I took a deep breath and looked around my small, plain bedroom. For the first time in months, I wasn't going to be sleeping on the plaid-sheeted twin bed. I wouldn't fall asleep staring at the poster of Chad Micheal Murray - which, after seeing Matthew - didn't have me feeling anything anymore. Instead, I would be sleeping somewhere in Matthews house, looking at who-knew-what.

My heart thumped loudly at the prospect.

I slung my book bag over my shoulder and moved the suitcase I was planning to bring that night to the door of my room.

Who knew that packing for one weekend could be so difficult? Matthew still hadn't told me where we were going or what we were going to do, so I'd wanted to be prepared for anything. I'd brought three different pairs of pajamas - one for each night - I'd brought pants and shorts, fancy clothes and casual clothes, extra toiletries, a swimming suit, and every other item I would possible have a use for over the weekend.

I looked at the clock on my phone; Matthew would be here any moment to pick me up for school.

I ran downstairs and threw on my basic winter gear and by the time I opened the outside door, Matthew - looking as overwhelmingly attractive as ever - was waiting for me at the curb.

He got out when he saw me and joined me on the steps leading up to our house.

"Is that all you're taking?" He asked, eyeing my book bag warily, "Do you not want to come anymore?"

"No," I answered, laughing at the worried expression on his face, "I definitely still want to go. And I have a lot more -"

"I can get it -" he cut in, relief flooding his demeanor.

"No, no," I interrupted, "See, we kinda have to make a detour tonight. We have to come back here first; my aunt wants to meet you."

"Oh," he said, surprised.

"Yeah, I know, it came as a total shock. She's never been that interested in my life.

"I don't know why not," he said, grinning his crooked smile and simultaneously causing my breath to catch, "Your life is interesting"

I laughed once, sarcastically, "Yeah right. Trust me; you are the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me."

He rose an eyebrow dubiously but said no more.

"So," I asked brightly for the millionth time as soon as we took off in his car, "Are you going to tell me what your plans for the weekend are now?"

"Nope," he said, grinning.

"When are you going to tell me?" I demanded, frustrated.

"I still haven't decided that."

"Matt!" I groaned, "You are taking a major risk here. What if I hate what you have planned?"

"I guess I'm going to have to take that risk." His warm brown eyes twinkled merrily and set my heart pumping furiously again.

"So your aunt wants to meet me," he started musingly, changing the subject.

"Yep. I have no idea why; she's never asked to meet a former boyfriend of mine before."

"Former boyfriends? How many of those have you had - just out of curiousity?" he asked carefully, his eyes suddenly guarded, his face suddenly tense.

I laughed, "What, are you jealous?"

"Yes," he admitted, unabashed, his face retaining its tense state.

"Don't worry," I reassured him, "None of them had anything on you."

"None of them? That makes it sound like there's been many..."

"Not really," I mentally thought back; Michael Andrews had been last and before him I'd dated Oliver Jenkins - which had been a huge mistake - and then Jason Kelly and - and - I knew there was one more...

"Four other guys really isn't a lot, and I didn't really have a meaningful relationship with any of them."

"I see," he looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't.

"I'm sorry," he informed me after a few moments of silence, "I just - am - jealous."

I laughed, "I can't say that I've had to deal with a jealous boyfriend before... but seriously, we didn't have sex or anything."

His expression relaxed; I'd apparently hit what had been bothering him right on the head.

Matthew pulled into the school parking lot. Once again, we were the first ones there.

We had just arrived, freshly changed, in the gym when we were joined by Lorraine Black, who made a beeline for us.

"So," she said, approaching Matthew, "You guys are coming right after school?"

"No. We're stopping by Paige's house for a little while and then coming," Matthew answered.

"Ah. Well," she eyed me grudgingly, "I suppose you want everything ready by the time you get there then."

"That would be great."

"Fine."

My curiousity was killing me. He had Lorraine in on it - what ever it was?

"So," I started, grinning, as soon as Lorraine had walked away.

"Nope," Matthew answered briskly, "Not telling."

