Important AN at the bottom. Please read.

Thanks to Lauren (leckadams) for spending money on this fic.

Thanks to everyone for the moral support last week. I received so many wonderful PM's that totally cheered me up. So thanks guys!

Thanks to Belle (bellemeer) for not only rec'ing me on her amazing fic (There's A Crack In Everything) but she listened to me vent when I lost half of chapter 6 too.

I tried to respond to LostImortal, but the profile doesn't accept PM's, so thank you for your kind review.

Layne Faire had a rough week too, but she managed to make time to do some awesome beta work.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.

Chapter 5

2:16am

I groan, pulling the pillow over my head, trying desperately to regain unconsciousness, but the red digits are burned into my retinas, taunting me with the hour of my wakefulness.

Dammit.

I toss the pillow aside, opening my eyes to the blackness of the room. It hadn't been all that long ago that I'd have been used to waking up at this time, as well as numerous other times throughout the night. Over the last few weeks, though, I'd become accustomed to sleeping like a baby, my old habit gone since my visit to Sinner's Island.

Knowing who I am…what I am, has lifted a monstrous burden from my weary shoulders. Solving the mystery of why I've never been able to please a woman, or satisfy myself, allows a peace to settle over me, I've never experienced before.

I hadn't just accepted that bathtub incident as proof of my sexuality. No. No. No. I surfed the World Wide Web, seeking more evidence to support my newfound epiphany. After investigating the extensive assortment of gay porn on the Internet, I verified what I should've known all along.

That incident had been no fluke. There's no doubt about it. I'm homosexual.

Thank fucking God.

I should be freaked out, learning I'm gay, but actually it just clicks. The worry, the constant pressure to be 'normal', the edginess, the discontent; they all vanished once realization bloomed.

In the process of proving my point, I've also come to believe that my cock is going to fall off and die.

I've jacked my dick more in the last two weeks than I have in the last ten years. But, it isn't just the videos that provide relentless fodder for my insatiable hunger.

It's Jasper. His gorgeous face, his sinewy body, his graceful gait…his hands.

I want those hands on me again. And if I'm fortunate enough to be given another opportunity, I will not screw it up.

I thought it might have been a slightly overblown infatuation…okay, so maybe a bit of an obsession, but the fact is, I'd been, and still am, extremely attracted to him.

I've also realized my interest in Jasper transcends well beyond physical appeal. I care about him. A lot.

He isn't overly verbal, but his eyes and mannerisms speak volumes. He's quiet, but friendly, and passionate about people and things he cares about. His warm smiles cause me to smile; his rich laugh stirs a warm contentment to swirl through me, because he matters to me, and I adore seeing him happy.

Needless to say, I've had plenty of spare time, during these last two weeks, to come to grips with not only my homosexuality, but to define my true feelings for Jasper, as well.

I've thought back over the course of the last month, and to my utter mortification, I've deduced that I'd inadvertently been giving Jasper mixed signals regarding my intentions toward him. As intuitive as he is, he probably suspected all along I was gay, but my actions and words contradicted themselves. I'd practically stalked him, but then backed off when he started flirting subtly. I'd told him I didn't have anyone waiting for me back home, but then mentioned I'd been married to a woman.

He must be so confused and frustrated.

Being so nauseatingly oblivious, I hadn't recognized the signs earlier, but I'm certain that Jasper had been interested in me at one point.

Given my erratic behavior, though, I don't know if he still is.

It's difficult to remember the way we'd left things two weeks ago. To say that I'd returned from Sinner's Island overwhelmed would be an appalling underestimation. However, the more I focused on the details of our last encounter, and our last words, I clearly recall his hurtful unresponsiveness, and his blatant disregard.

Jasper has pushed me away. And rightfully so.

But is it all settled then? Had that been that my one and only last chance? Will Jasper let me erase some of my ignorant mistakes and afford me the opportunity to show him what he really means to me?

It's kind of hard to answer those questions when I don't ever see him. Jasper has, once again, performed his famous disappearing act. I haven't caught sight of him since he abandoned me at the inn steps two long weeks ago.

I'm only here for another month. Time is quickly running out for us to spend together…to build something together…before I return home to Chicago.

I drop my fist forcefully into the mattress. How can I tell him how I feel, how sorry I am for everything I'd begun and then backed out of? How do we start over…begin something new, if he won't present himself?

