"Uh-oh," Quil said a little too loudly as they walked away.
Angela asked, "Where are they going?"
Leah said, "To finish their argument, I suppose."
Bella tuned them out as she led Paul from the gymnasium into a short hallway between the locker rooms and the main hall of the building. She turned the doorknob to the first darkened classroom on their left and found it unlocked. She hurriedly guided Paul inside and shut the door behind them.
He glanced around the darkened classroom and chuckled. "If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask."
Bella growled at him, making him laugh harder. "You're infuriating sometimes."
"So are you, wife."
"Not for long, husband," she said stubbornly. "Why the sudden change of heart, anyway?"
She turned her back to him as her eyes welled with angry tears. "A few days ago, you said that you wanted this divorce. You want a real mom for Jamie, and you're tired of being alone, Paul. You said that! When I've mentioned the divorce, you've never implied you wanted anything different."
For the first time since announcing himself as her husband to Mike, Bella heard a hint of anger in his voice as he asked, "Did you ever think that maybe I needed a few days to figure shit out, too? Maybe you're not the only person who spent the last seven years willing themselves to forget the past and move on. It didn't work for me, Bella. And it damn sure hasn't worked for you, no matter how hard you try to pretend."
Bella sucked in a sharp breath as she flicked the tears from her lashes, but not just because of his words. Without being semi-blinded by the watery mess, she realized which classroom they'd walked into as her eyes fell on the front lab table she'd once shared with Edward.
Her knees wobbled as she stumbled toward it and gingerly laid her left hand down on the dented, well-used table. It was just as she remembered, complete with the broken corner that Edward had accidentally disintegrated in his palm the first time they 'met' as he desperately tried not to attack her.
Her head spun. It felt as if she'd come full circle, confronted with every single emotion and memory, good and bad that she'd worked so hard to avoid. She wished she could return to that girl - the naïve, trusting little Bella Swan who sat at this table, infatuated with a fucking monster. If she could go back and warn seventeen-year-old Bella about her fate, if she could do it all over, she'd have run away from Edward Cullen there and then.
Maybe she'd have ended up with Jacob if she had. Or, maybe she'd have gone to Florida and wouldn't have known the pack existed. Either way, neither of those things would have given her Paul. Regardless of her current anger, Paul was always what she wanted.
So why the hell was she so angry with him now? Because he had told everyone without her consent. It wasn't as if it were only her story to share. Paul could have told them years ago - they were more his family than hers, in every sense. She had become so selfishly obsessed with controlling every aspect of her life over the last decade that his one revelation without consulting her first had infuriated her. What did that say about the person she was? What good was that kind of selfishness for Paul or Jamie?
He thought she belonged here? He was wrong.
She felt Paul's warmth as he stepped behind her and slowly turned toward him. Without warning, he lifted her by her waist and placed her on the table-top. She hissed as the chilly surface kissed the back of her thighs. She both loved and hated it, nearly sobbing as he pushed her knees apart to step between them, braced his weight on his knuckles on either side of her hips, and pressed his forehead to hers.
Bella stared into his eyes, and changes in them unfurled another hazy memory of him in their youth, long before their Vegas wedding. Before their days of awkward exchanges and inexplicable angry-yet-flirtatious tension across Emily's kitchen.
It was a memory from the night Edward left her. Bella had drifted in and out of consciousness on the ground, nearly hypothermic and drenched from the rain despite her bright yellow raincoat.
At some point, sniffing filled her ears as something wet pressed against her throat. She knew, vaguely, that it was an animal of some sort but could only focus on the exquisite blast of heat that radiated into her skin. It, however, seemed startled, continuing to sniff at her as her vision focused on thick silver fur-covered paws.
Bella tried to remain still, side-eyeing the massive wolf as it hovered over her. It lowered its head, and her left eye met its right. She stared into the gray-blue eye of the wolf, which seemed far too human as the iris shifted and flecks of deep brown bloomed across it - the very opposite of Paul's eyes now.
Bella shivered as she realized she hadn't dealt with just Paul since he'd arrived. His wolf was near the surface, yet, he'd stayed calm while they argued. Once again, his emotional strength awed her.
Trembling, she whispered, "You found me. Not Sam."
He closed his eyes, his forehead pressed to hers as he sighed. His hand moved to gently squeeze just above the knee. "You passed out again, so I lay there to keep you warm until Sam arrived. I had just phased for the first time a few days before that. I hadn't changed back yet because I was too angry. I was definitely too angry to phase since you reeked of Leech. That, and I damn near plowed into you because I didn't see you. Sam carried you back instead."
"You didn't see me? How? You guys can spot a piss-ant's ass across a football field."
He laughed, lifting his head. Paul's hand on her thigh slid upward as he finally opened his eyes, the flecks of gray-blue still streaking through them.
