When Friday morning slowly made its appearance, I fought to get out of bed. Ever since I'd made the bet with Jacob, my beauty sleep had suffered. Not only my sleep, but my school work as well. Jacob used his scary stare to sit behind me again in History this morning. I ignored him the best I could, but I shivered whenever his hot breath blew against my skin.

I've been able to avoid him during English, but only if I rush. Edward still insists on walking me to my classes, which is starting to be a problem. I used the excuse twice that I needed to hurry to talk to Miss Davenport about cheerleading practice before class started, but I can't keep up the ruse forever. And Mrs. Clark is beginning to get suspicious of my reoccurring library requests in homeroom.

In short: I'm screwed.

Jacob's threatening words continue to reverberate through my mind, "You can't avoid me forever."

What sucks is he seems to be right. I thought avoiding him would be easy, and maybe over time, he'd start to forget about this stupid bet. I was fooling myself. There's no way he's going to let it go. And even though I want to tell him I was just kidding and play the whole thing off as some stupid joke, I have my pride too. I want to prove to myself that I can do it. I want to win the bet and then throw it in his face.

The emotions I have walking into homeroom are probably similar to someone walking down death row. I have no choice but to submit to my fate. There's no way Mrs. Clark will give me a pass to the library today. I'm doomed to sit next to Jacob and his stare for the whole hour.

Piling up my books and notebooks around me, I plan on submerging myself into my homework, hoping that it will be enough to deflect any of Jacob's advances. Nervous anticipation keeps my knees bouncing. I know he'll be entering at any moment, but I refuse to watch the door. About thirty seconds after the tardy bell rings, the door swings open. I don't have to look up to know it's him. The chair scrapes across the linoleum as Jacob sits down, noisily throwing his bag on top of the table and scratching the floor again as he lurches the chair forward. Obviously he's making a spectacle of the fact that he's late and daring anyone to notice. Does he have to defy everyone at every turn?

Strategically, I place my bag into the middle of the table. It's a small barrier, but it's enough of one that he can't scoot closer and 'accidentally' touch me.

To my surprise, Jake actually takes out a slip of paper and a book. As he begins writing, I turn back to my own work. Seconds later, a folded-up slip of paper is being tucked under my left hand. I slide it back towards Jacob without so much as a glance.

He glides it back.

I can see where this is going.

Ignoring the note, I turn back to my book, frustrated and re-reading the same paragraph for the fourth time in a row. The words all seem to jumble together as my brain keeps trying to focus on Jacob and what on earth his note could say. As I'm debating on whether or not I should just look at it, my phone vibrates in my bag.

Yes, a distraction!

Flipping open my phone, I quickly check my text messages.

Football practice from 6-9 tonight. See you after? – Edward

Charlie works late. I'll wait up for you. ; )

I can't keep the goofy grin off of my face as I slide my phone back into the outer pocket of my bag. I catch Jacob's eyes lingering on my cell phone for a beat too long; they turn to mine, cocking an eyebrow in silent question.

As if I would tell him who I was texting. He has no right to know.

Turning back to my book, I notice the note sitting half way between Jacob and me. My curiosity wants me to pick it up and read it, but my conscience is telling me not to.

My curiosity wins as I unfold the small sheet.

Admit it, Princess, you're into me as much as I want to be in you. Pick you up at 6.

Crumpling up the paper, I throw it at him. If that's not a 'no,' I don't know what is. He catches it easily, chuckling at my appalled expression.

Why did I even look?

~~-BoM-~~

"What are your plans tonight, Bella?" Angela asks while whisking off her sweaty tee shirt and throwing it into her gym bag. I follow with my own damp shirt. Miss Davenport wasted no effort with us today during routines.

"Edward's coming over later, after football practice. What about you? Are you seeing Ben tonight?"

At the mention of Ben, Angela's face brightens, a large smile pulling up her lips. "Yeah, I promised my mom I'd watch the twins, so Ben's going to come by after they're in bed." After slipping on a clean shirt and pair of shorts, Angela and I are on our way out to the parking lot.

