Author's Note:

My betas, Jennrosee and blahblahblah, have taught me more grammar and punctuation than all my high school & college English courses!

Disclaimer:

S. Meyers owns it. I'm just having fun.

BPOV

He kissed me.

He kissed me.

He kissed ME!

I walk into my room, close the door softly, and lean back against it. I wait, listening for his door to shut before I sprint across my room and leap onto my bed. I bury my face in my pillow and squeal into it like a teenage fan-girl who just met her heartthrob.

I cannot believe that just happened. It was, by far, the most erotic moment of my life. And damn Emmett for ruining it. Had he not burst in, I probably wouldn't be going to bed alone right now. Remind me to kill him later.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. The giddy smile plastered across my lips feels like it might break my face in half.

Dang, he's a good kisser. A girl could get used to that. And oh my God, when he took his shirt off, and I finally got to run my hands over his chest – wham, bam, thank you ma'am.

I start to giggle at my silly thoughts. I roll off the bed and stumble to my dresser in search of some comfortable clothes. I trip over my own feet and grasp the edge of the dresser before I fall on my face.

Way too many margaritas tonight, Isabella.

I shimmy out of my dress and pull on – something – I'm too tipsy right now to even care, and I crawl back into bed. I don't think I even pull the blankets over my shoulders before I'm asleep.

My inebriated mind dreams of kissing Edward, picking right back up where we left off in the kitchen tonight. But instead of an innocent good-night kiss at my doorway, I pull Edward into my room with me.

My dream is so vivid that for a moment I'm surprised when I wake up in my bed alone. But now its morning - technically early afternoon - and the reality of what happened last night is setting in.

What did it mean? Obviously, he was drunk; we both were. But I knew what I was doing. I'd been wanting it, wanting him, for so long there was no doubt in my mind. But what if it didn't mean the same to him? Or what if he regrets it? Oh God! What if he doesn't even remember? I don't know what could be worse.

I lie in my bed and worry about what to do for a solid hour. I don't know how to act when I see him. Are things going to be awkward between us now? Should I say something about last night, or let him bring it up first? What would I say, anyway?

Hey, Edward, last night was hot. Let's do it again. Oh and next time, do you think we could get past first base? Nice. Real lady-like there, Bella. That will surely win him over.

I groan and drag my aching body from the bed. I glance at the clock and discover it's already past noon. My head is pounding, and I wonder if it has more to do with stressing about Edward than drinking too much the night before. When I'm unable to decide which offense is more to blame, I conclude that the combination of the two must be toxic.

I have no doubt where to place the blame for the throbbing in my feet, however. Damn those heels. Wait, where are those shoes?

I creep across the hall to the bathroom and notice Edward's door is still shut. Inside the bathroom, I find an open bottle of aspirin and a used water glass on the counter, a clear sign that Edward must be feeling just as fabulous as I am this morning.

I start to wonder if maybe he was worse off than I was last thought doesn't help squelch my fears that he's going to think the whole thing was a mistake.

I help myself to two aspirin before I climb into the shower, and wash all the smoke and grime from the club out of my hair. I decide against blow-drying my wet hair - way too loud - and wrap it up in a towel instead.

Back inside my room, I pull on some soft yoga pants and a t-shirt before I head to the kitchen to find something to eat. I settle on a few plain crackers and a can of Diet Sprite, hoping the combination will calm my queasy stomach.

I loiter around the kitchen, eager for Edward to come down and join me for breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal this is. As I pace around the room I nearly trip over a pair of shoes someone left in the middle of the floor. Chuckling to myself, I scoop up my missing heels and hug them to my chest, remembering the moment last night when I stalked across the room to stand next to Edward.

I retrace my path and stop in the exact same spot, leaning against the counter where I had been sitting the night before. For a brief moment, I let the entire night replay in my mind. Well, the parts that aren't fuzzy or hazy from too much alcohol.

Realizing how ridiculous I must look standing here, hugging a pair of shoes and daydreaming about a hot make out session. I run back upstairs to my room before anyone, specifically Edward, catches me.

I spend the next few hours in my room working on school work, cleaning, returning emails, and calling my mom and Charlie, all while listening for any signs of life from the room down the hall. Just as I finish stripping the dirty sheets off my bed, Jacob calls. He's fighting a killer hangover too and won't be coming to rehearse today like we originally planned. Fine with me.

