AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your amazing reviews! I'd intended on taking a few more days to write this chapter, but after everyone's demands to "update immediately," I found myself writing anyway. Also, I was going to split it in half, and take a little more time to write the next chapter, but this is really one linear scene, in many respects, so I've decided to inflict all 4700 words on you at once. Not that any of you are complaining.

As I posted on , this story is really about delayed gratification. So for everyone's questions about what happened and what will happen, it's a waiting game. Though with the speed I'm writing this, it'll probably be sooner rather than later.

I've also included some links in my profile to the outfit Rosalie wore on the first day. Just so you all can get a good visual.

Thanks to my excellent beta, Tamelaine!

And as always. . .these characters do not belong to me, they are the property of Stephenie Meyer and please R & R!!

RPOV

As soon as I came home that first day, I planned my wardrobe like I was a general going on a campaign. I rued the cold rainy weather of Washington, which made it impossible to wear skirts. Alice often ventured the opinion that it was the weather alone that saved the Forks emergency room from having to resuscitate any number of men who had the image of my legs burned into their brains.

But that was just like the male sex, mindlessly adoring without once even attempting to see what was underneath the sex kitten smile and mane of golden hair.

So skirts were obviously out. After hours of going through my extensive closet and an Alice consultation, I finally decided on a pair of form fitting black skinny jeans, and a beautiful deep purple silk tunic. The color made my skin and hair glow and I swore to myself that Emmett wouldn't know what hit him.

The next day, I practically floated into school, barely even hearing the excited gossip about the new Cullen brothers. There was no point in listening anyway. I only cared about Emmett, and no matter how much the other girls gossiped about him, there was no way they could possibly win him. He was mine, just as if I'd stamped "property of Rosalie" on his shapely and swoon-inducing butt. And I was sure as hell not going to share.

By lunch, a thread of worry was working its way through my head. I knew how incredible I looked. The boys of Forks High School hadn't taken their eyes off me since I'd waltzed in the door that morning. Yet, Emmett hadn't once glanced my direction, and I'd given him enough opportunities that his lack of interest was galling.

Mike Newton tried to approach me in the cafeteria, and I took great pride in shutting him down as loudly and clearly as possible. Not that it mattered much; Newton was infatuated with me and no amount of put downs seemed to change that. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Emmett was watching us, and when Mike stalked away, temporarily disenchanted with my bitchy yet gorgeous self, I thought I saw him chuckle, but he turned away before I could be sure.

I promptly went into the bathroom and swore for about a minute straight.

The next day, I risked hypothermia and wore the cutest dress I owned. Every male in the school helplessly gawked except for the only one I cared about gawking. Emmett remained resolutely immune to my presence. I was so close to throttling him that Alice had to talk me down, reminding me that kicking his ass probably wouldn't make him like me anymore. I added petulantly that it didn't appear that he liked me at all to begin with. She only shook her head and laughed at me, somewhat patronizingly. My annoyance grew.

By day three, I felt like I was in agony. Every conquest I'd ever made seemed to pale in comparison to the one man I couldn't impress. By this point I was intently listening to every scrap of gossip about the Cullen brothers, and while most of it seemed to be of the awestruck variety, one or two of the more perceptive girls had noticed Emmett's abstaining vote in the Rosalie Hale fan club. They had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he must be a member of the pink fairy princess club instead.

Despite how good a balm this would be to my wounded pride, there was no way I could really believe Emmett was gay. The interest during our first meeting had lit up his beautiful eyes and the man practically dripped testosterone. I'd even heard that he was a lacrosse player. No, there was no way he could possibly be gay. The only conclusion I could really come to was that blond hair, blue eyes and a body that could make Gisele Bundchen weep just wasn't his type of thing.

By the end of the third day, I was definitely still angry, but a little more resigned. I'd dressed down today, part of me no longer caring, and as I walked to my car after school, I thought that maybe I could wear him down over time. Maybe the glamazon I'd been the last two days just hadn't appealed to him. I could try another tactic. I could figure out exactly what made him tick and then fill that niche for him.

Having a plan made me feel a little better. Tomorrow I could start gathering intel. At least, I tried thinking optimistically, I'd learned one way that you couldn't storm Emmett Cullen's defenses.