Aside from a single wink during weights (when Jacob caught me staring at his biceps), he hasn't spoken to me since- well, technically, he hasn't spoken to me at all today. He's been around but not in his usual charming manor. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was avoiding me this afternoon.

Even during lunch, he was MIA. Poor Lauren didn't seem to know what to do with herself. For the past two days, I've been forced to endure her fluttering her eyelashes and eye-fucking him across the room. The fact that he blew off her advances left me feeling a little relieved and bothered at the same time. He did exactly what I thought he would do. He got what he wanted from her and dropped her.

Tossing my things into the back seat of my car and hollering a good bye to Angela, I notice a slip of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. A smile plays at my lips at the thought of Edward leaving me a sweet message. I open it greedily.

Don't forget, I'll see you tonight.

Hmm, well, that isn't as sweet as I expected.

And why would Edward think I'd forget?

My car lets out an odd grinding sound as I start it up. Being a girl that knows absolutely nothing about cars, I choose to ignore it but make a mental note to have Charlie look at it tomorrow morning before he goes to work. As I'm driving home, my thoughts automatically drift to Jacob. As much as I try to force him out of my head, he's always there.

That's just like him too, always popping up when I least expect it.

A vibration cuts through my thoughts as my car starts sputtering, shaking me violently. Pulling over to the shoulder of the road, I cut the engine.

What the heck is wrong with the Mustang? It's a brand new car! It's not supposed to be having these kinds of problems yet.

After waiting a minute, I try to restart the engine. It groans with a horrible screeching sound, causing me to jump. Attempting to turn it over again seems like the stupidest idea ever, but I do it anyway. It sputters and screeches its protests at me again.

Well, shit.

My gaze takes a quick sweep ahead and behind me, searching for any cars or help nearby, but there is none. I'm practically stuck in the middle of nowhere, nothing but bushes and trees surrounding me, the curve in the road keeping me fairly well hidden.

Oh well. This is what daddies are for.

Turning half-way around in my seat, I dig in my backpack pocket for my cell phone. Except, it's empty.

My hands move faster, a slight sense of panic overtaking me as I basically crawl into the backseat searching for my cell. Ducking my head under the seats, I run my hands over the floorboards, between the seats, and anywhere else it could have gone to. I dump my bag upside down, scattering the contents into the leather bucket seat. Nothing. It's not here!

Shit! What do I do now?

What did people do before cell phones? Righting myself behind the steering wheel, my eyes dart back and forth over the expanse of the road. How safe would it be to flag someone down driving by? Leaning down, I pop the hood of my car. Maybe if I prop it up like they do in the movies, it'll signal to a driver-by that I need help. All I need is to borrow someone's cell phone long enough to call Charlie.

Getting out of the car, I walk towards the front and open the hood. The heat blasts onto my face, and the smell of the engine overtakes me. Accidentally, I drop the hood, latching it back closed. So much for that idea.

The sound of an engine purring around the bend in the road catches my attention. I don't know whether I should run into the middle of the street and start waving my arms wildly or if I should just stand here and hope whoever it is stops to help. As the sound gets closer, I move to the driver side of my car, deciding to go with an in between method of waving but staying on the shoulder of the road.

As the car approaches, the engine roars loader - wait, I know that sound. No!

How does he do that? Seriously? Does he have a tracking device on me?

Spinning around, I grasp at the door handle. It pulls, but the door stays tightly shut.

Oh. My. God. I locked my keys in the car?

Cupping my hands around my eyes, I peer into the tinted glass windows. My keys are hanging securely in the ignition. I could die. I could seriously die, right here, right now from embarrassment.

Pathetic little whimpers come out of me as I slide my head onto my forearm, hiding my face against the roof of the Mustang. The roar of Jacob's motorcycle engine cuts off behind me. I want to slide down to the ground, crumple up and hope the earth swallows me whole, but somehow, I find what little dignity I have left and turn to face my 'rescuer.'