I take my dirty clothes and bed sheets to the laundry room and start a load in the washing machine. I find some of Emmett's clothes in the dryer, fold them, and leave his basket at the top of the staircase that leads down to his room. From what I can tell, he doesn't appear to be home. I make myself a small, one-egg omelet for dinner and eat alone at the table.

After I clean up the kitchen, I decide to spend some time in my studio. I still feel a little run-down, so I work on some quiet barre routines, simple stretches, and lyrical choreography. I need a break from the audition routine anyway.

The audition is this Wednesday, and if I get the job, the video shoot will take place the following Saturday. That gives me about three days to nail down the routine before the audition and three more days after that to prefect any changes if I'm selected for the video.

Jake is picking up my audition costume from the producers tomorrow so we can do a full dress rehearsal. From what Jake describes of the outfit, it seems like there isn't much to it, and I hope all the running and dancing pays off. His exact comment is that it "doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Great.

I crawl into bed early that night without hearing a peep from Edward's room all day. I lie in the dark, unable to sleep as my mind races. Every thought compounds my fears from this morning. Now, I'm certain that he regrets what happened. Why else would he lock himself away in his room all day if not to avoid me?

I feel so stupid. How could anyone as devastatingly beautiful as Edward Cullen even be remotely interested in someone like me? He could have any girl he wants, and he probably does. And I go and throw myself at him. He must think I'm pathetic.

I lie awake for hours worrying about what Edward must think of me, if he even thinks of me at all, before I finally fall into a restless sleep.

EPOV

I wake up Saturday morning with a pounding headache. Stumbling to the bathroom, I find the aspirin, and swallow three pills with a full glass of water. I leave the bottle on the counter, in case Bella needs some, and return to my room. I notice Bella's bedroom door is still closed, but I'm not surprised. It is still relatively early compared to how late we stayed up last night.

I crash back into my bed and sleep well into the afternoon. The only reason I finally drag myself out of bed is to use the bathroom and take more aspirin. I don't want to eat anything, and I really need to take a shower, but I don't feel like doing that either.

I just want to see her.

I pull on a pair of gray pajama pants and the same t-shirt from last night and wander down the hall to her room. There's no doubt what happened last night will change our relationship.

Relationship. I smile, realizing for the first time how much I'm looking forward to where we can go from here.

Maybe we can have dinner together? Maybe watch a movie? I smirk. Maybe I could kiss her again?

I arrive at her door and notice it's open a crack. I raise my hand, about to gently knock, when I hear her speak from inside.

"No, of course. I totally understand," I hear Bella say, her gravely serious tone causes me to pause. "I don't think you should come over tonight either, Jake."

I freeze. It sounds as if they're having a fight. Did she tell him what happened last night?

"No, no I... I don't know, I hope so." Her voice sounds regretful now, and I take an unconscious step closer to her door.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Yeah, you're right, I'm just -" Bella lets out a deep breath. "I'm nervous about it. I've just never done anything like this before." She sounds more upset now, and I fight the urge to push open her door and make sure she's OK.

She's quiet for awhile and then she suddenly laughs loudly. "No, no way, Jacob, no. JACOB BLACK, you stop that right now!"

She's laughing even harder. "Alright, alright."

I stand outside her door and continue to eavesdrop on the rest of her conversation. Bella doesn't say much, only a few "yeahs" and "OKs" every now and then, but her mood seems to improve the more she listens to whatever Jacob is telling her. After several minutes, they begin to wrap up their call.

"I'll see you tomorrow, OK? OK, yes. Thank you, Jake. Yes, I miss you, too. OK. Bye, Jake."

I back away from her door slowly and return to my room, completely confused by the conversation I just overheard. She could have been talking about me, about us, but I can't be sure. I assumed what happened last night would put an end to her and Jacob, but clearly by the end of their discussion they weren't fighting or breaking up.

They even made plans to see each other tomorrow.

She said she misses him.

I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, allowing last night's events to replay to replay in my mind. Obviously, we were both drunk, but I wasn't that far gone. I knew what I was doing the entire time. I mean, I wanted something to happen. I had wanted something to happen since that first night after dinner, but maybe last night was too fast for her. Maybe she regrets it even happened.

