AN: This is by far the longest chapter I've ever written, I hope you'll enjoy it!

Chapter 5: Confessions

I expected her to be distant again, or angry even, after our failed conversation last night. I didn't want to witness that, so I went to bed early.

I also didn't want to face her usually foul mood after returning from her boyfriend, the man she ran to after I scared her away. She probably has no trust issues with him, I think to myself. And again, I know I have myself to blame for losing her trust, even when she doesn't blame me.

But this morning, instead of avoiding me, she's being rather nice.

After having a late brunch with home made pancakes, we spend most of our Saturday together. She joins me for the soccer game in the afternoon. I introduce her as my roommate, and the manager Peter gave her a pass to watch the game with me from the player's box.

Once back in the apartment, we order pizza and have a lazy evening on the couch.

"No studying today?" I ask, knowing that she took an evening off yesterday.

"Nope, most classes are coming to an end. I'm focusing on finding a place for an internship."

"Any ideas?"

"Mm, I had an idea, but I'm not sure…" she says hesitantly.

"You could always give it a try. Where is it?"

"Well, I'm studying sports medicine, and there's this soccer team that might hire an intern." She gives me a pointed look.

"My team? Really? That would be so cool, you have to try. I'll put in a good word for you with Peter."

"No that's okay," she quickly objects, "like I said, I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Why? Because of me?"

She nods, "don't you think it would be weird?"

"What, you being there? Why would that be weird, it's not weird that you're here either," I say confused.

"It wouldn't be just me being there. I'd be working, you know, massaging…"

I understand now what she means.

"So? What are you afraid of? That I can't handle you touching me, or that you won't be able to resist me?" I smirk and to my surprise she blushes.

"I didn't say that," she mutters, "I just think it would be weird."

"Explain."

I shift my position on the couch so that I'm facing her, and I can tell she's feeling uncomfortable.

"I just notice some things in the way you look at me. Like you believe I'm special or something, and I don't want to confuse anything that is between us. I'm just starting to trust you a little bit."

"I can promise you, Bella, that I can handle you massaging me, and if you like me to prove that, you can practice in advance," I add with a wink.

She doesn't smile though, so I continue.

"If you want that internship, give it a try. You don't have to worry about our friendship, I'm professional enough. As for my feelings, you don't have to worry about those either. It's just a little crush, nothing I haven't been through before, and yes, I believe you are special, there is nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not special. If you do have a crush, it's only for the Bella that lives inside your head, that's not the real me."

"I know, but I'll never get to know the real you if you keep hiding her."

"You don't want to know her, believe me. This way is better."

"I think, the more I see of you, without your mask, the more I like you. And if you disagree, then show me what's so evil about you and get this over with. Try me."

"Didn't I show you last night?"

"That wasn't evil. That was you being upset." I smile at her reassuringly.

"I hurt you, didn't I?"

"Not on purpose."

"No. I guess not. But I still don't think you'll like what you see if I do open up."

"I remember the first time you let your guard down with me, when we were fifteen, and I liked that a lot."

Bella was on my mind all through soccer practice.

I wonder if she's okay after what happened earlier this afternoon. She got into a mean fight with Steven at school, and one of the teachers had to separate them.

I saw that Bella had a split lip, and I wanted to ask her what happened, but she didn't return in class. Some kids were whispering that she probably got suspended.

Steven came up with some lame story about her attacking him out of nowhere, but I don't really believe him. Bella would never attack someone, he's just trying to explain how she got him so bad that he's got a black eye and a bruised cheek.

When I arrive home, I take my bike around the back to the shed, and I see her sitting against the tree she used to climb all the time.

This year, we haven't had much chance to hang out, because I got picked up by the local soccer team and I have practice every weekday. I miss her, of course, but I'm also busy with so much stuff that I don't have time to dwell on the distance that's growing between us. We still get to hang out at school, and until I get better at combining soccer with good grades, that will have to do.