"Car trouble?" He's wearing a crooked, arrogant smile, black jeans and a dark grey, muscle tee shirt. I hate how gorgeous he is. I suddenly feel inferior with my messy hair, tee shirt and shorts.

"Obviously, but don't worry about it. I already called someone. They should be here any minute." I'm lying, and I suck at lying. Jacob gives me a skeptical look as he walks around to the front of my car. I follow him hesitantly.

"Six, right?" Jacob looks down, taking his cell phone from his pocket and checking the clock. "Looks like I'm right on time."

"What? On time for what?" I question, having no idea what he's talking about.

"I forgave you the first time you forgot. Let's not make it a habit, Princess. I don't like to be stood up."

"I imagine few people do," I retort. Placing both hands on the hood of my car, he leans forward. I have no idea what he's thinking, but he's making me nervous.

"That's what I like about you, Princess; you're quick. Now pop the hood; we'll take a look."

Biting my lip, I look away from him. "I can't," I mumble.

"Listen, I don't have all night. It's a small lever under the dashboard; it even has a picture on it, so girls like you know what it's for. Go pull it."

Giving him a dirty look, I snap back, "I can't. I locked the keys in the car." My words are sharp and meant to make him sound stupid, but ironically, they make me sound like an idiot instead. My cheeks flush hot.

Booming laughter emits from Jacob. I jump, slightly startled by the sound. I've never heard him laugh so openly before.

Aren't I embarrassed enough as it is? Can't he just leave me alone and let me be rescued by the next person? Yet, with my luck, the next person would be a serial killer. At this point, I think I'd rather take my chances on the serial killer.

"Yeah, well, you can go if you want. I'm sure…" I hesitate. "…Edward will be here soon to get me. I called him a few minutes ago." I'm hoping the mention of Edward will make Jacob want to leave, though I don't know why. He's never seemed to give a damn about Edward before.

"You called him?" Jacob asks, disbelieving.

"Yep. So I'm fine here, really. You can go. I'm sure you have places to be, girls to see." My last three words taper off as my stomach clenches.

"You called him before or after you locked your keys in your car?"

What's with the fifty questions? Jeez.

"Before," I answer.

"Isn't Doucheward busy until nine?"

"How do you know that?" I flinch at giving myself away. It probably isn't hard to find out how long football practice runs.

"I read your text messages." A devilish smile crosses his lips as he waves the cell phone he was holding a minute ago. The one I had mistaken as his is actually mine.

"You stole my cell phone?" Lunging forward, I try to snatch it out of his grasp as he swings his arm up higher, out of my reach.

"I didn't steal it. You dropped it."

I don't believe him for one second.

"Now, since we both know you didn't call Doucheward, I'll offer one last time. Are you going to accept my help, Princess?"

"Are you going to give me back my cell?" As soon as I had my phone back, I had every intention of calling Charlie.

"You're hurting my feelings. I promised to pick you up at six, and here you're not even ready." The note from homeroom flashes through my mind. It said he'd pick me up at six, though I ignored it and assumed my non answer was enough of a no.

Is it coincidence that he happens to be picking me up at six on the side of the road? Has he done this somehow?

No. He couldn't have.

Could he? No. I dismiss the thought.

Opening my cell, he dials someone. Before I have a chance to dispute, he starts talking.

"Hey, Quil, I need you to bring the tow truck out here to Calawah Way about a quarter of a mile west of Elk Creek. It's a little sky blue Mustang." He pauses, giving me a sideways glance as he adds, "With a 'thanks dad' license plate." He laughs lightly. "And bring the slim jim; she locked her keys inside."

He hangs up, tucking my phone safely into his front pocket. My initial response is to go in after it, but I quickly shake the thought.

Jacob walks by me, brushing his arm against mine, which sends a tingle down my spine. Turning around, I watch as he straddles his bike, his hands grasping at the handle bars, his broad chest leaning forward and the muscles in his arms flexing. It's a sight to see. Automatically, my body reacts, rushing with heat from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

"Get on. We'll meet him back at the shop."