I lie there and worry about what to do, what is going to happen next, but before I can reach any conclusion, I fall asleep again.

I don't sleep well. I toss and turn all night, my unconscious mind trying to work out everything that has happened. My dreams are vivid – Bella dressed all in white and walking at a slow pace, her arm laced through an older man's. It was odd, the pain that image caused me. I couldn't understand it. I never thought of marriage before. Hell, I was only eighteen! But the fact that I couldn't see if it was me she was walking toward caused my heart to ache in my chest.

I wake up early Sunday morning still conflicted about what I should do. I don't understand why she asked me to kiss her in the first place if she is with him. Did she intend to string us both along? Bella doesn't seem like the type of girl who would cheat on her boyfriend, but if she is I refuse to be "the other guy."

The bottom line - I need to talk to her. She has to choose - me or him. And if I'm not the one she picks, then I will let her go.

That thought causes me to sigh aloud. The idea of losing her before I even have a chance to really know her causes my stomach to wrench. But no matter how badly I want her to pick me, ultimately I just want her to be happy. I have to hold on to that thought – Bella's happiness is all that matters – not the selfish desire to make her mine.

I throw on a clean shirt and head downstairs in search of food. I haven't eaten since Friday afternoon and now, a day and a half later, my stomach is loudly protesting. I make my way quietly down the stairs, so lost in thought I don't notice the two people sitting at the dining room table until my feet hit the cold, hardwood floor.

Bella is seated at the head of the table, facing in my direction, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jacob is seated in the chair next to her, his back to me, holding her tiny hand in his giant paw. He speaks softly to her while she cries, obviously trying to console her. Whatever he's saying to her seems to be working. She nods and shyly smiles, though the expression doesn't reach her eyes.

She looks so fragile, so broken. I instinctively want to rush to her side and comfort her, to protect her from whatever is hurting her so deeply. But my feet won't move from where they are planted on the floor. I'm frozen, my eyes fixed on her.

Bella sees me at that moment. Quickly, she pulls her hands from Jacob's grasp and begins frantically wiping away her tears, desperately trying to hide that she's crying. Her sudden action signifies to Jacob that they are no longer alone, and he turns slowly in his seat to face me.

He throws one arm over the back of the chair and appraises me from head to toe, a sharp scowl on his face. He looks back at Bella quickly and then turns to me again.

"So this is him, huh?" he asks, and jerks his head sharply in my direction.

It all starts to come together: their hushed conversation, Bella crying, his protective stance – they had been talking about me. Bella must have finally told him about our kiss.

Jacob rises from his seat and slowly begins stalking over to me. I wait, wondering what his next move will be.

Is he gonna hit me? I would hit me if the roles were reversed.

I quickly access the situation. Now that Jacob is standing, I can tell that he's just as tall as I am but clearly more physically powerful. I don't stand a chance at defending myself if he decides to fight for her. Jacob stops a few feet in front of me and once again evaluates me from head to foot, likely drawing the same conclusion.

He looks back at Bella. "I see what you mean," he says flatly.

He turns back to face me again. "Hi there," he says in a friendly tone. "Aren't you the handsome one?"

I flinch slightly and feel my brow furrow in confusion. What kind of twisted mind game is he playing? Is this his way of threatening to mess up my face or something? I'm certain he's just fucking with me, so I stand my ground and stare at him, waiting for his fists to begin swinging at any second.

Bella stands up and walks toward us. The last thing I need is for her to be so close when the fists finally do start to fly. She could get seriously hurt if she tries to come between us. I'm about to warn her to stay back when she brushes past Jacob, gently patting him twice on the shoulder.

"Down, boy. He doesn't bat for your team," she says as she walks past us and heads for the kitchen.

"Well, maybe not yet," Jacob says, winking at me.

Wait. What the fuck did he just say?

Jacob shifts his weight to lean on one foot. He places one hand on his hip and raises the other to rub the back of his neck. His eyes trail down my chest and back up to my face again. He raises his eyebrows at me with a mischievous look.

I must still be asleep. This whole fucked up situation isn't really happening. Or my brain is not processing what I'm hearing correctly. No, no, I have to be asleep.

Jacob cocks his head to one side, and his expression changes to one of confusion. "He doesn't talk much, does he?"