I always parked in the back of the parking lot, to protect the one possession I cared about more than even my favorite Jimmy Choo heels.

My beautiful bright blue VW R32 glistened, even with a lack of sunshine hitting it. I gasped. Marring the elegantly sexy lines was Emmett Cullen, leaning against my baby, probably scratching the paint.

How dare he? How had he even known which one was mine? Not that it mattered. He was going to get dismissed immediately, I thought, hot body or no. You didn't get ignore me for three days running then decide to touch my car.

I stomped up, and any anger that had dissipated over the last few days was back, and had increased exponentially.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I crossed my arms over my chest, and gave him a glare that had sent many weaker men running for cover.

My outright annoyance didn't even seem to register. Emmett uncoiled himself gradually, and more gracefully than I could have imagined, from the door of my car, and for the first time since that first day, gave me a long leisurely look from head to toe.

Raising one gold eyebrow questioningly, I boldly looked back. It was my first really good look at him, with enough time to really examine his features without having to worry about being caught in the act red-handed.

God, he was handsome. Dark hair, with just a bit of a crisp wave to it, that looked like he had just rolled out of bed. The most amazing blue eyes that seemed to reach right into my soul and grab it. His features were a bit rough looking, but considering the rest of his large muscled form, anything more chiseled would have looked out of place.

He sent a dazzling smile in my direction and I realized that his grin could easily rival mine for sheer magnetism.

I felt my insides melting just a little bit again, and inwardly, I cursed. It was not fair that someone whose attractions were so manifold was so obviously uninterested in me.

"You should be nicer to Newton, you know." His voice chided, and my resentment grew.

"Why?" I replied belligerently.

He was by my side so fast that he was nearly on top of me before I realized he'd even moved. "Because," he said, helplessly pinning me down with his eyes, "it's just not fair to dazzle us all then not play nice." His voice was low and I almost shivered.

I supposed it was par for the course that I couldn't find my voice when he was that close. Even worse, he seemed to know it.

Laughing, Emmett moved back toward the car. "Give me a ride."

I really wanted to say no. I didn't take too well to ultimatums. I also really wanted to say yes. Why was nothing concerning him easy? Maybe if it was easier, I could actually force words out of my mouth.

"Edward and Jasper have already left," he pointed out, gesturing to a late model silver Volvo pulling out of the lot, "so unless you want to strand me?"

I knew then I was beaten. But only temporarily, I reminded myself. He had won one battle. He hadn't won the war.

As gracefully as I could, I nodded and fished the keys out of my purse.

He climbed in, looking huge in the small interior of the car.

"Comfortable?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"Very." Emmett paused, like he was considering adding to this, then he kept going, "I've been admiring this car since we moved here. I wondered who would be smart enough to buy an R32. When Newton told me it was yours, I realized that I should have known."

I considered this a compliment of the highest order. And it gave me a little insight into the brain working behind those gorgeous blue eyes.

"You like cars, then?"

"I'd say so."

"Then why was Edward driving?"

He laughed, the sound filling the car and spilling out the open windows. For Forks, it was almost a nice day, nearly sixty degrees and not one drop of precipitation in sight.

"You know, you have the sharpest, most adorable claws. I loved watching you try to get my attention the last couple of days."

I felt my heart race at his words, in excitement or anger, I wasn't quite sure. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, we like to keep a low profile. Unlike some people." Emmett slanted a very pointed look over in my direction, and I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me.

"At least I don't drive a Volvo."

"Touché. Edward's young and his taste isn't quite developed yet. It'll improve. But I think you'd be impressed with mine"

"Cocky, aren't we?" He didn't reply, only smiled at me so broadly that my insides were in serious danger of turning to mush.

I decided to change tactics. "So where do you live?" I tried to ask as casually as possible. He knew he'd thrown me for a loop but he didn't have to know that he continued to do it every time he opened his mouth or even looked at me.

He gave me directions to a large white house just outside of the town. We traveled in silence and he seemed to really enjoy the growl of the engine. Maybe almost as much as I did.

The Volvo was parked on the circular driveway that curved in front of the house. Instead of directing me to park beside it, Emmett instead told me to drive around to the back.