Seeing as how I don't have much of a choice, I regretfully follow, taking the black helmet from Jacob's extended hand and putting it on.

The helmet feels heavy, weighing down on top of my head as it blocks part of my hearing, making the sounds of the outside world a little fuzzy. I try not to stare blankly at the bike, but in all honesty, I'm terrified to get on it. I realize my butt's supposed to go on the tiny pad behind Jacob, but there's little to no room on it. I'll practically be straddling his backside. He lets out an impatient sigh, so I move behind him, throwing one leg over the seat.

"Careful not to touch the exhaust pipe. I'd hate to have a burn scar marking up those gorgeous legs." Okay, does he just say these things to scare me? Or is he serious?

My front half is pressing against his back as I place my hands lightly on his sides, barely griping at the hard muscles under his shirt. Jacob gives me a wolfish grin over his shoulder, grabbing my hands and wrapping them tighter around his waist as he takes off in one swift movement. If he hadn't moved my hands, I'm sure I would have fallen right off the back of the motorcycle. Instinctively, I grip tighter around his waist and bury my face into his back, trying to ignore his woodsy and pine scent. God, he smells so good.

No, Bella. Don't think like that.

~~-BoM-~~

The auto shop looks the same as it had on Monday night. The two garage doors are wide open while several motorcycles sit out front. Jacob parks his bike near the entrance and kills the engine. Immediately, I hear cat calls and whistles directed at us from inside the shop. My face burns redder as Jacob steps off the bike. I hate to say that I'm nervous and scared, but the truth is, I am.

With a gentle smile, Jacob unclasps the helmet, removes it from my head and hangs it from the handle bar of the bike. The gesture completely floors me. I'm too stunned by his sweet actions to do anything other than stare. Gripping my hand in his, he helps me off of the bike and leads me into the garage.

The smell of oil, grease and sweat overtake the large room. There are three boys roughly the same size and shape as Jacob standing around two separate cars and wearing grease-covered, blue shirts. There's a fourth body half hidden underneath one vehicle with only his legs hanging out.

Feeling completely intimidated, I realize that I've huddled in closer to Jacob's arm with my wide eyes scanning over the scene before me. Two of the four men come walking up to meet us; one smiles while the other scowls.

"Where'd you pick up this one, Jake? She looks a little… fresh." The smiling boy slaps Jacob on the back as he winks at me.

Unconsciously, I squeeze Jacob's hand. He squeezes back and smiles down at me. I'm not sure if that smile is supposed to be reassuring or offering a false sense of calm before throwing me to the wolves.

"South of the highway actually," Jacob responds, his eyes boring into mine.

"You look too sweet to be hanging out with my little brother," the man with a scowl says.

Brother? This is Jacob's brother? He does look a few years older, and there are a lot of similarities between them. Though, I could probably say the same about the rest of the boys here too.

"Come on, Paul, you know I like my girls sweet."

I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

"I know you like girls. Period," his brother says sardonically. I'm beginning to feel like he's angry with Jacob for some reason. Maybe because he brought me here?

The smiling boy laughs, "What happened to the little tiger you had in here a few days ago? That, my friend, was a girl who knew what she was getting herself into."

A head pops out from under a car hood and shouts over at us, "You only liked her cause her ass was hanging out of her skirt, Embry!"

"Like you weren't checking it out, Jared!" Embry's smile lights up his face again as he gazes down at me. "All I'm saying is that this little sweetheart here is too good for Jake, and you all know it."

"And I suppose you're perfect for her?" Jared shouts again, though this time his head stays tucked inside the motor.

"I could be," Embry laughs.

I swear to God, I hear a rumbling growl emit from Jacob's chest.

