Marked Chapter 17 - What the Hell Have I?

JPOV

I was struggling.

It made no sense, really. It was Wednesday, and Edward had been gone only since Monday afternoon. We'd talked on the phone every day, and it wasn't like I saw him all that often during the week under normal circumstances.

So why did it matter that he was in another state?

I didn't know why, but there was no denying that it was driving me insane. And yesterday morning, I'd proven just how pathetically attached I was when I sent Edward a text.

I couldn't seem to get him off my mind, and every time I picked up a pencil, I looked down only moments later to see him staring up at me. In a fit of…I don't even know what…Tuesday morning, I'd just needed him to know that I was thinking of him. I had taken a picture of one of the more complete drawings and texted it to him, along with a message letting him know I missed him.

It had made sense at the time.

But as soon as I'd hit "send," I had wished I could take it back – not because it wasn't true, but because it was way too fucking true. I don't know what I had expected in return, but I'd felt disappointed when all I got was a text saying he missed me, too. The sentiment was nice, but it felt…lacking somehow. I knew rationally that it was really goddamn early in the morning when I sent it, and the sketch had taken me hours, so it wasn't like he could just whip up something equal in return, but it just felt off. Unbalanced.

I didn't like that.

I sighed, turning off the shower and stepping out to grab my towel. I scrubbed it through my hair and then set about drying off my body, trying unsuccessfully to force Edward from my mind.

Last night, I had been determined not to call him after putting myself out there like that – at least, not until he had shown me he was thinking of me as well. I realized it was probably petty and childish, but I couldn't help feeling like I was in this deeper than he was…and that scared the shit out of me.

Unfortunately, that resolution turned out to be harder to keep than I'd expected. I had spent the whole night trying to occupy myself with anything and everything – and nothing worked. So around 9:00, I'd given up and gone to bed, only to have him finally call right around 10:00.

The sound of my phone startled me awake, and I rolled over, grabbing it from my nightstand. When I saw Edward's name on the screen, I nearly let my voicemail pick it up. I couldn't say why, exactly, but I was pissed…and more than that, I felt hurt.

I knew he was spending time with his family, but he was just on my mind every fucking minute, and it stung to realize that he wasn't thinking of me as often.

And yet…he was calling me.

I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to wake up, as I brought the phone to my ear. "'Lo?"

I listened as he told me he was sorry, the sound of his voice soothing some of the pain I'd felt. I gave a small smile, settling onto my back with my head on my pillow as I closed my eyes. We spoke for a few minutes about nothing of consequence – mostly just Edward apologizing for calling while I explained that I'd had a long day and hadn't been sleeping well – and as we neared the end of the conversation, I waited to hear him say he missed me.

He never did.

I wanted so badly to tell him I missed him and I wanted him here, but I just couldn't be the one to say it first. After a few more minutes, he said, "I really am sorry, baby…why don't you go back to sleep?"

I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to get rid of me, so I answered simply, "'Kay…good night."

All he said was "good night" in return. I ended the call and dropped the phone on my bed, putting both hands behind my head as I started up at my darkened ceiling. I wondered – and worried – if maybe I'd been reading him wrong. Maybe I really was way more into him than he was me.

It had taken me forever to fall back asleep after that, and as a result, the eyes that gazed back at me in the mirror were dull and bloodshot with dark shadows beneath them. I made a face at my reflection and ran my fingers through my hair. I'd shaved – only because I had to – but I still looked like I was hungover.

I shrugged and left the bathroom, heading for my closet, where I chose a gray suit and a muted tie with Monet's "Water Lilies." It was one of the first Emily had given me, and I idly thought of her as I wandered back into the bathroom, tying it along the way. I was not happy about the situation with James. After seeing him, the reservations I had were growing, strengthened by the way he'd flirted with every woman that walked by.

I tried to keep my mind away from Edward's suggestion that he was just a flirt. I knew it was a possibility – after all, Edward and I both were – but that wasn't what was going on with James. I just knew it somehow. But thinking of Edward and James brought to mind the one goddamn question I had been unable to answer for Edward…and that killed me.

I was staring out the window without really seeing anything – anything that was actually there, anyway. All I saw were ghosts, all I heard were Paul's weak reassurances that there was "nothing to worry about" and his accusations that I was being "an irrational, jealous prick."

Edward's hand squeezing mine was warm, and I glanced over, thankful to be pulled out of my memories. "Jasper? Emily is your sister. What do your instincts say about what's going on?"

I looked at James, frustration and anger rising up again as I saw him bend over, his eyes lingering on one woman's cleavage as he licked his lips. She giggled, and he raised his eyes back to her face, murmuring something. It was so sleazy, so obvious…so fucking familiar.

But I couldn't say that to Edward. I didn't know how to explain it, how to make him understand that what I sensed with James wasn't something that I could point to and say, "This is why I don't trust him." The truth was…I wasn't sure if I was right or not. I really didn't want to fuck things up for Emily, and I knew that my doubting James was wearing on her. My entire family was close, but she and I had the closest relationship by far, and I didn't want to jeopardize her trust and friendship by pushing her on this. At the same time, I'd be damned if I'd let that asshole fuck her over like Paul had done to me. The thought of him saying nasty things to Emily, hitting her…

I clenched my jaw, forcing the image away before I jumped up out of my seat and beat the hell out of him then and there. I took a few slow breaths, trying my best to calm myself, as I focused on Edward's question.

Edward was asking about my instincts – my gut reaction – and that was it. I didn't trust the fucker. Whether or not I was right, that was the way I felt, but I knew that I was jaded. The joke of a relationship I'd had with Paul had colored my perceptions. I knew that – hell, I dealt with it every damn day when it came to Edward and the way I was beginning to feel about him. That was the main reason I'd wanted him here…to see what he thought, to see if maybe I was off base and this James character really was okay.

I was just about to tell him so when his next words stopped me in my tracks. "Jasper...what do your instincts tell you about me?"

My head whipped around, and I gaped at him. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? What did he even mean?

I watched him, not even blinking, as I tried to understand where the question had come from. Was he warning me somehow without even realizing it? Was this a tell, a giveaway that he was a cheater, too? Why would he put himself in the same category as James?

Or was he implying something about me?

He seemed to grow nervous as I watched him, shifting in his seat and swallowing. He ran his fingers through his hair, telling me that I didn't have to answer. I felt my jaw clench as his words began to confirm my fears that he was more like Paul than I'd realized, but then he added, "Just…think about it?" and the sincerity and concern in his eyes was so genuine that I took a shallow breath and nodded.

He's not like Paul, I reminded myself. The look on his face helped bolster my resolve; there was a sinking feeling in my gut as I recognized the hurt in his eyes that he tried to hide. I had hurt him.

I'd never hurt Paul – I'd never had the power to. He had kept himself sealed away, locked up tight so that no one could get too close, but Edward just wasn't that way. So often, he let me see what he was feeling, the good and the bad, and I just…I wanted…

I sighed. I didn't know what I wanted. I knew I didn't want to see that hurt in his eyes. I didn't want to be the reason for it. But I truly couldn't read my instincts when it came to him. Part of me said to trust him implicitly, completely – just give myself to him and never look back.

And then there was the part of me that wanted to keep myself whole. Intact and unbroken, a functioning human being rather than the shattered mess I'd been after Paul.

My thoughts had been a hopeless, tangled snarl as I watched Edward go through the motions of paying the bill. We were nearly to my car when I just had to answer. I had to let him know something of how I felt, even if I couldn't really put it into words.

I grabbed his arm and whipped him around, pressing my body as close to his as I could. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my arms a vise around his waist as I mumbled something – I don't even know what. I wanted him to know I cared and that I was trying and that I hoped like hell that he wouldn't give up on me.

I realized with horror that there was a lump in my throat, and I cut off the stream of unintelligible words. Edward held me close, his hands rubbing soothingly along my arms as he kissed my cheek. "Shh, baby…it's okay," he murmured.

"No, it's not," I protested, squeezing him so tightly I was sure it had to be painful. I couldn't stop myself, though. I had no words to tell him what he meant to me – I wasn't even sure what he did mean to me. The fact that I was becoming so dependent on him terrified me…but I was even more afraid of losing him. I hated hurting him, and I knew that I was by not answering his question.

A sharp pain brought me out of my memories. I realized with a start that my right hand had tangled in my hair, and I was tugging it so hard that I'd pulled strands loose. I felt off-center and unsure – two sensations that I never liked. Thinking about Edward was getting me nowhere, so I tried to shut my brain off and just be for a while.

Soon, I was in my car on my way to work. The morning was clear and cool, and I tried to make my thoughts match the cloudless, serene skies. It didn't work, but it did at least help me get to the coffee shop, where I picked up our usual order and headed toward the office.

When I walked in, Ben met me at the door, taking some of the coffee from me as he smiled and thanked me again for bringing him the CD Edward had made. His face was pale, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look nearly as tired as I felt. His smile fell as he got a better look at me, and he lowered his voice, stepping closer as he whispered, "Hey, J…man, you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied, giving him the best smile I could muster. "Just have a headache."

The look on his face said he didn't believe me, but he kept his mouth shut as Mike walked over to grab his coffee. He started in immediately on the D.C. trip, and for once, I was grateful for his annoyingly cheerful morning self. He chattered away, needing only minimal response from me, and soon enough, I was able to focus on the project and push Edward to the back of my mind.

With Mike's questions out of the way, different conversations sprang up around me, and I listened idly as everyone talked. Ben gave a jaw-cracking yawn, his watery eyes blinking as he took another sip of his coffee. "Sorry," he mumbled to Eric, who had just started telling him about asking Demetri out for this weekend.

"It's alright, B…hey, is everything okay?" Eric asked.

