Chapter 6: Angel

When I get out of the shower, he's fully dressed again, leaning against the headboard of the king size hotel bed. He pats the sheets next to him, inviting me to sit down for a moment. Usually, I rush out as soon as I can, because Peter needs more affection than I'm willing to sell.

But when I hesitate he says, "I hear you are looking for a job opening."

I sigh and take a seat. I asked Jacob not to talk to Peter about this, but obviously he was trying to help me and he has no idea I already shared a connection with his manager before he was transferred to the team.

"It's not a job I'm looking for," I explain, "I need a place for an internship."

"Why haven't you told me before?" he asks, clearly insulted that he had to find out through someone else.

"Because I don't think it's a good idea."

At this, he looks even more offended, as if I'd refuse the spot, simply because he'd be the one offering me.

"I can be discrete, Bella, nobody needs to know."

"I wasn't worried about you, I trust you," I lie.

"I see," he says, still not at ease, "it's Black right? I knew it the moment I saw you together."

He gets up from the bed and starts pacing the room.

"You knew what?" I ask carefully. I need to make sure never to upset Peter, he practically pays my rent on his own.

"About you and him," he clarifies.

"There's nothing between us, he's my childhood neighbor and my flat mate. We're friends."

"Bella," he sighs impatiently, "I'm not dumb and I know what I see. The guy is crazy about you."

"Maybe," I reply softly, "but that doesn't mean we have something."

At this Peter sits down again, with a hopeful expression on his face. Clearly, this thing has been bothering him for a while, probably ever since Jacob introduced me to him.

"If you're not with him, then why not take your internship with us? I would love to see you more often, and I thought you would want that too."

I'm so used to lying to men, saying what they want to hear is part of the job, but I still hate leading Peter on. He's one of the few decent men out there and he deserves a chance of a real relationship.

I cautiously say, "I just think it would be too complicated, with you being my boss and my best friend being there all the time. I'm not sure I'm that good at hiding things."

"We'll work around that, I promise I won't walk in when you're working with the players. I'll wait for you to come to my office. Please, Bella? It means a lot to me and I'll pay you plenty."

How can I refuse that? After all, it's the perfect place for me and every single student in my year would pay great amounts to get a chance to work with those famous soccer players.

So finally, I nod and he hugs me tight. I don't hug back, and I don't relax the way I do sometimes in Jacob's arms, but I let him hold me anyway. For just a few seconds before I pull back.

On my way home, I make up a story about a phone call, a job interview, and a great offer. I make it sound as if I got the internship thanks to him, and I earn a hug from Jacob as well.

It should be disturbing, how easy it is to lie to my best friend, but my conscience has quit it's job a long long time ago. Possibly around the time I started beating guys up whenever they put a finger on me. Or around the time I started asking big money for a stupid hand job, simply because I knew the men were too horny to think straight.

I wish I could say things were different with Jacob. He trusts me and he cares for me a great deal. I wish I could at least feel a pang of guilt with every lie I tell, but it just comes natural to me. I suppose that is another proof of why Jacob is way too good for me and why I'll never deserve a man as pure and kind as him.

Hugging him does feel different than hugging Peter. Probably because Jacob never wants anything from me. And even if he does, he hides it well and acts like a gentleman.

That is why I often allow him near me. Instead of always running off like I did a few months ago, I more often seek his presence, his closeness even. I pretend to be cold and snuggle up against him on the couch. No matter what stuff I went through during the day, and no matter how filled I am with self hate, I let him pull me from the wreckage of my silent reverie. In his arms, I find comfort, without him realizing how much that means to me.

And he talks.

Jacob simply tells me everything and I love it. I still find it strange how a person can be this trusting, this open.

He shares his experiences, present and past, the things I missed out on when our friendship went astray. He talks out loud about his dreams for his future and his career.

When it gets late, he whispers to me his secret wishes, his boyish fantasies about scoring the winning goal in a qualifying game. Or about making the difference to at least one child who thinks he's a hero, just like his life was once changed by his own idols.

In moments like that, I know that he is by far the sweetest person alive. An angel almost.

And it becomes harder to keep my guard up.

I have to admit that when in his arms, I don't find it so ridiculous anymore, to simply let go and enter his fantasy world. In which I'm the right person for him, in which it's okay to let him know every single detail of my life, and kiss him till the world ends.

But I can't fool myself.

As soon as I'm alone again, in my room, in my cold bed, I need to remind myself of the truth.

Lately I've been keeping a list of reasons to repeat inside my head. Over and over again. Reasons why Bella Swan should never have Jacob Black.

Even if he believes that he wants her, or loves her, and even if his emotions start to affect her. It's not right. Bella Swan is a soulless monster, without conscience, without a heart. Sure she has a pretty face, but that's where the beauty ends.

If I should ever forget that, great disasters will happen.

I sometimes see parallels with the fall of Lucifer. He was an angel once, like Jacob is now. But then he had gone off track, he lost all that was good to end up in hell. Which is where Jacob would end up if I would ever allow myself to be with him.

"What are you thinking?" Jacob asks.

His voice is heavy and it's clear that he was about to doze off. The movie we're watching turns out to be quite boring, which caused my own thoughts to wander again.

I can't tell him the truth. If he would ever find out about the list, surely he'd try to convince me that there is nothing wrong with me, and he'd try to make me see beauty inside myself.

I know better. And I don't want him to bother.

So again, I lie, but not completely.

"I was thinking about how comfortable I am, right here."

"Mmm," Jacob hums, and pulls me a little closer against him. His warmth spreads through me and I already dread the moment that I'll step into my cold bed tonight.

"Me too," he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on my hair.