I've found myself wavering at the footpath that leads to his cabin a few times, only to turn back, not able to bring myself to infringe upon his territory. I also haven't broken down and asked Rosalie or Emmett about his whereabouts, but I don't know how much longer I can go without seeing him, without explaining my feelings for him.

I've attempted to entertain myself by putzing around Bon Terre, checking out the stunning scenery, visiting the local sights, or just hanging out with Rosalie and Emmett, or the other guests. However, my mind never drifts too far from Jasper.

It's true, I'm going crazy from not seeing him. Yet, even in these more recent days, when I didn't think it'd be possible to bear another day without setting my eyes on him, I've still done nothing to avidly seek him out.

Honestly, there've been several reasons for not searching him out, other than not wanting to invade his privacy. Foremost among them, I've required time to accept such a drastic discovery that not only explains so much about my past, but affects every single aspect of my future. Even though it's lifted a burden, it's still a tremendous load to process.

Another reason I've been hesitant to chase him down is the impossibility of our situation. I'll only be In Bon Terre for another month and I fear for my heart. There's no doubt in my mind that I'll return to Chicago in the fall…it's my home. Falling in love with Jasper Hale will do me no good, whatsoever.

If I haven't already.

If I happen to be in love with him already, and we become intimate, I don't know how I'll cope when it's time to leave. Is it possible that I can have some sort of liaison with Jasper and then return happily to Chicago in the autumn, only remembering him as the wonderful catalyst that led me to my self-actualization?

I'm skeptical, to say the least.

The thought of leaving Bon Terre, and Jasper, already causes a stabbing pain in my chest.

God, I hate thinking about this.

Where the hell is he?

Now wide awake, my stomach growls, so I throw off the covers and pull a t-shirt over my head. Rosalie keeps treats on the kitchen table for midnight snackers, and an apple scone sounds delicious.

As usual, on my way out, I peer out the windowpane, seeing a faint light in the distance, coming from Jasper's place.

Is there someone there with him?

Setting him on fire with their touch?

He's free to be with whom he chooses, but it kills me now that I've finally pulled my head out of my ass to grasp the fact that it's me I want him to choose.

I haven't seen him outside again. He's stopped standing outside my window, or at least he isn't smoking while he's doing it. The few times I've been out there late at night, his boat is already gone.

He's gone back there. Doing God knows what and with whom.

I remember the guy Jasper had been talking to when we had left the bar. It slays me that he could be there, talking to him, being the recipient of his smiles…caressing him.

I sniffed, recalling his scent when I'd buried my face in his tantalizing neck at the bar.

Cedar and smoke.

His skin had been hot and silky, and I still can't believe I had the chance to lick him and didn't partake.

Another wasted opportunity.

I amble downstairs, making my way into the kitchen, tiptoeing like a thief in the night. However, it takes a bit away from the deviousness when Rosalie leaves a note on the crown jewel of goodies that says 'help yourself'.

It also doesn't help if she's guarding them.

"Hi Rosalie. Can't sleep?"

"Emmett's gotta cold, so he's snorin' up a hurricane up there. What are you doin' up?"

"I need another one of those apple scones." I steal one from the basket in the center of the kitchen table, punctuating my actions with an evil snicker, not willing to completely give up the charade of being sneaky.

I sit down across from her and nibble on the sweet treat.

"Do you wear that around town?" I ask, signaling to the worn purple Northwestern Wildcat t-shirt she's wearing.

"Hell no, not unless I want to get mauled by some rabid Tigers." She snorts.

"Are there a lot of LSU fans in Bon Terre?" I had noticed that many of the homes in town had LSU Tiger flags hanging proudly from their residences. Baton Rouge isn't that far away, so it wouldn't be a far stretch, given the way this small town rallies for their own, that they'd also staunchly support their SEC powerhouse.

"Heck ya, these folks had a vigil for two straight nights before LSU went to the title game in 2008. You'd think the world was comin' to an end," she chuckles, shaking her head. "Jas is just as bad as the rest of 'em. He's the biggest fan I know, been so since he was a kid." Hearing Jasper's name causes my gut to twist, and I put down the scone, my appetite suddenly lost.

Her smile wavers. "Y'know, I think Jas was only eight when he decided he was goin' to LSU. As soon as he was old enough he started workin' summers, and weekends durin' school, to save up tuition."

