AN: I was not kidding about the writing demon thing. . .cause we've got another chapter! Thanks to my emergency holiday beta, JDSK. Songs are up on my profile. HOLY SHIIIIITE. ONLY ONE CHAPTER TO GO AFTER THIS!

JPOV

The morning after the reunion between Rose and Emmett I couldn't put off the inevitable anymore.

I stared at the coffeemaker on the counter, ignoring the mantra that a watched pot never boils, and waited for the coffee to finish brewing so I could work up enough nerve to ask Rosalie where Alice was.

It was my last, desperate Hail Mary, and if she wouldn't tell me, who knew if I would even see Alice again and though I'd spent so many years trying to convince myself that she wasn't for me, the last two weeks had taught me that regardless of this fact, I couldn't live without her.

I had to go find her. But really, I had no idea where to even look. I knew she had money, and that she could probably work indefinitely from a remote location. If she choose, she could stay away for months. I hated the thought that I'd driven her away and I'd hated the look on her face when she'd told me she loved me.

I still wasn't sure if she'd even meant it—it had seemed so much more like her last Hail Mary and some sort of proving ground than a genuine confession—that I'd stayed up late every night, unable to sleep, analyzing and overanalyzing every nuance of that last conversation.

And every time, I came short.

It didn't matter if her confession of love was manufactured and an attempt to get to my true feelings. I was the one to blame. I should have known my own heart. Instead, I'd been too busy being afraid and doing everything in my power to prove that I hadn't fallen under her spell a long, long time ago.

I heard Emmett and Rosalie walk into the kitchen, their voices low with shared confidences and impenetrable and permanent love. Jealousy rose in my throat until I could barely choke out the question.

"Rose, where's Alice?"

I couldn't see her, but I could almost sense her stop dead in her tracks halfway into the kitchen. Emmett stopped beside her, and I knew that he wouldn't take one step until she took one. They were a perfectly in-sync couple, and as always, I felt like the odd one out. In fact, I realized with a newfound wonder, the only time I'd ever felt really, truly, at home after a childhood of being yanked from foster home to foster home, had been when I was with Alice.

"Why do you want to know?" Rose's voice was calm but deadly. Edward had confided to me wonderingly after he'd returned from seeing her last night that she had been angry, but not viciously so.

This was a Rosalie, I thought as I turned around, that Edward hadn't seen. She was out for blood, because I had dared to hurt someone she loved.

I looked straight into her angry, wary eyes and told the truth—the truth I'd spent years trying to hide from everyone, even myself.

"I love her. I want to go find her and bring her home. To be with me."

The words in themselves were simple enough. I could only hope that Rose would believe me.

Emmett's expression was blank, and I knew he would refuse to get involved. The location of Alice was for Rosalie and Rosalie alone to divulge.

She pondered a minute, and finally replied. "I don't know, Jasper. Are you going to go to all these lengths to get her back only to decide you don't want her after all?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not."

Unfortunately, she didn't look convinced. My heart dropped into my stomach and then plummeted to the floor when she said, "I'm sorry, Jasper. It just doesn't feel like my place to get involved."

I felt like I'd just had the wind knocked out of me. Pain was bubbling up inside of me, and I couldn't get my breath.

The idea that I might be groveling never even crossed my mind. It was as if with the realization that I loved Alice, I had also decided subconsciously that I would do anything to get her back—anything to make sure she was mine, forever.

"Please," I begged. "Please tell me. I know that I'm not good enough—how could I ever be good enough for Alice? But at least give me the opportunity to try."

I saw Emmett's eyes widen at my words, and I knew that he'd never seen anything remotely like this in all his years of being my brother. But masculine pride was totally unimportant in the face of the monumental task of getting the woman I loved back.

The corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. I hoped to God that she wasn't feeling sorry for me. I could take pretty much any abuse except for that.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she asked, a thread of surprise running through her voice.

"Of course," I replied shortly, almost annoyed that my intentions weren't being taken seriously.

She sighed. "It's hard to tell with you sometimes, Jasper. You seemed to like Alice in high school, but then dropped her when Emmett and I stopped talking. You pursued her and won her this time around, but it was different. She wasn't always as happy as she should have been. It was almost as if she expected you to let her down."

