AN: Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read this story. If you are curious as to what couple inspired this story you can find the info on my profile page. I am not writing it here because some people specifically requested that they didn't want to know.

Cullen818 is the best beta ever, and a extremely talented writer, if I do say so. I really don't know what I would do without her.

Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. This story is intended for a mature audience, so please do not read if you are not 18 or older.

Chapter 5 -JPOV

"Jesus Christ." Emmett grumbles in aggravation. He stomps out of the living room like a little drama queen.

Emmett hates country music, and it doesn't help him warm up to it when he knows that I only go back to my roots when I am depressed. I continue undeterred to strum Bessie, my Gibson acoustic guitar, singing verses of Ricochet's, The Truth is I Lied.

I had worked all summer to buy my first Gibby six years ago. Almost immediately after that we had lost our childhood dog, so at the time it seemed only natural to name it after such a loyal pet.

I finish the song in a whisper, as I lose myself in thoughts. I am so pathetic.

I guess I can't blame Emmett for being in a foul mood. I haven't been the ideal "boyfriend", but in my defense, I never made him any promises. I said I'd give this thing with him a try, and I am…I suppose, but today…well, today I didn't have the heart to put anything into this pseudo relationship. I am getting tired of pretending that this is working for me.

Thankfully, Emmett's cousin is getting married this weekend, and he is packing for his trip back to his hometown, Forks, Washington for the wedding. Since he is one of the groomsmen, and I hadn't met anyone from his family yet, I didn't feel comfortable tagging along. He had tried to convince me to accompany him anyway, if only just to meet his parents and sister, but I am just not ready to take that step, and I am not sure if I ever will be.

He's been here for a month and I don't have the heart to ask him to leave. After the filming of Love at First Sight, which I do not think about at all costs, Emmett came home with me. I enjoyed playing house for a time, but that is all it is…a hoax. Once Edward's spell on me had worn off, or the "E-fog" as I affectionately refer to it as, I realized that this thing with Emmett isn't fixing the ache inside of me.

I curse that whole day, and the stupid fucking movie that made me feel like I needed more than what I have. Shit, before that goddamn ordeal I was, if anything, content with my solitary life. I didn't need companionship. Sure, I wanted it…but I was willing to wait for it.

Edward made me want it, right fucking now. I didn't want to think that I had fallen in love with him, but I can't seem to progress past anything that happened in the span of that twenty-four hour period.

I commiserated over it on the plane trip back home. I allowed myself, for the flight only, to let myself wallow in a major case of self-pity. The passage home was an enlightening one, and it felt like I had been punched in the gut when I grasped that I had, in fact, left my heart behind. That realization left me feeling like I was going to vomit, so I got up, intending on finding the bathroom, but Emmett detained me by grabbing onto my wrist. He asked if I wanted him to join me for a little rendezvous, and I about threw up all over him. I had managed to stumble to the small washroom just in time, but not to surrender the contents of my stomach, but to bawl like a fucking baby. I sat on the pot for a good ten minutes crying my fucking eyes out for a boy I had just met less than a day ago.

When I walked off that plane I swore off any thoughts of Edward.

Since then, Emmett and I have fallen into a comfortable routine. He has "moved" into my rented, three bedroom house, in Corpus Christi, Texas. He didn't have a place of his own back in Washington. He had still lived with his parents, so he just had his mom pack a couple of boxes for him of his favorite clothes and items, and shipped the packages to him.

I only live a couple of miles from South Padre Island, so we go to the beach every weekend, which is enjoyable. It is the weekdays that I find unbearable. In the mornings, I manage to barricade myself in the spare bedroom that I had made into an "office". The small, eight-by-eight room only had three pieces of furniture; a desk, a chair and a two-drawer filing cabinet. This is where I spend time, managing my stocks and paying any bills. But I can only hide away for so long before Emmett will come looking for me.

After being alone for so damn long, I wasn't prepared for everything that is Emmett. I guess when all you have ever done is fuck a person, certain characteristics might come as quite a surprise when you start living with them; like never realizing that the person you are sticking your dick into doesn't have anything close to the personality that you thought he did. I always assumed Emmett was a wise, but arrogant, self-assured, playboy. Honestly, it turns out Emmett is needy, obtuse and kind of feminine for being bi.