Tonight though, I forget all about my homework when I see her defeated form and I and invite her up to my room.

She drops down her school bag I only notice just now, which means she came to my house straight after school. She probably doesn't want to explain to her father how she got that swollen lip.

"Did you put some ice on that?" I ask, when she gets comfortable on my bed staring at the ceiling.

She shakes her head.

"Wait right here," I say, and I go downstairs, gathering the stuff I need. It's not the first time I have to patch up Bella after she got into a fight. Although it's been a while. I guess fighting isn't that cool anymore when you're not eight.

She lets me clean up her face and disinfect her lip, without shrinking back from my touch.

"What happened," I ask. I expected her to be furious about whatever Steven did, so her passive behavior worries me.

She simply shrugs and says "you probably got his version already."

"I don't care about his version, he's not my friend, you're my friend."

"I don't want to talk about it," she mutters.

Great. She's in that mood.

I decide to leave her be and pick up my school bag to start some homework, but she suddenly whispers "Jacob?"

I turn around, "yeah?"

"Hold me?"

For a few seconds I hesitate.

Bella has never asked me to hold her before, and my heart breaks for my strong friend who looks so vulnerable right now. Even though we haven't been as close as we used to, she's still my best buddy and I still care about her with all my heart.

So I lay down next to her and clumsily wrap her into my arms.

She doesn't hug me back, but she hides her face against my chest and then shocks me even more by starting to sob.

I have no idea how to deal with this so I simply do nothing and stay motionless. I guess in a way I expect her to get up and run out any moment.

"It won't get any better," she wails softly, "it'll never pass."

I almost ask her what will never pass, but I don't want her to know that I don't understand, so I try to soothe her, "it will get better, you'll see."

"No it won't," she sobs, "even if I ever get out, there will be others. The world is filled with Stevens."

I really wonder what that jerk did to get her in a state like this.

"Don't listen to Steven, Bella, you know he's an asshole."

"It's nothing he said," she continues, a little calmer now, "it's what he did."

"What's that?" I ask again.

"He tried to…" she takes a deep breath, "he touched me. And I punched him."

I ask confused, "touched you?"

"Yeah, touched me, you know, in places."

"Oh," I say.

That bastard. How dare he? If anyone would ever be allowed to touch Bella, it would be me. If one day she'll stop hating men, I'll be her first. And he better stay the hell away from her or I'll make sure his other eye gets the same color.

My anger isn't important now though, what matters is how that pervert hurt Bella.

"Well, I don't think he'll do it again," I try to comfort her, "you really got him good, his face is a mess."

"That's not really the point," she mutters.

"How so?"

"Because there will be others, and I can't punch them all, can I? I wish I could be a boy. Will you help me cut off my hair?"

"Your hair is beautiful," I say, while softly stroking it.

"Exactly. Everybody says I'm beautiful and I hate it. All they mean is I'd like to fuck you."

I'm taken aback by her harsh choice of words and object, "that's never what I meant."

"I know Jacob," she sighs, "you're the exception."

I want to take that as a compliment and in response, I squeeze her tighter against my chest.

Her gasp makes me let go and look at her questioningly.

"I think he hit some ribs as well," she explains.

"Is it bruised?" I ask worriedly.

"I think so, I can't really see it, it's more right here," she points at her side from her shoulder to her back.

"Do you, um, I could put some salve on those bruises, if you want," I stutter.

I wouldn't call myself a perv or a maniac, but the idea of putting my hands on her skin, underneath her shirt, makes my belly flip and my mouth dry anyway.

She continues to astonish me with her open and trusting behavior by sitting up and pulling her shirt over her head.

I immediately notice the dark purple bruise that made her wince, along with some other bruises in different shades of blue and yellow. Those can't be caused by Steven, since they are in various stages of healing, but I shut up about it and start putting the salve on her fresh bruise.