I hated that Rosalie was right. I'd been inexcusably wimpy and pitiful when it came to Alice—unable to stay away but at the same time, unable to truly commit to my feelings for her.

"You're right," I told her, humbled. "About everything. I haven't behaved like I should have where Alice is concerned, but I've got to make it up to her. I need to prove to her that I love her, that I want to turn over a new leaf." I tried to put the passion of my convictions into my voice, but to my abject despair, she just shook her head slightly again.

"Sorry," she said, and this time she was definitely feeling sorry for me. "I just . . .I can't open up my sister to the kind of pain you caused her twice before."

This was exactly what I'd been afraid of. I wasn't even going to be given a chance to let Alice reject me. No. I'd been rejected before I could even make it to that point. My head dropped down and I stared at the pattern of the tile on the floor. Uncomfortable silence enveloped the kitchen.

I counted every red tile, then every blue tile and was in the middle of multiplying the ratio when Rose spoke again.

"Does it matter that much to you?"

I looked up. "It means everything," I told her.

"Alice is going to kill me for this. . .but . . .," Rosalie paused. "She's at the beach house."

"The beach house?" I gaped. "I thought that was a rental?"

"It's not. She owns it." Rosalie walked up to me and looked me straight on, her blue eyes boring into mine. "I swear, if you hurt one molecule of her, I will dismantle you personally."

"Yes, I know. And I won't. I promise."

"Good," Rosalie snapped, obviously still trying to scare me. "Make sure you don't. Are you going to go today?"

"Of course," I said, never having considered any other possibility. The moment I could go to Alice, naturally, I would. The only thing that had been stopping me had been that pesky lack of knowledge as to her current whereabouts.

"Even better. Tell her to come home. I miss her." Rosalie smiled big, and I felt like I'd just been given a boon of priceless value. She trusted me enough to want me to bring her sister home. I beamed in response.

"Will do." I turned back toward the coffeemaker. If it had been moving slowly before, now it was moving at an excruciating pace. I needed coffee before I could set off for Cannon Beach, and I hated anything that could possibly delay me.

Finally, travel mug in hand, I was about to head out of the kitchen, when Rosalie's voice stopped me. "Jasper, you should expect to be there a few days. Bring a change of clothes."

"Seriously?" I questioned, turning back towards her. "Don't you think she'll be happy to see me?"

Rosalie laughed. "Oh, she will alright. But she won't let you know it. She'll leave you hanging until you're just about ready to leave all over again. But wait her out. She loves you. She just wants some sort of concrete proof and to get it, she'll try to outmaneuver you."

"Thanks. . .I think," I said, wondering if this was no longer going to be as neat and easy as I'd been anticipating.

"You'll be fine," Rosalie told me with all the comfort of someone who already had the love of their life in their pocket.

But her words had unnerved me and I was no longer sure of my own success.

The drive to Cannon Beach flew by, and I arrived in the driveway of Alice's bungalow before I was really ready. Truthfully, I was scared shitless. Both of the possibility of Rose's prediction being true and also of Alice's rejection.

She had seemed, the more I thought about it, a little more than eager to jump on the least excuse to tell me to leave. I dreaded that I'd imagined her feelings for me.

Hesitantly, I got out of the car, got my bag out of the backseat, and walked up to the porch. There was a blue sky overhead and a nice salty breeze wafted through the air. The location couldn't have been more perfect. I couldn't believe that I hadn't picked up that the house belonged to Alice sooner. She had taken a rather proprietary air about it while we were here, but I'd never asked and she'd obviously never volunteered the information that she, in fact, did own it.

I had to admit I was more than a little disgruntled at this deliberate omission of hers. It was almost as if she had been protecting herself from me—and, well, I supposed I couldn't blame her. I hadn't been the most supportive or straightforward of partners.

Knocking on the door, I noted that her car was pulled all the way around the back, like she was trying to hide from the neighborhood that she was here.

Five minutes later, after spending a good portion of that time banging on the door like an insane person, I was beginning to think that maybe Rosalie hadn't been wrong. Maybe Alice was going to make me work for this.

"What are you doing here?"