Emmett constantly needs me to confirm that he looks good, he's doing something correct or he is making the right decisions, and he isn't very self-sufficient. He doesn't have any idea how to cook, do laundry, or shop for groceries, which is a definite byproduct of him living with his mom at the age of twenty-two, but these things shouldn't bother me. I should be willing to help…glad to in most cases, but mainly, I am just annoyed that I have to teach him basic things that he should have learned a long time ago.

And I thought that I didn't have any aspirations, but Emmett has shown me differently. I actually have a plan to do something with my life, I just don't know exactly what that plan is yet. Emmett has no desire to do anything besides have sex, play video games, give and receive facials and pedicures, and work out.

Even though I find myself wanting to throttle Emmett most of the time, I still care enough about him, not to want to hurt his feelings, but I've recognized that over the last few weeks that our relationship is suited more for friendship…with benefits. I don't care about Emmett the way I should, or the way he deserves.

Emmett throws an overstuffed duffel on the couch next to me, and sighs in relief when he notices that I have put Bessie down. I stare at his bag, guiltily wishing it contained all of his belongings, and not just enough to get him through a single weekend.

Emmett ambles over to me, and bends down. He pulls my knees apart, so he can rest his abdomen against the edge of the sofa, as he leans into me. His arms are braced on both sides of my thighs as he inclines in, for a kiss. The faint taste of syrup lingers on his mouth from breakfast. Enjoying the flavor, I move in a little closer to him and swirl my tongue against his lips.

As always, Emmett misinterprets my somber mood. "Are you sure you don't want to come? You don't have to go to the wedding. You can just hang out at my parent's house for that evening. I know you'd like Seattle…please." His voice and eyes, like his words, are pleading with me to reconsider, but I can't find it in me to care enough to change my mind.

No, I need this weekend. I have plans.

It doesn't escape my notice that Emmett tries to manipulate me. He subtly attempts to convince me of things, by putting his ideas into my head, and then making it seem like it was my idea originally. I have to admit he is really good at it.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize until after Love at First Sight what he had been up to. I had not only allowed him to convince me that Edward wouldn't want me; I also invited him into my house. Actually he invited himself, but he had sagaciously made it seem like it was my idea in the end.

I don't blame Emmett. If I would have paid more attention to him…if my thoughts hadn't been consumed with Edward than I would have figured out what he was doing. Instead, I had basically given him permission to influence all of my decisions.

No, all the blame fell on me. I believed Emmett without verifying with Edward what his intentions were. It's not that I didn't think I was worthy. Emmett didn't even seek to go that route with his arguments.

I know I am a catch, to anyone that can look past what I do for a living, that is. I don't have a humongous ego, even though I have a reason to. It takes a lot not to let success go to your head, so when I look for my self-worth I go straight to the source… what I know in my heart, and there is a lot to like about me. Like everyone else, I come with some baggage, but I have good looks, my own money, a great personality, I'm fun to be with, and I am pretty awesome in bed.

My dad had attempted long ago to destroy my self-esteem, with no success. And if he couldn't do it, than there isn't anybody that can.

No, Emmett had a different approach that day. He didn't try to tell me I wasn't good enough, because he is aware that I know better than that. He focused his attack on something that I didn't know…Edward, and when Emmett had leveled me with his suspicions, I was too afraid to confront Edward. I didn't want to hear him substantiate Emmett's doubts about his true feelings.

Emmett suggested that Edward wouldn't be interested in pursuing anything with me because I live too far away, and that I am getting close to leaving the porn world, or that I am too mature…too laid back for him. Edward is a wild child. He likes the nightlife and variety.

According to Emmett, Edward wouldn't have been interested in a monogamous relationship, and because I was too worried that my stubborn pride would take a hit, I let him walk away from me.

Thinking of Edward isn't improving my melancholy, so I center my thoughts on the person in front of me…the person that I know without a doubt wants to be with me, would remain faithful, miss me in his absence, and come home to me as soon as he can.

