Chapter 3 - Creep

Emmett's fingers are long, his palm warm and rough against mine. The night air is especially cool against my skin after he lets go and I press my hand against my thigh, wanting to reach for him again, but knowing I can't.

This is so weird. I feel weird. I know it's not just the alcohol I drank or dealing with Roy or the way things have changed in the past twenty-four hours.

It's that I'm standing here in Edward's front yard with Emmett and he's looking down at me, his eyebrows saying he's concerned and his smiling mouth saying he's laughing at me a little bit. And then he reaches forward. I watch in slow motion, staring at the navy fabric of his v-neck shirt and hold my breath. I see a little bit of chest hair, oh god, and he smells like fresh laundry and spice, like warmth. Then his fingers are in my hair. Mine curl into the hem of my shorts. I don't want to move, don't want to breathe.

"You've got grass in your hair, Rose," he says.

He makes my name sound amazing.

I think I closed my eyes.

Shit, I did. When I open them, he's still staring and now he's really laughing and holding this little blade of grass between his fingers, twirling it lazily.

It's my turn to say something. The art of conversation eludes me with him. "I..."

"You...?" He's so amused.

"I'm drunk."

"No." His eyes widen and even though it's dark, I'm positive every color that exists is in them. I lean toward him instinctively, and his hand is on my skin again, this time on my shoulder, holding me steady. "Why are you out here making grass angels on Cullen's lawn?"

"I was walking home from Mike's party," I reply, leaning further into his touch.

His eyes flash and I see the gold in them. "Wait, what? You were walking home alone?"

I nod-shrug-sway.

Emmett glances down at his watch, presses a button so that it lights up. For some reason, I find this adorable and I have to press my fingers against my numb mouth so he doesn't see my smile. "It's after midnight. Who the hell would just let you leave like that?"

"Let me? Did I need permission?"

I'm indignant, hips and arms akimbo, and I realize somewhere in the back of my mind that I'm not stumbling over my words, mainly just my feet. More importantly, I realize we're having an actual conversation. It feels...easy. Awkward still, because I'm pretty sure I'm staring at his lips and I'm also pretty sure he notices it, but I'm forming words and he is, too. I think this is how it's supposed to go.

"You think it's a good idea to be wandering around in the middle of the night when you're like this?"

I nod-shrug-sway again and look at the ground. I'm not going to admit that I do this a lot. Even when Roy and I were together, he'd only walk me home occasionally. Most of the time he wanted to hang out with the boys and get fucked up. In fact, the only times he really made an effort to walk me home was when he knew my parents wouldn't be there and he wanted to get fucked. Needless to say, I was fine walking alone given the alternative.

But I really don't want to admit that to Emmett.

"Okay, so here's the deal."

I look up quickly and stumble a bit to the left, then blink up at him. The alcohol seems to have numbed my shyness with him, and I blurt, "The deal? We have a deal?"

He smiles, his dimples blossoming on his face. There's something about the way he's looking at me that I think would make me feel drunk even if I wasn't. I know what it is, but have forced myself to ignore it because I was with Roy.

That look scares me more now that I'm single than it did when I was taken. Before, it was a look that represented what I didn't have. Now, it represents something that I could, if I had any idea what to do with it. Or him, for that matter.

He bends his knees, stooping a little so that we're eye-to-eye. God, he's tall. "Why don't you chill out back with us for a bit and sober up? When you're ready, I'll walk you home."

My pulse jumps in my wrists, behind my knees, in my neck. It thumps out a beat: stay, stay, stay. "You don't need to walk me home."

"I want to make sure you're safe." Emmett's hand drifts down my shoulder, past my bicep, his thumb grazing the inside of my elbow and down, down, down until his fingers wrap around my wrist. His thumb stops right above my pulse.

"Why? You don't even really know me."

"I want to," he says, low and serious, but then he's smiling again, sly, and I wonder if I just dreamed those three words up. "My gram raised me right. I'm not going to let a beautiful girl walk home alone in the middle of the night, okay?"

I stare up at him, fully aware that he's still gripping my wrist. He can probably feel how affected I am by what he just said. "Did you just call me beautiful?"

He considers my question. "Are you going to remember any of this in the morning?"

"I don't know." It sounds like Idunknow.

Dear God, I know You and me aren't that tight, but please, please let me remember this in the morning.