I don't know what I expected her to be like, but I nearly gasp when I feel how soft her skin is. She always seems such a tough girl, but she feels vulnerable underneath my touch.

My eyes can't help but search for the outline of her breast, and my body can't help but react. Strongly.

I know a horny teenager is the last thing she needs right now, but my lower body is completely beyond my control.

I do manage to hide my situation for her and it subsides when she's fully dressed again.

After that I try to keep more distance, even when she snuggles closer to me later that night, underneath my covers. Maybe we've come to an age where it's no longer appropriate to sleep in the same bed, and it has become a rare event, but I explained to my mother what happened and she simply said "I trust you."

I guess even if I wasn't to be trusted, Bella's fists are a solid barrier to cross.

In the dark, our conversation becomes a bit more personal, and she tells me more details about what Steven did exactly.

Then suddenly, out of the blue, she asks, "Jacob, are you gay?"

"What?" I reply, wide awake again, "what makes you think that?"

"I don't know," she says, "you never had a girlfriend."

"Bella," I groan, a little bit insulted. "You know why I haven't. And besides, I'm too busy now with soccer and schoolwork."

"I know," she states matter-of-factly, "but… you never seem interested in sex. Or like with me, you never even look at my body."

"Ha!" I laugh, and then chuckle softly.

"What?"

"I hate to burst your bubble, Bella, but it's not because I'm a gentleman that I'm not looking."

"For example," she says, not ready to let go. "You claim to be interested in me, right?"

"Do we have to have this conversation?" I groan.

"Yes," she says bossily, "so, if that's true, you would have been affected, earlier, when I took my shirt off."

"Yeah, and?"

"So, were you?" I hear her smirk, as if she's proven now that I'm gay, and I'm glad the darkness is hiding my furious blush.

I don't reply and she suddenly sits up. "Jacob?"

"Yeah."

"Please don't tell me you were turned on."

"I won't tell you," I mutter, blushing even harder.

"Are you serious?"

"Come on Bella, what do you want me to say? Do you actually want me to be gay?"

She sighs and lays down again, "I would appreciate that, yes."

I chuckle, "I'm sorry. I never lied about how I feel. And I don't control… certain things."

"So," she continues, "while you were putting that salve on me, you were hard?"

I sigh, "does that even matter? Do you trust me?"

"I do trust you, but it matters to me. I guess I thought you were over me by now."

"You act like you broke my heart, Bella, but it's not like that. I'm not hurt or anything, you just happen to be the only girl I notice. Or want."

"So you haven't kissed anyone yet?"

I shake my head, "you would be the first to know if I had. You?"

"No," she says firmly, "and I'm never going to either."

"You don't know that. You could fall in love." It hurts a little to say that, to imagine her with someone, but it could happen.

"Never."

"So you'll die a virgin?" I tease her.

At this her face falls. I see her lip tremble and I don't know what I said wrong.

My hand reaches over for her hand and our fingers lace together.

I have no idea what got into my mind, probably nothing at all. If I was thinking, I'd know that this is the worst idea possible, because she just said she never ever wants to kiss anyone, and here I am, leaning in, closing the distance.

I squeeze her hand reassuringly and place a soft kiss on her bruised lips. I make sure to keep my mind pure, I guess I want to prove to her that men can be sweet without needing to fuck her.

She exhales softly but doesn't pull back, and I move my lips slowly against hers.

After a while, my mind is far from pure, but I have myself under control, and when she leans back, she has the sweetest smile on her face.

"I remember that night," Bella says, with a wistful expression. "We were both so young and naïve."

"I don't think I've changed much," I reply, "although that probably means I'm still naïve."

"Probably," she chuckles. "I'm not the same though."

"I know," I speak softly, and then add, "your boyfriend must be really special, to make you change your convictions like that."

I want to add in my mind "when even your best friend never succeeded."

"My what?" she says confused.

"Your… boyfriend?" I repeat.