"No. Not really," Bella chuckles.

They're having this conversation about me like I'm not even here. Hell, I'm not even positive I am here! Nothing is making any sense: handsome one, bat for your team, did he seriously wink at me?

"Hm… well, that's OK with me. I like the strong, silent type."

"JACOB BLACK! I heard that!" Bella yells from the kitchen. "Don't make me call Sam!"

Jacob rolls his eyes, turns on his heel and heads toward her. "Hey, I might be in a committed relationship, but I'm not dead. Look but don't touch and all that, right?"

The look Bella gives Jacob clearly says she's not buying it.

"OK, OK! Geez, I'll behave," he amends, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Jacob enters the kitchen, and Bella hands him a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee.

"Thanks, babe," he says. "OK, I'm leaving but I'll be back in about an hour. Then we'll get to work, OK?"

"Alright," Bella concedes. Her voice still sounds defeated.

Jacob leans in and wraps one arm around her neck. She encircles her arms around his waist. He pulls her close and whispers something in her ear. For a moment she looks sad again. Obviously, whatever he is saying reminds her of their earlier conversation.

Jacob pulls back and looks at her face. She composes herself, nods and smiles as he plants a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Love ya, babe," he says softly. He turns and heads for the front door.

"Bye, Edward," he sings over his shoulder. He turns to look at me and his eyes rake from my face to my feet once more before he shakes his head. "What a waste," he mumbles.

"JACOB!" Bella scolds.

"I'm going! I'm going!" The front door slams behind him.

What the HELL just happened?

In a span of five minutes, my entire world has been flipped upside down. I stumble backward to the staircase and sink onto the bottom step. I rest my elbows on my knees and hold my head in my hands. Both hands instantly tug at my hair.

"Edward, are you OK?" Bella asks.

I don't answer. My mind is reeling, replaying every conversation, every interaction, looking for any signs I missed that make this make sense.

I feel Bella move to sit beside me on the step. "Edward?" she asks again, her voice concerned. She gently lays a hand on my shoulder.

I let out a humorless chuckle and drop my hands, intertwining my fingers in front of me. I can't look at her. Instead, I stare at the floor between my feet.

"That was Jacob," I say flatly. It sounds more like an accusation than a statement.

"Yes." She answers, puzzled.

I laugh again and shake my head. "And Jacob is… gay?"

"Yes," she answers again, like it's the most obvious fact in the world. "Is that a problem?" she adds curtly, dropping her hand from my shoulder.

"No, no. Of course not. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that -"

I take a deep breath. I realize this is my opportunity, my chance to really explain my past behavior, to justify why I avoided her, and tell her how I feel.

I turn my head toward her and study her face. Her eyes are red from crying, but the sadness from before has been replaced with a mixture of confusion and worry.

There's no turning back now.

"Bella, I thought you and Jacob were… together."

She still looks confused, likely wondering why that fact would have me so disheveled. "Um, no. Jacob is with Sam, his partner for the last three years."

"Yes, but, you are spending so much time together, and then I saw you with him at the club that night, and then he took you out on that date, and – "

"He's my dance partner!" Bella blurts out, thankfully interrupting my rambling. "Of course we're going to spend a lot of time together. He's helping me train for my audition. And that date, we went to Ramrod, you know, the gay bar downtown. I spent the night salsa dancing with Sam, Paul and Seth."

I just shake my head and look down at the floor again. I'm such an idiot.

"So you thought…" Bella continues, obviously trying to piece together my strange confession. "That Jake was my boyfriend?"

I nod.

She is silent for a minute, likely processing what she wants to ask next. "And… and is that why… I mean, since you thought… is that why you… avoided me?"

Again, I could only nod. I know I need to say something, explain this better, but the sudden onslaught of information has me reeling. I'm not too late. She doesn't have someone else. I can still fix this. We can be together, that is, if she wants me. Then I remember -

"Bella, why were you crying?" I ask softly, glancing back at her.

Her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink and she twists her body away from me, looking down at the floor. She is quiet for so long that I don't think she's going to answer my question.

I realize by her silence that my assumption before was way off the mark. She wasn't crying to Jacob because she cheated on him; she was confiding in him. And she was upset. I realize, with a searing pain in my chest, that she must regret what happened.