Ben's smile was half-hearted as he nodded. He explained that with Angela back to work, they were alternating nights of baby duty so each of them got a good night's sleep at least every other night. He stretched as he stood, tossing his cup into the trashcan. "I was up with her every hour last night until two. I finally just left that CD playing on repeat and caught a few hours' sleep." He grinned and glanced over at me. "'Course I may have lost Angie to Edward. She already thinks he's gorgeous, and now I've got her listening to the man sing through the monitor all night."

I smiled in spite of my weird mood, remembering the times I'd heard Edward sing. He really did have an amazing voice, but watching him was even better. He was so absorbed, and he sang with such abandon…

A fit of melancholy struck me as the loneliness hit me again. How had my life turned so upside down that I couldn't function normally if he wasn't around? I frowned, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger as I vaguely heard the voices around me. It wasn't until I heard Mike's incredulous voice speaking that I looked up again.

"You haven't gotten any since your anniversary?"

I glanced over at Ben to find him frowning at Mike, rolling his eyes. "No, genius, that's not what I said. I said we haven't really had any alone time since our anniversary. Angie's my best friend," Ben said simply, shrugging. "I miss talking to her. Well, about something other than how many times Bella pooped, anyway."

Everybody laughed, Ben included, but when it quieted again, I said, "Hey, Ben, why don't you and Angie go out on Friday? I'll watch Bella."

I saw his eyes light up, but his brow furrowed as he said, "Are you sure? When's Edward coming back?"

"His boy toy won't be back 'til Monday," Mike said immediately.

"Mike-" Ben started, but in a fit of irritation, I cut him off.

"Don't fucking call him that, okay?" My voice was harsh, much too severe for a little joke coming from Mike. I sat back, running my fingers through my hair in frustration – at myself, at Mike, at the fact that my control was so thin I was snapping at nothing.

It was silent in the break room for a few seconds before Mike said, "Yeah, no problem…sorry, J. You know I didn't mean…"

"Yeah, I know." I grimaced and took a slow breath. "Sorry for snapping at you…even though you were being a douche." I grinned at him, and after a moment, he grinned in return. The look in his eyes promised a talk later, and my smile fell as I began to try to think of ways around it. He wouldn't say anything right away, though, so I turned to Ben and repeated my offer.

This time, Ben's excitement was plain to see as he said, "That would be awesome, J, seriously. You're sure you don't mind?" When I told him that I didn't, of course, he smiled brightly and said, "I'm gonna go call Angie, see what she wants to do…" He wandered away, mumbling something I couldn't catch under his breath, and my smile returned as I finished the last of my coffee.

It felt good – normal – to be doing something for my friends. I was even able to find some enthusiasm for Eric's news, and we spent a few minutes talking about how nervous he'd been to ask Demetri out again. D had said yes, so the two of them were going out Saturday night to a club they'd always loved. I could tell Eric was trying hard not to hope for what they'd had before, but he was failing miserably. He was beaming and talking so quickly he was hard to follow. Something in me ached as I listened to him, and I found myself wondering how Edward talked to other people about me. Did he look that enthralled?

Before long, we all headed to our respective offices and set to work. My morning was filled with meetings with the development and customer service departments as I tried to gather all the information I would need for the D.C. trip.

Felix brought me a roast beef sandwich on rye for lunch, and as I sat eating it at my desk, I kept glancing at my phone. I'd checked it from time to time all morning, hoping that I'd missed a message from Edward, but there was nothing. My fingers itched to text him, but I resisted. I had to set some boundaries for myself, and I was determined not to contact him until he'd gotten in touch with me again.

Instead, I finished my lunch quickly and picked up the office phone, calling my contact for the project in D.C. to touch base about a few key points in the programs they needed. I kept busy throughout the afternoon, checking in with the coders and stopping by to tell Eric about the changes the manager requested to the payroll part of the program.

I managed to avoid Mike all day, but as I was stopping by the little Greek deli a block from my apartment, I realized that might have been a bad idea. I didn't want to talk about Edward, but now I was faced with a night completely alone. The Sox weren't on, and I could not think of one single thing I wanted to do.

I pulled into the parking lot of my complex and turned off the car. I sat there for a few minutes, gazing up at my window as I contemplated calling Mike. I didn't know if he had any plans for the night, but I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see him anyway. In the end, I climbed out of the car and walked into the building with my dinner in one hand and my keys in the other, my phone untouched in my jacket pocket.

When the elevator doors opened, I was staring at my feet. I stepped forward and saw a pair of tennis shoes just before I bumped into something solid.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I said, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

At the same time, a deep voice said, "Oh, damn, sorry about that. I was looking at my phone…"

I glanced up at the same time he did, and our voices trailed off. We stood watching each other for a second until the little old lady from the fifth floor said, "Excuse me," and brushed past him. He glanced down with a faint blush on his cheeks and mumbled an apology.

When he looked back up, I was met with gorgeous blue-gray eyes in a tanned face. His eyes widened as he looked at me, and then his lips curved into a smile as he held out his hand. "Hey…I'm Jason."

"Jasper," I said, feeling a smile on my lips for the first time all afternoon. I felt an irrational urge to shout out, I'm seeing someone! and fought it, reaching out to shake his hand. It wasn't like I planned to do anything; he was just a good-looking guy who seemed nice.

A really good-looking guy. Damn.

"Nice to meet you," I said finally, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as he answered in kind. For some reason, my mind conjured Edward's smile, and I smiled in response, loneliness crashing down on me again as I wished he could just be here with me. I would even make that curry he liked so much and not give him too much shit about his hard-on for Asian food.

Seriously…don't think about Edward and hard-ons.

Jason was just standing there, smiling at me, so I cleared my throat and said, "Well, I guess I'll see you around," as I started to step toward the elevator. I didn't know what was wrong with me. It wasn't like me to be this…awkward around new people, regardless of gender…or age…or beauty.

And he was beautiful. It was a different sort of handsome than Edward – a little more clean-cut, more like me, if I were to be honest. But I found that looking at him just made me miss Edward all the more, and I didn't want that. I tried to escape, but he stopped me with a warm hand on my arm.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, my eyebrows raised questioningly. He smiled again. "Hey, I'm sort of new in town, only been here a couple of months. I was just wondering if you knew of any place cool to hang out?"

As he spoke, I realized he had an interesting accent, just a hint of the old South, and I turned toward him again, smiling. "Yeah? What brings you to Boston?"

We talked for a few minutes, stepping out of the way as people came up to use the elevator. He told me he was from Atlanta and had moved here to attend Harvard Law, but he'd been so busy with his schoolwork that he hadn't had a chance to see much of the city yet. I told him about the Cask 'n Flagon and Aro's, but when he said he hadn't been to Fenway Park yet, I said, "Are you kidding? You didn't get out there for any games this year? That's a crime, man."

He laughed, and I shifted the bag with my food from one hand to the other, drawing his eyes. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he said, glancing up at me with a smile. "I'm keeping you from dinner. Hey, it was nice to meet you, Jasper…I'm in 406 if you ever feel like stopping by."

I felt blood rush up my neck, heating my cheeks as his eyes roamed my body briefly. His gaze met mine again, and he smiled broadly, turning away with a "See you around!"

I stood there a moment longer, watching as he walked through the glass doors and paused, pulling earbuds from his pocket and popping them in. I took the opportunity to really look at him at last, realizing that he was dressed to exercise in track pants and a tight gray Under Armour shirt. He took off down the block at a jog, and I turned toward the elevator, pressing the button as I waited for it to arrive again.

As I rode the short distance to my floor, I thought back over our conversation and realized he'd been openly flirting with me. I frowned, not quite sure what to do with that as I walked down the hallway to my door. I shook my head as I put my key in the lock, dismissing him from my mind.

Edward immediately settled in again. As I walked into my darkened apartment, I saw his eyes watching me, smelled that fragrance of sage and sweetgrass and cedar, felt his lips making those slow, torturous journeys along my flesh. I shivered, took a deep breath, and tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter, trying my damndest to find some sort of happy medium, some place where he was there in my thoughts, but I could actually still function like a normal human being.

So far, it wasn't happening.

I went through the apartment, following my normal routine as I changed out of my work clothes and into lounge pants. I pulled on a white tank top and ran my fingers through my hair, padding barefoot back to the kitchen to serve up my dinner before taking it to the living room.

The souvlaki reminded me of that first lunch with Edward, and I kept thinking of how nervous I was as I ate. I smiled as I sat back, putting my feet up on the coffee table and sipping my sweet tea. We'd been such idiots, dancing around the issue, wondering and hoping but never just fucking asking. I patted my pocket, looking for my phone to call him, just to talk about all of that.

And then I realized two things.

First, my phone wasn't there – I'd left it in my jacket when I hung it up in the closet – and second, I still wasn't calling him. I was waiting for him to call me.

Just that quickly, my light-hearted mood faded away, and I scowled as I doggedly finished my dinner. The food had lost its taste, but I forced it down and deliberately took my plate into the kitchen, washing it by hand and putting it away before I went to grab my phone.

I opened my closet door and walked inside, searching through my jackets until I found the one I'd worn today. I pulled the phone from the pocket, hating the little fluttering in my chest as I turned it slowly around to see the screen.

No fucking missed calls. No messages. Not a goddamn thing to tell me he was thinking of me at all.

I pulled my arm back, about to throw the damn phone at the wall, but then I lowered it, the infuriating piece of plastic and metal clenched tightly in my fist as I went back to the living room. I threw it onto the coffee table and went into the kitchen again, grabbing a container of Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream from the freezer and a spoon from the drawer. I flipped the top onto the counter and peeled the plastic seal off, throwing it away before I took my dessert right back to my place on the couch.