Emmett laughs again, this beautiful, deep sound that echoes off the trees and mingles with the soft laughter coming from the backyard. Noticing the noise from the yard for the first time, it occurs to me that I'm not sure what I'm walking into. "Then yeah, I did." One of his eyebrows lifts as he steps back, still holding onto me, checking me out. "Can you walk?"

I snort. "I think I can handle it."

I still let him wrap his arm around my shoulder while we make our way toward the backyard. I'm drunk, not stupid. I'll take any excuse for him to touch me.

"I was singing, by the way," I mention to him because it seems important.

"Singing..."

"Before, when I called you an angel. I was singing. I wasn't actually calling you an angel," I clarify.

"Well now my feelings are hurt."

I stare at the blades of grass, our feet trampling them.

"I was kidding, by the way." He squeezes my shoulder. "And for the record, I'm more of a creep or a weirdo than an angel."

I smile at his acknowledgement of the song, but say nothing. I want to tell him that I don't normally get drunk like this. I want to ask him if he knows how long I've wanted to talk to him. I want to ask him if he's heard that I'm not Roy's girlfriend anymore. I want him to know me, not just see me for the way that I'm presented. Instead I stay quiet, walking and reveling in his touch and how my side is pressed against his.

We round the side of the house with Emmett gently guiding me toward the far back corner of the deck. Edward's parents had a stone fire pit built a few years ago and the weekends usually find him here. Esme and Carlisle are pretty much always home and Edward's more of a homebody than a going out type. This house, this yard, are always warm, always welcoming. Why would he want to go out when he's got such a good thing going here?

"Where'd you park, dude? East Bumblefu..." Edward's voice trails off at the sight of me, nestled into Emmett's side. He tries to play it off, but he raises his eyebrows when he turns to me. "Hey, Ro."

I raise a hand and murmur an uncomfortable hello, although I'm slightly comforted by Edward's use of the shortened version of my name. He's always called me that and it reminds me that even though I'm walking into a new situation, he's familiar.

Everyone is loud in their greeting; it's very boisterous, considering there's only four of them: Edward, Bella, Jasper and Alice. I don't really know the others, but then again, I don't really know know the guy currently propping me up. "Sorry for crashing your party. I just…"

"Ro's going to hang out with us until she sobers up a bit and then I'm going to walk her home," Emmett says firmly. I bite my lip to stop a smile; he makes Ro sound even more amazing. And he really wasn't kidding about the whole Gram raising him right thing, not that I'm complaining. Of course that means he wasn't kidding when he called me beautiful either. I wonder if he'd think so if he learned that I'm sort of empty inside.

"What a good Samaritan you are, Em." Alice tilts her head with a wide, innocent smile. She's beautiful in a delicate, breakable kind of way, but her eyes are bright and alive.

"Got my Boy Scout badge last week, Shorty," Emmett quips easily, darting a glance at me. Alice looks at me, too, and her grin is almost blinding. I don't know if it's my imagination or if the fire is reflecting off her teeth or if I'm just really, really drunk.

"Grab a seat, Rosalie. We don't bite," Jasper says as he leans back in his chair, threading his hands behind his head. Whenever I see him at school, he's wearing a totally random t-shirt. Tonight it's pale blue with a mustache stretched across the chest.

I reluctantly sit on the bench across from them, sad to lose the contact with Emmett and trying not to show it. Pulling my legs up, I wrap my arms around them and attempt a smile at my classmates. The four of them are all smiling at me like they're in on some big secret that I know nothing about.

Covertly - or probably not, since I'm drunk - I watch Emmett as he retreats to a docking station sitting on a cooler near the sliding glass doors. He leans over, allowing me to openly stare at his ass. He has a really nice one that I get to see at every football game. It's one of the only reasons that I actually go to them, although no one knows that. Looking at said ass reminds me that the season will be starting again in the next few weeks. I'm sure he's starting again this year, which will make the games infinitely more bearable.

Emmett takes an iPod out of his pocket and looks over his shoulder, seemingly unsurprised that I'm looking at him. He waves it in the air. It looks a bit beat up; the porch light reflects off the back, highlighting the tiny scratches all over. "I was just getting this from my car when I came across you."

"Oh." Sometimes I really stun myself with my brilliance.