She shakes her head, "I don't have a boyfriend, that wouldn't make any sense. Why would I live with you if I had a boyfriend?"

"I don't know," I say, I haven't really thought about that. About the other guy possibly being jealous of me, her roommate.

"I just figured," I continue, deciding to just be open and honest, "you go out a lot, all dressed up, and when you come home, I smell male aftershave, or sometimes you're showered."

She sighs and leans down in the couch, rubbing her face.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she repeats. "I… um… when I go out…" she stops again and thinks about her words. This clearly isn't easy for her.

"You don't have to tell me," I say, although I really do want to know.

"I massage people," she suddenly blurts out, "you know, as a student, I need practice and I make some extra cash for the rent and all. I try to wear nice clothes because people don't want a pierced tattooed gothic freak touching them. So I kinda use my looks. There's a room at the university I can use, and sometimes afterwards, I take a shower. Especially if they are, you know, sweaty."

"Oh, I see."

Before I have time to figure out how I feel about this, she astounds me with new information.

"So yeah, I haven't changed my convictions at all, you're still the only one I ever kissed."

"Seriously?" I ask, eyes wide open.

"Yep. So what about you, you told me you never noticed any girls but me. How much have you changed?"

My cheeks heat up when I admit, "that changed a little bit."

"How many girls?" she asks with a sly smile.

"What do you mean?" I try to avoid the question.

"How many girls have you slept with?"

"Oh, um, that's not really…"

"That many, huh," she interrupts me teasingly.

"No, I don't think it's that many, I just don't want you to draw the wrong conclusions."

"What kind of conclusions," she asks, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"Well, okay, here goes. It took me a really long time to lose my virginity. I was twenty, and this girl, I liked her. A lot. We had good chemistry and good understanding too. We were together a little over a year, and then I guess we drifted apart. She was a hardworking student and I dropped out of college to focus on my soccer career which started going really well. When she broke up with me, I was pretty devastated."

Bella listens to me intently, without interrupting, so I continue with the harder part.

"So after that, I went through a… wilder period. I had a lot of one night stands, but none turned out to be what I was looking for. It's a cliché, right, those soccer girlfriends, all being pretty but so dumb. It's kinda true. Most of them were bitches looking for media attention. It never lasted. The sweet and nice girls simply didn't approach me. By the time I got sick of living that way, I got injured so they lost their interest in me as well. That was almost a year ago."

"And now?"

"What about now?"

"Any girls since you moved here?"

"Nope," I admit, as if that should reassure her that I've grown out of my wilder habits.

"So no sex for almost a year? How's that working for you?" she smirks knowingly.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" I smile. "I know you think men are all horn dogs, and in a way, that's true. I do miss it and I spend a fair amount of time thinking about sex or fantasizing, but it's not like I absolutely need to have it. I have enough control to wait for something better now."

"Waiting for the one?" she asks, raising her eyebrows mockingly.

"No, not really. Just something deeper, a connection that is real."

I carefully avoid eye contact. I don't want her to know that most of my fantasies are about her, even though she might suspect it.

She told me that she's just starting to trust me and doesn't want our friendship to get confused, so I'll behave and make her feel safe.

In the days to follow however, some of her words keep replaying in my mind.

I don't have a boyfriend.

Along with the look she gave me, as if the thought alone is ridiculous. It definitely changes things.

And then the other line.

You're still the only one I ever kissed.

No matter how unlikely it is that a beautiful 25-year-old woman has only ever kissed her childhood best friend, I do believe her.

I remember how she lashed out whenever a guy showed her sexual attention, and seeing how guarded she still is, she might still act that way around men, keeping them at distance.

I do feel honored, to be the only one who ever came near her heart, and to be the only one she trusts still.

It makes me feel warm inside.

Not hopeful, but warm nonetheless.

AN : Dear readers, I hope this chapter made you feel warm as well :) Please let me know!