"After we kissed," she begins quietly, and I steel myself for what she's about to say, "and I didn't see you at all yesterday… I guess my imagination got the best of me."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

Bella takes a deep breath. "I just thought, maybe, it didn't mean as much to you as it did to me."

I struggle to find words to name the feelings that flood through me: shock, relief, surprise, excitement, but nothing seems to fit. She feels something for me too. I fight the smile that threatens to break across my face.

"Bella," I begin cautiously. "Do you believe that you care for me more than I do for you?"

Her head whips up and she stares at me. A mixture of surprise and disbelief flash in her eyes. She opens her mouth, as if to say something, but closes it again.

"Bella," I continue, "Do you remember the night we had dinner in the city with Carlisle and Esme?"

She nods.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly that night but I - but I didn't. I convinced myself that it would be best if we didn't spend too much time together. That's when I started to keep my distance from you. But then I saw how my actions hurt you and it - it killed me. But I didn't know how to fix it, how to undo the damage I had done. So I waited. I was looking for the right moment to, I don't know, talk to you, apologize, but it never came. Then I saw you and Jacob together and I - I thought I was too late."

Nervously, I look up at Bella, fearing her reaction to my confession. She is still staring wide-eyed at me. I can't help myself; I reach up and cradle her delicate face in my hand, brushing her cheek with my thumb. She closes her eyes and her hand comes up to circle my wrist, effectively holding my arm in place. For a moment, I'm afraid she is going to push me away, but when she opens her eyes again, a small smile plays at her lips. That is all the encouragement I need to keep going.

"When I said that I wished I could go back and do it all over again, I meant it. It's all I've thought about the past two weeks. I would start with that night at the restaurant. I would have kissed you. I would have done so many things differently. I'm such an idiot for not fixing this the minute I realized I was wrong. I'm so very sorry."

Bella let out a humorless chuckle, "I can't believe you thought… Jake and I…" She shakes her head. "I guess I can see it though. We do spend a lot of time together, and we are pretty close."

"When I saw you with him at the club that night I – "

"Yeah!" Bella interrupts. "Who was that girl, anyway?"

I laugh at her outburst. "Were you jealous?" I tease.

Bella jerks back, and she pretends to be insulted by my question. At least, I hope she's pretending. "No, I don't care. You can dance with whomever you want."

I laugh again and gently grab Bella's face in both my hands, forcing her to look in my eyes, "Silly girl, the only one I wanted to dance with was you." I watch as she smiles softly at my words.

"You know, I chased after you that night." My confessions seem to be coming easier now.

She looks surprised. "You did?"

"I watched you drive off on Jacob's bike."

"No, I didn't know that. What would you have done if you caught up with me?"

I never really thought about that before. What would I have said to her that night? What would I have done?

I smirk. "This," I say as I press my lips to hers, kissing her innocently.

When I finally pull away several minutes later, I rest my forehead against hers, my eyes still closed. "That should have been our first kiss," I whisper, and kiss her again.

And again.

"Maybe it's a good thing you didn't catch up to me," Bella mutters between my kisses. "If you had just walked up and planted that on me, Jake would have decked you first and made introductions later." We both snicker.

Bella lets out a contented sigh and drops her head on my shoulder, snuggling into my neck. I hold her body in my arms and hug her close to me, reveling in the fact I finally have her in my arms. I lightly comb my fingers through her hair, and Bella toys with the collar of my t-shirt.

"This is so… surreal," she says softly.

I snicker. "You're telling me. Up until thirty minutes ago, I thought you were just using me to cheat on your boyfriend. I was ready to make you choose."

Bella pulls away and sits up, looking straight into my eyes. "I choose you," she says tenderly, studying my face for a moment.

"Not that there is really a choice to be made between you and Jake, but… well, what I mean is… I know we don't know each other that well, but I… I want to."

I open my mouth to speak, but Bella keeps going.

"And I thought we were starting to. But then when you went… I don't know, is away the right word?"

I shrug. "It works."

"When you went away, I… I missed you. I tried to not let it bother me, but it did. I just wanted you back. Even the few times I saw you, it wasn't really you. It was like you were locked away, trapped inside yourself. Does that make sense?"

I nod. No one has ever confronted me on my reclusive behavior before. I start to wonder if this girl has me completely figured out.