I push aside a healthy dose of shame from not being capable of sharing those feelings with him, which is why I need to be alone this weekend so badly. I have some hard decisions to make. I am so tired of not knowing what I want in life…and that includes, among other things, Emmett.

Emmett is searching my eyes for the answer to his question.

"Not this time baby." I am just pacifying him, and I know it is wrong, but I don't want to send him away on a bad note, just in case my conclusions from a weekend full of contemplation lead me in the direction of keeping Emmett around.

Maybe I can find out what's up my craw. It's possible that I just haven't given Emmett a fighting chance, and for all of his work, can't I exert more effort into making this relationship into something more tangible? I guess that remains to be seen, but it gives me hope that this relationship isn't really quite dead in the water yet.

I finally find my first genuine smile of the day, and it only took until about noon. Damn, really, what kind of saint is he for putting up with all of this? Anyone else would have run for the hills after the first week, but Emmett has stuck around, while I had just moped. It hardly seems like a worthwhile endeavor for him.

I lay my palm along his cheek, as I dip in for another kiss…a longer, sweeter one. As the kiss deepens flashes of bronze and emerald warm me. I have done such a good job of not thinking of Edward when I have control, but when I let it go just for a minute, pictures…quick images…appear, finding its way through the cracks in my armor.

Most often times, it happens during sex with Emmett. I try to push them back in to my subconscious, not wanting to taint the act. It works well throughout the event, but in the end, through my release, a very brief snapshot of Edward underneath me always appears, and not my live-in boyfriend.

However, the last few times, when I felt my stomach tighten and I knew what was coming, I prevented the usual visions by imagining inane things, like sports and good food. It was an accomplishment that I didn't see visions of Edward, but it ruined the orgasm, which consisted of nothing more than a series of feeble tremors that elicited an equally weak sigh.

I begin to steel myself against those images now, not wanting our goodbye to be contaminated with thoughts of another boy. Because of my inner battle I am unaware that my kisses have become more vigorous and carnal. My open mouth trails along his jaw, and down his neck.

My mind is oddly consumed by a sculpture, and even though I am not sure why, I am forever thankful that I finally manage to get Edward's image out of my head. The sculpture was "The Thinker", a man sitting on a pedestal in serious thought. I consider this appropriate content, assuming this represents me, and what this weekend will entail.

Emmett's hands roam my back, as I watch the mental struggle of the man made of marble. The statue is outside in a meadow, a small clearing with nothing but trees surrounding it. I know this place, but it is different somehow. My breath hitches when I realize that it is the small clearing that I had found when I first moved to Corpus. It is only a few miles away from here, and I had found it one day while riding through some old trails on my Ducati.

As the scene plays out in my head, Emmett and I tear each other's shirts off simultaneously. I attach my teeth onto his neck, biting hard as a strong wind shakes the scene in my dream. Emmett lets out a yelp and digs his nails into my back as he grasps onto me like his life depends on it.

I realize now that the reason that I hadn't recognized the meadow right away is because the surrounding foliage was wrought with autumn colors, and since trees in these parts didn't go through the process of changing colors like they did in the North, I had never saw my meadow in this form.

I am panting as my hands frantically work Emmett's belt open. Finally, my clumsy fingers dismantle it. I reach for the button of his fly, but Emmett pulls my hair at the nape until I am forced to lie on the couch. He rises, and looks down at me through hooded lids, as he works with his own denim. In seconds, he stands fully naked and aroused in front of me. I can't explain my emotions or why I feel the way I do, I just know that I need to get inside of him…fill him completely. I need to feel him sheathe me in his heat, as I rocket toward a climax I just know is going to surpass any other that I have had since Emmett moved in.

I reach up and grab a hold of his hard-on, begging for relief from this ache. I don't know if my grip is too tight, but Emmett emits a feral growl and brushes my hand away, so that he can gain access to my jeans. I shut my eyes as he works the material down my legs. I hear him drop down onto his knees in front of me, worshipping the planes of my chest and abdomen with his hands. He contradicts himself by moving slowly, almost reverently, in one sweep and a keen need in the next.