I whipped around and she was standing at the foot of the porch steps, looking at me like I'd just showed up at her doorstep straight from the hell with a million demons at my back.

A feeling of dread was beginning to build inside. This wasn't the happy reunion I'd been envisioning. Instead, she looked ready to murder me.

"Uh. . .I'm here to see you?"

Great answer, Jasper. Fantastic. Really enlightening.

She raised one eyebrow, clearly thinking along the same lines.

I decided to try another, more confident, tactic. "I'm here to bring you home."

Unfortunately, she just laughed at that, skirting around me to unlock the door and then instead of inviting me in, she proceeded to slam it in my face.

"Great," I mumbled to myself, and renewed my banging on the door.

"Alice," I yelled, "please let me in."

Twenty minutes later, I was totally hoarse and desperately trying to retain any shred of dignity I had left.

Really, who was I kidding? There wasn't even a shred left.

Right when I was about to give up, get in my car, and try to come up with a Plan B, the door opened and Alice glared at me through the screen door.

"What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I want to talk to you. No," I corrected myself. "I need to talk to you."

"I can't possibly see why," Alice said, but I could sense the pain underneath her flippant words. Even through the screen, I could see there were dark circles under her eyes. She was clearly not sleeping.

"Please," I begged.

She hesitated for a second, and I knew she was fighting an internal battle with herself over whether she should let me in the house.

"Alice," I said, placing my hands on either side of the doorway and leaning as close to the screen as possible, until my nose was almost touching it, "I love you. Please let me in so we can talk."

APOV

He loved me?

I stared at his face through the screen door for a half-second, then slammed the door shut again and locked it loud enough so he could hear.

I certainly hadn't been expecting to see him battering on my door when I'd returned from a walk on the beach, and for a split second, every part of me wanted to run up to him and rejoice that he'd managed to find me.

But then I remembered that I didn't want him to find me. I needed time and space to get over him, and him being here didn't exactly facilitate that.

After listening to him yell and bang on the door for at least twenty minutes, I'd finally given in and gone to see what he wanted.

I'd been so close to letting him inside, but then he'd confessed his love, and everything in me had turned to hard, painful ice.

I knew Jasper had his pride and he wanted to be the one to do the dumping, but really, did it mean he had to come all the way out here only to try to bait me with false outpourings of love?

So I slammed the door in his face again, not letting myself see the look in his eyes in the last second before they disappeared from view.

I had to be strong here. I had to preserve my own sanity. If I let him in, I knew he'd win me over, and I couldn't let that happen.

Figuring he would only last, at most, an hour on the porch before he turned around and went home, I put my headphones on to drown out his knocking and yelling, and got out a sketchpad to work on a few new design ideas.

No matter how dire my personal situation, I could always manage to lose myself in my work, and this time was no exception. It was a good three hours later before I took the earbuds out, stretched and realized that the whole house was quiet.

I felt a sharp stab of disappointment but I told myself that really it was for the best that he'd finally left. I got up and cautiously walked towards the front of the house, worried that maybe he was really still here but just trying to lull me into submission with his silence.

Jasper was laying on the couch, sleeping.

I stopped in my tracks. He was clearly not sleeping hard because my sharp intake of breath woke him up.

"Alice," he mumbled, and I snapped, interrupting him. "What? You broke up into my house? I'm calling the police."

He sat straight up at my words and when I made a move toward the phone, he got up and followed me, trying to explain. "I climbed in through an unlocked window," he said, looking sheepishly guiltily.

"That's still breaking and entering," I argued, lifting the phone off the dock and beginning to dial.

He grabbed it away from me. "No," Jasper said, and his voice was stern though his eyes were warm. "You're not calling anyone. We're going to sit down like two normal, civilized people, and talk this out."

"I don't want to talk to you," I insisted, but I knew the conviction in my words was fading. I had never expected him to be this persistent and it was playing havoc with my preconceived notions.

"I don't care. We're going to talk anyway." He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the couch. I shivered when our skin touched and I tried to remember all the reasons why I didn't trust him. Truthfully, with every moment he insisted we talk, it was getting harder and harder to remember that he was the bad guy.

He led me to the chair opposite the couch and I sat down uneasily.