It's quiet except for the pop of the fire. My eyes slip from Emmett crouched in front of the docking station to the flames twisting between me and the rest of the group. I can hear Emmett mumbling to himself as he fiddles with the music. When I finally lift my gaze, the fire stinging my cheeks and eyes, Edward is grinning at me.

"Hanging out at Newt's tonight, huh?"

"How'd you know?" I don't know why I asked that. Where else would I have been stumbling home drunk from?

Bella points straight up in the air and Edward glances sideways at her, the softest of smiles on his face. He always looks at her like that, like he can't believe she's his. "We could hear you guys."

I strain my ears and sure enough, I can hear the low thump of bass and intermittent laughter. It sounds farther away than it really is, like I'm in a different world rather than on a different block. I feel so far removed from Mike's backyard, from Jess and Lauren and especially Roy. It's so weird being here instead, with this group instead of my own, but something about it is decidedly not weird. Almost right. It's calmer, intimate and comfortable in a way no Newt party could ever be.

My gaze goes back to Emmett, who's either solving world hunger or is just really picky about his music. I can only see his profile; his hair flops over a frown and his bottom lip is puffed out in concentration. He looks like boy and man and I feel that pull of attraction again, this time in my stomach.

"Hey, any day, McCarty," Edward calls out, mirroring my thoughts. Well, some of them. I doubt he's waxing poetic on the angle of Emmett's jaw line. I can almost feel it against my fingertips, how rough and soft the skin would probably be, how warm his breath would feel on my wrist. How warm his eyes would be on my face, and then his mouth, hot.

I shift in my seat and cross my legs. I'm letting my thoughts wander into dangerous territory.

Jasper raises his arm, waggling his finger in the air. "Yeah, you just press the arrow button, bud. Works like a charm every time."

"You shutting the fuck up works like a charm every time, Whitlock," Emmett shoots back, but it's good-natured, as is the smile he throws over his shoulder at Jasper. When his eyes meet mine, the corners of his mouth shift into something else.

"Pick something slow, Em," Alice says, already humming something softly.

"If we have to watch you and Jasper slow dance again -" Bella starts with a grimace.

"You mean dry hump," Edward interrupts.

"I think the term you're looking for is fake fuck," Emmett supplies, finally standing and dusting off his hands.

I recognize the first strains of the song as they drift into the still night air, a slow, gritty beat, and Emmett walks back toward me. Holy shit, he's moving in slow motion. The fire lights up his face, casting shadows and making his features even more chiseled, strong.

Please sit next to me, please sit next to me, pleasesitnexttome.

He does, right next to me, and the fire is cold compared to the rush of heat when his knee brushes against mine. He doesn't move away. I stare at the square inch of skin where we're connected, the right corner of my kneecap against the left corner of his. When I glance at him, he's looking at us, too.

His dimples show even when he's smiling soft like that.

I have to look away because my heart is pounding and I feel dizzy and hot and like every part of my body has turned to slow-moving liquid. Like honey. I focus my attention on Alice, staring at the purple stripe in her hair. I'm aware of every shift Emmett makes next to me. This music isn't helping at all.

I want your love, I don't want to be friends.

Alice rests her head on Jasper's shoulder, who looks a little smug. "You people just don't know how to dance."

"You're thinking of a very different kind of dancing, Alice," Bella laughs. Edward has his hand on the back of her neck now, moving his fingers in small circles.

"No, I'm talking about feeling the music, not just shrugging your shoulders and shuffling your feet." She shoots Emmett a pointed look, who snorts, then waves her hand in the air. "Like this song."

"I love this cover," I say without thinking, swaying to the beat. Or maybe I'm swaying to the alcohol. Either way, it makes my shoulder and arm graze Emmett's. The little hairs on his forearm tickle my skin.

Alice's eyes light up again and she stands. "Come on, Rose, dance with me."

"Yes," Jasper breathes, sitting up straight.

"Not like that, Jas." Alice rolls her eyes and smacks him on the chest. "You guys watch too much porn."

"Hey," Emmett exclaims. "Uncool."

There's a surge of courage from somewhere low in my stomach - probably wherever those Jello shots have landed - and I look down at him as I stand, eyebrow arched. "Like it's such a secret that teenage guys watch porn?"

I'm rewarded with an impish grin. "Aw, you caught me, Rose." A pause and then he tilts his head, his eyes drifting downward, just a bit, before finding mine again. "My secrets are more interesting than that anyway."