I spent well over an hour there, my feet propped on the coffee table as I methodically ate my way through thirteen hundred calories of peanut butter and chocolate. It reminded me – as every-fucking-thing seemed to – of Edward and the pie I'd made for him. I forced the memory to the back of my mind as I focused instead on the mindless game show on TV. I did my best not to think of anything at all – not how bored and lonely I was, not the million other things I'd rather be doing – but none of it seemed to help. Licking my spoon clean one last time, I dropped it into the empty carton, which I set on the end of the table.

I stretched out on the couch on my side, a sick feeling in my stomach, though I couldn't tell if it was from the ridiculous amount of sugar and milk or from something else. I picked up the remote, flipping through channels aimlessly, but nothing caught my eye. Within minutes – and two full rotations through the channels – I knew I was going to have to do something. The lack of human contact was wearing on me. I could try to call Mike or one of the other guys, but I really didn't want to have to talk – or think – about what was going on with me.

I sighed, picking up my phone. I opened the contacts list and scrolled through, but as each of the names came up, I quickly dismissed it. When I finally saw Home, I smiled, a sense of relief washing over me. I hit the call button and stretched out again, this time on my back with my head on the arm of the couch and my ankles crossed.

"Hello! You've reached the Whitlocks. I'm so sorry, but we can't come to the phone right now…"

As I listened to my mother's voice from the answering machine, I scrubbed my face with my free hand, sighing as I tried to contain my disappointment. I was all set to just leave a message when I heard a click.

"Hello?" she answered breathlessly.

"Hey, Mama." I could hear the smile in my voice as it settled on my lips, and I knew at once that this was what I needed.

"Jasper! It's so good to hear your voice! You caught me out in the garden picking a head of cabbage…"

I relaxed as I listened to her rattle on and on about the crops on the ranch. It was primarily a cattle ranch, but Mama had kept a garden and a cornfield for as long as I could remember. She prided herself on her home-grown vegetables, and she rarely made a meal where at least one of them didn't figure prominently.

All too soon, she wound down and said, "So tell me…how's life in Boston? Have you seen Emily? Is she behaving herself?"

The stern note in her voice put a grin on my face as I told her about the pottery classes Emily and I were taking. I didn't mention Edward; I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to think about him anymore, and I sure didn't want the first time I really talked to Mama about him to be when I wasn't even sure if there was anything to talk about anymore.

There is…there has to be…

I turned my attention back to what Mama was saying, swallowing the lump in my throat as I heard her say, "Jasper, baby, are you sure you're okay? You don't sound right, honey…"

I smiled, shaking my head. The woman never missed anything. I cleared my throat, hoping like hell that my voice would come out normal. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired…I've been working a lot lately to get ready for this trip I've got to take to D.C. in a couple of weeks."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and I could tell she didn't believe me. I didn't know what tactic she would take, but I tried to head her off as I said, "So, has Emily told you about this guy she's seeing?"

She paused. "Yes, she mentioned James the last time she called. He sounds like a nice boy. Have you met him?"

Nice boy, my ass.

I rolled my eyes, balancing the heel of my left foot on my right toes as I tried to think of how to answer. "No, I haven't met him yet. He's…" I bit the inside of my cheek before plunging ahead. "I don't like him, Mama. I think there's something wrong with him."

I appreciated the way she took a moment to absorb my words before she said, "What makes you say that, sweetie?"

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled loudly and tugged at my hair. "I don't really know," I said honestly. "He just seems…dishonest." Yeah, that's one way to put it. "Three times now, we were supposed to meet, but something always comes up. He has to work or whatever…"

Mama said, "Emily mentioned that he's been working a lot. She said he just started a new job. I'm sure he's just busy."

My jaw clenched as I tried to think of something to say. In the end, I couldn't, and it was Mama who finally broke the silence. "Jasper, is there something you're not telling me?" Her voice was stern, carrying that I-won't-tolerate-any-foolishness tone that I'd learned so well as a child.

I sighed. "No, Mama. I just…I don't feel right about him." I debated telling her about seeing him the other day at lunch, but I didn't know how I felt about admitting that I'd essentially stalked him. Besides, it would mean bringing up Edward, which I knew I wasn't ready to do.

"You always were protective of Emily…ever since the day she was born." Fondness and love sang in her words, and I bit my tongue as I listened to her tell stories about how I'd been with Emily at the hospital, so careful when I held her for the first time. She reminded me of the time I'd gone off on Emily when she crashed on her bike and gave herself a concussion. She hadn't been wearing her helmet, and I'd made her cry when I'd told her how stupid that was. I couldn't help it – she'd scared the hell out of me. As I listened to her talk, I heard what she wasn't saying…I was being overprotective and irrational, and I was letting my desire to protect Emily color my feelings for James.

It was bullshit.

I wished, yet again, that Edward were here. He, at least, seemed willing to listen to what I had to say about James. I really appreciated the way he tried to give me confidence in my instincts rather than making me doubt them all the more – but maybe he was wrong. Maybe we both were. I didn't know what to believe anymore as I listened to Mama talk about me and Emily and all the things Lee Lee had told her about James.

"Lee has a good head on her shoulders, baby. I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate you looking out for her. You know we would never have let her move all the way to Boston if it hadn't been for you…but you have to let her grow up sometime, sweetie." I made a small noise of disbelief, my eyes widening. "I know it's hard – believe me. I still worry every single day about all three of you. Eventually, though, you've just got to let people live life for themselves."

I spent a few minutes taking in her words, and they were still ringing in my ears when I said, "I love you, Mama…tell Daddy I love him, too."

"I will…and you give our love to Emily. We love and miss you both. Can't wait until you come home."

We spoke just a little while longer about Thanksgiving. Typically, Emily and I flew home together, and this year would be no different. I could hear the excitement in Mama's voice, but even though I was looking forward to seeing my family, I couldn't drum up the same enthusiasm. My voice fell flat, and I could tell she knew something was wrong, but she didn't press me on it. When we finally hung up, I was exhausted and out of sorts.

I had thought talking to her would be calming, but it had exactly the opposite effect. I was tense and anxious still, frustrated now that I couldn't make her see what I saw in James.

And I was disappointed that I hadn't been able to tell her about Edward – that I didn't know what to tell her about Edward.

"Fuck this night," I said aloud as I stood up and wandered into my bedroom. I didn't bother cleaning anything up or putting it away. I just stripped out of my clothes and fell into bed, pulling the covers all the way over my head as I waited for oblivion to take me.

It was still early, so I half-hoped that Edward would call and wake me. I wasn't used to going this long without talking to him, and as I rolled over, hugging his pillow to my chest, I didn't like it.

When my alarm woke me in the morning, I was in a foul mood. I'd gone from being lonely and some strange mixture of sad and angry to being downright pissed the fuck off.

Motherfucker doesn't want to talk to me? Fine.

He didn't have to. As I showered and dressed, I kept up a steady rant, a list of annoyances and threats and promises that I knew in the back of my mind were utter bullshit. I would answer immediately if he called – and I'd probably be some ball-less pussy who couldn't stop telling him how much I missed him.

When the fuck did this happen?

By the time I was dressed and on my way to work, I calmed down. A little. The drive helped, giving me time to breathe and think and remind myself that he was visiting his family. He was spending one week with them while I'd had him largely to myself for the past couple of months. It was childish and selfish to expect him to call me constantly.

Or so I tried to convince myself.

It partially worked, but when I still hadn't heard from him by noon, I knew I needed to call in reinforcements. I had carefully avoided Mike again, but after I'd finished my lunch, I sucked it up and walked down the hallway to his office. His door was open, and I knocked on the frame before sticking my head inside.

He wheeled around in his chair and froze, putting his hands on his desk to stop himself short. "Hey, J…what's up?" His voice was cautious, making me sigh and roll my eyes as I stepped inside and ran my fingers through my hair.

I sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk with my legs sprawled in front of me before speaking. "Sorry I was being a dick, man. I just…" I grimaced and shrugged. "Just having a bad week."

"It's cool. I had a really hard time the first few times Jessica was out of town, too," he said simply.

The comparison of our relationships struck me, but I didn't say anything about it. I just nodded and said, "So, I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight? Maybe see if Eric and Ben want to come?"

"Sure," he answered with a smile before his eyes narrowed. "What's going on, J?"

I sighed and looked down at my hands in my lap. I watched my fingers as I tried to come up with something to say – some explanation for why I was all over the fucking map this week. The part that pissed me off was that I thought Mike knew…he just wanted to hear me say it.

Fucker.

"Nothing's going on…" I started, glancing over at Mike when I heard him sigh. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, looking down at my hands again. "I miss Edward," I finally admitted begrudgingly.

"Yeah, I got that much." I raised my head in surprise to find him giving me a wry smile. "But there's something else going on. What is it?"

I frowned in confusion. "It's just…that. What the hell do you mean?"

He licked his lips as his brow furrowed, and he reached out to pick up a pen before tapping it incessantly back and forth. "The last few weeks, I've seen you happier than you've ever been – and I mean that literally. You're smiling and joking and singing and fucking drawing him everywhere. So I expected you to be upset while he's gone…lonely, you know? But you're…" He trailed off, and the pen froze for a moment. "You're pissed, J. Why?"

Tap tap tap tap tap.

My eyes followed the motion of the pen as the sound irritated me, making the agitation in my chest swell. I reached out, snatching the pen from his hand, and then sat back again, twisting it while I studied it carefully. My throat felt tight as I considered his words. "Because he didn't call yesterday."

And I'm scared as fuck that I care more about him than he does me.

I couldn't say that last part out loud. I could barely handle thinking it, but I knew it was true. It was the real reason my moods were so mercurial. I didn't know if I could trust Edward – especially if I could trust him not to hurt me.

Mike exhaled loudly. After so many years, I knew what he was about to say and the tone I would hear. I braced myself, already preparing my answer. "He's just busy. He's down there visiting his family, right?" he said reasonably.

I nodded. "I know. You're right."