There was a large warehouse-like building behind the house, to the side of the yard. I stopped in front of it, and Emmett gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. It was as if he were trying to decide exactly what kind of creature I was. If I could be trusted.

"You want to see?" Apparently, I'd passed whatever test he'd decided to give me.

"Of course," I told him, not even bothering to try to hide my curiosity and eagerness. He already must know how I felt, and it would be foolish to try to pretend I wasn't dying to see what was inside.

We got out of the car, and when I started to take my purse out, Emmett shook his head.

"You're not going to want to take that inside. As it is, you're probably overdressed."

"Overdressed?" I could only gape at him. I was wearing black track pants, and a plain white t shirt.

"All that white," he gestured at my shirt. "You're going to get dirty and I can't imagine that you'd be too happy about that."

Emmett paused for a moment, clearly deciding to do something, then without any warning for my poor heart, he peeled off his navy t shirt, leaving only the white wife beater behind.

I couldn't help it. I gawked. His arms were corded with muscle, and the old wife beater was nearly sheer, leaving me with no doubt that he had at least a six pack. I knew my jaw had dropped, I could sense he was laughing at me, but I couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Here," he said. "Take this." He held out the shirt to me, and his look was a dare. I put it on as quickly as possible and shook out my hair. I was only mildly gratified to see that he looked about as shell-shocked in that moment as I'd looked earlier. Apparently he did have a thing for blond hair.

I could feel the warmth of his body still in the fabric, and it smelled amazing. I didn't care if the shirt was huge on me and completely hid my figure. I never wanted to take it off.

"Don't you have something to put that in?" He gestured to my hair. "It's distracting."

"My hair is distracting?" I said coyly. Two, I thought with relish, can play this game.

"Yes." I thought I heard him mumble, "you have no idea."

Pulling a hair band out of my purse, I pulled my hair into a quick ponytail and gave him a smile. "All ready. Is there a mud pit inside, or something?"

"Oh no. I just don't want to mess you. . .you look. . .well. . .you know how you look." For the first time since our meeting Emmett seemed at a loss for words. A little bit of the anger I'd held inside of me began to dissipate.

"Okay, well then what are we waiting for?" I said impatiently.

Emmett opened the door to the shop and I followed him in. It was dark, and I heard him searching for the light switch, but before he could find it, I knew what this was. I'd known the second he'd opened the door. It had a distinctive smell. Oil, grease, and steel.

Then the light flickered on and I couldn't hold back my gasp.

Despite how big the building looked from the outside, I still couldn't believe how big it was from the inside. There were husks of several different cars, all expensive, scattered throughout the garage. While dirty, like Emmett had warned me, and a bit disorganized, it was clearly the workspace of a master mechanic. I'd always loved cars and working on them to improve their performance, but this was clearly a space for someone for whom cars were a passion.

I turned to look at Emmett, who was nearly bouncing up and down in anticipation of my reaction. He managed to look so much like Alice, possibly my favorite person in the whole world, and yet so much like himself, I wanted to hold him close and never let him go.

"It's amazing," I managed. "You have so many tools, resources. . ." I trailed off, trying not to let my envy show.

"Yeah, we do. We're very lucky, really. I knew you'd probably be one of the few people in this godforsaken town that could truly appreciate it, as soon as I found out that the R32 belonged to you."

"We're?"

"My brothers and I. Edward and Jasper. You haven't met them, have you?" Emmett's face grew slightly distrustful and I knew what he was worried about. Was I just interested in conquering every male in Forks, or was I interested in only him?

That was the easiest question on earth. Of course, four days ago, I would have said that I was definitely interested in reducing every male in Forks to a blathering, adoring slave. But after meeting Emmett, I could honestly say that this goal had been abandoned in favor of impressing his handsome self.

If his brothers looked anything like him he would have been very right to worry three days ago. Naturally, I'd been so intent on getting his attention I didn't even remember seeing the other two Cullen brothers. But by this point the die had been cast. Emmett Cullen seemed to be the specific key to my lock, so to speak, and it wouldn't even matter if Edward or Jasper were better looking. Though I seriously doubted that was possible, as I gazed almost helplessly at his gorgeously muscled back.