Mentally, the vibrant Fall colors encase the sculpture. The wind picks up, bending the trees, bearing down on the man so deep in concentration that he is unaware of the storm that is taking place around him. Physically, Emmett has my cock in his mouth and he it is sucking it with verve. My hips bounce up and down off the couch as I meet his mouth for each thrust, but this isn't near enough to satisfy me.

I pull myself up, and throw Emmett over the couch. He positions himself with one knee on the seat cushion, and bends over so his elbows rest on the arm of the sofa. Emmett has already saturated my dick with his mouth, so I am slick with his spit, which is a good thing, since I had no such thoughts of searching for lube.

In spite of the corporeal act with Emmett, I am drowning in my vision. A darkened sky is the ominous sign of a storm brewing of epic proportions. So, as I wait, I enter and withdraw slowly; feeling the massive current flow through my body as I languorously repeat my penetration in Emmett's tight hole over and over again. I do this in a lackadaisical kind of way, but it is just a façade, because like my visual, this is just the calm before the storm.

I am too involved in the images to abandon it now. My frantic mind wonders what is going to happen to the man so apparently oblivious to everything going on around him. If this statue of "The Thinker" signifies me, I need to know how my subconscious plans for this to end.

As if my thoughts could spur Mother Nature, the howling of the wind and the rustling of half dead leaves fill my ears, and between the heat running through my body from being buried in Emmett's ass, to the fear building up in my chest from the sight before my closed eyes, I am close to hyperventilating, as my heart beats wildly. My imagination is vivid on a normal basis, but this seems to go beyond anything I had previously ever envisioned.

The speed of my thrusts into Emmett increase dramatically as the wind accelerates to dangerous levels in my visualization, slanting the trees, ripping the remaining leaves from their stems, but the statue remains still, unmoved, and assumingly, unaffected by the torrent surrounding it. "Fuck!" I yell as I lose any inkling of control that I might have had from the havoc ruling my body and mind.

I feel like I am on an acid trip, but it just seems so real, I know it's not, but like a bad dream I can't wake myself up. Why is this happening? I'm just in too deep, and I feel as if I am truly in that scene, ready to be blown away or crushed with a tree at any given moment. I know very well that this is just something that I made up but a gush of emotions, including the fear of not surviving this typhoon overtakes me.

Emmett is completely unaware of the improvised chaos going on in my head, as he groans out his pleasure of being fucked well and hard. But for me, fallen leaves whirl around violently, until the figure of the sculpture can barely be seen. The wind sounds like a freight train in my head while I can see nothing more of the man, just hues of swirling red, orange, gold and brown.

Is he gone? Where is he?

I pump in and out frantically, as I feel close to passing out from all of the mayhem surrounding me. I feel the sweat pour down my face, and over the ripples of my stomach, as I flex the muscle, plunging desperately in and out of Emmett, searching for an outlet to this tumult.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the wind stops on a dime. The sculpture stands there, in pristine form…unharmed. The trees around it are bare, as all the beautiful colored leaves now encircle the man. Just as I am about to come to my senses, the statue becomes human, and he lifts head to reveal the most vivid green eyes that I have ever seen.

"Oh God…no…" I whisper breathlessly; as I watch the multi-colored leaves mix together into a soft coppery background, and the eyes, burning emerald embers, bore into me. It is not much longer before everything blends collectively, and a solemn Edward emerges. His expression appears to be waiting for an answer that I don't have the question to. I repeat my useless plea helplessly, as I am finally thrust into the throes of an orgasm.

My hips spasm, and my head falls back, as each wave of pleasure and pain blasts through me, rendering me incapacitated until the erotic tempest decides to relinquish its impenetrable hold.

At some point during the climax my arms must have given way, because as I become coherent I find myself laying against Emmett's back. I push myself up, uncomfortable with a ginormous amount of guilt weighing on me.

Why can't I stop thinking about him?

Apparently, that is the consequence of what happens when you try not to think about something, or someone, for too long. It comes back, full force, in an unanticipated way, at an unexpected time, and with a level of intensity you didn't think was possible.