There was silence in the office for a long moment. "Jasper." I lifted my eyes from the pen and turned them to him without moving my head. "You're really worried, aren't you?"

"Could we not talk about this?" I heard the near-whine in my voice and clenched my jaw.

"No. We need to talk about this because you need to know that I can tell Edward cares about you. I think…" He broke off and studied me, tilting his head as his eyes flickered back and forth between mine. I could tell by the way his eyes darkened that he changed what he was about to say, but I didn't call him on it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. "I think you two are good together."

I nodded again, but I was having a hard time absorbing his words. They flitted through my mind like water on a hot skillet, bouncing and hissing as they skidded around too quickly for me to catch. Mike must've seen something on my face because he took pity on me, changing the subject. "But yeah, go ask Ben and Eric if they want to do something. Maybe we could hit up Kings? It's been awhile."

I smiled, both in relief and approval. "Now, that's a fucking great idea…" I tossed the pen back onto his desk and put my hands on the armrests, pushing myself up. I stretched my arms over my head, feeling something in me relax at the thought of a night out with the guys.

Definitely what I fucking need.

As I was on my way out, Mike said, "Oh, shit…better ask Felix, too. He'll be pissed if we go without him."

"Will do, boss," I said over my shoulder on the way out the door. I caught sight of him staring at me thoughtfully, but I didn't give him a chance to say anything else. I made the rounds through the office, and when all was said and done, Eric and Felix had both agreed to go. Ben had plans with Angela and her parents that night, so he had to bow out, but not before he told me how excited Angie had been when he told her about my offer to babysit.

"We're going out for dinner at Aro's and then to see a movie, if that's alright," he said.

"Of course it is." I chuckled. "Hell, make a whole night of it if you want…I've got nowhere to be."

He smiled but shook his head. "We would, but they have some Mommy and Me yoga class Saturday morning that Ang doesn't want to miss." He looked mildly disappointed, but he continued, "And I told her dad I'd help him paint the garage while they're out."

"Guess I'll have to offer earlier next time, eh?"

He grinned at me and told me they were just happy that I'd offered at all – babysitters had been scarcer since Bella started having trouble sleeping. We talked for a few more minutes before I excused myself to finish up with work for the day. I noticed that I had an easier time concentrating, though whether it was from my brief talk with Mike or the plans I had that evening, I wasn't sure.

We all left right around five with plans to meet up at 6:30 at Kings. I'd made dinner reservations for four, as we fully planned to make a guys' night of it, complete with unhealthy food and too much beer.

When I arrived home, I changed quickly into jeans and a red long-sleeved t-shirt with a gray stripe over the chest and down the sleeves. I debated for a moment and then topped it with the Red Sox cap I'd borrowed from Edward over the weekend. It had ended up stuffed in my bag along with my clothes, and I'd intended to return it to him as soon as he got back. I wasn't sure why I was wearing it tonight, other than that it made me feel closer to him somehow.

You're fucking hopeless, dude.

I shoved the thought away and pulled my phone out of my pocket, calling for a cab. I wasn't sure how much I'd have to drink, but I figured it was a safe bet that I wouldn't be up for driving later. I grabbed a bottle of water and walked to my window, staring down at the parking lot as I waited for the cab to arrive.

I saw someone come jogging out of the entryway below and leaned forward, recognizing the guy I'd met in the elevator – Jason. At least I thought it was him. I idly wondered why I'd never seen him before, if he'd been living there a couple of months, but I guessed he'd been busy with school.

The arrival of my cab pushed him from my mind, and I stepped out into the hallway, locking my door behind me. I pulled my phone from my pocket out of habit and sighed at the blank screen.

Just call me. Please.

I set my phone to vibrate and stuck it back in my pocket, resolving not to think of Edward anymore. If I got a call, I'd check to make sure it wasn't Emily or anything that looked like an emergency, but otherwise, I wouldn't answer. Tonight was about me and my friends and trying to get a little bit of my independence back.

The thought put a strange little smile on my face as I climbed into the cab. Within minutes, I was crawling out again and making my way into Kings. Eric was already there, and he waved me over. As soon as I sat down, the waitress arrived with a round of margaritas, making me raise an eyebrow at Eric.

He just grinned. "I figure if we finish these before the others get here, our next is waiting."

I laughed at his logic and picked up a glass, taking a long pull. I gave a content sigh as I tasted the tequila, and I felt the first stirrings of the restlessness that usually led to me getting completely hammered.

I hoped that the thought of work tomorrow would keep me in check, but I wasn't sure it would – or that I truly wanted it to.

As we drank and waited for the others to arrive, Eric filled me in on what was going on with Demetri. He told me that they'd left the Cask after the baseball game and gone to D's place to talk. He'd ended up spending the night because their conversation had carried on well past midnight, but nothing had happened between the two of them. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, but there was hope as well, especially when he said, "Fuck, J, you have no idea how nervous I was, but when I asked him if he wanted to go out next Saturday – I figured he might already have plans this weekend, you know? And I didn't want to know about it, to be completely honest…" He waited until I nodded before he continued, "He asked me what was wrong with this Saturday."

The smile on his face was infectious, and I found myself grinning as I congratulated him again. My smile faded, though, and I blurted out, "Can I ask you something, E?"

"'Course, man." He lifted his margarita to his lips and glanced around, looking for the guys.

"What really happened with you and D?"

His eyes flashed back to my face as he lowered his glass. He frowned at me, and I started to just tell him he didn't have to answer, but for some reason, I needed to know. We all knew in vague terms that they had wanted different things and that it had been Demetri's choice to end their relationship, but I needed to hear the true reason.

I had no fucking idea why.

"Well…" he began, shifting in his seat so that he was turned toward me with his arm draped over the back. "You know D's a lot younger than us…" I nodded, encouraging him to go on. Demetri had just turned twenty when he'd approached Eric at a club while we were all out. He'd been bold, cutting in on us when Eric and I were dancing, and I'd been able to tell right away that Eric was completely into him. That had been over two years ago now.

"He just…" Eric shook his head, his brow furrowing as he stared at the glass in his hands. "Out of the fucking blue a few months ago, he came up to me and told me he needed some space. He graduates this year, and I guess I was smothering him. I'm just ready for it all, you know? And he's not…and, really, I shouldn't expect him to be. I mean, fuck…do you remember me at twenty-two?" Eric snorted and looked up at me at last.

"But you want him to be," I observed quietly.

"More than anything."

I felt a fluttering of panic and familiarity at his words and the look in his eyes. It was a look I'd seen often…on Edward's face. I swallowed thickly, completely at a loss as to what to say. Eric just sat there, drinking his margarita, and finally, I cleared my throat. "So, what…"

"There they are!" he said, lifting his hand to wave. I followed his gaze and saw Felix and Mike heading toward us. I felt a minor flaring of annoyance at having been interrupted when I felt I was on the brink of…something…but mostly I felt relieved.

As soon as they sat down with us, the heavy atmosphere evaporated in a flurry of adolescent jokes and raucous laughter. Time seemed to speed up as we placed our order and the waitress delivered another round of drinks.

By the time I bit into my Angry Burger, I had a nice buzz going and my tension from earlier was fading into the background. We talked about everything and nothing at all as we ate. For the first time in a while, things felt…normal. I didn't forget about Edward by any means, but he wasn't this black hole that sucked in each and every thought and left me a useless mess.

After we finished eating, Mike surprised us by picking up the tab – which was pretty damn hefty, considering the number of drinks we'd had and the full rack of ribs Felix had polished off on top of his half a barbecued chicken.

Eric watched him in awe, his eyes wide, and when Felix finished wiping his hands, Eric said, "Dude, you know you're going to have a heart attack by the time you're thirty, right?"

Felix just laughed and sat back, rubbing his stomach. "Then I'll die a very happy, well-fed man."

I could tell from the look on Eric's face that he was about to launch into one of his fitness rants, so I stood up and said, "So, what do we want to hit up first? Lanes or tables?"

We decided to bowl a few games first since Felix said he owed us some payback from the last time. We spent the next couple of hours just relaxing and talking, giving each other shit over the easy shots we missed thanks to a few too many beers. We all opened up tabs and kept the drinks coming, though I was vaguely aware that I was drinking a little faster than the others.

Around 10:30 – still too early for my tastes – the other guys decided it was time to head home. Eric was laughing as he helped me into the cab we were splitting. He said something to Mike about my being drunk, but I couldn't decide if he was right or not. I was pretty sure I was at least still walking in a straight line…sort of. I could definitely still function, so I couldn't have been that bad off.

The cab ride seemed to take forever, and we spent it in silence. I glanced over to find Eric staring out the window, and I was surprised to see that he looked…sad, I thought. Or maybe he was just thinking hard about something. Either way, I got the impression that he didn't want to talk about anything, which was fine with me.

We got to my apartment first, and as I was climbing out of the cab, I told Eric good night. He said, "Night, J," absentmindedly.

I was doubled over, one hand on the door of the cab and the other on the frame while I stuck my head inside. I watched him for a moment, fighting my hazy mind to figure out what to do. As I stood there, he turned his face my way – probably to figure out what the hell I was doing and why they were still sitting there. He watched me in silence and then snorted when I swayed. "You good to make it upstairs?" he asked.

I frowned and nodded, wondering if I should ask him what was wrong, but he grinned at me and said, "Then get your drunk ass inside. Don't forget we have a staff meeting at 8:30."

I groaned, the real world crashing back down on me as I remembered that it was only Thursday night. I stepped back and closed the door without answering, and I could hear Eric laughing inside the cab. As I walked into the building, I yawned and scratched the back of my head, my lack of quality sleep catching up with me under the weight and warmth of alcohol.

The elevator was deserted, and my eyes drifted closed as it ascended slowly. When the bell dinged and the doors opened, I stumbled out and down the hall before struggling a bit with my keys. Soon, I was inside my dark apartment, where the emptiness seemed to loom oppressively.