"But he didn't go," I state solemnly. Her eyes narrow, probably wondering how I obtained such information.

"No, he didn't," she replies, with a woeful smile.

"Times were tough when we were young'uns. We didn't have much money back then. Jas had to give up some of his earnin's to help out around the house." Her eyes shine, but she continues to smile softly.

"By the time I graduated high school, my family hadn't saved enough money to send me to a good college, even after I'd received half of a scholarship to Northwestern. I planned on attendin' the community college, but Jas wouldn't have it. He said I was smarter than all that. He gave me the money that ma had saved up for his college, along with everything he'd earned workin', so I could go to the big University and get the best education. That's why I tried so hard while I was there. Always studyin', so I could get the best grades. I didn't want to disappoint him. I didn't want him to regret passin' up his dream for me." She sniffles, wiping her nose with a napkin.

"He said he didn't need to go to some fancy college to do what he does best, which is so true. Look at all the beauty he creates with his hands. He has amazin' talent." She dabs the moisture from her eyes. "He's somethin' else…my brother. There isn't much we wouldn't do for each other."

I feel my eyes sting, shamed by my own regrets. There had been a time that Alice and I shared an unconditional relationship.

I've been so busy the last year feeling sorry for myself, so self-consumed with my fears and dissatisfaction, that I let our relationship crumble.

I swallow past the bitterness, and change the subject.

"What are you eating?"

A silly grin spreads across her tired face. "Cap'n Crunch." I love the way she says 'captain'. She pronounces it exactly like it's spelled on the box. Cap'n.

"You want some?" She doesn't wait for answer, but gets up to retrieve another bowl from the cupboard.

We both crunch our cereal in silence, but it's companionable and easy.

"If you don't mind me sayin', you looked a tad mopey at dinner," she speculates.

I'd really like to tell her the true reason for my moroseness. I'd really like to tell her that I was upset Jasper ditched us…me…again. That yet another day will go by before I'll see that cheeky smile, or hear that scintillating voice.

But, even though I know Rosalie would be a great listener, I can't spill my guts yet. It's not fair to my family, who should be, and will be, the first to know about the changes in me, and informing Alice I'm gay isn't something I'm willing to divulge through email or over the phone.

It's sad enough that I'll be forced to expose my secret to my parents by phone, since they don't reside in Chicago anymore. They retired a couple of years ago, moving to the Florida Keys. While I fully expect they'll be disappointed, it's important to me to inform them and Alice before anyone else.

Of course, I have every intention of enlightening Jasper of my latest discovery ASAP, but he has to materialize for us to have that conversation.

So, instead of telling Rosalie the truth, I decide to disclose something I've already come to terms with. "Bella…my ex-wife…she's getting married tomorrow."

"Oh hon." She reaches over, patting my hand in a comforting way. "I'm so sorry. That girl must be a little bent to give you up."

I smile at her frankness. "No, it's really okay. I've had some time to reflect recently, and I've realized that she deserved more than I was able to give her." I leave it at that. I don't know how much more I can say without revealing too much.

She scoffs softly, revealing her disbelief, but says nothing.

"Want some more Cap'n Crunch?" She asks, holding up the container.

"Sure," I answer, taking the box from her.

"I love the way you say that," I admit, pouring another full bowl. "Cap'n Crunch," I repeat, embellishing her thick accent.

She raises her brows. "Oh, so it's like that, is it? Okay…" She sits up straight in her chair, and lifts her nose high in the air.

"I will have some of that CapTAIN Crunch, if you please." She plugs her nose while she mocks my speech, and purported 'accent'.

"I do not talk like that," I admonish, in outrage.

"I do not talk like that," she mimics, continuing to plug her nose, and adding a squeaky voice to boot.

Thoroughly affronted, I throw a piece of the cereal from my bowl at her. It hits her face, before landing on the table next to her arm. My eyes widen, shocked by my own actions, but it doesn't prevent the fit of giggles I succumb to.

It's not until I'm pelleted with bits of peanut butter and crunch berries, that my laughter escalates almost painfully, but I still manage to retaliate in kind.

By the time our bowls are empty, and our laughter has cramped our stomachs, we're both covered in a sticky, slimy mess.