"Holy shit." Emmett stands slowly, obviously sore from the pounding that he just received. Fuck. How can I have done that?

"I'm so sorry, I…I don't know what happened…" I trail off, as the blatant lie makes my throat close up.

He turns to me, and pulls me into a bear hug. "What're you talking about? That was the best sex I think I have ever had." He wipes his brow. "That was fucking craziness."

"Fucking craziness." I confirm, full of unwavering remorse.

XXXXX

I should have known I would come here.

I get off my bike and stand in my meadow, staring at the center of the clearing where the statue, in my vision, had been situated. I sit down crossing my legs, Indian style. I pick at the grass underneath my fingertips absently, as I try to come to grips with what has happened to me since I met Edward Cullen.

Edward. His name still brought a dull ache to my chest. He may seem insignificant in the scheme of things, but those less than twenty-four hours with Edward altered something for me. He made me see that I want more, which I should be grateful to him for.

It's cool that I finally desire a relationship badly enough to take the steps to acquire it, but now that I have it, it isn't what I expected. Emmett does everything he is supposed to do, but he just doesn't fit the bill. Is it just him? If so, will someone else suffice, or will I always be searching for the unattainable? It's clear that I had fallen too hard, and too fast for Edward, and frighteningly, it doesn't seem like anyone else is ever going to measure up.

I search for a viable solution that can make this work with Emmett. It's very frustrating, because I just don't understand that if you want to solve a jigsaw puzzle bad enough, and all the pieces are right there in front of you, how can a result continue to escape you? I have tried to connect every piece into one another, at all angles, but they just don't fit. I could force them together but then the picture wouldn't come out as nicely. Pieces would be mangled and wrinkled, the fissures more visible, making the picture look distorted and unattractive.

Is my relationship with Emmett disfigured?

I would be a moron if I didn't recognize that my lack of response to Emmett has something to do with Edward. I have tried to not think of him this last month, and I had felt like I was successfully completing this mission, but yesterday it imploded in my face. I am not over Edward, and I am not moving on, as I had up until recently suspected.

I am a master at evading. My theory has always been that if I don't acknowledge my problems than they don't really exist. I have lived with this method for so long, but I am starting to understand, that these problems that I had chosen to ignore are actually shaping my existence. What happened with Emmett yesterday was figuratively the straw that broke the camel's back.

Love at first sight. I just can't fucking believe it. I never thought it was possible.

Maybe I am blowing this out of proportion. Maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that bullshit. Maybe I embellished all of the memories to make them appear that it had all implied more than they really did. Maybe Edward isn't that hot, maybe he isn't that fun, and that nice. Maybe he really doesn't mean a lot to me. Maybe Keanu Reeves and Pauly Shore are really good actors. Maybe American Idol actually has good talent this year.

Goddammit. The point is, that these "maybe's" could fuel a trip to a fucking asylum.

This is all my damn fault. Edward gave me indescript signs, Emmett boldly refuted them and it was my prerogative to believe Emmett, instead of asking Edward for clarification.

Edward gave me those answers when I arrived at the airport and found him. He confirmed what I thought he had been saying in so many words. Everything that had previously seemed so unclear, Edward made perfectly apparent. He pretty much set his feelings on a platter for me, and I unflinchingly refused them all.

I had to be the smart one…the one with the level head. I had to see things for what they really were. I had to be the mature one. I had to be the one to turn down his advances, and I was fucking bitter that I was placed in charge of that distasteful responsibility. Why did I have to be the grown up?

I regretted the rejection instantly, and when I watched him walk away from me, voluntarily turning his back on me...and walking straight out of my life…it fucking killed me.

I shouldn't have let Emmett hold me back when I wanted to run after Edward as he was boarding the plane. I had started to take steps toward him, but Emmett's big strong hands were right there to force me back into his chest. I wanted to scream for Edward, but Emmett's whispered words stopped any utterance I would have made. "Jasper, don't embarrass yourself. He doesn't want or a relationship at this point. Do you both a favor, and let him go."