"Get your own girl, Embry, and stop trying to steal away mine." Jacob's fist connects to Embry's shoulder, knocking him back a step. The movement is both forceful and quick. I don't know if it's playful or a warning, and from the look of it, Embry doesn't either. His eyes shift from Jake to me and back again. Even his brother switches his scowl to surprise. In my own curiosity, I take a peek at Jacob and see the look of warning in his eyes.

I'm momentarily flabbergasted by Jacob's actions. It's almost as if he's being protective of me. Then the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. No, he's protecting his bike. He has to win me to keep his bike. I feel as if one of those bricks made a home in my stomach, as it's heavy with… what? Disappointment?

"Jake, can I talk to you a minute?" Paul asks. His eyebrows furrow as he inclines his head for Jake to follow. When he's furrowing his eyes like that, I can see the family resemblance.

At the loss of Jacob, I feel isolated. Even as Embry sidles up beside me, I feel scared and alone. I don't take my eyes off Jacob as he walks, stopping a few feet away. I strain my ears to hear what they're saying.

"Where's Claire at tonight?" Paul asks strictly.

"She's with Leah; they're going to see a movie tonight. No worries," Jake responds. My chest tightens. Who's Claire? Who's Leah?

"Jake's pretty serious over you, huh?" Embry laughs. It sounds forced and a little nervous.

"No," I reply distractedly, "he doesn't really like me." I look up at Embry, and he gives me a disbelieving look. Actually, it's more of an "are you crazy?" look. But he doesn't know about the bet between us. So he doesn't know that Jake's only pretending to like me in order to seduce me.

Switching my gaze back to Paul and Jacob, my eyes catch on Paul's movements as he slips something into Jacob's hand. I can't tell what it is, but Jacob's eyes narrow down at it.

"Where'd you all get this?" he whispers harshly.

"Don't worry about it; I told you I'd take care of us," Paul answers.

"So what's you're name anyway? Or should I just call you Sweetheart?" Embry interrupts my eavesdropping once more. My eyes snap back to Jacob, watching as he tucks a wad of cash into his back pocket with a look of disapproval.

"Bella; Bella Swan," I answer.

"Swan? Hey, you're not related to Chief Swan, are you?" Immediately, the room goes quiet. Every pair of eyes land on me with the exception of the guy under the car.

"Uh, yeah, he's my father." I know I look confused because I am. You'd think I'd just announced that I was the daughter of Hitler.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Jake? You're fucking Swan's daughter?" Paul practically explodes. As much as I want to tell everyone in the room that we are most definitely not sleeping together, I'm too scared to utter a word.

"I'm not fucking her, Paul, Jesus." Jacob takes his brother's anger in stride, though I'm trembling and backing up a step or two.

"You mean you're not fucking her yet! Are you crazy?" Paul yells again.

"He's genius. That's badass, man," Jared mutters in appreciation.

Paul's gaze snaps to Jared then back to Jake. "Is that what this is about? You think-"

"Paul!" The man under the car rolls out quickly and sits up. He looks a few years older than everyone else and exudes an air of power. I'm guessing this is Uley, the owner. He tosses some kind of tool down to the ground, the metal piece echoing through the garage as it bounces. "Shut the fuck up unless you know what you're yelling about!" He snaps, "Jake brought the girl in because her car broke down. She's business. I sent Quil out to pick up her car twenty minutes ago." The man stares Paul down until the redness in his face lessens. "Get back to work. You too, Embry." Without another word, he lies down and rolls back under the car.

"Sure thing, Sam," Embry says in a mocking manner. With a piercing glance at me, Paul stomps over to a car and picks up a wrench.

Now I know where Jacob gets his glare from.

Embry's warm hand clasps onto my shoulder. "Talk to you later, Bella. Oh, and when Jake breaks your heart, you know where to find me." He winks, clicks his tongue and shoots me an imaginary gun with his thumb and forefinger. In spite of it all, I smile.

Roughly shoving Embry backwards, Jacob snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me into his hard chest.

"What'd I tell you about scamming on my chicks?" All right, I'm definitely not okay with Jacob calling me one of his chicks. I try to tug out of his embrace, but he squeezes me tighter.