"Wolves see in shades of yellow and blue, Bella. Has no one ever told you that? Green is blue, and brown is yellow. Red is a murky yellow color, like dried mustard. With that long raincoat on, all curled up in a ball… you were practically invisible that night."
She wondered if Edward knew since he'd already known about the wolves. He'd handed her the stupid raincoat before they entered the woods that afternoon. Had Edward intended to camouflage her from them? Had he never wanted her to be found? She was suddenly very aware of the surface she sat on and shuddered.
But Paul had found her. Not Sam. Paul had kept her warm that night, kept her alive. "Oh… my god." Bella was stunned. "I'd forgotten… until a minute ago, seeing your eyes before you closed them."
"No offense, babe, but I think it's time you open your eyes to lots of things."
His hand slid up further, his thumb hovering just above his teeth marks on her thigh.
"I hate it when you're right." She scowled, and to her chagrin, he laughed. His thumb slid lower, brushing against the scar as he lifted his other hand to cup the side of her neck.
She fought the urge to embrace him as she asked, "Why didn't you remind me? That weekend in Vegas?"
His voice took on the deep, husky tone she loved as he said, "We were busy."
Before she could protest, hip lips crashed into hers. Per usual, the plethora of emotion she was drowning in faded into a haze as Paul kissed her into a stupor. Bella grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket to tug him closer, moaning into his mouth as he swiped his thumb across her scar before moving his hands to her sides.
He leaned over her, guiding her onto her back as he broke their kiss to trail his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Bella arched underneath him, hissing from the cold contact, suddenly aware of where they were. Despite that, she could feel the heat of desire uncurling from her lower abdomen and fluttering through her limbs as moisture gathered between her thighs. Her thoughts returned to her earlier pondering of the naive girl who'd wasted away at this table while loving a 'boy' who'd wanted to kill her.
How utterly inappropriate would it be to fuck her true love here, in Edward's chosen Cobalt-blue dress, in the very spot where he'd unnerved, frightened, and somehow entranced her simultaneously?
Paul looked confused as she gently pressed against his shoulders, pushing him away. "Something wrong?"
"I can't do this here," she said. "I didn't realize what room we were in at first…"
Paul chuckled. "You had a class in here with the leech?"
Bella glanced toward the opposite side of the table and tried to bite back a nervous grin. Paul looked toward the empty chair and asked, "Here? This was his table?"
"And mine."
Incredulously, he laughed. "And yours? Don't tell me this is where you met that fucker."
"Okay, I won't tell you, then," she teased. Paul's hands slid up her sides and stroked the sides of her breasts. She arched into his hands and hummed as he circled her puckered nipples with his thumbs. It didn't help control the ache building between her legs. He stepped to the side, and for a moment, she thought he'd help her sit back up. Instead, he suddenly rolled her to her stomach and slid his hands under her skirt.
"Paul!"
Bella gripped the edge of the table as he stepped back between her legs and yanked her toward him. Her dress slid up with the momentum, baring her ass as he left her bent over the table, her legs dangling but not quite long enough to reach the floor, even in heels. Her heart raced as he grabbed the sides of her pantyhose and tugged, sliding them over her ass to her knees.
Bella trembled with anticipation and a bit of fear. "Someone could fucking walk in here!"
He chuckled, barely disguising the sound of his zipper opening. Adrenaline flooded her as he pushed her legs further apart and entered her from behind. Despite the risk, the wrongness of it, of where they were and what it represented, part of her wanted him to take her here, now. It was like declaring his love and need for her on top of a giant 'Fuck You, Edward Cullen,' all in one.
She whimpered and spread her legs further as he worked himself deeper, setting a hard pace from the start. She raised onto her elbows for leverage. Paul's hand slid into her hair at the base of her skull, twisted it around his fist, and pulled, causing her to arch further back. Both shuddered and cried out from the change in sensation, and she nearly lost her grip on the table.
The combination of his momentum, the pleasure coursing through her body, and being hyper-alert of exactly where they were left Bella bit her own fist as her orgasm ripped through her, and she desperately tried not to scream.
Paul, however, didn't seem to care if anyone heard him at all as he nearly roared, flooding her walls as he pulsed inside her.
Bella dropped her cheek to the cold table top as she panted, trying to catch her breath while he carefully slid out of her. At the sound of his zipper closing, she carefully tried to stand. Once on her feet, Bella began tugging her pantyhose up, cursing herself for not wearing underwear beneath them. Between her arousal and the sticky mess he'd left her in, the pantyhose was ruined. She just hoped she didn't have any running down her thigh before she could reach a bathroom stall.
As she readjusted her dress over her pantyhose, Bella said, "This doesn't settle our argument, you know?"
Paul chuckled. His tone remained low, almost dark as he said, "Of course not. You never like anything that easy."
Bella glowered at him as she double-checked her dress before hurrying from the classroom toward the bathrooms down the hall, leaving him standing there, grinning.