One side of my mouth pulls up. "Mine, too." They're quiet, those two words just between us.

Alice's tugs my hand and I resist the urge, the pull, for a moment. "I don't know, no one else is dancing."

"Do you always do what everyone is doing?" She's cheeky, knows exactly what to say. Her words and her look hit me, like she knows.

I allow myself to be pulled because it's not a pull - it's a push in the right direction. Away I go - away from the fire, away from him, away from the eyes. We're in the shadow of the trees on the lawn and while I can see them there, I'm pretty sure that they can't make us out as well as we can them. Alice is swaying, her eyes closed. She looks peaceful, if not a bit high, and she spins, in a world of her own.

Don't think, just do.

My eyes slide closed and I'm moving, swaying, my hips leading while my hands find my hair. This version of the song is slow, sultry, and I let it lead me. I dance this way when I'm alone, never around people and certainly not around people I don't know well. Maybe the not knowing is what makes it easier this time. The music shifts to another song. I can hear Ray LaMontagne's voice, low and rugged from the far-off speakers.

"Rose? Where'd you go?" Emmett calls to me and I open my eyes lazily, glancing around to see that I've danced myself further toward the tree line. He's walking toward me slowly and I let my eyes drag along his form. I wonder if he'll touch me again. I wonder if he'll tell me one of his secrets. Or all of them.

He's in front of me now. I feel less drunk than I did twenty minutes ago. "You found me." The words hold more meaning than just him finding a wayward dancer at night. The thump of the drums echo through my ears.

Or maybe it's my heart.

"I grabbed a bottle of water for you." He twists the cap off, holding it while I take a sip.

"And here I thought you were coming out here to dance with me." I smile, almost euphoric that I'm able to get more than three syllables out and make a joke.

He snorts, looking down, shy-like. Me-like. "Nah, you don't want to see me dance."

"Yes, I do. But I'll let you off the hook." My mind and voice are connecting around him and actually making sense. I'm letting him see a little more of who I am; I'm somehow allowing myself to be the tiniest bit more vulnerable.

"Hey, you two making out over there?" Jasper calls back and then there's a thwack, as he's smacked upside the head by Alice, who's walking back to the fire. I hope that it's dark enough that Emmett can't see my face reddening, but then I look at him. There is a slow blush creeping around his neck.

"You still with Roy?" His voice is low, gritty as we start back to the fire pit.

"No." Then I remember that I've agreed to see Roy in the morning and cringe, which he notices.

"Sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure about that." I throw the words back at him. "But I made the mistake of agreeing to meet him in the morning so that I could get away from him at Mike's."

"You agreed to see him again... so that you could get away from him? That doesn't make sense."

I shrug. "Roy and I don't make sense."

He smiles at that, giving me a sidelong glance. "So agreeing to meet him is a mistake, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, I said everything I needed to when I broke up with him last night."

The words are out of my mouth before I can catch them and I look over at Emmett, my eyes widening. He's watching me with this shy boy smile, making my heart feel like butterfly wings against my ribs, light and fast.

"I wondered what was up when Cullen and I drove past your house last night."

"Yeah," I breathe out, pressing my palm against my forehead. My skin feels hot. "Shit, and I just went ahead and confirmed it. You're not supposed to know that."

"Why not?"

He stops, too, close to me, so close that I can see that his eyes are dark, his pupils making them inky like the sky above us. I've been so busy being drunk that I didn't realize he is, too. I can smell a hint of something on his breath, probably Carlisle's bourbon. It's always been Edward's favorite thing to pilfer and Carlisle has enough of a cache that he doesn't notice, or pretends not to. Edward never takes it out of this backyard. He has no reason to.

I remember drinking it once, how the bourbon moved down my throat like liquid fire, like something real and substantial. I loved the way it burned.

My eyes drift back to Emmett. He's waiting for an answer, still doing that half smile thing. He must have some magic, because whenever it's directed at me I feel things in strange ways, things I've never felt before with anyone. It tingles in the backs of my knees, behind my eyelids and at the base of my spine, and sometimes, when his smile is kind of wicked and his dimples are deep, in my thighs and between them.

"He told everyone that he broke up with me so I wouldn't look like a bitch." I roll my eyes and take another sip of water, catching a stray drop with my tongue. I look at him and our eyes meet mine a half second later. Oh god, I think he was staring at my mouth.