We share the responsibility of cleaning up the kitchen, before we say our goodnights and return to our rooms to clean up ourselves.

Bonding with Rosalie causes me miss my own sister, and I pray our relationship can be restored; that I haven't fucked it up beyond repair.

XXXXX

"I'll check for fluids," Victoria says skeptically, a frown marring the pretty face of the town's coroner.

Like Jeremy, she knows she won't find any, because it's not the killer's MO. There's no sexual assault, just a gruesome strangling of an innocent young girl.

Once a week, for the last four, a young woman has been found in various deserted locations throughout town. She's blindfolded, wearing only her underclothes, and all of their bodies are positioned the exact same way.

James, the deputy and Jeremy's right-hand man, finishes the arrangements to have the body delivered to Victoria's office. He looks tired and shaken. James has proven to be a reliable assistant. He's very good at his job, competent and thorough in all of our investigations. Jeremy can see that the serial killings are starting to really wear on the other man.

Victoria packs up her kit, before coming to speak to them. "I'll see you at home, baby," she says sympathetically, placing a light kiss on James' cheek.

"I'll have the report complete by morning," she says, glancing up at me, while she closely monitors the packaging and movement of the girl's body.

Jeremy has always felt that Victoria is as stiff and cold as the bodies she examines, but James, her husband of three years, says she's quite the opposite.

A 'firecracker' is what he affectionately calls her.

"Hey Alice."

"Edward? Is everything okay?" Her voice is more high-pitched then normal, and it bites that Alice feels there has to be an emergency in order for me to actually phone her.

"Yeah, umm…everything is fine. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice," I admit.

There's a long pause on the line, and I wonder if I've overstepped the boundaries we've established in the last year. I hope I'm not too late, because I don't want to have these walls between us anymore.

"Is…is that o-okay?" I stammer.

"Yeah…" she whispers slowly. "Of course, it's okay Edward. It's nice to hear your voice, too."

Rays of hope warm my chest, when I hear her sincerity. I smile into the phone. "You'd love it here Alice…"

And so we talk for almost an hour catching up. She tells me what's going on in Chicago, and all about her latest boyfriend.

Since I've made the decision that telling her I'm gay over the phone isn't an option, I only mention Jasper in passing. Instead, I describe the surroundings to the best of my ability, discuss the progress of my novel, and mention that Rosalie is making me fat.

We both laugh, and it sounds so genuine; it feels wonderful.

"Speaking of which, I think dinner is just about ready to be served. She's making her Nana's lasagna. She even makes her own noodles, for Christsakes."

"Sounds scrumptious, you'll have to bring back some recipes, if she's willing to part with them." She pauses sighing softly, "Well, it was really good to talk to you Eds."

My eyes immediately tear up when she uses the nickname she hasn't spoken since I started high school. It's at that exact moment I realize our relationship is going to be all right.

"Call me again, real soon, okay?"

"I will…I-I miss you." My emotional state has me stuttering through my confession.

"I've missed you too," She replies, and by the wistful way she says it I know she's not referring to just the time I've spent here.

XXXXX

I slide on a fresh t-shirt and head down to the dining room. The smells emanating from the kitchen are mouthwatering. The tomatoey, garlic scent permeates the room, instantly causing my demanding stomach to grumble loudly.

Emmett's already seated when I sit down – fork in hand. "Hey Edward. Looks like it's just the three of us again tonight."

I try not to look crushed, like I have every other day when it becomes apparent that Jasper isn't going to show up. Emmett looks at me strangely, so I pass off my misery on the new guests. "Oh, I was hoping to finally meet the two girls that arrived on Monday."

Emmett gives me a knowing look. If he only knew.

He smirks devilishly. "Oh, I thought the frown was because Cap'n Crunch isn't on the menu tonight." He winks, chuckling when he sees my blush. Evidently, he's not too concerned about the food fight Rosalie and I had last night.

Nor should he be.

"No, seriously, Irina and Jane are havin' supper in town, and then they're headin' down to the dock for a party."

"What kind of party?" I ask, conversationally.

"I dunno. Typical beach party…bonfire, alcohol, music…" He trails off, his thought completely lost as the kitchen door swings open.

"I hear Jas is gonna be there," Rosalie adds, while she brings a steaming casserole dish to the table. I can't stop the instantaneous reaction I have to hearing his name and my eyes shoot up to Rosalie's face to verify that what she's said isn't in jest. She's looking at me, so I try to cover my interest in her brother by eyeing the dish in her hand.