With my ear pressed against his chest, I notice that his heart speeds up, and again I worry about his feelings.

"Jacob," I ask carefully, keeping my cheek against his shirt to avoid eye contact, "is this enough for you?"

"How do you mean?" he asks, a little bit more awake.

"What we share, you and I, right now, is that enough?"

"For now, yeah," he says.

That answer doesn't really soothe me, so I ask, "for now?"

"Yep, for now, it's enough."

"But?"

"No buts. I don't know what the future will bring. Maybe one day my heart will realize that this is just friendship and nothing more. When that happens, it won't be enough, and I'll probably start noticing other girls too."

"That's not really what I meant," I say, ignoring the stab in my heart when I imagine him with someone else, even though that is really what I want for him all along.

"I know," Jacob sighs, "you want to know if I'll get hurt if you never end up being my girl. Right?"

"Something like that," I admit.

"Well, you've always been clear about this being all there will ever be."

"True," I say, "but in the past, I never really acted like this."

"How so?"

"All this cuddling and snuggling, it's gotta be confusing. I really don't want to hurt you and you won't tell me either, if one day this will start to hurt."

He thinks about my words for a bit, and then says, "it's not confusing. Not yet. And I can promise you right now, you're not hurting me. This actually feels good. But you're probably right, when it starts to hurt, I won't be able to tell you."

"Then what?" I say, with clear worry about his heart.

"I think you know me well enough by now to just figure it out. You already notice most of my moods and you understand me without me needing to explain. I feel like I can trust you and I feel safe."

"Don't say that," I whisper, "and don't trust me. I'm…"

"Evil, yeah, I know," he interrupts me with a smile and places another loving kiss on my hair.

"I wasn't going to say that, but yeah, that too. I meant that I feel like I'm using you. Knowing how you feel…"

"I don't see it that way, don't worry. You're not leading me on. I know where I stand, and all you ever ask for is friendship anyway. A close kind of friendship, but nothing out of line. Nothing I'm not willing to give gladly."

"You would gladly give too much as well," I mutter.

"Don't worry, sweetie, really, I'm getting a lot out of this too. I notice how you have changed around me, from being guarded all the time, to being like this. I feel like you really forgave me for what happened in high school. And even though it's only friendship, I love it. I swear. You are amazing, and being close to you is amazing."

I relax against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. And after a while, I dare to ask the other question that has been on my mind.

"And what about sex?"

"What about it?" Again his voice sounds deep, as if he was dozing off.

"Do you think about it?"

He chuckles, "do I think about sex? Sure."

"With me," I explain reluctantly, as if that was obvious already.

He takes a deep breath and I hear his heart speed up again. I think that is my answer right there.

"Would you mind?" he asks carefully.

"No, not me. I trust you. But maybe you do?"

"Me? No, I don't mind thinking about sex," he chuckles again, as if this conversation is rather amusing.

"You know what I mean," I nudge him, to make him stop joking.

"I think so," he says, in a more serious tone. "You wonder if I'll start needing sex with you if you're being close to me all the time."

"Sort of," I say, "surely that's the case, if you fantasize about it already."

"Bella, darling," he says, "I fantasize about winning the world cup, too. That doesn't mean I can't be happy with what I have right now. And yes, at night in my bed, when my body needs a release and when I bring up thoughts that might arouse me, I do think about you. Because you are sexy, and I feel intimate with you. I hope you're not freaked out by that."

"No, I'm not," I answer, and it's the truth. I've become used to men jerking off over me, and although I usually think it's disgusting, I really don't mind Jacob dreaming about intimacy with me.

"Good. And you don't have to worry. Like I said, I know where I stand."

"So it's not frustrating?"

"Nope," he answers, "at the moment it feels nice. As in nice to hold somebody as sexy as you, and nice to not need much imagination when the moment is there. I guess the only worry I have is my body not knowing where the boundaries are, and blurring the lines without intending to."

"How do you mean," I ask, wondering how close he is to losing control.

"Like," he tries to explain, "I'd like to caress you, when I'm holding you like this, but in my foggy mind, I don't really know if that is something friends are allowed to do. I'm really scared that if I make a mistake like that, I'll lose all the trust I've been building up these months."

"You won't lose it like that, just by blurring one line," I reassure him.

"You don't know that," he whispers.

"I do," I state. "I know I've shut down completely in the past, whenever you came too close. But that was more emotionally, not physically. If your… desire ever makes me uncomfortable, I'll just tell you."

"Maybe you'll think I'm like the rest of them, trying to get into your pants."

"No," I shake my head, "you're different. That's one thing I trust, and I'll be able to tell the difference. Between you being confused or you trying to get something."

"Good," he says, relaxing again.

After a long silence, in which this time I'm the one to nearly drift to sleep, he suddenly whispers, "so in conclusion, I won't get confused in case you blur the affectionate lines and you won't get confused in case I blur the sexy lines."

I think about his words and then nod, "yeah, let's both agree this is just friendship, even if we sometimes act differently."

"Right," he says.

After another pause, I wake up again when I feel his strong arms picking me up.

Before I know what's happening, he's carrying me into my room and lowering me onto my bed.

"Night, Bella," he whispers, "I'm really glad we had this conversation, thank you. Sleep tight."

He places a soft kiss on my cheek and then walks out of my room, softly closing the door behind him.

I know I dreaded this moment, but somehow my bed doesn't feel as cold tonight.

AN: I know most of you would love to see something more than friendship, but at the moment, this is where the story leads me. I can't promise a happy ending, even if I hate stories without happy ending. I just write what comes to mind, and I also hope that Dr. Jacob will be able to heal some of her pain. At the moment, the best way to do that is through friendship. Agree or disagree?