I am aware that Emmett was wrong for stopping me, but I had to give him a shitload of credit for it. He had more balls than I did. He went after what he wanted, regardless of what it took to get it, and I just let my heart's desire go. What Emmett had done had actually reinforced my decision to bring him into my home. If he was willing to go through all of that to be with me, than why not…right?

At least that is what I thought then, but even if I hadn't chose to believe Emmett or went after Edward at the airport, it didn't change what was the right thing to do.

Edward and I are like night and day. I didn't need Emmett to spell out our differences to me. We are moving in completely opposite directions, so much so, that I can't even think of a compromise that would have been fair to either one of us, someone would have ended up very unhappy.

Before I realize it, I had wasted away the afternoon in the meadow. I climb on my motorcycle and make my way back home to prepare my favorite meal for dinner, my Aunt Leah's recipe for lasagna and garlic French bread.

I make enough so Emmett can have some when he returns.

I sigh heavily, as I sit in front of my empty plate with the morose thought that I haven't even speculated about how Emmett is doing this weekend. He had called when he arrived at his parent's house yesterday, and he called again this morning, but said that they had so many activities planned that he probably wouldn't talk to me until he left for the airport tomorrow.

It hadn't even occurred to me to wonder about his busy day. He even told me that two guys in the wedding party are gay, one being an ex-boyfriend, and I couldn't even garner up an ounce of jealousy. I pull my hands through my hair in frustration. What have I done? I push away from the table in irritation and wander over to my DVD cabinet, looking for something to temporarily take my mind off my woes.

Emmett hates war movies, so I put on one of my favorites, Saving Private Ryan, and sit in front of the tube with a tumbler full of Jameson's, a favorite of my father's.

By the time the credits are rolling on the film I had consumed four glasses of the Irish whiskey. I meander to my computer and stare at the black screen.

I shouldn't…but, in my weakened state, there is no denying myself. I have done enough of that already, I reason. So, I break down, and pull Edward up on Facebook. To my consternation I find that he doesn't allow anyone to look at his profile that isn't a friend, but I am thrown through a loop when I see that his profile picture is of the one I took of him in front of the volcano, at the Mirage.

Edward is a model. He had a fuckton of professionally taken pictures that enhance his eyes, accentuate his masculine jawline, highlight his famous crooked smile, and celebrate his beauty.

Instead he chose a picture that I had taken of him. A photo that had a goofy grin on his face, a sun burnt nose, and a stain on his shirt from where he had dripped ice cream all over himself while we were looking down on the strip from the Stratosphere.

Why? Why did he choose this picture? Did he use this pic because I took it? Was I reading too much into it? What would happen if I just sent him a quick message?

"Ugh," I shiver, as I quickly navigate away from his profile.

But regrettably, it is too late. Opening his Facebook page, also opened a door to questions that I had firmly locked, bolted and put a dresser in front of to keep shut, but now that it is open I can't stop the flow.

What is he doing right now? Has he forgotten me? Does he still have feelings for me? If he had, there are ways he could have gotten a hold of me, too…but I really didn't leave him an opening for that, did I?

I mean, how many times can I expect Edward to put himself out there for me? Seriously, I couldn't even do it once, and that was even when I am almost sure he would have welcomed it.

I am brought out of my thoughts by the sound of Buckcherry's, For the Movies, which is my ring tone for anonymous phone calls.

I look at the caller id. Tanya? Interesting.

"Hey, Tanya." I hate when people answer the phone like they don't know who it is that's calling.

"Hi, Jazz! How are ya sweetie?" I can tell by her tone that she is smiling. When I first had the pleasure of working with Felix and Tanya I thought that I had a small crush on her, which is rare, because I don't find too many girls that I even hold a slight attraction to, but Tanya is an undeniably beautiful woman, and her vivacious personality just adds to that beauty.

But once I realized there is a possibility that Felix and her have something going on, I backed off. These two are like no other in the industry. They hold everyone that works for them in high regard, and they give concessions to their employees that other executives would deem laughable. I have a lot of respect for them; so needless to say, my crush on her died a quick and quiet death, as our business relationship developed.