My mouth automatically salivates when I notice the cheese still bubbling around the edges.

She snickers, "Okay boys, try not to eat the whole dish before I come back."

I've already dished out my serving, and taken my first bite, before she returns with a plate of garlic bread and a bowl of mixed vegetables.

I bypass the vegetables in favor of adding an extra slice of garlic bread to my plate.

Conversation flows through dinner, while I steadfastly avoid mentioning Jasper or the party tonight.

"So, Edward, I was thinking of puttin' a gazebo in the back. What do ya think? I see ya back there often. Wouldn't it be nice if you had some place to sit, instead of leanin' up on that tree the way ya do?" Rosalie asks, while she cuts into a homemade peach cobbler.

After two helpings of lasagna, and two large wedges of garlic bread, I resist the dire urge to unbutton my jeans when the tasty dessert is placed in front of me.

"Well, it's your property, but honestly, Rosalie I wouldn't change a thing back there. I love it exactly the way it is."

Her eyes sparkle, and she smiles crookedly. "I think you just might be right Edward," she agrees matter-of-factly. Her eyes lower to her plate, while she cuts into her own desert. "Jas agrees with ya too. Says I shouldn't mess with the natural beauty."

"You should take his advice," I answer, just above a whisper, squelching a sudden burst of melancholy.

I finish my last bite, and sit back rubbing my swollen belly. "That was delicious. Are you sure you didn't go to school to be a chef?"

"Her cookin' is just as good as her designin', don'tcha think?" Emmett beams at his wife with pride and love.

"I certainly do," I concur.

"Thanks guys," Rosalie says with a hint of blush on her cheeks, staring at her husband. I look at anything but them, feeling like I'm intruding on an intimate conversation. After their moment, she jumps up and starts clearing dishes.

"So, Edward?" She says distractedly. "Are you goin' to head on out to that party tonight?"

I eye her, trying to figure out if she knows I'd only be going in pursuit of her brother, or if she just wants me gone so she and Emmett can have some quality alone time, but she's not portraying any signs of a hidden meaning behind her question.

Not that it matters anyway. Once she mentioned Jasper would be there, I knew I'd also be attending.

XXXXX

Closing my laptop after writing my seventh sex scene, I find my own interpretations, even heterosexual, have turned me on. I doubt I'll need so many for this story, but it's nice to keep them around, just in case.

I palm my dick, glancing at the clock on the night table, and decide to have some quality time of my own before I head out for the beach party.

I lean back in the chair, tracing the outline of my erection through my sweats. Molding the pliable fabric against the bulge, I look down, moaning as I squeeze, massage and manipulate my length.

I never thought I'd get so turned on watching myself play with my own cock, but fuck if I don't get harder as my eyes capture every movement.

I tease my hardness endlessly through the soft cloth. My self-induced torture compels whimpers and curses to seep past my lips.

I imagine seeing Jasper at the wharf tonight, standing amongst the bonfire, wisps of his hair blowing in the breeze, his gorgeous hooded blue eyes staring at me with insurmountable lust and want.

My dick pulses. Any image of Jas never fails to leave me rock hard and throbbing.

Especially when the images transform into ones without clothes.

He'll be magnificent, no doubt.

His chest will be solid, his stomach flat and cut, with a tantalizing strip of blond hair under his navel. He'll have a long, thick cock, with a bulging vein and bulbous head, begging to be touched, sucked…buried.

Buried so fucking deep.

A groan full of longing and desire is wrenched from my chest. I want that so badly. Hell, I want him so badly. I want to feel his stubble against mine as I ravage his mouth. I want to feel his tongue slide along my shaft, while I reciprocate. I want to feel his pulse inside of me…opening and stretching…pumping.

Rising, I lower my sweat pants and then return to the chair, scooting my ass close to the edge of the seat.

I situate the chair close enough to the desk, so that when I prop my feet up onto the ledge of the wooden surface my knees nearly touch my chin, but I spread them wide open, letting them fall as far to the sides as they'll go, giving me a perfect view of my cock and sac…and also perfect access to what lies beneath.

I'm thankful that the chair doesn't have wheels, affording the possibility of obtaining a position I've only imagined thus far.