"You're not a bitch," he states, like it's a fact. Like he knows this about me.

"I'm pretty sure that's not what ninety percent of the school thinks." Warm relief rushes through my veins at the confirmation that he's not part of the ninety percent.

"Do you give a shit what ninety percent of the school thinks?" he shoots back, eyebrows raised.

I shake my head. "Seriously, though, that's not public knowledge. Don't tell anyone that I broke up with him, okay? I don't want to deal with it."

"Secret's safe," he says with a grin.

We start moving again, but I put my hand on his elbow suddenly. "Wait." He looks down at my hand and then up at me. "You have to tell me one of yours now."

"One of my what?"

"Your secrets."

He looks at me for a long moment. It's quiet. I can't even hear Edward and everyone else by the fire pit, though they've been getting rowdy, murmuring to each other and then bursting into laughter. I know they're watching us, but I don't care. It's just Emmett and me. I feel like we're the only two people in the world.

"I'm glad you broke up with Roy," he says finally, and then starts walking like he didn't just change things. And because I don't know him well enough to push it, I let it slide instead. I hasten my step so that I'm beside him. We walk silently to the bench.

"How are you feeling, Rosalie?" Edward leans back in his chair, Bella resting her head against his chest with her eyes closed. "You can crash here if you need to, you know? I know Mom and Dad would be happy to see you."

"I'm good. I'll probably head out of here in about fifteen." I'm not dizzy anymore. In fact, I'm almost positive I can lie on my back without getting the bed spins. I might get them thinking about what's happened here in Edward's yard, but not from the alcohol.

I'm glad you broke up with Roy.

It replays in my mind, a mantra. I pull my phone from my pocket, intent on putting this coffee thing to an end.

"Hey, what are you doing there?" Emmett asks as I squint down at the screen, scrolling through my recent contacts. Roy's far down, below my parents and Lauren and Jess. If he needs me, he just comes over or texts. Or did.

I have to remember that it's okay to say these things in the past tense.

"I'm going to call Roy and cancel. I don't want to have coffee with him. I hate coffee."

"Call him? Do you think that's the best idea?"

Maybe I'm not sobering up as much as I thought, or maybe he's not as drunk. He's making much more sense than I am.

"No?" I'm not convinced.

"Hand me the phone, Hale."

He's sitting there, beckoning for my phone with an open palm and quick flicks of his fingers. I give him the "you're crazy" look, because this is my phone we're talking about here and it's an extension of me. He's cute and all and does funny things to my insides but seriously, this is my phone.

He tries again, this time adding a little puppy-dog face while pointing to the phone. "Come on. Friends don't let friends drunk dial."

I pretend to acquiesce, slowly handing over my phone until it's thisclose to his hand and then pull it back behind my head. The grin I get from that little maneuver encourages me to repeat it once more before he finally reaches across me, pressing his hand on my leg while muttering, "Gimme that." For a moment his face is close to mine and all I can see is light.

He snatches the phone away, pocketing it. My mind is focused on his eyes, stuck on his words. It seems to do that a lot. I'll probably constantly be thinking about all the things he's said tonight. I wonder if we'll talk at school on Monday or if this is a one-time deal.

I really hope not, but I don't see how we could just slide into some easy breezy buddy-buddy friendship. Even with Edward as a common factor, it would seem sudden and random.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jasper snickers in the background, muttering about hard things, and Alice does the shhhh, baby thing.

Even still, I can't help but ask. "So, we're friends?"

His expression is indiscernible as he appraises me. The other four have gotten quiet, waiting for answer. He pushes forward a grin and I can tell he's thinking something different than what he says. "Hell yeah, we're friends. I practically braided your hair when I took the grass out."

The conversation picks up again and continues around me. I'm comfortable, chiming in here and there, but mostly I just listen, which they seem content to let me do. It's such a different atmosphere from Jess and Lauren, who pretty much constantly demand my full attention and participation during conversations. Sometimes being around them is exhausting. I don't feel that here at all.

My and Emmett's legs are touching again and I'm hyper-aware of that fact. I keep glancing down, wondering what it would be like to have more of us touching. It's definitely not the first time that I've wondered about it. Subtly, I look at the watch on his arm, try to make out the numbers without having to ask him. After what might be the fiftieth time, he realizes what I'm doing and glances at his watch.

