"Jacob! Kiss me."
Her words stop Jacob in his tracks, and he's sure that he's imagined it. But he turns to look at her, and her eyes are pleading.
"I'm asking you to kiss me!"
He turns and looks at her standing there, all five feet five inches of her, her perfect chestnut hair falling down her shoulders, her rose-colored lips slightly parted. What choice does he have but to obey? He collides with her seconds later and takes her eager face in his hands. Their lips clash and then open, and this is everything he's ever wanted. His hands move down her slim waist and land on her hips, and this is everything he's ever wanted...
Isn't it?
Because as their tongues explore each other's mouths, his mind starts to wander and before he can stop it, his imagination, over which he has maintained such meticulous control, takes over. It isn't Bella's pale skin that he's touching; it's someone paler. Not her low, skinny hips that he's grasping, but someone taller, broader. Soft, supple curves are replaced by hard lines and edges. The lips he's tangling with are more experienced.
Colder.
They pull apart and he's terrified, terrified that she knows. When he speaks, he barely knows what he's saying. All he knows is that he has to convince her that she'd given him what he wanted.
"That should've been our first kiss," he breathes. She stares at him as she catches her breath and she doesn't say anything.
God, why isn't she saying anything?
"I gotta go," he says, eager to get out of there before he gives himself away--if he hasn't already. "I'll be back."
And then he turns, and he runs. Away from Bella, and away from what he's terrified she knows.
That it wasn't Edward he was jealous of at all.
It was her.
xxx a few minutes earlier
"Bella, let him-"
"Don't!" she snaps, pulling away from him. She turns sharply and hurries after the werewolf. "Jake, stop!"
He watches them disappear, and the satisfaction he'd felt at seeing Jacob's face when he heard the news disappears just as quickly, replaced by something he never expected to feel where any werewolf, much less Jacob Black, was concerned.
Guilt.
The young werewolf's mind is a flurry, but through it all is a distinct thought that drives him. He's heartbroken, and now he's ready to throw himself into battle headlong. He's ready to die.
Edward had been there himself, not so long ago. A part of him--a small part that should be easier to ignore--wants to follow. But he doesn't know what he would say, and even if he did it probably wouldn't help anyway. Besides, Bella is his friend, and she's good with this kind of thing. If anyone can back Jacob off the ledge, it's her.
And then Jacob's thoughts shift.
Did she really just say that?
She wants me to kiss her?
Holy shit, she did say it! She does want me to...
Edward tries to ignore what comes next, he really does. He certainly doesn't want to know how Jacob feels about kissing his fiancee. But then something...unexpected happens.
Something that grabs Edward's full attention.
Because in his mind, Jacob isn't kissing Bella anymore.
He's kissing Edward.
He can't look away. And, oddly, he isn't sure he wants to. He knows this twisted fantasy of Jacob's should repulse him but...
His chest tightens and he's suddenly dizzy, and he can feel heat rising in his cheeks. He closes his eyes and tries the best he can to immerse himself in Jacob's thoughts and he knows it's wrong, but he's helpless against the morbid fascination...
Holy shit.
He opens his eyes and tries not to panic.
He thinks, maybe, just maybe...he's caught feelings for a werewolf. The werewolf.
Even Alice could have never predicted this.