I laughed, "But - that's not what I was going to say."

Actually, it had been what I was going to say.

"What were you going to say then?" he asked, playing along.

"Just that... Lorraine is in on it too?"

"Yep."

"Not fair."

"Sure it is."

And class began.

The day flew by, our cheerful banter never ceasing.

At the end of our last class period, the fact that I was going to meet his parents very soon finally sunk in, and neither of us talked much.

By the time we got to Matt's car and got settled inside, my nerves were a crazy mess. What if they didn't like me? I'd never had to worry about impressing people before; this was entirely new to me and had me nearly throwing up with anxiety.

I stole a glance at Matthew; he seemed distracted as well.

He met my gaze and curiousity flickered across his own.

"Are you alright?" he asked concernedly.

"Um," I stated, and shrugged.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his concern growing.

"Just - nervous," I admitted ashamedly.

"Nervous about what?" he pressed, an odd and indistinguishable look coming over his face.

"Meeting your parents. I - I've never had to worry about what people thought of me before."

He paused, surprised.

"Paige," he said slowly, letting my name linger in his mouth, "You're that worried that my parents won't like you?"

"Yes," I said sheepishly.

He sighed, and shook his head.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"You're not nervous because you are - not only going to meet, but be in capacity with for an entire weekend - another werewolf and a mythical being that you don't know?"

"Um, well, that didn't really occur to me... but no."

"Well, that's what what you should be worried about. What most people would be worried about," he said softly.

"I guess I'm not like most people," I said, equally as soft.

"That you're not," he agreed solemnly before lightening up again, "But if you're not worried about that, then you have no reason to worry at all; my parents already love you."

"But they don't know me," I interjected, "They can't already have an opinion formed of me."

"But they do. They could never not love someone that I care so deeply for."

"Then that means I have to live up to their expectations," I groand, shutting my eyes and flopping backwards against his seat.

"Paige," he said softly. I felt his hot hand rest against my shoulder.

I opened my eyes to see his, startingly close, staring into mine.

My worries melted away as I gazed into their deep brown depths.

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"Just be yourself, and they'll love that."

"Okay," I agreed, my nerves completely at bay.

His gaze shifted back to the road.

"So," he started this time, "Your aunt will be waiting for us?"

"That's what she said," I said carefully, "But I wouldn't be surprised if she's not there."

"I guess we will find out in a second."

He turned onto my block. Sure enough, there, parked in our little driveway, sat my aunts bright red Honda Civic.

"Wow. She's here," I said, flabbergasted.

"Guess so." He parked.

"Here goes nothing," he said thoughtfully before proceeding to hurry about the car and open my door for me at a brisk human pace.

"You don't have to always do that," I said.

"You don't like it?" he asked, walking me up our sidewalk.

"I didn't say that."

I loved it when he opened my door for me. It was so old-fashioned and gentlemanly.

He smiled. We arrived at the door and both stared at it for a moment. I felt as if I we should knock.

Ignoring my odd and sudden impulse, I opened the door.

"Cynthia?" I called, "Matthew Black and I are here." We began doffing our winter gear when she hurried into view.

Her make-up was pristine, her hair up in a casual-but-still-perfect variation of a messy bun, and her clothes were also casual but very nice. She looked beautiful.

I sighed.

"Aah," she exclaimed dramatically as she entered.

Then she caught sight of Matthew and whatever she had been planning on saying next escaped her.

Her eyes bulged, her jaw dropped, and she froze, staring at him.

I grinned, remembering the first time I'd seen him.

"Hello," Matthew said softly, his voice as sexy and smoldering as ever. Cynthia's features dropped and widened further.

"Cynthia," I started, clearing my throat, "This is Matthew Black. And Matt, this is my aunt Cynthia."

"Oh," she started, jolting back to reality, "Hello. Nice to - er - meet you."

"I'm delighted to meet you as well," he said smoothly.

She blinked in surprise.

"Yes, well... if you'll excuse us for a moment," she struggled to rip her hungry gaze away from Matthew to give me a significant look, "I just need to see Paige in the kitchen for a moment."