"Wait 'til you're done?" Embry laughs, clearly intending his remark to be a joke, but Jacob doesn't laugh. Making a hard fist, he takes a step toward Embry, who holds up his hands in surrender. "Just kidding, man; calm down. Watch out for this one, Sweetheart." He backs away, shaking his head slightly at Jake.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," Jacob whispers huskily, rubbing his nose into my hair. His warm breath brushes against my ear, causing me to shudder.

"What about my car?" It's natural to be worried about it, right? I mean, I left it on the side of the road, trusting Jacob (of all people) with it.

"Sam'll take care of it. Besides, you don't want to stand around in here while they work on it, do you?" He doesn't wait on me to answer as he takes my hand again and leads me out the back door of the garage.

Minutes later, Jacob's dragging me along the coast of Second Beach. Tugging on my hand, he pulls me down into the sand next to him, leaning back against a large piece of driftwood. He doesn't speak; he just stares out into the ocean, and I can't help but wonder what it is he's thinking about.

"Can I ask you something?" I venture, reprimanding myself for asking to ask a question.

"Sure, Princess, you can kiss me." He gives me a sideways glance and a smirk.

Damn him, now I'm picturing it. I do want to kiss him. Maybe it's due to all the times I thought it was going to happen and it didn't. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment, or maybe I just want to know what it would feel like.

"You know that's not what I was going to ask you," I reproach.

"Oh, then you want to know if you can blow me? Sure, I'll give it a whirl." He moves his hand down to the button of his pants as I give him an appalled look.

"Why are you so crude?" I nearly shout.

He shifts his upper body toward me, resting one elbow on his bent knee. "Why? Are you turned on by it?"

"No, turned off by it is more like it." With a huff, I cross my arms and look the other way.

"Fine, ask your question. Then we can cut all the bullshit and get naked."

"Can you ever have a normal conversation? I mean, are you capable of that?" What I want to say is 'Can you ever talk about something other than sex?' but that would make me turn three shades of red.

With a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes, he says, "All right. What, Princess," he taunts, "do you want to know?"

Ignoring his attitude, I wonder: Where do I start? There are so many things I want to know, and the fact that he's allowing me - albeit grudgingly - to ask makes me feel a surge of power.

"Why are you taking junior courses when you're a senior?" I don't realize how rude that sounds until it's already out. I want to know, of course, and for a split second, I thought it was the simplest of questions. I planned to start simple and move up to the more complex questions, like why Paul was so angry about my dad and who Claire is, but now I'm worried he won't answer me at all.

His jaw tightens as his eyes harden. I'm about to apologize when he answers, "I dropped out last year in March. I'm making up for the classes I missed this semester. Then next semester, I'll catch up with my senior courses and still be able to graduate on time."

"That's good," I reply, nodding dumbly and biting the inside of my cheek.

"No, I didn't want to drop out," he answers my unasked question. "I had no choice."

I know better than to push my luck, but I want to know more. Just as I'm about to ask, I surprise myself, the words tumbling out faster than I can stop them. "I heard you slept with Lauren."

"Where'd you hear that?" he asks with a hint of alarm. What? Did he think I wouldn't find out?

"Lauren told everybody at school." Okay, that wasn't completely true. She told our table of friends, but she could have told the whole school. It's possible.

"Did she? And what else did Lauren say?" His eyes narrow as he cocks his head slightly.

I blush crimson; the other things she said I don't want to repeat.

"What else did she say?" Jacob prods.

"Just that you, uh, knew what you were doing." I swallow noisily; Jacob's mouth tilts up into a crooked grin.

"Are you jealous, Princess?" He takes my hand in his and places it on his knee, widening his grin into a wolfish smile. "Do you wanna know what you missed out on?"

Sliding my hand onto his thigh, he lets go, leaving it to rest there a moment. I can feel the heat of his leg through his jeans, and my face is burning. I'm not sure what he wants me to do. Slide my hand up and down his leg? Keep it there?