Never have I felt so vulnerable, yet free, at the same time.

I've been experimenting with my ass…touching, rubbing, and inserting. I've gotten as far as sticking a whole finger inside of me. The pain was awful at first, and the pressure almost unbearable, but I've definitely got the hang of it. It took me several attempts to find my prostate, but once I had, it's become a drug, and I can't get enough of the high.

I'm slowly milking my cock, wringing small beads of cum from the reddened tip. My other hand rubs down my inner thigh, building anticipation for where I really want it to be. I relish the chase, rolling my balls around my palm, stretching the loose skin, and then cupping them. I press into the soft skin under my balls, slowly leading the way to the wrinkled skin beyond.

I force the hand fisting my dick not to rush, but my body is already desperately searching for the release it needs. I slow down, but my needy body retaliates with small quick thrusts of my hips.

I haven't figured out how to control the timing of my climax well enough yet, so helpless to circumvent the imminent, I go for it. I quickly suck my biggest finger in my mouth, and press it into my excited hole. I'll avoid the area that doesn't fail to make me cum on the spot for as long as I possibly can.

My eyelids squeeze shut with the pleasure of it all. I can't believe I've lived so long without this. Prodding my canal with sharp decisive thrusts, my hips snap up, pressing my finger in deeper, while I imagine that it's a cock inside of me.

I've been watching videos. I know how it looks, how it's done…but I want so badly to know how it feels.

"Jasper," I cry out, longingly.

It's his dick I want in my ass. It's his body I want on top of mine, and his lips I want to feast on. It's his name I want to scream out when he's sheathed inside my tight heat.

I pick up the tempo on my shaft, repeatedly pulling my fist over my head. I find the spot deep inside me that makes my stomach roll, and my toes curl.

I'd make Jasper feel so good, he'd cry out for me as he spilt his seed inside my willing tunnel.

"Shit…uhhh."

I hold my pulsing dick upright, and perfectly still, while it rains creamy cum over my chest and abdomen. I have to gnash my teeth to contain the shouts of pleasure, while staggering waves of bliss seize my body.

I drop my softening dick onto my stomach, and lay my head back on the chair, panting from exertion.

God, I hope I see Jasper tonight.

I'm more than ready to receive pleasure from something other than my own hand.

XXXXX

The party is in full swing by the time I arrive fashionably late. I've been here for about twenty minutes, but haven't seen Jasper anywhere. There are only a hundred or so people in attendance, so if he's around, I shouldn't have any problem locating him.

"Hey you're Edward, right?" I turn around, and face two young women, perhaps a few years younger than myself. They look like twins. One is a few inches taller than the other, but they both have long flowing blond hair, similar facial structures, and the most striking golden eyes. It may be just a trick of the blaze around us, but their eyes are almost…yellow. Fascinating.

"Yeah, umm…have we met?" I ask, doubtfully. I'd remember seeing eyes like that, even in passing.

"Not officially. You've probably heard of us, but we haven't had the pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Irina; this is my sister, Jane," she says, pointing at her cohort. "We're staying at the Stormy Haven too…right down the hall from you. We've spotted you reading in the backyard a few times."

I'd been to the library earlier in the week to gather information regarding basic forensic vernacular for my story. I could've researched the information I was looking for on the Internet, but I'm glad that I hadn't. I've learned a lot more reading an entire book on the subject than I would've just by looking up specific info and situations.

Endeavoring not to spend so much time in my room, I'd elected to do my reading in my favorite place.

"Yeah, wouldn't it be more comfy for you to sit on the porch or something? The ground back there doesn't look very inviting." Jane asks.

On the contrary…but, I don't want them to know that. I'd rather not have the company. So, I just smile and shrug.

They've only been here for a few days, so I catch up on the places they've already seen, then suggest some of the places I've visited that I think they'd enjoy. A few of the local boys that had been inching closer to the girls join our conversation.

When I can't stand anymore of the flirting and giggles, I excuse myself to get a beverage.

I grab a beer, before returning to the bonfire. Everyone is gathered near the blaze, as we enjoy the coolest night we've had in Bon Terre since I've arrived. Someone pulls out a guitar, and the crowd closes in around him.

He strums methodically; his voice is a soothing, melodious timbre. Couples hold one another, gently swaying to the soft music, while a sense of peace and tranquility settle over the group.