I realized then that he was talking to me, trying to get me to follow him to one of the torn apart cars. Shaking my head to clear it of all the things I'd like to do to him in the future, I picked my way through the debris on the floor as I followed him. Emmett had been right: it was dirty, but I hardly cared at that point. He could have asked me to wade through some nasty, infested swamp and I probably would have followed.

Emmett stopped in front of the car and turned to me, obviously waiting for me to be impressed. It took me a good second, but when I realized what it was, I couldn't hold back the squeal of delight, no matter how childish it sounded.

"Oh my god! It's a Supra." I circled the car, all debris on the floor forgotten.

"Yep. I'm going to do unholy things with this baby," Emmett told me in a gleefully conspiratorial voice.

"I hated it when that stupid Fast and Furious movie came out and everyone jumped on the Supra bandwagon without realizing what it was that made this car so amazing," I said, almost without thinking. It had been so long since I was able to indulge my love of fast cars with someone else. And to have that person be Emmett; I felt positively drunk on the possibilities.

Two hours later, I was covered in grime from head to toe and it would have been incredibly obvious if I hadn't borrowed Emmett's shirt and my pants weren't black already. I'm sure my face was sweaty, and I didn't even want to contemplate the state of my hair, but for the first time since I'd looked in the mirror and realized the ramifications of my beauty, I didn't care.

Emmett didn't seem to care either. He had a carefree enthusiasm that made you want to jump into his latest project and enjoy it just as much he was. And when the project involved an incredible 1997 Toyota Supra, it was impossible for me not to be completely sucked in.

In fact, it had become rapidly obvious that he didn't care that I'd sweated off the makeup I'd put on that morning, or that my hair was likely a frizzy mess. We talked like equals, he actually listened and biggest surprise of all, he considered my opinion as if it came from one of his brothers or a friend. I'd never been treated so nonchalantly, and I loved it.

Watching him work a particularly stubborn bolt, his muscles flexing under the wife beater, I knew that while I admired how damn pretty he was, I liked his personality even better. And truthfully, that scared the living crap out of me. I'd never been emotionally involved this deep before, and we had barely met. I'd spent two hours in Emmett's presence and every cell in my body felt imprinted by him.

He caught me staring at him and I blushed. Smiling slyly at me, he said, "so have you figured out why I avoided you?"

Add to his list of manifold attractions that he was painfully honest.

"Well, no. . ." I stammered. I could hardly say that I'd thought he was either immune to my charms or gay. Number one option was obviously not true. Number two option was so dreadful by this point that if I found out he was, I didn't know what I'd do.

Emmett set down his wrench and walked way too close to me. I was sure he could hear my heart beating its way out of my chest. I tilted my head up toward his anyway and rejoiced in the pitter-patter lightheadedness he conjured in me. Even covered in dirt and sweat, I'd never felt more beautiful than in that moment, with his eyes gazing so intently into mine.

"You were so gorgeous, like a fantasy come to life," his voice was even lower than normal, and so quiet I could barely hear it over my heartbeat. "I was afraid that if I let you catch me too quickly, you'd lose interest, like you've probably done with a million different guys. I wanted you to try and fail. I wanted to be different for you."

I gaped and felt my knees turn to jello.

"You thought that I would lose interest? Have you ever looked in a mirror?"

"Of course," he dismissed, turning away and making me want to grab him and drag him back to my side. "But I thought we might have something other than being two very pretty people and I wanted to see if I was right. If I'd slobbered after you in those incredible tight black pants like I wanted to, you'd know I had no interest in what was underneath that gorgeous head of hair."

"Normal guys don't talk this way." I decided that if he was being brutally honest, I could at least meet him halfway.

"Nope. But then they don't have a mother like Esme Cullen." The expression on his face made me melt a little more inside. A guy who truly loved his mother, and looked better than David Beckham? Was the rest of the female sex too blind to snap up this incredible prize of a man?

Emmett must have read my thoughts on my face, and he laughed. It was a big hearty laugh, full of personality and joy. "Rose, Rose, Rose. You have to know how picky I am."

He was picky? What did that mean? Was it possible that I didn't meet whatever requirements he had in mind? All my vaunted prickly independence fell by the wayside. I would do whatever it took to be whatever he wanted, I vowed.

"Oh?" I didn't know what else to say. That I would gladly sign my life away to just spend more time with him?