"I'm doing good. What's up?"

"Well, we have a new project coming up, and the budgets higher, so the pay will be better. We actually got more funding because of the cast."

"What are you doing?" I ask, slightly intrigued. Emmett and I had discussed getting out of the business immediately, but no decision had ever been made.

"It is all-pro! It is a star line up, Jazzy. The best of the best. Eight of the hottest in porn." Tanya says excitedly.

Wow. This would be a great ending to a primarily satisfying career, but I can also argue that so was Love at First Sight.

"We thought maybe you could do a scene with Emmett. I talk to Emmett this afternoon and he was all for it. He said that you two are seeing each other now. I figured we could introduce it that way. People are suckers for…"

"No. I am not interested." I interrupt. The more that I think about it, I can't think of a better way to end my career than to have Edward be my grand finale. I am about to explain to her that Love at First Sight was my last film, but she speaks before I can.

"Jas, c'mon. This is the best of the fucking best! If you're not in it, then we won't have the top the porn industry has to offer. The money is going to be fabulous for this piece, and it is being filmed in Jamaica. Come. On. Jamaica for christsakes!!" Her voice shakes, as if she is jumping up and down with excitement as she speaks.

So, they want the best of the best? Well, than who am I to refuse them?

"Fine, I'll do it."

I can hear Tanya clapping in the background. She must have her headset on. "Jas, that is fantastic. You and…"

"I want Edward."

"What?" She asks, but I don't repeat myself, because we both know that she heard me the first time. There is a pause on the line, and I remain quiet, ready for an attack, because there will be no other way.

"Jas, that scene with you two turned out hot, just wait until you see it, but…but Edward is new…he isn't widely recognized yet." I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head, as she speaks slowly, trying to understand why I am asking for him.

"I won't do it without Edward, so figure out how important it is to you that I'm in it, and make your decision. I am fine with either way."

"Jasper, I have nothing against working with both you and Edward again, but I am not sure this is the gig for it. What is your boyfriend going to say about this?"

"Don't worry about Emmett. I will handle him, but if you decide to accept my prerequisite I suggest that you don't tell Edward that it was by my request."

"Why not?" She inquires wearily.

"Umm…we didn't part on the best of terms."

"Jesus, fuck." Tanya curses into the phone. "Let me talk with Felix about it."

XXXXX

It is Tuesday night, and I have yet to discuss my conversation that I had with Tanya to Emmett. I figure that if Felix and Tanya agree that Edward will not do, or Edward says an unequivocal "no", which is highly likely, than there will be no need to tell Emmett what had transpired.

However, as soon as I do hear from Tanya, Emmett and I will be having a conversation. I will be breaking it off with him, regardless, I just don't know if I need to add the piece about Edward yet or not.

The discussion about the new movie had been brought up, but I told him I had to think about it.

I have been faking sickness, so I haven't had sex with Emmett since he returned from Washington. I know I can't put it off for too much longer. Emmett is extremely sexual, and he has already complained that it has been almost a week since our last time. He is restless to regain the passion that we experienced during our last encounter.

I haven't had a problem convincing Emmett of my illness since I have been walking around the house a nervous wreck ever since I last talked to Tanya. So, it is with no surprise that when Buckcherry's song blares from my cell's speaker that I jump anxiously.

I rush to my phone and I see that is Tanya. A quiver of anticipation, fear and desire shakes my frame. I am aware that the chances are slim to none, but now that the idea of having Edward again has become plausible, all of the feelings that he had brought forth in that one day came back in a rush. I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, gathering the courage to press the green button.

"Hello, Tanya." I say breathlessly into the phone, not able to fully find my voice.

Her two simple words turn my world upside down.

"He's in."

AN: Thanks for reading and putting up with my crazy lemon. I do that once in a while, because writing lemons can get a little boring. I have to admit though, that I usually wait until I am a little deeper into the story before I pull out my weirdo tendencies, but who really wanted a full out lemon with Emmett anyway? Yuck.

Thanks again, and as always your comments are greatly appreciated.