The idea of my hand traveling north causes my heart to pump faster with a nervous energy. He gives me a smile that resembles the big bad wolf as he places his hand on top of mine again, moving it up, letting his intentions be known. My breathing shallows as my hand rides up his leg, slowly getting closer and closer to the crotch of his jeans. With a scream from my subconscious, I rip my hand away before it makes contact.

My breath is coming out in small pants, I know I'm beet red, and Jacob has the audacity to chuckle at me. I'm so stupid and embarrassed, and his laughing at me hurts my feelings. The corners of my lips twitch downward as I try to fight the tears that are welling up in my eyes and the lump forming in my throat. Bringing my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs and look the other way, trying to hide my hurt expression.

"Princess? Are you… are you crying?" he asks, astonished.

I shake my head vehemently, refusing to let him see me like this. God, I'm such a mess!

"You are crying. Come here." He places his palm on my lower back and his other hand on my arms, attempting to tug them free of their hold on my legs. Sniffling, I shake my head again, trying to regain my composure.

Jacob gives up trying to coax me over to him and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. Gripping my chin in his oversized hand, he forces me to face him. My eyes are downcast as I bite my lip.

"Princess, look at me."

My gaze shifts from the sand to the ocean to his face and finally settles on his eyes. His usual cocky demeanor softens to one of remorse.

"I'm sorry." His tone rings with sincerity. "I shouldn't have done that."

His hand on my back moves up, brushing a few wayward hairs off of my face and tucking them behind my ear. Slowly and deliberately, he leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead in a soothing kiss. He pulls back, barely a few inches away from me as he searches my eyes.

Fingers still curled beneath my chin, he smoothly runs his thumb across my lower lip as his other hand slides to the nape of my neck. It's as if I can physically see the walls he has built up around him crumbling down. His expression is open, earnest and endearing. His gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips as he begins to close the distance between us.

Closing my eyes, I revel in the feeling of his lips, soft and warm as they form against mine. It's sweet, passionate and romantic. The sound of the waves crashing along the shore adds to the perfection of the kiss.

With an unspoken unity, Jacob parts his lips at the same moment that I part mine. His tongue sweeps across my own with a flowing movement. My grip tightens on his shoulders, zealously returning his kiss.

A ringing sounds from within his pocket, pulling us apart.

Jacob flashes a look of frustration and apology at me as he pulls out his cell phone. Claire lights up the screen.

A stab of anger and hurt shoots through my heart as Jacob quickly opens the phone to answer.

"Hey, Bear," Jacob answers sweetly as he hurriedly stands and walks a few feet away from me. "I thought you were having a girls' night… What's wrong?" He glances over his shoulder at me then turns his back to me once more. "No, I'm at the shop," he lies, and I can't stop the scoff that comes out of my mouth. "I'll be there in twenty minutes… Love you, too." What did he just say? He snaps the phone shut and rubs at his eyes, gradually turning back to face me.

"Your car should be ready now. I'll walk you back." So that's it? No explanations; no apologies?

I'm seething. With rage or with disbelief or some other emotion that I can't even begin to pinpoint right now.

Some rational part of my brain is telling me to calm down; it's telling me I have no right to get upset. I have no claim on Jacob. He's not my boyfriend. He's free to see whoever he wants, free to do whoever he wants. And I have to remember: I'm just a bet.

I stand up without saying a word, brushing the sand and rocks free from my shorts, and stride pass him. I realize I'm coming off a little haughty, but I don't care.

"Now you're mad?" He rushes forward to catch up with me. "You know, your mood swings are a little hard to keep up with," he spits.

"Me? What about you? At least my reactions are normal. You're hot one minute and then cold the next!"

"You think I'm hot, Princess?" He's facing me and walking backwards, smiling like he won the lottery.

"I think you're infuriating! And cocky! And arrogant! And- and-"

"And what, Princess?"