"I'm just so glad to have you back." Then she snickers. "Can you just warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good?"

"Sounds fair," I agree, and pull her face to mine, kissing her once more.

"And just so you know," she adds, abruptly pulling away from me again. "I'm not the kind of girl who cheats."

I nod. "I'm sorry. I should have never implied you are some kind of sl-" Bella gives me a warning look. "Um… that kind of girl."

"Right, I'm not, but you are going to have to share me with Jake."

"I can live with that." I smile.

Bella resumes her position from before, snuggling into my neck, my arms holding her to my chest. She is right; this entire morning has been unreal, and the outcome is better than anything I would have thought possible. The revelation that she cares for me too is extraordinary.

After a moment, Bella presses her lips against my neck once before she pulls away, disentangling herself from my grasp, and stands up.

"Come on," she says with a smile. "We need pancakes."

"Pancakes, huh?" I take her hand and let her pull me upright.

We walk hand in hand to the kitchen, unable to wipe the goofy grins off our faces. I reluctantly release her when it becomes apparent we won't able to cook joined together like this.

I know nothing about making pancakes from scratch, so Bella directs me to fetch the ingredients as she needs them. Between requests for milk, eggs, and flour, we ramble about our favorite movies, foods, colors, and other stupid, inconsequential stuff. She tells me more about Jacob and "his boys" and mocks me for not noticing his apparently obvious sexual preference.

"Come on, he's a contemporary ballet dancer. How could you not assume he's gay?"

I shrug. "I really only met him this morning. I don't like to judge people before I get to know them."

She appraises me for a moment before I continue. "Besides, whenever I saw you together he was always touching you, and kissing you, and you would say things like he was 'keeping you up all night' and –"

"Oh my God!" Bella screams, covering her eyes with her hands. "You thought we were sleeping together… oh my God!" Bella drops her hands from her face, her eyes wide with panic and she stares, unseeing, at the floor as she continues to ramble. "And then you and me… the other night… and we almost, oh geez! No wonder you thought I was a dirty, cheating slut!"

I try not to laugh over at her little freak-out. I grab her shoulders and spin her around to look at me. She looks mortified, her face flushing a bright red.

"Bella, I never thought that," I say sternly. "I'll admit I was confused, but mostly, I was extremely jealous. I wanted to be the one touching you and kissing you and… keeping you up all night." I mumble that last part quickly, and Bella playfully punches my arm. I hug her to my chest and feel her relax in my arms. I kiss the top of her head before releasing her so she can finish making breakfast.

She puts all the ingredients into a large, white, bowl and hands it to me, indicating I should stir them together. Evidently I'm not doing it correctly. With a giggle, Bella reassigns me to set the table as she takes the bowl from my hands and whips the contents at ten times the speed I had been gingerly mixing it.

Once the table is set, I return to the kitchen and lean against the counter on the opposite side of the room from Bella. I watch her as she scoops one cup of batter at a time from the bowl and pours it onto the hot skillet.

As she works, my eyes skim over her body. She's wearing a small pair of black workout shorts under that awful gray sweatshirt she wears all the time; the one with the neck torn open so it slouches down, exposing her left shoulder. She is barefoot again and every few seconds, she rises up on her toes and balances in place. I can see the taut muscles in her legs, so clearly defined from her years of dance, flex as she moves. She lowers her heels down again and sweeps her right foot against floor, arching her foot and pointing her toes to the side before retracting it back under her again. She repeats the movement with her other foot, except this time she points her foot behind her, draws a half circle on the floor with her toe, and then pulls her leg back underneath her body.

"You can't stop dancing, can you?" I tease.

Bella glances over her shoulder and smiles at me. "I'll stop dancing as soon as you stop checking out my ass."

I creep up behind her, wrap my arms around her tiny waist, and begin to plant feather-light kisses on her exposed shoulder. Maybe this sweatshirt isn't so bad after all.

"I can't help it," I mumble against her shoulder. "Your ass is hot."

I continue to kiss my way up her shoulder. Bella leans back against my chest and sighs, tilting her head to the side, giving me full access to continue my path up her neck. My hands seem to have a mind of their own, running under her shirt, over her hips, and tracing the bare skin just above the waist of her shorts.

"Edward," she whispers. "This is very distracting."