"What do you want to tell me?" I asked, beginning to feel like I was out of my element here. Everything Jasper had done so far had been totally unexpected. I hadn't the faintest idea what he wanted to tell me, other than some lies about being in love with me.

"I want to tell you about my childhood."

"Okay," I replied cautiously. "I don't see how it has anything to do with us, but if you want to talk about it, I'll listen." I'd always known, of course, that Jasper had been adopted by the Cullens, but he'd never wanted to talk about it, and I knew nothing about his life before he'd come to live with them. I knew it couldn't be good, but I wasn't expecting what I heard.

"My mom was a drug addict. My dad was in jail. So I got taken away by the state at. . .2? 3? And in the eight years before I was adopted by Carlisle and Esme, I went to twenty foster homes."

Whatever I had been expecting, this was so much worse. Twenty foster homes? He'd never felt safe or comfortable anywhere until he'd gone to live with the Cullens. I couldn't even fathom what that kind of childhood must have been like. No wonder he acted strange sometimes.

I was still trying to process what Jasper was saying, when he continued. "Of course, I felt at home with the Cullens—but it never felt like my home. But Alice," he said, reaching out to hold my hands with his own, "you were different. I felt relaxed and comfortable with you. I never wanted to let you go. But I didn't trust it—I couldn't let myself trust it. Because of all those times that I'd trusted and been let down before. So I convinced myself that what you weren't what I really wanted. What I needed."

"And that's why you behaved like you did?" I said, refusing to let my heart melt like it wanted to at his words.

"Yes."

I got up and started pacing, not at all sure what I felt and despite his confession, even less sure of what he felt.

"I don't know, Jasper. Maybe we've gone too far to go back."

"I love you," he said, and his heart was in his eyes. He certainly thought it was true, but whether it actually was remained to be seen. I knew I shouldn't test him, but I knew I had to. I'd never be able to fully trust him otherwise.

"No," I told him firmly. "You only want someone you're sure of. You know I love you. You know I'd do anything for you. You know I'd never leave you. So you've latched onto me as something safe. And you know what? I don't want to be your safe choice. I want to be the only choice."

"You really think that?" he said slowly. "You think that I only want you because I'm sure of you?"

I nodded. "I deserve better."

"I'm not going to argue with that. I've always thought you deserved better, but I can't live without you, so I'm going to be selfish and claim you for myself."

"What if I don't want to be claimed?"

He smiled crookedly. "You love me; why wouldn't you want to be?"

He had a good point, but I wasn't going to acknowledge it. I was still torn as to the validity of his confession of love.

"I can think of a few good reasons. . ."I began but he interrupted me before I could get to them.

"I love you," he said, "and not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends."

No, I felt like screaming at him. Don't ruin my very favorite quote in my very favorite movie ever. I justified not saying anything by deciding that he'd never make it all the way through.

But he continued. "And not in a misplaced affection, puppy dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple. Very truly." He certainly sounded sincere, and I could feel myself melting into a puddle at his feet—and I was no longer even trying to stop it.

"You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore."

Jasper looked straight into my eyes, and they were brimming with honesty. If I didn't know any better I would have thought that these words were from his heart—not from Chasing Amy.

And in that moment I knew that I'd let him finish, but he'd proved his point to me, once and for all. He loved me. He loved me enough to remember something I'd said in passing, and to memorize the quote. He loved me enough to brave Rose's wrath to figure out where I was. He loved me enough to find a way into my house when he thought I didn't want him. He loved me.

I blinked away a tear of joy and smiled at him. He continued, beaming, and pulling me close into his arms.

"And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome—which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shootdown."

Jasper looked down at me, and I let my lips brush his. "Keep going," I murmured. "I'm enjoying this."

"Okay. But for you, and only for you," he said after kissing me. "And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know—I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment. And if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds."

"Alice, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you. And I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau, because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me."

"Don't worry," I told him in between reassuring kisses. "I'm definitely going to talk to you after tonight."

"Really? I had no idea," he teased in a pseudo-hopeful voice. "Alice," he said, his tone growing more serious. "Really, I do love you."

"I love you too," I told him, settling into arms. I knew I'd never want to leave, and I had a pretty good feeling that he felt just the same. Finally.