"Silly Rosalie." He walked over again and my heart started pounding again. I should really have that checked out.

"Now that you mention it though, there is one thing I'll need." Emmett wiped his dirty hands on what could only have been a dirtier rag. He put the wrench away and I knew that our time was drawing to an end. Except that I was like an addict. I wanted more.

I simply raised my eyebrow in question and waited for him to continue. He put the rest of the tools away, made sure I'd made it to the door, and then switched the light off.

I took a deep breath of the fresh mountainous Forks air and tried to clear my fuzzy mind. I walked over to my car, knowing it was high time I went, yet still trying to prolong my stay as long as possible.

After closing the door, he came over to stand by the car with me. And just as suddenly as before, he was way too close. His eyes were serious, unreadable pools of dark blue and I just waited. I wanted him to kiss me more than I'd ever wanted anything before. I was practically panting with the need to feel his lips on mine. It would be, I decided, my first real kiss. More than any of those others that had been so completely and utterly meaningless. But he had to take the first step. I steadfastly forced myself not to use a single trick in my possession. This had to be all him and not any of my witchiness, remembering what he'd said about me and all my slaves around Forks.

Achingly slowly, he raised his large hand to my forehead and slowly pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail. His skin was remarkably soft, despite the obvious strength of his hands, and I nearly trembled. Finally, his hand came to rest on my cheek and he cupped it gently, letting his fingers stroke my skin slightly. The shivering butterflies in my stomach grew stronger and my eyes slowly drifted closed.

"Rosalie," he murmured.

"Yes?" I answered with anticipation, halfway expecting to feel his lips on mine any moment now.

His voice drifted closer to my ear. "You have my shirt." I could practically feel his lips on my ear, and I nearly purred. That is, until it dawned on me what he'd said.

"That's what you want?" I choked out as I jumped back, away from him and the mesmerizing blinding spell that he always seemed to cast on me.

He only smiled and looked like the cat who had just stolen the cream.

I gave a strangled shriek and tore the shirt off me, not even caring if I got any of the dirty grease stains on my face or hair. I threw it at him and seriously considered throwing a hissy fit too. He was . . .beyond impossible. I'd been so obvious, even if I'd tried not to. I couldn't help myself around him, it seemed.

Emmett laughed again. "Of course. What else would I want from you?"

Personally, I could think of a few things, and I had barely touched the surface. But most of them weren't nice enough to mention in polite company, especially when you were infuriated with the other participant in your fantasies.

I wished I had something else to throw at him, but I'd run out of ammunition. So instead, I fired a parting shot across the bow. "As if I would want to give you anything else, " I remarked scornfully, opening my door, and starting to get into the car.

But before I could, he pulled me into his arms rather roughly, and kissed me.

He wasn't exactly gentle, but the electricity that shot through my veins more than made up for it. It was short and not exactly sweet, but I had to admit his parting shot was better than mine.

"You so sure about that?" He taunted me cockily, and if I hadn't been so woozy, I would have considered slapping him.

There was really nothing more I can say. In fact, I didn't trust myself not to beg him to do it again and take more time while he was at it.

So I got into the car, and beamed at him through the open window. I don't think I could have stopped smiling even for a Prada bag.

"Drive safe," he said, and I was gratified to note that neither his voice or his hands were exactly steady.

"Of course," I replied, noting that he had said nothing about driving slowly. He knew me better than that.

As I drove back to town, I was already feeling the pang of separation and I berated myself for falling so easily for the man. I had no reason to trust him, or his motives, or his way too sexy smile. But for the first time in my life, I couldn't bring myself to care about any of those things.

I pulled into the driveway of the house, and I hadn't even made it out of the car before the door banged open.

"Rosalie Hale, where the hell have you been?" I'd have known Alice's voice anywhere, and sure enough, her small dark form came bouncing out of the front door before I could gather my wits together enough to fool her.

She stopped dead in her tracks with her tiny hands on her slim hips. "Oh, Rose. Rose. You are the craziest, most insane woman. Emmet Cullen?" And I could still only grin like the nutcase she accused me of being.

Suddenly, her face softened and she pulled me in for a big hug, her head only coming up to my chin. "I'm so happy for you, " she said, "now when are you going to tell me the whole story?"