At once, I felt as if a physical weight had settled on my shoulders, and all of the light-hearted fun of the night disappeared. I couldn't stand the thought of going to my room – alone – so I kicked off my shoes and stripped down to my boxers. I flopped down on the couch and pulled the throw blanket from the corner over me, kicking it irritably until it finally covered my feet.

Then I passed the fuck out.

I woke up to the sound of my apartment phone ringing, though it took me a minute to figure out that's what it was. "Motherfucking bullshit fucking…" I kept up a muttered stream of curses as I staggered around the living room, trying to get to the damn phone on the kitchen wall.

My eyes were still closed when I picked it up with a "What?"

Mike's annoying chuckle came through the phone. "Morning, Sunshine!"

"What the fuck, Mike?" I winced, putting the heel of my left hand on my forehead to try to stop the throbbing.

"You didn't answer your cell, so I figured you were still sleeping it off. Didn't want you to miss work."

As much as I wanted to be pissed at him, I gave a half-smile at the way he always looked out for me – a very small half-smile, as all I really wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep until next Wednesday. "Didn't hear my cell…" I frowned then, remembering that I'd set it to vibrate and hadn't bothered checking it all night.

Fuck.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome. Now get cleaned up and get to work."

"Yeah, yeah, I will…" I paused, scrubbing my hand through my hair. "Hey, Mike? Thanks, man."

"No problem. See ya there."

He hung up, and I stood there yawning for a moment before I hung up the phone and glanced at the clock on the microwave.

6:08.

Shit!

So much for getting there early.

I stepped out of my kitchen and took a look around. My apartment was becoming a goddamn dump with the way I'd just been leaving shit everywhere. I grumbled to myself as I went back to the couch and searched for my pants. I found them stuck half-under the couch and pulled them out, retrieving my phone from the pocket before I just dropped them back where they were. I would definitely have to clean the place soon, but now wasn't the time.

After clearing the one missed call, I stared at the blank screen as it mocked me, not only reminding me of the time but showing me that no one other than Mike had tried to call or message me. Logically, I knew that the majority of the people who would call me had been with me last night, but that didn't stop me from being annoyed with the one very important guy who hadn't been.

I tightened my grip on my phone as if I were punishing it for its silence and stalked down the hall to my room. I dropped it on the unmade bed, which I tried not to look at. How was it that so much of my life had become tangled up in memories of Edward? It was insane. It wasn't like we lived together, so why did I think of my bed as ours?

I gritted my teeth as I stripped and started the shower, taking the few minutes while the water was warming to pick out clothes for the day. I took full advantage of it being Friday, not even bothering with a tie as I grabbed a pair of jeans and a blue button down shirt. I pulled out my last pair of clean boxers and went back into the bathroom, leaving the clothes on the counter as I stepped into the shower.

The water was nearly scalding, and my head seemed to be pounding in time with my pulse. I felt ill, nauseated and weak, almost as if I had the flu rather than a hangover.

When will you ever fucking learn, Whitlock?

Apparently it would take one more time, at the very least. I shook my head at myself as I cleaned up, washing my hair and wishing like hell that I could skip the shaving. Since I couldn't, I made short work of it and was soon climbing out of the shower to the brisk air of my apartment. I muttered under my breath as I dried off and dressed, and I was nearly to the kitchen before I had to double back for my phone.

I stopped by the side of my bed, still rolling up my sleeves, and when I picked up the phone, I turned it over to look at the screen out of habit.

1 missed call
Edward

His name stared back at me as I held the phone gingerly. As I watched, the little symbol lit up, letting me know I had a voicemail, and I realized I must have just missed his call. I frowned, making my way back to the kitchen as I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat. I checked the message first, unsure if I was going to call back or not, but as I listened to his voice and heard his uncertainty and…longing, I thought…something in me cracked.

I hit the number to save the message – I wasn't sure why – and sat the phone down deliberately, picking up my spoon and taking a few bites of my corn flakes as I tried to think things through. I needed to talk to him, that much was certain, but I had no idea what the fuck to say or how to act. His last words kept resounding in my mind, "I...I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I...well...just that I miss you. Call me?"

What had he been about to say?

I let my spoon drop back in my bowl and picked up the phone. I still wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I really didn't have time to waste this morning, and I suddenly felt a driving need to talk to him. I decided as the phone started ringing to just follow his lead. I would not tell him I missed him, not unless he said it first.

I nodded to myself sternly and then jumped like a fucking idiot when his voice said, "Jasper?"

I couldn't help but smile at the greeting. He sounded hopeful, and I felt such a strong pull to him just then that it was nearly impossible to stop words from spewing out of my mouth – words begging him to come back to Boston early, to come see me, to fall into bed with me. I swallowed it all down, telling him instead that I'd been in the shower when he called. When he said he missed me, I meant to just tell him I missed him, too, but I couldn't help the pain I know he heard in my voice. I didn't really believe him – or, more accurately, I wanted so badly to believe him that I didn't trust myself to see the truth.

His quiet, sure, "Every day, baby," was musical, and I nearly missed the rest of what he had to say as it seemed to help something in me relax. He told me that he'd needed to hear my voice and that it felt like it had been forever. When I thought back to how ridiculously long this week had been, I couldn't stand the thought of a few more days without seeing him.

Immediately, my tension was back, especially when I realized that I really needed to hit the road if I was going to make it on time. I heard the question in his voice when he said, "I'll talk to you later?"

His need for reassurance was somehow comforting to me as I said, "You better, sweetheart." I couldn't bring myself to say all the things that I wanted to say – all those strange feelings that kept bubbling up inside me – but the last thing I wanted was for him to think I didn't care when nothing could have been further from the truth.

Too soon, his welcome voice was gone, and I was on my way to the office. The day was unremarkable, so much like the rest of the week that I wondered why this monotony had been easier to handle before Edward came into my life. I managed to make it through the workday without dwelling on anything in particular too much, and when five o'clock rolled around, Ben stopped by to thank me again and confirm our plans for the night.

I told him I was just going home to change and grab my sketchpad and that I would be at their place as soon as I was done. The grin on his face was so massive that I would've never stopped teasing Mike if it had been him, but I left Ben alone. He'd always been the most shy and awkward of the four of us, so the fact that he'd gotten married at all – never mind first – was sort of sacred or some shit.

I was in and out of my apartment quickly, dressed in a comfortable t-shirt beneath my leather jacket. After checking the weather, I'd decided to take my motorcycle, so I grabbed my helmet and backpack on the way out the door. As I was getting out of the elevator, I passed by Jason, who was heading in with a couple of grocery sacks. I smiled at him as I said, "Hey," and he stopped for a moment, his eyes roaming from my feet to my head and then back to the helmet in my hand.

He shook himself, and I saw a faint blush climbing his neck as he nodded and said, "Hey there," with a smile.

I said, "Have a good night," and kept walking, heading to the garage, where I kept my baby. Most people paid for the garage space to protect their cars, but my motorcycle was far more valuable to me. It was chilly out, and I knew I should probably take my car, but I just felt like enjoying the freedom my bike afforded.

Soon I was speeding down the streets toward Ben's house, the wind whistling past my ears. My hands were quickly frozen, but that was alright with me. When I pulled up to their place, I parked my bike beside their car in the short driveway and took off my helmet, hanging it over my arm as I walked to the front door.

Before I even had a chance to knock, Ben opened the door and ushered me inside with a wide grin. "Hey, J! Thanks again…we really appreciate it." He was babbling even as I stepped inside, and I chuckled while I took off my backpack and jacket.

"Not a problem, man. I'm glad I could help." And I was. Seeing him so happy was definitely worth it, as was the beaming smile on Angie's face when she stepped out of Bella's bedroom and closed the door quietly.

She was wearing a very pretty, short dress covered in blue flowers that I recognized from before her pregnancy, and I could see the pride in her eyes. "Well, now, don't you look stunning?" I took a few steps toward her, glancing over my shoulder to wink at Ben before I took her hand and kissed it. "It's a good thing you're married, or I might be tempted to change sides."

She laughed, slapping lightly at my shoulder as she hugged me fiercely. "Good thing, indeed…I know a man who would be very disappointed if that happened."

"Damn right I would," Ben said dryly.

Angie rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, hush. I didn't mean you."

She pulled away from me then, going to give Ben a kiss, and I took a much-needed moment to collect myself as I absorbed her words. I struggled to keep my bitter thoughts away, the ones that made me wonder if Edward was thinking of me or cared at all.

He does. I know he does.

Doesn't he?

Thankfully, I didn't have time to watch myself spiral straight back into the depression that had been haunting me all week because Angela started rattling off Bella's schedule. She'd left me a note again – but this time, it was much shorter since I'd be there only a few hours. The notebook was still there, though, and I bit back my grin at how prepared she was.

"Most likely, she'll just sleep the whole time we're gone -" We both caught Ben's incredulous look before he rolled his eyes. Ang pinched his side and kept on going without a pause, "but if she wakes up, just check to see if she needs changing and try to get her to go back to sleep. We're trying to teach her that she doesn't need to eat every time she wakes up. If all else fails, just hit play on the CD player, and you should be golden."

She gave a few more instructions and then stood there biting her lip like she was forgetting something until Ben leaned down and whispered something, kissing her ear and making her giggle. I smiled at them and shooed them both out the door, whispering loudly to Angela, "Just give me a call if you decide to take pity on poor Ben and take him to a hotel."

"Jasper!" She tried to sound scandalized but ended up laughing, and she and Ben were already talking animatedly as they walked out to their car. I shut the door and locked it with a sigh, running my fingers through my hair before leaning down to pick up my backpack and take it to the couch.