The music calms me, like it's always held the power to do in the past. For the first time since I've been here, I miss playing, and I miss my piano back home. I hadn't wanted to bring any instruments with me on this vacation, when lately, playing reminds me only of the bitter disappointment I suffer as the result of my career.

It's a strong reminder of why I'm here.

I stare blindly into the flames. The part of me that wanted to avoid a relationship with Jasper while I'm here is getting bigger. Not seeing him is doing a real number on me, and it hurts that he purposefully eludes me.

Now that I'm able to see how things must've appeared to him this last month, I don't blame him for being confused. But, I can't understand, if he were having an issue, why he hadn't just talked to me about it.

I'm starting to believe that maybe this just isn't worth it. This constant goose chase that I'm playing with Jasper isn't helping me to recover, but at the same time I can argue that before I'd met Jasper I hadn't really had a life at all.

Jasper's encouraged me to start living again, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I yearn, I desire…and I feel passion.

I think I can handle the good with the bad. I'd rather have this...longing, this craving, this unrequited desire, than to have never experienced any of it at all.

I want a life…a real one, not the pretense of one.

"This is a lot different than the last bonfire you attended, huh?"

Jasper.

I swing around to find him staring at me. His eyes are dark, penetrating…soul-searching, but at the same time, uninviting and wary. In a span of a second, his eyes have drifted over every inch of me, and it may be my imagination but I sense an urgency there.

If that's true I'll do anything to get him to stop denying himself…denying us both.

He sought me out. He approached me.

Worried about scaring him off, I make a quick decision to not focus on any of the hurt of his previous defect, and just be glad that he's here now.

"Hey Jasper! It's really good to see you. What have you been up to?" I give him the warmest smile I can muster in my anxious state.

A crinkle forms between his brows a split second before he forms his own tentative smile, but it's not the same silly, sexy, mischievous smile I've been accustomed to. His eyes don't hold the spark that I've come to adore.

Studying him closer, I notice dark circles under his eyes.

Apparently, too many late nights.

His body language is intentional, and brutally standoffish.

It's like he doesn't want to be anywhere near me, but yet…he approached me.

I want so terribly bad to confront him, to ask him what he's doing here if he really doesn't want anything to do with me, but I already know the reason, and it's all my fault.

I remember our last contact…his mentality.

Indifferent…uninterested.

Cold.

He's put a wall around him, but strangely for me, I believe it's a good thing.

If he'd been forced to build a defense…put up this barrier between us, he has to have feelings for me.

Right? Jesus, I hope so.

I'm gambling a lot on this theory…my heart's the ante.

"Not much. Just work…" he trails off. Shrugging, his eyes flitting around, looking at anything but me, but his eyes keep flashing back to mine.

"So, how did that basement turn out?" I ask nonchalantly, barely able to contain my amusement at his futile effort at ignoring me. If he's fighting this he better be prepared for a battle. He doesn't know how determined I can be.

"They seemed to like it." He looks at me then, and I swear it looks like he's in pain. I forget my delight for a moment, feeling sorry for him. I can't wait to apologize for putting him through all of this uncertainty and misapprehension, and at some point in the near future I absolutely plan to make this up to him.

He seems to have given up his struggle for the moment as he watches me. His pink tongue zips out to swipe his plump top lip, then he bites down on the corner of his lower one.

He's trying to kill me.

I want to pull this stubborn man to me and kiss him senseless. I want to end all this confusion on both sides, and to ensure there are no more questions regarding the way we feel for each other.

But I've been so hot and cold; I don't want to get hot and heavy so fast. He'll just be expecting, at any moment, for me to flake out.

I want to be warm.

I'd try flirting…if I knew where to begin.

I remain cheerful, as I attempt to come up with some sort of strategy. "So, I heard your friends had their baby. How did they like the crib?"

His eyes light up slightly at the mention of his friends and their new bundle of joy. "They love it. Baby Sarah is a beauty." His smile wanes on the last word, while his eyes focus directly on my lips…and stay there. The intensity of his stare causes my dick to harden, and this time it doesn't bother me. I actually welcome it.

I lick my lips, in a hopefully seductive manner, but it seems to have the opposite affect of what I'd hoped for because his gaze breaks away. His body stiffens, and he turns halfway around, with his fists balled tightly at his sides.

