Chapter 5:

Alice spent the next hour tackling the mess of brown curls with a brush. I felt terrible—I wouldn't wish this mess on my worst enemy. I was surprised by the amount of patience she had. My mother, when she was still around, had never been this patient with my unruly hair.

Alice's hands felt amazing. And when the hour passed and she pulled away, I was disappointed.

She stood in front of me, analyzing her latest accomplishment, her eyes lit with excitement. Her lips quirked up in a breathtaking smile.

"Wow." She said, "You're beautiful."

"Pft." I scoffed. "Right."

She placed her hands on her hips. "Don't you dare underestimate my work." She commanded. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into her bathroom. Once inside, she spun me around to face the mirror.

I stared back at the dark-haired beauty in the mirror. Who was this person? She had silky chocolate spirals, full pink lips, and handsome dark eyes. Her dress was a baby-blue, which fit perfectly, emphasizing the curves in all the best places. She looked elegant—and beautiful. This certainly wasn't me. My hair was a rat's nest and my worn baggy clothes normally hung loosely over my unimpressive frame. But there was nothing unimpressive about the girl that stared back at me in the mirror.

I blinked in disbelief. I waved a hand in front of my face just to be sure. "This is me?" I squeaked.

Alice who was standing behind me, pushed herself up on her tiptoes to look at my reflection over my shoulder. She grabbed my hips to balance herself. She was grinning. "Definitely."

The shock of the transformation was suddenly pushed into the back of my mind. Alice was pressed up against my back—and the assault of desire that washed through me was both unexpected and unwelcome. I didn't want to ruin this. The fabric that separated us was thin—too thin. I could feel her soft breasts pressed firmly against my back, her breath in my ear. And the hands that gripped my hips was setting my body aflame.

Noticing how I'd suddenly gone rigid, Alice turned into my ear, pressing close enough that I could just barely feel the softness against my lobe. "Is something wrong?" She whispered.

A shudder ran through me. Oh my god, how did she have this effect on me?

"Bella?" Her lips pressed closer against my ear, sending another shiver through me. Her lips felt so good.

I was afraid that if I waited too long, she would think I was incompetent. "Y-yes?" I stammered.

I could feel Alice smile against my ear. I did not dare look back in the mirror. I was afraid of what I would see.

"Are you feeling alright?" Her voice was quieter now, so quiet I wouldn't have heard her if her lips weren't against my ear.

I wanted to respond, but my mind was lost in the feel of her lips.

"How does the dress feel?" She purred quietly. Her hands slid forward, caressing the silky material around my waist. I could not refrain the gasp that left my lips. The feel of her hands was just too good.

Her hands slowly made their way up the material and stopped right under my breasts. It was torturous. I could only imagine what her hands would feel like on my breasts. Just a little bit farther…

I could not speak, I was paralyzed by the sensations coursing through me and the throbbing heat between my legs.

"Bella?" She whispered more insistently.

"Yes, Alice?" I panted.

Her hands receded and she moved her lips away from my ear. A wave of disappointment washed through me.

I looked up into the mirror to see Alice staring back at me, her eyes so intense it made my stomach do a backflip. Was she angry at me for not answering? Did she think I was ignoring her? But after a fleeting moment, I realized that Alice did not look angry, she looked hungry—hungry for something. Another shudder went through me.

"Alice?" Now it was my turn to ask if she was okay.

She shook her head as if to clear her mind. A blush crept onto her face. Looking ashamed, she turned away from me.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

Alice spun around and left the bathroom.

"Alice!" I went after her. "I'm sorry, I wasn't ignoring you, I swear. I love the dress—really."

She stopped very suddenly. I dug my heels into the ground to avoid crashing into her, but I wasn't fast enough. With a whoosh of passing air, I sent us both onto the ground. I used a palm and an elbow to break my fall, hoping I would not crush her.

I tried to push myself up immediately, but the searing pain in my elbow made my arms buckle.

"Damn." I groaned, "Alice, are you hurt?" I pushed myself up with my good arm to see Alice pinned underneath me. She was looking away, her face beat-red. There was something very pleasurable about the feel of her small body between me and the ground—and it made me feel like scum. She could be hurt.

"Alice?"

"I'm fine." She panted, not meeting my gaze.

But I was not assured. She looked tormented by something. Worried that I had hurt her, I pushed myself up onto my knees with one arm. "Are you sure—"

But my question was interrupted by her sudden gasp. She arched her back and her fists closed around the plush rug underneath us.

"What is it?" I asked, horrified. "What's wrong?"

I got a groan from her in response. Both frustrated and terrified, I leaned forward and cupped her cheek, gently turning her head to face me.

"Alice? Tell me what's wrong." I begged. "What's hurting?"

"Nothing." She panted.

She bit her lip. I could feel her body shuddering against me. When another whimper escaped her lips, my worry turned into panic. If nothing was wrong she wouldn't be breathing so hard, wouldn't be so tense and gripping the carpet for dear life. "I don't believe you." I told her.