Their house was normally full of life and sounds, as there were often several of us here at once playing games or just hanging out. The silence made me feel out of place, as if I were an intruder, and I tried to shrug it off as I pulled out my sketchbook and a pencil. The baby monitor was already turned on, but there was no sound coming through it, so I turned the TV on, making sure the volume was low.

After flipping through channels for a while, I finally left it on some random standup comic on Comedy Central. I wasn't really going to be watching anyway – I just needed the noise to help me get into a relaxed enough state to draw.

I settled in, making myself as comfortable as possible, but my phone kept digging into my hip. I pulled it out and put it on the coffee table after checking to make sure the sound was on. I hadn't heard from Emily, which was unusual since we had a pottery class in the morning, and I didn't want to miss it if she called.

Bella slept soundly for the first hour or so that I was there, and I became completely absorbed in my drawing. On the mantle, I'd found a picture of Ang, Ben, and Bella right after they came home from the hospital, and I'd pulled it down, studying it as I sketched it. When the phone rang, I was fully expecting my sister, so Edward's name on the screen gave me a moment of pause.

A smile curved my lips as I picked it up, answering with a "Well, hey there, stranger."

I heard the indignation – and hurt, I thought – in his voice as he told me it hadn't been that long since he called. It was true; it had only been a few hours since we spoke this morning, but I couldn't agree more when he said it felt like it had been forever.

I dropped my pencil and ran my fingers through my hair, pulling lightly as the force of how much I missed him hit me squarely in the chest. Even though we'd spoken here and there, I didn't feel like we had been us since he left. I really hoped that we would come back when he did.

We spoke for a minute or two about when he was coming home, and I asked, "Do you need me to pick you up from the airport?" with my heart in my throat, hoping like hell he'd say yes. I couldn't tell him that I needed to see him right away – hell, I wasn't even sure I could make it until Monday. He paused for a moment.

"Nah, don't worry about it."

Those few words stung, and it was all I could do to say, "Oh, okay."

He jumped in quickly, explaining that he didn't want me to have to work myself to death to make up for the time off, and I blinked as I listened, unable to speak. Going in early was a small price to pay for seeing him the moment it became possible, but I didn't tell him that. I couldn't stand the thought of offering again and having him turn me down, so as soon as he finished explaining his reasoning, I changed the subject. "So are you having fun down there with Emmett and everybody?"

There was silence on the line other than the sound of his breathing before he finally said, "Yeah, I'm having a good time…" He kept going, telling me a little about what he'd done while he was there. He mentioned Tanya waking him up this morning and said that she'd dragged him out shopping. I lost the thread of what he was saying when I heard a grunt through the baby monitor.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and listened for a moment, though I didn't really need to as the next sound was clearer – Bella whimpering.

"Fuck," I mumbled quietly and stood up, tiptoeing down the hallway to her door. I opened it up just as she wailed, and I raised my voice as I stepped toward her, whispering, "Shh…" I realized I would need both hands to pick her up and asked Edward to hold on for a second.

I missed what he said as I put the phone to the side and scooped her up, bouncing her lightly in my arms. Part of my mind was focused on Edward, hoping like hell that he would stay on the line because I didn't think I'd be able to take him hanging up on me. The rest was trained entirely on trying to soothe Bella as I walked with her around the room, whispering to her softly.

She was fussing, twisting and kicking as her face turned red. I took her to the changing table and checked to see if she needed a clean diaper. Once I was sure she was just upset, I put her on my shoulder and paced the room, trying everything I could think of.

"You're just as stubborn as your mommy," I told her with a wry grin as I finally walked over to the dresser, where the CD player was placed. I ignored the fact that I was being just as stubborn in trying to calm her myself instead of having "help" from Edward.

As soon as I pressed play, the sound of Edward's piano faded in, and Bella grew minutely quieter. We started walking again, making the circuit of her small room as I cradled her in my arms and looked down at her. Her cries lessened as she began to still, and then she yawned, arching her back as she settled against my chest. I walked with her until her eyes closed before I carried her to her crib and laid her down.

Edward's soft voice was pouring through the speakers, "Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried. Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried." I stood motionless for a moment, listening to his plaintive words as something deep within me stirred.

I picked up the phone again and stepped outside, closing her door before I put the phone to my ear. My voice was quiet and subdued when I finally spoke again. "Sorry about that…"

I wanted to tell him all the things I was sorry for – that I couldn't tell him how I felt, that I didn't know how I felt, that I was constantly wondering if I could trust him…but I didn't. Luckily, he let it go, just asking me if I was babysitting. I walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water as I told him why I was watching Bella, and when he asked, "What was that music you played?" I couldn't resist teasing him.

"You telling me you don't recognize yourself, Princess?" I could hear his pride and embarrassment when he asked if I was playing his CD. When I told him about Angela's reaction to the CD, too, he laughed, and the sound released something in me. I settled back on the couch with the phone to my ear, and it was just like those early nights when we'd spent hours on the phone talking about anything and nothing at all as we watched the Sox.

It was a little bit of heaven.

For the first time in nearly a week, I was able to really push all my questions and worries away, and we were just Jasper and Edward. I asked him – with real interest this time – about his family in Tennessee, listening carefully as he told me about scouring the city with Emmett. From the way he talked about his cousin, I knew we'd get along, and I actually found myself looking forward to meeting him, just so I could give him a hard time.

He told me about shopping with Tanya, and I blushed as he mentioned picking up some things for our baths together. I shifted in my seat, pulling at the legs of my jeans to gain more room as my body let me know it liked the sound of that. I realized as I did so that it had been a week since I'd had any sort of action – I hadn't even been in the mood to take matters into my own hands, so to speak – and my desire to see Edward grew exponentially.

His voice lowered a bit as well, likely in response to the huskiness in mine, and I quickly changed the subject. It wasn't that I didn't like where that might be heading, but he was in a house surrounded by his family while I had an infant not twenty feet away whose parents might return at any time. I was instantly intrigued by the idea of phone sex with Edward…the man had a sexy voice to begin with, and I had intimate knowledge of how he might sound, but unfortunately, now was completely the wrong time.

Instead, I asked him if he bought anything else while he was out with Tanya, and he said, "No…oh!" His voice lowered when he continued, "Remind me to tell you something when I get back."

"Oookay…that's nice and cryptic," I said, frowning.

He laughed. "Everything's fine…promise. Just can't talk about it right now."

The more we talked, the more I missed him, and I rested my head on the arm of the couch as I stared at the ceiling and wondered if it was the same for him. Eventually, he asked me about the class tomorrow morning with Emily, and I glanced at the clock, annoyed and worried when I saw that it was getting late and I still hadn't heard from her.

When he told me that he missed me and wished he was going to be with us, my heart felt tighter, as if it were being squeezed by an iron band. I wished for that as well, more than just about anything at that moment. I told him I missed him, too, and I couldn't stop myself from muttering, "Maybe a little too much," aloud.

I couldn't figure out why I would say a fool thing like that where he could hear it, but at the same time, I didn't take it back or try to cover it up. It was the simple truth…and I was kind of curious as to how he would react, to be honest.

He didn't say anything, so I finally cleared my throat and told him I should probably go, since Ben and Angie would likely be home soon. He sounded as reluctant to go as I felt, which brightened my mood considerably. I teased him, telling him I would have Emily handle his pieces at the studio, and he growled.

"The only one I want to have handle my 'pieces' is you, Mr. Whitlock."

Fuck me.

I wondered if he had any idea just how desirable he was. If I'd had him there right then, there wasn't a hell of a lot I wouldn't have done to handle every piece of him. Our conversation ended soon after that, with each of us saying goodnight. As I hung up the phone, I felt an odd mixture of contentment and restlessness. It was as if talking to Edward had simultaneously satisfied me and left me ravenous for more.

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I stared at my phone for just a minute and debated calling Emily. It was late, but I knew she was probably out with her friends…or James. Before I had to decide, the phone rang again, and I answered immediately when I saw her name on the screen.

"Emily? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Spurs…" I could hear the confusion in her voice, making me frown. "Are you?"

"Of course I am. I just…" I trailed off, wondering if my uncertainty about Edward was feeding into my perceptions of Emily's love life at the moment. Not a goddamn chance. "You usually call before now. Are you sure everything's alright?"

Her sigh sounded very put out, but she humored me, telling me that she'd been studying and lost track of time. When I asked about James, she said, "He's working tonight, so I grabbed dinner with Ri. She went to some party afterward, but I have too much shit to do." Her voice was laced with fatigue, lending credibility to her claims of studying too much.

So why didn't I believe it?

I had never doubted Emily, mostly because I could always tell when she was lying. But there was something off with the whole situation, something that made my hackles rise and my mind race. I started to ask her about it, but I heard keys jangling in the lock and sighed. "Hey, Lee? Sorry to cut this short, but Ben and Ang just got home…do you want me to call you when I get to my place?"

She laughed. "Nah, I think I'm just going to head to bed. I'll see you in, like, ten hours. Don't worry so much, okay?"

Easier said than done. I reluctantly agreed and she said, "Give Ang and Ben hugs for me, okay?"

"Yeah, will do. Hey, Lee Lee?"

"Yeah, Spurs?"

"Love you."

"I love you, too, big brother." She sounded more like herself, a smile in her tone as she told me good night.

We hung up just as Angela walked into the living room with Ben following behind carrying a plastic sack with their leftover food. When I stood up, Ang came over and gave me a tight hug before tilting her head. She looked up at me and wrinkled her nose. "She woke up, huh?"

I frowned at her. "How did you know?"

She laughed softly and said, "I'd recognize that man singing anywhere…" Her grin broadened when Ben grumbled behind us, and I chuckled, hugging her once more.

We stood in the living room for a few minutes as they told me about the movie they'd seen as well as what Aro'd had to say. He had asked them about Edward and me, and Angie said she'd told him that she was sure we'd be back in to see him soon. The thought brought a smile to my face, and it combined with the long conversation I'd had with him to make me feel like maybe I would make it through the weekend after all - and that we'd still be…whatever we were…when he got back.