"Uh huh." I grumble against her neck, but I don't slow my movements. My hands continue to slide up her stomach while my lips continue their assault on her neck.

Bella takes a deep breath. Suddenly, she spins around in my arms, planting one hand firmly on my chest. She pushes gently and I walk backwards until I collide with the counter on the other side of the room. She raises the spatula she's holding with the other hand and points it directly at my face.

"Stay," she commands in a serious tone. I laugh and hold my hands up in mock surrender. She looks like a furious kitten, soft and harmless.

She backs away from me and returns to her skillet. I stay put, as instructed, while Bella finishes cooking breakfast.

Once the pancakes are finished, Bella piles the stack on a serving plate and places it on the table between our seats. She spears five pancakes off the top and places them on the empty plate in front of me. Then she stabs the next three and places them on her plate before passing me the syrup.

Up until then, I forgot how hungry I am. When the first bite hits my lips, I can't chew fast enough. Bella giggles at my eager consumption, and I confess I haven't eaten anything since Friday night. We finish all but four pancakes and the few pieces left on Bella's plate when she swears she can't take another bite.

"Emmett or Jake will eat them," she assures me. "Leftovers don't last very long around here."

As if on cue, there is a quick knock on the front door and it swings open before either of us move to answer it.

"I'm baaaaack," Jacob sings as he enters the house.

Over one shoulder he carries a black garment bag with "J. Jenks Productions" monogrammed across it in bright, white letters. Under his other arm is a large, red cardboard box. It looks like a shoe box, but its way too long.

"ISABELLA MARIE SWAN!" he cries as he approaches the table. "Step away from the carbohydrates!"

Jacob turns to look at me. "How many of those things did she eat?"

"Edward would never tattle on me," Bella responds.

"I see." Jacob scowls at me, though his mood is playful. He glances back and forth between me and Bella, likely concluding by her improved disposition that she and I had a significant discussion while he was gone.

He turns his attention back to Bella. "Alright, missy, I hope you enjoyed your little binge there because that was it. For the rest of the week it's lean protein and veggies for you."

"Awe, Jake, come on!" Bella whines mischievously.

"No ma'am. Once you see what I have for you in here," he waves the garment bag toward her, "you'll be begging me to add some extra miles to our workout."

Bella snatches the black bag from Jacob's hands and skips over to the couch. She lays it flat across the seat and begins unzipping it. I stand and begin clearing the dirty dishes from the table.

"Jacob," I say, "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I'm Edward. Sorry about before, I was just -"

"Stunned by my extraordinarily handsome features? I know, don't worry about it. Happens all the time, sweetie." Jacob winks at me again.

I laugh and hold out the plate in my hand. "Pancake?" I offer.

Jacob takes one off the top and shoves half of it in his mouth. "Thanks."

"Oh my God they cannot be serious!"Bella cries, enunciating every word. "I have to wear this?"

I can't see the contents of the garment bag over the back of the couch, and Bella quickly zips the bag closed.

"Don't forget these, too." Jacob taunts, shaking the box he's still holding in his arms. Bella groans and sinks down on the couch.

"HEY! Don't wrinkle it!" Jacob warns.

"There's not enough here to wrinkle," Bella mumbles under her breath.

"Come on, it's not that bad. Try it on, and you'll see." In one swift movement, Jacob scoops up the garment bag and heads up the stairs toward Bella's room.

"I'll be right there," Bella calls after him as she stands and walks back to the table. She picks up our empty glasses and walks toward the sink.

"I got this. Go ahead," I say, taking the dirty glasses from her.

"Are you sure?" she asks, almost pleading for me to rescue her from what awaits upstairs.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Go. I'll be here when you're finished."

"You will?" She seems surprised.

I chuckle. I guess I deserve that with my recent disappearing act. "Where else am I gonna go?" I lean down and place a gentle kiss on her lips.

She smiles, turns and follows after Jacob.

Author's Note:

Yup, some of y'all guessed it! Jake is Bella's "Sassy Gay Friend." (If you haven't seen those hysterical vids - run to youtube and search "sassy gay friend" the Hamlet one is the best)

Wanna know what's in the garment bag? You'll have to wait till the next chapter :::evil laugh::: don't worry, it will be up next week!

Turning Pointe is now on Twilighted! The link is on my profile.

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