"I should go," he mutters, looking frantically for an escape. He's going to leave, causing me to wonder how long he'll disappear for after this encounter. I'll be lucky to see him again before I head back home.

I can't let that happen.

No mixed signals. This is my chance to let him know where I stand.

Bravely, I reach out for his wrist, grasping onto it lightly.

"Don't go," I whisper…too fervently…too desperately, not for him to notice. I hold nothing back. "Stay with me, Jasper."

There's no possible way my words can be misconstrued.

Accept for someone who's been misled way too many times.

What have I done?

Fuck, I've really put myself in a hole.

"I-I can't. I have plans. Maybe we can hang out some other time." His lie is weak and unbelievable, and it irks me enough that I'm given no choice but to challenge him.

"That's bullshit, Jasper, and we both know it. You're going to evaporate into thin air, just like you have the last two weeks, and I'm going to be left wondering what the hell I did…what I continue to do. Why can't we be friends?"

Friends? Did I just say…Jesus Christ.

He growls, and turns away. "I gotta go."

"You're going back there aren't you?" I wince at the misplaced possessiveness I hear dripping from my words.

He walks away without bothering to answer.

Well, that didn't turn out like I planned.

XXXXX

I leave right after Jasper does, heading directly to the backyard to see if he's departed yet for the evening. It must be an auspicious night, because Jasper is just walking from his place to the boat.

I don't try to hide when I catch up to him. He stiffens as soon as he notices me, but keeps moving, only faster now. "Go inside Edward." He warns.

"No."

He swings around, and for a second it looks like he might deck me, but he just stands there seething. "Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes are pleading, and his hands are shaking.

"Doing what?" I hedge.

He groans, pulling his hands through his hair in frustration.

Okay, so ignorance…not such a great idea.

"I want to go," I beg, stumbling over my own feet to keep up with his long, quick strides.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to."

"Why not?" I repeat, while I stagger behind him, intending to get in the boat anyway.

This wasn't at all how I'd pictured this scenario.

He whips around unexpectedly, startling us both. I don't think he realized I'd been that close on his trail. He stares hard, angry, and puzzled at my ruthless persistence.

"Because I need to get laid, Edward!" He yells, bluntly.

"Isn't that what you've been doing for the last two weeks?" I snarl in reply.

Where did that come from? Jealous much?

Jumping into the boat, he doesn't humor me with a response. I'm not able to board, since his own landing rocks the boat hard in the thick murky water.

He's latched onto the rope, about to pull it free, but I clutch at his hands. "Please, Jasper," I beseech. "Let me come with you. I promise, if you find what you're looking for, I won't stand in your way."

I just pray that if it comes down to that, I'll be the one he wants. "Please."

He stares at our hands, my fingers woven in between his, gripping so tightly my fingers are neon white in the stark black night.

It seems like long minutes pass by before he finally relents, "Let's go."

Those are the only words spoken while we're in the stillness of the lush surroundings.

But it's okay, because I'm forming my plan of attack, figuring out how I can get Jasper to see me as the one he wants to be with.

I will not lie down in my bed even one more night wondering…what if.

So, it's the dreaded transitional chapter. I know you're probably not thrilled, but I hope you at least understand why it had to be done. There was no way Ed was ready for a relationship before this chapter. The next chapter is the halfway point of this fic, and the momentum will definitely be picking up. The next chapter so happens to be my favorite. Be nice, and I won't make you wait a week for it.

They're on their way back to Sinner's Island so anything can happen. Got any guesses on how long it will take Jas to capsize?

Important! On another note, I have off the week of Thanksgiving and a whole month in December from school. I mentioned earlier that during that time I'd like to get to one or more of my other WIP's DONE. I know which one I'd like to work on, but I'm going to let you guys decide. It matters, because if I'm being realistic I'll probably only get to one of these while I'm on break, and I don't have a date in mind that I'll be able to work on the rest. So, if you read any of my other stuff and you have an opinion, please fill in the blank in either a review or a PM:

Just fucking finish _ already. (Insert one of the following WIP's: (BM) Burnt Marshmallows, (FF) Finding Forgiveness (J/B), (LS) Love at First Sight, or (XG) The X Games.)

This will give me time to reread the story, dust off my notes, and start thinking about the details before my break begins. I'll let you know next chapter what fic you selected.