Before long, we said good night, and I hopped on my bike to make the short drive back to my building. I felt better than I had all week, more like myself, but as soon as I stepped into my darkened apartment alone, the loneliness descended again. Ever since I got my own place after living with Mike, Eric, and Ben, I had never been bothered by being alone. So why was it suddenly so hard?

I refused to sink back into that same depressed state, but I noticed two things: first, I was avoiding my bedroom, as I ducked in just to change into pajama pants and then settled on the couch; second, when Edward wasn't around, I tended to drink…a lot. I had a few beers as I stretched out and watched some mindless TV before – for the second night in a row – I fell asleep on my couch.

I woke to Emily's phone call the next morning, which was pretty typical. I felt drained, and all I wanted was to sleep for the next sixty or so hours until Edward made it back.

Pathetic.

I spent a few minutes cleaning up the pig sty that my apartment had become, and I was soon showered and on my bike, heading toward Emily's dorm. We couldn't talk during the ride, obviously, and we were both subdued as we walked into her favorite deli and placed our order. She yawned as she sipped her coffee, and I wondered where my exuberant sister had gone.

"Don't start, Spurs," she warned when I opened my mouth, and I frowned at her.

I let it go for a few minutes, watching as she ran her fingers through her hair. She asked me about babysitting, and a bit of her old smile came back as we talked about Bella. She absolutely loved kids – babies, especially – and she wanted to know when she would get to see her again.

By the time breakfast arrived, things were feeling pretty normal – or as normal as possible, considering Edward had become sort of a fixture on our dates as well. I berated myself for that, reminding myself that these dates were supposed to be about the two of us – there was a reason neither of us ever invited a guy along.

I wondered if maybe that was part of what was wrong with Emily lately. Had I been ignoring her?

I didn't like that thought, and I spent the rest of breakfast completely focused on her. I gave in to her wishes – for now – and steered clear of James, drawing her out instead on how school was going and what was happening with the rest of her friends. She smiled a lot more as the morning wore on, and the pottery class itself passed by in much the same way. Something felt a little off, but we, at least, were okay. It just seemed like each of us had something weighing us down…something that neither of us wanted to talk about.

We cut our bowls – I fought my blush as I trimmed Edward's piece – and threw a new one each. We were supposed to be glazing our original bowls, but Emily insisted on waiting for Edward so we could all do the new step together.

By the time we settled on a casual sushi place for lunch, Emily was chattering like always. She was smiling and happy and excited, babbling so quickly at times that I had trouble following. I should've left it at that and just enjoyed the afternoon with my sister.

But, of course, I didn't.

Right after our sushi was delivered, I cleared my throat and said, "So, Lee Lee…have you tried setting up another time for me to meet James?"

She frowned at me and shook her head. "No…you've both been busy, so I just figured…"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You figured it would just go away?"

She narrowed her eyes at me and said pointedly, "No. I just figured you were both busy. You're bound to meet sometime."

I didn't want to push her, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I went on the offensive, asking her some of the questions that had been plaguing me, and every time she defended him, I grew a little angrier. Finally, I said, "What gives, Emily? Why do you feel like you need to justify everything he does?"

The way she crossed her arms over her chest and squirmed in her seat, not meeting my eye, sent my alarm bells into overdrive. "Emily Claire Whitlock." I waited until she made eye contact at last, needing to see her initial reaction to my words. "Has that fucker ever hit you?"

Her eyes flew wide as she gaped at me incredulously. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and then she exploded. "Are you fucking kidding me, Jasper? What the hell kind of person do you think I am? Do you think I'm that stupid that I would stay with some asshole who beat me?"

Every word she said made me wince, sent me retreating back into a defensive hole where I felt my eyes hardening and my tone growing harsher. "Fine, I get it," I snarled, barely noticing the way she stopped at once and stared at me. "You're not stupid. Just drop it."

I picked up my chopsticks and shoved a slice of our caterpillar roll into my mouth, feeling bile rise in my throat. I refused to think about why her words bothered me, why they struck such a chord that I was torn between wanting to scream and smothering a sob. I couldn't completely avoid it, though, and broken memories – long repressed – resurface, each one making me cringe away.

"Jasper? Hey…Spurs?" I didn't look up until I felt her hand cover my own, stopping it in its tracks as I was in the process of eating another piece of sushi. I looked at her at last, and the concern in her eyes broke me, tearing apart a wound I thought long-since-healed. My chopsticks clattered to the tabletop, my appetite evaporating as a sick feeling spread through my gut.

I'm not sure how I made it through the rest of lunch, but somehow, I made my apologies, my excuses. The wariness never completely left her eyes, though I was able to put on a good enough show that she let me be. I drove her back to her dorm, where I sat on my bike, my hands gripping the handlebars while I stared ahead until she tugged on my arm. I turned to look at her, finding worry marring her features again.

"Fuck," I muttered quietly and took a deep breath, steeling myself before I stood up. I shoved away the specter of Paul that had been looming over my shoulder and held my arms open to her. She stepped into my embrace, hugging me fiercely as she buried her face in my chest.

"I'm sorry, Spurs," she whispered. I didn't ask what for – I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"I'm sorry, too, Lee Lee." I kissed the top of her head, holding her just as tightly as she held me. I wondered what secrets she might be hiding…and I prayed that they weren't as devastating for her as the ones I'd kept from the family.

With a sigh, I let her go finally and looked down at her. "Lee, you know I'm here, right? For anything."

Her eyes were as earnest as my voice when she nodded. "I know, Spurs…and you know I'm here, too. Right? No matter…well, no matter what."

I gave her a small smile and nodded, wishing that it were that simple. I'd hidden the truth from my family for so long that I didn't feel like I could just suddenly say, "Oh, hey, so like eight years ago…"

Especially not to my little sister. I snorted at the thought, shaking my head as I chased away the impossibility. I forced my grin a little wider as I reached out to tickle her, and she squirmed away with a "Hey!" before retaliating. I caught and held her, tickling her mercilessly until she kicked me in the shin, and I hopped away, cursing.

"S'what you get," she muttered, her eyes brighter as she smiled at me. We laughed together and then hugged once more before I climbed on my bike and watched her walk into her building, swinging her helmet by the strap.

With a heavy sigh, I started the motorcycle and raced through the streets back to my apartment. All afternoon, I kept myself busy. I cleaned the place from top to bottom, washing every scrap of clothing that needed it and dusting long-forgotten corners.

My mind was at war with itself, torn between two conflicting images that it kept trying to reconcile: Paul's vicious, condescending face and Edward's wide, caring eyes. I kept catching myself cataloguing their similarities, the situations and words with Edward that had reminded me eerily of Paul, and then I would be arguing the other side, examining the countless ways they were different.

It was maddening.

No matter what I did, I couldn't settle my mind. I was exhausted and disgusting, covered in clay and dust and sweat, but even a warm shower did nothing to calm my frantic thoughts. Unlike the rest of the week, it never entered my head to call Edward.

I was battling my own personal demons, their once-silent haunting shaken into focus like the knocking and howling of a poltergeist. I couldn't stand it. I had to get out, had to give myself some time to recover, to rebuild some of the barriers I'd put in place to keep the panic and disgust for myself locked away.

So I called Mike, only to find that he was out on a day-trip with Jessica that had turned into an impromptu weekend away.

Ben. He and Angela were at her parents' house, where they would be having dinner soon.

Eric didn't answer his cell. Not surprising, since his date with Demetri was tonight. I wouldn't have called him, but I was getting desperate, needing some sort of distraction.

Felix, Max, Randall…all busy or not answering. I stopped short of calling Emily, knowing that that would get me nowhere if I were trying not to think about all this shit.

In the end, I called a cab and headed out on my own. When we pulled up at the Cask 'n Flagon, I breathed a small sigh of relief. Here, at least, I would find alcohol and noise, two of the best remedies for a head too full of memories and torturous thoughts.

I pushed open the door and made my way through the crowd. It was still fairly early, but people were beginning to show up, their conversations creating a pleasant background buzz. I took a seat at the bar, my eyes turning automatically to one of the big screens as I caught the commentary for tomorrow's football games.

Ugh, fucking Patriots.

I shifted my eyes away, catching sight of the bartender as he walked over to me. I opened up a tab and ordered my first Sam Adams, telling him to keep them coming. He smiled and said, "You got it…" before stepping away to grab my beer.

As soon as the frosty glass was in my hand and the cold liquid hit my tongue, I relaxed minutely. Ironically, I felt more in control. This was my decision. I was out, on my own, without needing anyone's approval or permission – in fact, without anyone knowing.

And that suited me just fine.

I took another sip of my beer and licked my lips, my eyes wandering back to the TV. I wasn't really interested in the other people in the bar, other than as a general distraction from my own thoughts. Time passed without my awareness, and I was feeling a nice, soothing buzz when I heard a vaguely familiar voice call my name.

"Jasper?" The question came again, and this time I sought out the source. Glancing to my right, I saw a face I recognized, though it took me a moment to match it to its name.

Fucking beautiful eyes…

"Jason?" He nodded, and I smiled. "Hey…what are you doing here?"

He laughed and shrugged. "You're the one that recommended it, remember? Just thought I'd check it out…" He'd been standing with his elbow on the bar, and now he moved to take the stool next to me. I tossed back my beer, draining the last of it, and as soon as the bottle hit the bar, the bartender was back, whisking it away as he left another in front of me.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked Jason, who said he'd have the same.

We sat side by side for a while, idly talking about the sports news playing over the bar. As the night wore on, the questions became more personal, though nothing intimate at all. It was nice to have someone to talk to, something to take my mind off the questions that had been plaguing me all day.

