, but now it seems a lot more dangerous than it did to my younger self. Now, I want to rile her up ... and then get her naked.

I'm too old for her. She's twenty three—not even out of college, and I'm thirty-one. Then again, she is in graduate school. It's not like she's a freshman.

However, she's Emmett's sister, which is all the reason I need to stop thinking like this.

Bella gives me a sheepish smile, unaware of the tornado of thoughts running through my brain. "Well, I'm glad you're here. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"You'd probably still be in jail," I joke.

She laughs, which lightens both my heart and my conscience. I like making her feel better. More importantly, I care how she feels, what she thinks. She's one of the few people in this world who can claim those attributes.

"True. I'd stay there for at least another night before I called Emmett or Dad."

"You wouldn't call Renée?"

She snorts. "Come on. You know she can't keep a secret. Dad and Emmett would be down there in a heartbeat with their judge-y stares and 'I'm so disappointed in you's'."

"And their open wallets," I remind her.

"Not worth it. The lectures … the ridicule."

She says the last word with a sour face.

"What makes you think you won't get that with me?"

Laughing again, she says, "You're not nearly as bad as those two."

"I can try," I offer, though I don't mean it. Which I suspect she knows.

"Please, don't." She looks out the windshield and sighs. "Would you mind driving me home? It's not too far from here."

I'm not ready to let her go just yet. These last couple hours with her have been more fun than anything I can remember for a long time. I'm glad for the excuse to keep her with me a little longer… but I want more.

"Would you like to have lunch first? My breakfast consisted of Gatorade and Advil. I imagine jailhouse fare isn't much better."

"Gatorade and Advil? Sounds like my entire freshman year," she muses.

It better not have been her entire freshman year. Especially if she was as big an idiot as I was last night.

"Partied hard last night, Edward?" She leans closer, inspecting my eyes for redness, gently prodding underneath. "Look at those circles! Yep, I'd say you had a few too many," she surmises, and sinks back into her seat.

She doesn't have to look so satisfied with herself. I'm older than her; of course my bender shows on my face. My body doesn't bounce back from binge drinking like it did when I was her age.

"You could say that. Hence the Gatorade and Advil, and why I need real food. Are you in?"

"The jail food was horrible." She shudders. "They gave us a bologna sandwich. For breakfast! Oh, and some Tang that they probably got when they retired all the space shuttles."

I chuckle and cringe at the same time. "That's pretty awful. Does Tang go bad, though?"

She pauses, making a cute little scrunch between her eyebrows. "Probably not. All the sugar and preservatives … if I was a Prepper, I'd stockpile it for the zombie apocalypse."

"Good. I'll add it to my stash," I deadpan.

"You do not have a stash." She looks at me like I'm crazy.

I am, just not in the way she thinks. I'm crazy for thinking about her the way I do. Like she's someone even remotely available to me.

"I had to try," I admit, grinning. "Anyway, I think we've established our lack of a proper breakfast. Come have lunch with me. My treat.

She smirks, considering my offer. "Okay, lunch. But I'm buying, since you literally bailed me out of jail an hour ago."

"No can do. You've got to get your dog and your truck out of hock tomorrow. I'm buying." If I have anything to say about it, I'm paying for the other stuff, too. Getting a vehicle out of impound is ridiculously expensive. Personal experience. Fucking parking tickets.

Huffing a breath, she grumbles, "Stubborn man."

"I'll take that as a yes." I straighten in my seat and shift the transmission into drive.

"Wait!"

"I'm not letting you pay, Bella."

"Not that. I need to change first. And shower." She sniffs her sweatshirt. "I smell like prison."

"I didn't know prison had a smell."

"Me neither, but it's bologna and desperation. Oh, and stale beer. I think they had me in the drunk tank."

I crack up. "That's gross. Let's get you showered, then."

- -x- -

Sitting in Bella's living room, knowing she's just a few walls away, naked, fucks with my head, big time. Both of them. While she's getting ready, I consider using the restroom to relieve myself, but nix that idea when I realize she's in the only bathroom in the apartment—which makes my problem worse, because my dick's most fervent wish is to be in there with her. By the time she comes out of her bedroom, dressed in tight jeans and a loose gray sweater, hair thrown up in some kind of messy knot, I'm a ball of nervous guilt and sexual tension.

"Ready?" Her smile is bright, and so damn beautiful, and I hope she doesn't notice the way I practically eye-fuck her.

I shove back the desire to kiss the shit out of her and rise from the couch, nodding. "Do you have a place in mind? Most places I know are really close to the hospital."

She pouts. "Don't want me to meet your friends?"

I can tell she's joking, but I feel the need to explain myself anyway. "More like I eat at those places more than once a week, and I'd like some variety."

"Sure, Edward. I get it. Probably smart to keep me away. I know things."

"What things?"

"Emmett told me all about your crush on Mrs. Goff when you two were in eighth grade."

I scoff. "I'm not the only kid to have a crush on his teacher."

"But you might be the only one who got caught leaving a rose on her front porch—by her husband—at two in the morning!"

I sigh, knowing where this is heading. I'm going to kill her motherfucking brother.

"But the note—the note tied to that rose was the kicker:

Dearest Teresa

be my one true beloved

my señorita.

You wrote her a haiku!"

Tears of laughter leak out of the corners of her eyes, and I wonder how she's kept from using this against me for so long. She must have an enormous amount of willpower.

"Are you done laughing yet?" I ask flatly, because I have no excuses. Eighth grade me was a supreme dork. I own my mistakes, and that one just proves I'm determined and somewhat resourceful, if not exactly stealthy.

She wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh, Edward. I'll never be done laughing at you."

I raise a brow and gesture toward the door. "Come on. You can laugh at me in the car, then."

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True story: my dad was arrested for stealing his own dog. My mom left him in jail overnight, LOL. The crime went down pretty much like Bella said, except for chasing the dog catcher down the street. I like to embellish.

So, Jake's a dog. And Bella stole him. Better than some of the scenarios you all were thinking, right? I hope so.

Thanks for reading. 3