"It's almost one-thirty." I nod and he quirks an eyebrow. "You could have just asked, Ro. You can ask me anything."

"Oh, it's that easy?" I ask, leaning back to look him up and down.

He grins and stands, holding out his hand. I'm starting to recognize all of his different smiles. This one, coupled with his outstretched hand, reads like an invitation. Or maybe a promise. "It can be."

I take his hand, let him pull me up. We're close, the toes of my sandals touching the toes of his sneakers, black beat-up Chucks that are coming apart at the seams in one place. They're huge. Everything about him is - the sheer height of him, the broad span of his shoulders, that smile and his hand over mine, the feelings that he stirs up inside of me. He could engulf me without even trying, completely surround and consume me.

What would that feel like? Whatever the feeling, I don't think I'd mind it one bit, not if Emmett was the cause.

"I'll remember that," I say, one side of my mouth pulling up. He mimics me, the light of the fire dancing in his eyes.

God, this is so obvious, isn't it? Me and him? I can't look away. I wonder why everyone isn't up our asses, or at least Emmett's. If I were acting this way in front of Jess or Lauren, they'd have me trapped in a bathroom somewhere in less than five seconds, wanting to dissect the angle of his head tilt or the way he didn't let go of my hand for an additional 3.2 seconds.

Actually, they'd probably be wondering what the hell I'm doing with Emmett McCarty, looking at him the way I know I'm looking at him when I'm supposed to still be mourning my break-up with Roy.

"Hey, Swan Song," Emmett calls over his shoulder. His eyes are locked on me.

"She's asleep, dill hole," Edward replies lazily.

"No, I'm not." Bella's voice is clear and strong.

Emmett turns fully, his back to me. The nape of his neck is flushed pink. "Want to walk Rose home with me?"

I stare at his back, at the way his muscles move underneath his t-shirt when he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Does he not want to walk alone with me? Is that a good or bad thing? Would I have wanted him to walk me home alone?

It's safer this way, I guess. God knows what I'd do with the darkness on my side. I already feel braver than I ever have with him. Maybe it's good to have a chaperone.

"Sure thing." Bella stands and stretches, smacking Edward's hand away playfully when he grabs onto the belt loop of her jeans. He throws Emmett a glare.

"Why are you stealing my woman, McCarty?"

"'Cause it's that easy, Cullen." Emmett glances back at me over his shoulder with a smile. "And Bella's the only one here who isn't drunk. I don't trust myself to get back here on my own."

"Are you that drunk, Em?" Alice speaks up. She's curled up like a cat on Jasper's lap with her eyes closed, running her hands slowly through his hair.

Emmett shrugs and Jasper squints over at him. "It's impossible to tell with McCarty."

Edward snorts, watching Bella pull on a hoodie that must be his because she's swimming in it. "Yeah, until we're fishing him out of the Tanners' koi pond next door."

"Dude, that happened once," Emmett replies and his cheeks are pink now, too. He's grinning back at me, though, and shrugging again.

Apparently staying in Edward's backyard doesn't stop them from engaging in shenanigans.

"You ready to go?" he asks.

I don't really want to, but it's late and I'm pushing it, so I nod and watch as he slides his arms into his hoodie. If I'm not a ninja sneaking back in the house, my parents are going to kill me. They trust me to obey curfew (one if I'm staying in the neighborhood, midnight anywhere else), so they never wait up for me.

I'm not exactly sure how to say goodbye to the remainder of the group so I raise my hand, much in the same way I said hello just an hour before, although it's much less awkward this time. So much has changed from then to now. It's kind of amazing that such a short amount of time has made such an impact.

Edward stands and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug as Alice unfolds herself from Jasper's lap. "See you at school on Monday, Rosalie," she whispers in my ear, giving me a tight squeeze.

Jasper stays put, raising his hand over his head. "Later, Ro."

Flanked by Bella and Emmett, we make our way back to the front of Edward's house, heading in the direction of mine. It's not far but I'm dragging my feet, not wanting the night to end, but knowing that it has to. Something has changed here and while I don't know exactly what it is or what it will mean, I don't want to lose it in the light of the morning.

I shiver, wrapping my bare arms around my body. I see Bella giving Emmett a pointed look behind my head.

"Oh!" He shrugs out of the hoodie and drapes it across my shoulders. "Shit, sorry, here. You're cold."