She turned her head away from my palm and stared at the far wall, still red in the face and panting.

I was getting very frustrated now. If she was hurt, we would need to get her to her father immediately.

"Please." I begged.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Your—" She whispered.

"What?" I leaned in, anxious.

"Your leg." She almost whimpered. "It's—"

I looked downward to find my knee pressed tightly between her legs. It took me a long moment to realize that this was the reason she was uncomfortable. And when that sunk in, horror chilled my blood. I rolled off her as fast as I could.

"Oh Alice." I gasped. "I'm so sorry."

She did not move. She simply laid there, her perfect legs splayed on top of the rug, her hands now relaxed. Her face was still red, but she looked calmer now.

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked her. I couldn't imagine she would want to spend any more time with me after this.

"No!" She said quickly. "Sorry."

"Don't be." I chuckled nervously. "I'm the one who plowed into you. Sorry."

Alice pushed herself up, "But you wouldn't have, if I didn't run out on you like that. Really Bella, it's my—" Alice noticed my arm, which I had cradled against my chest. She narrowed her gaze. "You're hurt." It wasn't a question.

"It's fine." I waved her concern away—then winced.

She marched up to where I stood, determined to not be fooled. At least the awkwardness of our earlier blunder was temporarily forgotten. She glared me down. "Don't lie to me, Bella." The sheer absoluteness of her command, combined with the use of my name, made me shudder. How could someone so tiny emit such a formidable aura? Her blue eyes pierced me, and I found myself unable to disobey.

"I landed on my elbow. Not sure if it's anything serious." I admitted. I flexed it to check and was met with a searing pain that started at the point of my elbow and throbbed mercilessly throughout my forearm.

Seeing me wince, Alice's face became resolved. "We have to take you to my father—he works at the hospital. He's a doctor."

I grimaced at the thought of a hospital fee. And even more so, I was afraid he'd tell me I couldn't work on Charlie's farm. If I couldn't work, Charlie and I would be in big trouble.

"Let's go." She commanded, turning around.

"Wait—" I begged. She paused. I had to come up with an excuse good enough to get out of this—and fast. But I knew now that Alice was not the type to back down or be deterred. But maybe I could stall. "Perhaps we could wait for him to come home? He's probably busy at the hospital."

She bit down on her lip, considering this idea. I took advantage of this. "And how would I control Firerain's reins with a bad arm?" This was a small fib. Firerain knew how to get to Centre Court without direction, but I doubted he knew where the hospital was, "It's a long walk on foot." I grimaced for dramatic effect.

She sighed. From the defeated sound, I knew I had won. I had bought myself more time.

"Fine." She said. "I'll be back, I'm going to find you some bandages to keep your arm from moving."

I sat on her bed while I waited. It was so very comfortable, and it smelled just like her. She smelled sweet, a mixture of lemongrass and something else I couldn't put my finger on. I leaned into one of her pillows and took a deep breath, relishing her scent. Lemongrass, warm vanilla, and just Alice.

Alice came in with an arm full of bandages. I quickly moved away from her pillows.

"Let's make sure your arm can't move too much."

She dumped the variety of rolled bandages on the bed and stood in front of me.

"Alright." She huffed, "Show me the damage."

I lifted my arm to hold up to her, but did not dare try to unbend it. She reached out, observing it closely. My elbow was a little scuffed, but there was no other physical evidence. It must be something inside my arm that was damaged.

She took out one of the rolls and began wrapping my arm. I prepared myself for the pain—but it did not come. She was very gentle. I was worried she wasn't wrapping it tight enough, but when she was finished, my arm was securely in place.

"Thanks." I said.

She sighed in response.

"Are you hungry?" She asked me.

Now that she mentioned it—I was ravenous. We had spent the whole morning dressing up.

"I am."

She led me downstairs, where her mother Esme greeted me warmly. I was very nervous about her seeing me in their dress or the bandage. I did not want her think that I was not only intruding into their house—but also taking their clothes.

"Ahhh Bella." She hugged me. Her skin was unusually cold, and it left goosebumps on my arms. "You look dazzling." She told me.

Her amber eyes were kind and warm. Alice was very lucky to have a mother like her. She prepared the both of us sandwiches. I insisted that we help her, but she made us wait in the living room.

Alice admired the elegant wall hangings Jacob had made.

"Your friend is very talented." She told me. "I've been to a lot of places and art like this is a rare sight."

"Yeah he's pretty good. I'm always telling him that he could set up a booth at Centre Court and make more money, but he'd rather stay and help out his mother."

Her eyes twinkled. She questioned me about him, asking me how long we'd know each other and what we usually did together. I couldn't understand why she was so curious about Jacob, or my life in general, but I entertained her by telling her stories of all the things Jacob and I would get into trouble doing as kids.

Esme brought us our sandwiches. I thanked her profusely and dug in. They were corn beef sandwiches and just about the best sandwiches I'd ever had. Juicy and flavorful. "My god," I said between mouthfuls, "Your mom is a fantastic cook."