And I think I have some seriously disturbing feelings for you that I can't even begin to comprehend right now. I don't answer as we walk side by side to the back door of the garage. The same boys are running around through the shop with the addition of one more, hovering by my car. Quil, I suspect.

Jacob walks right up to him. "So? Get her running?"

Quil tosses my keys to Jacob who catches them easily.

"Yep, good as new. This baby can really fly." Patting the hood of the car, he looks at me. "Hope you don't mind I took her for a test drive."

Several boys snicker as I wonder if he's kidding.

Sam walks around my car, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. The rag's already so filthy it couldn't possibly be helping.

"She is a beauty," Sam says, appraising my car. Jacob lets out a small cough that sounds a little like a warning. Sam rolls his eyes in response.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask Sam, having no idea what their little exchange is about.

"Don't worry about it," he answers. "It was a simple fix."

"Just some crossed wires; don't know how they got that way," Quil adds as the room erupts with laughter. I get the feeling that I'm missing something.

Jacob opens my car door and gestures me inside. I'm still fuming and refuse to look at him as I get in. Digging in his pocket, he pulls out my cell phone. I can't believe that I'd forgotten he had it.

Instead of handing it over, he makes a call, and his pocket starts ringing.

"There. Now I have your number." He tosses my phone into my lap. "I'll call you later."

I open my mouth to argue, but he shuts the door on my dispute.

As I'm pulling out of the garage, I watch Jacob straddle his bike and take off down the road. I hesitate a moment but follow in the same direction. Watching his headlamp turn a block ahead of me, I shut off my headlights and trail him.

Don't ask me why. I honestly couldn't tell you.

The last time I spied on him flashes through my brain, but I'm confident that this time I can be more careful. This time, I won't get caught. I keep at least a block's length away while driving and park in the shadows, watching as he pulls his bike into the driveway of a two story home. The front door swings open, the light inside the house illuminating a girl in the door way. She's wearing a yellow sundress that contrasts beautifully with her russet skin tone and edgy, short-cut hair. I immediately feel inferior, which I hate, because she looks like a Sports Illustrated model.

They talk briefly on the porch steps; Jacob nods, places his hand on her lower back and leads her inside, closing the door and shutting me out behind them.

So this is Claire? His girlfriend?

I thought he was the type to love 'em and leave 'em. The type that never settles down, but he's not. He's worse. He's the cheating type.

I can't believe he has a girlfriend! Isn't this something that he might have wanted to share at some point? I mean, he knew this whole time that I had a boyfriend-

Oh, my God! Edward!

What have I done? I kissed Jacob! I cheated on Edward!

Flipping my car around, I drive like a bat out of hell. It's a quarter 'til nine; if I hurry, I might make it home before he gets there.

A small slip of paper catches in my peripheral vision. Picking it up, I take a closer look. It's the note Edward left on my windshield. Don't forget, I'll see you tonight. Its words seem ironic now. I did forget.

Though, something about the note doesn't seem right. It doesn't even look like Edward's handwriting- With a gasp, I put two and two together.

The note is from Jacob.

The realization comes crashing down on me. All the signs were there.

Jacob planned this whole evening!

I brushed the idea off when it came earlier because I didn't think he would actually do such a thing. But all the points add up. Jacob is a mechanic, he left the note on my windshield, and he stole my cell phone. He fixed my car so it would break down. He stole my phone, so I couldn't call for help and he could 'find' me on the side of the road. That's why his friends were laughing and didn't charge me. They knew he tricked me.

I'm such an idiot.

A/N: Ok y'all, posting this went against my better judgment, but I promised you all a week so I'm delivering. Hope you all love it as much as I do! Guess Jake wasn't lying when he said Bella couldn't avoid him forever!

By the way, I never knew how difficult it was to be in several character's heads at once. It can be quite challenging.

You're reviews are amazing and I'm feeling increasingly humbled with each one. I try to respond to them, but it's not always easy. Please forgive me if I missed you. *Hugs*