I think about arguing for a moment, just because it will give me something more to say but instead I say "thank you," as I slide my arms through the sleeves. They're long, too long for me, but perfect just the same.

There's a beat of silence and then Bella speaks up. Her hands are burrowed into the front of Edward's hoodie and she has the hood on, from when he pulled it up. "So hey, Rosalie, my birthday party's coming up next weekend. Em and Jasper have their first game on Friday night so we're going to meet back at Edward's after the game. Hang out, celebrate. Very low-key. I don't know if you're busy but..." Her hands move in her pockets, like she'd be waving them around if they were in the air. "You know... you're like, welcome to join us. More than welcome."

It's an opportunity to return to the feeling this night have given me; I'm sure that my grin is ridiculous as I smile and nod. "Yeah. Yes. Definitely. That would be... that would be really nice." I sneak a glance at Emmett. He's wearing a matching goofy smile.

"Will you be at the game?" He asks, kicking at a small tuft of grass growing up through the sidewalk.

"Yes. Usually I go to Mike's after the games, so I might have to make an appearance there for a little bit... oh, crap. It's his birthday thingy that night too-"

"Oh, then you don't have to-" Bella's cuts me off, blushing. Emmett frowns at her, shaking his head.

I hold my hand up, cutting her off. "No Bella, I want to." It feels good to say, because it's true. For the first time in a while, I'll be doing what I want to, and not just what's expected of me. "I'll spend an hour or so there and then I can walk over to Edward's. Thanks for including for me."

And that's that.

Without thinking, I slide my hands into the pockets of Emmett's sweatshirt, only to find his cell phone. "Oh! I need my phone back. Or... I can hold yours as collateral." I wave it in the air teasingly.

"Hey, that's fine," Emmett says. He pulls my phone out of his pocket and tosses it casually from one hand to the other. "I need some new reading material anyway."

"What, Penthouse isn't going to cut it tonight?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, the sarcastic, dry type of teasing that I'm used to with the boys I'm used to. It's quiet for a second and then Bella is laughing, a husky sound that drifts up to the tops of the trees surrounding us. I see her clutch Emmett's arm in my peripheral, holding herself up.

When I can finally make eye contact with Emmett, he's looking between me and my phone with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. If there's anything I've learned about him in the years I've barely known him and especially in the past hour, it's that sarcasm only fuels his fire. He thinks he's found a willing partner in me.

He's not wrong, even though my face is a little hot. He has this way of making me feel too comfortable, like I can say or do anything. It's dangerous and exhilarating, a loss of control I think I like. I'm not used to that, not being in control all the time. Maybe the alcohol has made me more malleable, more willing to bend the rules I set out for myself so long ago.

"Is there Penthouse-worthy stuff in here?" Emmett asks as he lights up the screen. "Are you, Jess and Lauren sexting late at night?"

His mention of my best friends, who are still at Mike's and probably giggling and wasted, brings me back down to earth a bit. I've been orbiting in another universe, but this makes me remember my lot in life. At the end of the day (or night in this case), I'm still Posie, even if I'm different with them and especially with him.

"Oh, just give it to me," I huff, snatching the phone back. He laughs again, this delighted little giggle, and I roll my eyes at Bella. She just shakes her head, a soft grin on her face as she looks between us.

Suddenly, his fingers are wrapped around my hand. I glance down at our fingers, tangled together, watching without breathing as he gently pries his phone out of my grasp. My pinkie finger catches his when he pulls away and I curl it around his knuckle, squeezing lightly before letting go.

Emmett looks down at me, sideways with his chin kind of brushing his shoulder, and the way his eyes linger on me even as we keep walking makes all of my fingers curl into my palm.

My house looms in front of us, completely dark. I can hear the silence from out here. I'll have to remember not to breathe when I go up the stairs, past my parents' bedroom. I don't think that'll be a problem; Emmett seems to have taken it all anyway.

Bella and Emmett stop at the end of the driveway, like they can't go any further, or don't want to. Emmett's gaze slips over my shoulder, taking everything in - the vastness of the mansion behind me, a cookie-cutter version of one down the street with minor modifications to make it seem like it's somewhat unique; my BMW sitting in the driveway because my parents' collection of cars takes up all three spots in the garage; the manicured lawn, pristine with every blade cut just so.

I wouldn't want to go any further either.