Alice laughed. "And these are just her sandwiches. You should try her stews!"

A pang of guilt hit me. I remembered I had left her stew uneaten the last time I was a guest here. I hope I did not hurt her feelings.

"You and Jacob sound very close." She said quietly, not meeting my eyes.

"Mmhmm." I nodded.

"Is he someone you like?"

This brought back the question Charlie had asked me a few days ago. I mean a boy you like… But this time I understood the connotation, so I was prepared. "Er… no. I think of Jacob as my brother."

She smiled, relieved.

"Tell me about your friends." I said.

This caught her off guard. "Hmmm… I don't have any."

I dropped my sandwich onto my plate in disbelief. How could anyone resist not being her friend? "Oh, is it because you left them behind in Alaska?"

This shocked her too. That's right—she didn't tell me she was from Alaska. "The Newton's said your family moved down from somewhere in Alaska." I said, answering her questioning look.

"Well, it's not that." She put her sandwich down now. "I guess I'm not so good at making friends. Esme said I tend to overwhelm people with my energetic personality."

The sad look in her eyes made my heart tighten uncomfortably. "That can't be true," I protested, "You're not overwhelming at all." Unless you count her overwhelming beauty and charm.

Her eyebrow raised, and a hopeful expression came across her face, "You don't find me annoying?"

"Not at all!" I assured her. "I really enjoy spending time with you." I blushed from the truth of it. I might enjoy it a little too much.

She was visibly appeased by this. Her eyes lit up and her solemn expression lifted.

"Tell me about you family, then." I hoped this was a safe subject.

She smiled. "They're all really great. My dad's a doctor, I believe you already knew that. The eldest is Rosalie and her husband Emmet. Rosalie is a model—I think you've seen her, she's the blonde one." I remembered. It came as no surprise that she was a model. She was absolutely flawless in every way. "They would photograph her wearing designer clothes," Alice's eyes twinkled at the word clothes, "She's looking for a new job here. And Emmet is a lumberjack, he does the night shift," Wait… Did the lumberjack occupation even have a night shift? Alice continued, "Edward is a musician, and his…" Alice paused, her face pinched in thought, "His friend, Jasper, is in the military."

Alice beamed, proud of her siblings.

There were a few things that struck me as odd. Alice's use of the word friend, made it seem like it was a substitute for another word she'd rather not say. And Emmet… the night shift? I could see why the hospital would need a night doctor, but lumber companies did not operate at night-at least as far as I knew. And if her father worked the night shift at the hospital, where was he now? It was clearly daytime.

"You father works the night shift too, right?"

"That's right."

"Where is he now?"

"When it's busy at the hospital, they'll keep him way past morning." She frowned, "He's been at work since ten o'clock last night."

"Wow." I admired.

"And Edward, what kind of instrument does he play?"

"The piano."

I sighed with envy. I felt much too inadequate to be associated with Alice and her amazingly talented family.

"And you next. You're a painter, right? What do you like to paint?"

Her perfect brows drew together. I couldn't understand her discomfort. If I was talented enough to be an artist, I would be bragging.

"I mostly paint portraits, landscapes, and still life." She blushed.

"Do you have any of your work up on the walls?" I eyed the heavily decorated cream walls.

"I have some, Esme always insists on hanging more… But it's too embarrassing." She shook her head.

"Alice, please? Can I see something you've done?" I pleaded.

She sighed in defeat, "Fine." She stood and held out her hand to me. Bewildered, I took it.

She led us back upstairs. The feel of her small hand in mine made me very nervous. Was it strange to hold hands through her house? What would her siblings think if they saw us? Instead of going towards her room, she took us in the other direction. We entered a reading room, furnished with very old, but very elegant dark wooden furniture. Book shelves were full of old, leather-bound volumes and yellowing scrolls.

"This is Carlisle's office," She told me. I was about to ask her if we should really be in here, but she spoke first. "And I did that piece right there."

My eyes followed the direction of her outstretched finger. Hanging on the wall in a rustic frame was a very large gray stone castle. Stone gargoyles and griffins perched at the entrance, above windows, and guarded the courtyard. Flags and drapes of red hung from poles and covered the windows, looking eerily like blood stained cloth. The most eerie part were the three figures that stood in the courtyard of the painting. The man in front wore a cheery smile, while other two who flanked him looked utterly bored. Their skin was paper white and seemed just as thin. And their eyes were a deep blood red. A shiver ran down my spine. The painting was very beautiful, but it was also terrifying. What on earth inspired her to create such a painting?

Trying to act natural, I turned to her to ask the question, but the onset of approaching footsteps distracted me. A tall and beautiful man with gold hair and amber eyes stood by the door with a warm smile.

"Giving our dear guest Bella a tour?" Dr. Carlisle Cullen said in a voice like warm honey.

Stay tuned for chapter 6...