When You Least Expect It

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the reviews! I'm only two reviews short of 150! So I sped through this, and although it's shorter than what I usually put out, I just had to do this…even though I'm sure it will leave you wanting more. Hahaha enjoy!

Disclaimer: It's not mine.


Call Him

Rosalie's POV

"You did what?" I asked, a surprised edge in my tone underlined the utter disbelief at what I'd just heard.

"I ruined things with him."

I looked past the monitor of my desktop and watched as he sifted through a few files I'd asked him to go through and organize. His body language was giving me a very depressed, tired vibe right now—from the slumped shoulders to the frown pulling the corners of his lips, and even the way his eyes seemed a bit dimmed today. I'd waited a bit before finally just breaking down and asking him what had him looking like someone kicked his dog, and bam! That's the response I get.

"Like…on purpose?" I ask, trying to get some clarity out of the vague answer, "Because the date was awful, or…like on accident—you did something and he just couldn't wait to get out?"

He stayed quiet for so long, simply organizing the files, that I assumed he wasn't going to answer me and went back to running through the finances and what not on the desktop. I wasn't going to push him into talking about something he didn't want to talk about. Obviously the wound was still fresh and…aw fuck it. I can't even convince myself that I'm not itching to know every detail about last night.

"That bad, huh?" I egged him on and waited.

And that seemed to be all it took as I was now listening to an intense and fast-paced retelling of the entire date—from the gifts the guy had brought for his kids, to the steamy make out session in the kitchen and then the fact that the doctor had even spent the night. And then the story went from happy go lucky and romantic to a totally whatthefuck moment as he told me how he'd treated the man this morning. He went on to explain, in vague detail mind you, that there were things that he and the twins had gone through that he'd rather really just avoid. It was the main source of all his hesitations and doubts when it came to this guy. Plus he didn't have only himself to think about—the kids were a big part of his life and he didn't need someone running in and out of their lives; Paul needed a reliable man that promised stability. That much was easy enough to figure out.

"I want to be with him Rosalie, really I do." He admits solemnly, "I just can't put my family into the position where they'll get hurt because I misjudged somebody."

The rest of the day was spent in silence. Paul had a full schedule and was running in and out of the office between clients, leaving me to get a hang of the business while my mind raced with ideas of ways to help or at least things to say to encourage him to take the plunge and trust the guy—but I knew I couldn't really do the latter as I didn't fully understand his situation, not like I was much of a stay-in-the-background kind of person anyway.

It doesn't hit me until I'm turning off my computer, getting ready to leave. And just like that, I have a plan.

Ten minutes on Google, and a thirty minute drive later and I'm asking the young girl behind the reception desk if the doctor—who is actually Dr. Jacob Black, as luck would have it—would see my Yorkie, the little guy was all excited to get out of the house.

A few minutes later and I turn to watch as a tall and well-built man walks into the exam room. Well, at least I know I'm working to get Paul back to a looker.

"Hello Ms. Hale, how are you this evening?" He asks in a deep, sultry tone with a smile and an extended hand.

With a small smile of my own, I let our hands meet, "Please, call me Rosalie."

"Alright, and who's this little one here?" He asks, scratching Baby on his head.

"That's Baby, but it really doesn't matter." I say, deciding to use a direct approach that has him looking at me with a questioning look. "I don't believe in beating around the bush, Dr. Black, so I'll get straight to the point."

"I'm sorry, I really have no-"

He stops when I raise my hand in a slight dismissive manner and fix him with a steely serious gaze, "Call him." I say the words with so much emphasis that one could practically see the words coming out of my mouth. "Paul's scared. All he really needs is that little push, one small gesture to show that you actually do care what happens and that you want something out of what it is you guys started. Let him know how you feel and have him tell you how he feels. If you really want to be with him like I know he does want to be with you, then you won't let this small bump in the road stop you. And if you don't think it's your place to fight for him, then you sure as hell don't deserve to be involved in his or his kids' lives."

We stood in silence—me giving him the same serious stare as he stood, eyes shifting in concentration as he went through the information I'd just told him. When I feel I've glared at him for long enough, I reach over and clip Baby's leash to his collar before setting him down on the floor, but just as I was about to pull the door open, he stops me with a question.

"How do you know he wants to be with me?"

I spare one look over my shoulder and see that he has his back to me, his form having gone a bit tense, his voice tight.

"Because he told me so himself." Is all I say before I'm on my way out of the building.


Jacob's POV

I spend the best part of two hours debating whether or not to cave into the burning temptation I've felt to call Paul. I've wondered all day how he was doing, what he's been up to and what his day has been like, if it's been has bad and restless as my own.

The woman, Rosalie Hale, obviously knew what she was talking about…or at least that's how it seemed. I was sure she knew Paul from somewhere, but obviously he'd expressed his feelings about me to her so I'd figured she knew what she was talking about when she came around giving me advice—or at least I think it was advice. Lord only knew what she considered it to be.

Another thing that had me hesitating was Rachel's silence. Does she know? Should I call and ask her advice on the situation? If she knew she'd have called or gotten a hold of me at some point throughout the day, right? The fact that she hasn't could mean one of two things: she hasn't found out what has happened and is spending all her time trying to get the truth out of Paul, or she did in fact know and she was so furious at the two of us—or just me in particular—that she can't even fathom the thought of talking to me to get my side of the story. Honestly, knowing my sister, the latter seems to be more believable to me.

And then of course there was the thought that Paul wouldn't even answer my call, or worse yet, answer and then end up turning me down and making me feel like a jackass for even trying to call and reconcile when he had no intentions of giving me a shot in the first place.

It was really just putting me on edge as I really did want to cave in and call him, even if he does shoot me down because at least then I know that whatever it is that we shared is over. But finally, after watching the last bit of a Law & Order: SVU rerun, I decide to call him. My cell phone had been sitting on the coffee table next to the, now empty, beer bottle in front of me. I pick it up and immediately dial the number that I've already had committed to memory, but don't press the send button just yet.

Then I push the button and there's no going back. I hold the phone up to my ear and slouch back into the cushions of the couch, both praying that he won't answer, and hoping to death that he will. My heart's pounding as I take deep breaths and run my free hand down my face and hold I over my mouth as I listen to the ringing on the other line.

I wonder if he recognizes my number—if not has it saved in his contacts—and is having the same inner battle that I am over talking to him.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, though, the ringing stops.

"Hello?" His voice sounds through the phone, soft and curious; I can almost hear the traces of laughter in it and wonder what made him sound this way.

"Hey Babe…it's me."


A/N: Aha, good? Great? Amazing? Why don't you leave a review and let me know what you think!

Notoriously Yours,

GoinnGaGa