"Thanks for walking me home," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. There's a cacophony of crickets, probably chilling in my mom's rose bushes that line the driveway, but other than that there's not a sound.

"Well, someone's gotta take care of your drunk ass, Hale," Emmett replies, his hands going back to his pockets.

Bella lets out a completely fake sneeze, rubbing at her nose. "I'm going to go stand over, uh, there," she says, waving her arm vaguely behind her. "I think the rose bushes are messing with my sinuses."

Emmett watches her walk away quickly, then turns back to me sheepishly. "Damn, that Swan and her allergies. She's always sneezing, you know. Like, hay fever or something."

"Uh huh," I say.

He coughs, scratches at his neck and then glances sideways at me. "So, you're going to hang with us on Friday, then?" He can go from smirky, sexy man to this aw shucks boy in approximately two seconds flat. I half expect him to shuffle his foot along the ground. For some reason, the boy in him gives me courage.

"Is that okay with you?"

He grins, flirty and still kind of shy, and the combination sends tingles all the way up my legs, on the insides - ankles, knees, thighs. "What would you say if I said I wasn't?"

"I'd say you're a liar."

He laughs loudly, but then quickly smothers it his hand, his eyes going up to the second floor. My parents sleep like the dead; I'm more concerned about Eric hearing us down here and waking them up with his ear-shattering monster bark.

"Okay, well..." And then I do the stupidest thing I think I've ever done in my life, putting Sun-In in my hair notwithstanding: I hold out my hand. I hold out my hand for Emmett to shake.

Oh, god, well, I can't take it back, so I wiggle my fingers impatiently. Emmett stares down at it, this little weird grin on his face. I've never seen this particular version. I don't know what to call it.

He slips his hand into mine so that we're palm to palm. His fingers are so long that they sweep over the inside of my wrist - I never realized how sensitive that skin was until just now - before wrapping around my hand and pulling me a little closer. His eyes are dark, almost serious, and I swallow.

"See you Monday," I murmur. I've never heard my voice like this, low and a little deep.

One corner of his mouth goes up - hello, dimple - and then he releases me, both in hold and gaze. "Yeah, see you." It implies something I can't quite figure out.

He heads toward Bella, looking back over his shoulder twice as he does. I wave and back up the driveway, not turning until they do. Bella punches his bicep and her voice carries in the still night air, although I can't make out what she says. Whatever it is makes Emmett laugh and sling his arm around her shoulders.

I make it up to my bedroom, tiptoeing past my parents' room where my dad's snores rattle the walls. I slip into pajamas, wash my face and brush my teeth, and then stare at myself in the mirror. I don't look different, but something's shifted in me tonight. I wish I could see it in addition to feeling it.

I don't know what this means or what will happen on Monday. I don't know if Emmett and I will talk, and if we do, I don't know what my friends will say. I know I'm still Posie, but I'm starting to feel like someone else, too, more like the girl who loves taking pictures when no one's looking, who could spend hours in the darkroom at school, watching faces and places and moments come to life again, one second caught forever. Tonight with Emmett, it didn't feel like I was playing a role.

What I do know is that, when I climb into bed with Emmett's hoodie zipped up to my chin, I can smell him.

It's spicy and earthy, clean - the grass he picked from my hair, the fire and smoke we sat near tonight - and also things I haven't discovered yet. Laundry, soap, a hint of cologne. I fall asleep with my nose buried in it, drifting happily off into blackness.

First off, we're dedicating this chapter to AccioBourbon because she's told us that this is one of her faves AND hi, there is bourbon involved in this chapter. And she's hot and fiery, real and substantial. We love you, J.

Other people we love: H for her fierce and fab red pen work, Jugs, JD and Bec for their discerning eye and sweet, sweet comments.

Secondly, we've been referencing lots of music throughout. Can you tell we're very musically inspired? If you're curious:

Radiohead - Creep (you'll be seeing it a lot), Fake Plastic Trees - and we love the covers too. Scala & Kolacny Brothers version of Creep - gahhhh. And have you heard the Vitamin String Quartet's Strung Out on OK Computer? So good.
30 Seconds to Mars - Bad Romance (cover of Lady Gaga and damn, does that boy know how to sound like pure sex.)
Ray LaMontagne - I don't think we actually referenced a song but everything by him is good. Trust.

Thanks to everyone for all of your support and love! The reviews are epic and the tweets make us smile so big. It's very much appreciated!