"Of course," he allowed.

I followed her into the kitchen.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Paige!" she whispered furiously, "Why didn't you warn me?"

"Warn you of what?" I asked innocently, knowing that Matthew was eavesdropping on our conversation.

"That that boy was so - so - damn attractive!"

"Well," I started, "I guess I didn't think it was that important."

"Damn, girl! I'd have dressed up more if you'd have told me. I mean, I figured he'd be a looker, with his cousins being how they are... but damn! Holy shit!"

"Okay..."

"Sorry. But I don't blame you at all for getting upset before that he didn't want to be friends. Not one bit. I'd have been too. But -"

"Cynthia -"

"Paige, I made tomato soup for dinner and I think I burned it; it doesn't taste right. I don't want to serve it to him. Did you tell him he was coming for supper?"

"No. I thought we weren't."

"Perfect. Don't. You can eat at his place, I won't keep you as long then."

"Okay. Well, he is in the other room..."

"Oh God, yes, we should get back to him. But first, how did you manage to land a guy like him?"

"You have so little confidence in me..." I answered drily.

"Oh. I didn't mean it that way, just... why did he pick you? What did - oh, never mind. I'm jealous though."

"Okay..."

"Alright, alright, let's go back in."

I followed her back into the living room.

"So, Matthew, make yourself at home," she started, not looking at him and gesturing to the couch. We all sat down.

"Where did you say you moved from?" she asked after a few minutes' awkward silence, and looked at him again, instantly becoming lost in his appearance.

I was hit with a pang of extreme annoyance towards my aunt.

"Alaska," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Alaska?" Cynthia asked, surprised.

I was thinking the same thing in a very simular tone.

"Yes. My extended family is from there."

"So what on Earth made you want to move to Elma Washington, of all places?"

"My cousins like small towns. And wanted to move away from the family... I have a large family and they can get overwhelming."

"Ah. Understandable. But if you have such a large extended family, why did you move in with your cousins?"

"Well, my sister and I like small towns too. We were closest to these cousins. And my aunt, uncle, and grandparents are either too old to take care of two teenagers or really didn't want to."

"Well," I cut in, "Cynthia, Matt's cousins are expecting us before too long, so..."

"Of course. But first, tell me Matthew, what exactly was it about Paigie that caught your eye?"

I groaned.

"Excuse me?" he asked politely, "What do you mean?"

"Cynthia, we have to go," I tried.

"Oh, calm down, Paige, you just got here. I just mean... you like her, apparently."

"Yes."

"Why? What is it about her that you like so much?"

"Cynthia- "

"Well," he started solemnly, "I couldn't even begin to cover it all. I mean - all of her, everything about her. I -"

"Look, bud," she interrupted flatly, "I know and you know that you are incredibly attractive. I just hope you realize that that doesn't give you the right to do whatever you want. I know I haven't exactly always been there for Paigie, but I'm afraid she might really fall for you. So I'm warning you. Don't hurt her."

"I don't intend to," he said sincerely. The intense and deeply-rooted candor ringing from every syllable in those four words would have convinced the bigest skeptic on the planet of Matthew Black's honesty at that moment.

I was touched.

"Oh. Well, good."

"Can we go now?" I pleaded.

"Fine," Cynthia responded, "I think what needed to be said has been said."

"Thank you!" I said sarcastically, "I will go get my stuff then."

"I'll help you with it," Matthew said, and followed me to my room.

"Er- okay," I said awkwardly, embarrassed at the previous conversation and the shabbyness and uncleanly state of my room. I flipped on a light and gestured towards my luggage.

"Would it look weird if I took it all?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes. I'll carry some too." I smiled slightly.

We each grabbed a bag and proceeded to exit the house.

"Goodbye Cynthia," I called right before exiting, expecting her to hear from wherever she'd gotten away to.

"Paige, hang on a second," she said, popping into view. I suppressed another groan.

"Yeah?"

"Nice to meet you again, Matthew," she said pointedly.

"You too, Miss Hayes," he answered seriously and nodded.

"Call me Cynthia. Miss Hayes sounds old," she said and attempted to give him a pointed look, but - due to the fact that she was more drinking in his appearance than sternly glaring - it kind of failed.

He took the hint anyway, "I'll put this stuff in the car. I'll be waiting for you," he told me.

"I'll just be a second," I answered, and watched him go out into the cold.

I slipped on my scarf.

"Paige," Cynthia started, "Damn. I don't know how you managed - well, just be careful. A boy like that would be hard even for me not to fall for. Don't put yourself out there."

"Okay, Aunt Cynthia. I'm going now. See you later."

"Goodbye. Good luck."

"Thanks."

I left the house without another word.

"Here," Matthew said, taking the bags from me, "I'll put this stuff in the back too. It's cold out here; you can get in, I've got the heater going."

"Thanks," I answered and threw him an extremly grateful look. I think he understood that it wasn't just pertaining to the luggage and heat.

He smiled.

My aunt must have been watching out a window, for he put the bags in the back and got in the car at a very human-like pace; I was already buckled in and waiting.

He pulled away from the curb carefully.

"Matthew -" I started. He looked at me, waiting for me to start, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that that was going to be so bad."

He laughed, "It wasn't bad. Your aunt is... very intriguing."

"Ha! Yeah, okay."

"She is," he insisted, laughing more.

"Well, whatever. But you know, I really have to thank you."

"For?"

"For saving me from ending up like her."

"What do you mean?" he raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I mean that - if it wasn't for you - I would have ended up exactly like her, living a virtually identicle life. Who knows, maybe my little brother would have had a daughter and then died with his wife in a car crash, springing the little girl on me. Then our lives would be scarily simular."

"So your aunt is your father's brother?" he asked, confused.

"No, she's my mom's."

"That would explain the different last names... What's his name, anyway?" Matthew asked suddenly.

"Who's?"

"Your little brother's."

"Oh. Jesse. Jesse Turner."

"I see. I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do."

"Yes. But anyway, I don't think you would have ended up like your aunt."

"Oh, I'm sure I would have. I was already well on my way there."

We turned onto a small secluded road leading into the woods some distance from my house; I'd honestly never been on the road before.

"How so?" he demanded.

"Well, we both have this... tendancy. I used to think it was because of my parents' deaths, but I don't think so anymore. I think we just both naturally tend to push people away. We both are afraid to get to close to anyone."

He was silent for a moment, "You're afraid to get close to people?"

"Too close, yes. Too afraid to really let myself care for people. We both have an acute ability to shut people and feelings out and and away."

"Which would explain - before. When we weren't - er - talking."

"Yes. I shut you and all emotions with you, out."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky."

"How so?" I asked incredulously.

"I could never do that."

"Well... you won't have to."

"I think you would have fallen for someone, though."

"What?"

"If I had never come along. I think you'd have fallen for someone eventually; you'd have let them in."

"No. Cynthia still hasn't fallen for anyone. I probably wouldn't have either. It took someone extraordinary to penetrate my shield."

He grinned lazily, shrugging off my compliment.

"Are you really from Alaska?"

"I did live there before we moved here; yes."

"Why Alaska?"

"It's much less populated, and therefore much easier to keep curious people from the knowledge that two children were aging at an impossible rate."

"Aah, I see. So... are we almost there?"

The value of the task at hand hit me once again, and my nerves returned as well, though not as badly as they had upon the departure from school.

"Almost," he murmered.

"You live a long ways out of town... away from everyone and everything." Matthew had been speeding this entire time, and all I'd seen on either side of this spindly little road for awhile had been solid forest.

"We can be ourselves out here," he said, "Away from prying eyes."

"That makes sense. And it's beautiful."

"Here," he said, "It's just up here."

The road curved around to the right and - on a path I didn't see before or after we took it - we made our way up the long winding driveway, and followed it for what seemed like forever.

Finally, we pulled up next to what was undoubtedly the most extravagant house I'd ever seen in my life.

My heart rate kicked into overdrive.

Author's Note: Please, review!