He asked my last name, and I learned that his was Jenks; he was in his first year of law school and was a good bit younger than I was. When he mentioned that he was twenty-two, I chuckled, shaking my head as I took another pull from my beer. I couldn't help but make comparisons between this guy and Demetri, and I wondered how the hell Eric made that work. There was so much Jason hadn't seen yet, so many things he hadn't been through.

He turned the conversation to me, asking about the business I'd started with the guys, and I realized that I was talking way more than normal – babbling, really. I thought it was just to fill the silence, but it was more the way he just kept asking questions, drawing the words out of me.

I'd lost track of how many beers I'd had when Jason pushed away from the bar and headed for the restroom. I watched the scores and highlights scrolling across the bottom of the big screen for a moment before I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time.

Ugh, not even nine…

Way too early to go home, especially knowing that, as awake as I was, I'd sober up before I passed out, and that just wouldn't do.

No fucking calls.

The phone went back in my pocket, and my hands wrapped around my bottle once more. I tapped randomly on the glass, my fingertips tracing the edge of the label. In just those few moments alone, my anxiety began to creep back in. Emily and Edward returned to the forefront of my mind while the ghost of Paul made my shoulders tense and my skin crawl.

I shrugged my shoulders, tilting my head this way and that as if I were working out a kink in my neck. In truth, I was trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. I could tell it wasn't coming from the bar, but that didn't stop me from glancing around to check.

There was no one looking my way, of course.

I took a breath and puffed out my cheeks as I exhaled. I'd been surprised to see Jason tonight, but now I found myself wishing he'd come back. He wasn't as good a distraction as Mike would've been, but he helped, and I was thankful for that.

I stared at the screen as they showed highlights of the Patriots and Chargers before launching – again – into the predictions for Sunday's game. I rolled my eyes, grumbling under my breath about the goddamn Patriots.

"So what do you have against the Pats? I thought you were a Boston boy." Jason's smile was easy as he settled onto his barstool again. I relaxed almost at once, happy to not have to be alone with my thoughts.

"Hell, no," I said automatically and then realized that in my semi-drunk state, I'd apparently been ranting aloud. I cleared my throat and took a drink before I continued, "Texas, actually. I moved out here for college, too."

Fucking liar.

I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably, moving my feet onto the rod along the base of the bar just to have something to do.

"Ahh…" he said, smiling quietly. "That explains the accent."

I didn't hear my accent anymore – and Chuck gave me hell about becoming a Yankee every time I went home – but other people mentioned it from time to time. I nodded and told him a little about my family. "My sister moved out here last year, but the rest of them are still out there on the ranch."

His eyes widened as he took a sip of his beer, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "So, you're actually a cowboy?"

I laughed. "No, I'm a software engineer…well, mostly a salesman now. But yeah, I guess I was at one point. Or was meant to be, anyway."

He muttered a low oath, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, chuckling at the incredulous look on his face. He shook it off, asking who I cheered for instead, and we talked for a while about the Cowboys. He made a face, cursing under his breath. It turned out that he'd been a Falcons fan all his life and harbored an intense hatred for Dallas.

"Well, I guess football will just be one of those things we don't talk about…" he said with a wide grin. "Unless we want to fight, that is."

I frowned slightly, trying to make sense of his statement. Why the hell would we want to fight? I was beginning to really feel the alcohol, but that didn't slow me down. Before the bartender could bring me my next beer, Jason got up and walked over to him. He beckoned him forward, and the guy leaned over the bar so Jason could say something to him quietly – well, relatively speaking.

His expression was smug as he took his seat again, but when I narrowed my eyes at him, he just laughed. Soon, the bartender came by with two shot glasses full of something foamy, and I raised an eyebrow at the man sitting beside me.

"You'll love it," he said confidently. "Trust me."

I glanced at it skeptically and then shrugged, picking up my shot. Jason put his hand on my wrist and shook his head. "Nope. No hands."

"What the hell do you mean no hands?"

He grinned and leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the small glass before lifting it with his mouth and tossing his head back. I watched, my eyes widening, as he swallowed the drink down greedily and then lowered his head to drop the glass. He looked at me pointedly, wiping a drop of cream from the corner of his lips with the pad of his thumb.

"Fuck." I didn't mean to say it out loud, and I briefly hoped that he had missed my whisper, but the mischievous look in his eyes told me he hadn't. I couldn't think of one damn thing to say, so I followed his lead, downing my shot without using my hands. The bite of alcohol was barely there as I tasted sweet cream and coffee, a blissful combination that carried just a hint of heat. I felt a tiny bit of liquid roll over my lip and wiped it off with the heel of my hand.

I saw the way his eyes followed the movement – and the way they darkened as they lingered on my lips.

My senses were dull, and my hands felt disconnected from my body, moving a little further than I meant for them to. My eyelids were heavy, making my eyes drift closed of their own accord before I'd snap them open again. I felt a silly smile settle on my lips as I said, "That's pretty fucking good, actually. What was it?"

"A blow job." He wore a devilish grin as his eyes flickered over my face. I had a vague sense that he was far more sober than I was, and the way he looked at me helped to erase some of the feelings of doubt and self-loathing I'd been struggling with all day.

I didn't know what to say to him, though, so I focused on the name of the drink. "I thought that was for chicks?"

He laughed and leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I guess that all depends on who you ask. I've never had a blow job with a chick."

I made a noncommittal noise, considering his words. His flirting couldn't have been more obvious if he'd painted it on his forehead, but I wasn't sure how I felt about it. On one hand, I really wasn't into him – not in that way – and there were a million reasons why I should just tell him so…not the least of which was the man that I was still hoping like hell would call and come home and take me to his bed and kiss me and fuck me until I couldn't even remember my own name. On the other, I sensed that if I addressed the flirting and the question he was clearly asking, I would soon be alone. He would go home – or worse, move on from me to some other guy in the bar – and I would be stuck with no distractions, no help in escaping the worry that had been building all week.

And all I wanted to do was escape.

I felt him watching me and realized I was staring down at the bar, not even seeing the wood grain. I raised my head with a start, and he flashed a smile. His face was suddenly close to mine, his breath hot against my cheek as he whispered, "Want another blow job, Jasper?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He must've seen something in my face because he chuckled and lightened the mood, granting me a much-needed reprieve. He still ordered a second blow job for each of us, but he changed the subject, asking me about restaurants I thought he should check out.

I was completely unaware of how long we sat there talking. After the shots, he mixed our drinks up, ordering different things that he thought I'd like. My mind was in that happy, fuzzy place where I was only somewhat aware of what was happening around me. I swayed on my stool, and he caught me, his fingers wrapping around my biceps.

The night was filled with laughter – mostly his – and conversation – again, mostly of his direction. I sat there, basking in the glow of not having to think for a while, not having to focus on the very real problems and worries in my life. I was feeling pretty good when he said, "Come dance with me."

I frowned, unsure if I should. He reached out, taking my hand as he slipped off his stool. "Come on. I won't let you fall." He gave me a wry grin, and I rolled my eyes, snorting indignantly.

His implication that I was too drunk to stand up straight held my attention, causing my uncertainty to flitter away. I stood up, walking behind him as he led me to the dance floor. He still held my hand, our arms stretched between us, and I grumbled to myself as I watched his back.

Fucking show him I can do this shit. I'm not that drunk.

But I knew on some level that I was. I felt completely disconnected, the parts of my body a wonder to me as I tried in vain to figure out how they worked together. I was still staring down at my arms when suddenly his were around my waist. He guided my hands to his shoulders, and I linked my fingers behind his neck to keep my hands from slipping off again.

I felt a stirring of…something. I had no idea what. It was too distant, too fleeting, though it left me slightly uneasy.

His hands on my hips guided me, and soon my body was moving to the music. My eyes drifted closed as I focused on the beat, losing myself to the rhythm. I felt him moving closer to me, his warmth covering my torso as his hands slipped from my hips to press against my lower back. His splayed palms were liquid heat, searing my skin even through my shirt, and it was Edward's face that lingered behind my eyelids.

Longing filled me as I pulled the body I held closer, trying desperately to feel the passion that Edward always ignited in me. I'd felt so empty for days that just the echo of life was enough to excite me, making me feel hopeful again. A knee was between mine, hips pressing closer against my groin, and my hands gripped the collar of a shirt.

I sighed at the stubble abrading my cheek, at the panting breath bathing my neck. Warm lips teased my skin, moving along my jaw, and I could nearly hear Edward's moans, the words he so often whispered as he kissed and caressed me. I wanted so badly for it to be him that I let myself pretend for a moment - just a few seconds of fantasy, wish-fulfillment…whatever you wanted to call it.

A nip at my ear made my lips twitch, curving into a small smile as my hands drifted down, holding him close. His soft lips made their way back toward mine, where I felt a gentle pressure just at the corner, hesitant and questioning. I turned my head, capturing his lips with my own, and his strong hands tightened their hold on me, bringing me impossibly closer as his head tilted.

His lips parted mine, our kiss filled with chaste heat, and I gave a soft moan that was swallowed by the driving beat of the music that vibrated through my chest. We kissed for long moments, the gentle brushes becoming more forceful as we moved together. His hands slid up my back, one pressing between my shoulder blades as the other tangled in my hair, holding me to him. My fingers were dangerously low, my thumbs slipping into the waistband of his jeans.

I froze in confusion when his flaccid tongue brushed against mine, supple flesh where the bite of steel should have been.

Panic struck me, sending a sobering jolt through me that started in my fingertips and raced toward my sluggish mind. Something was not right.

Oh, God. Fuck!

Gradually, thoughts and memories filtered back through my consciousness, putting together a horrifying picture of what I knew I would see when I opened my eyes. I squeezed them shut, pressing my lips tightly together as I stood motionless. I could feel his questions in the tension in his shoulders and the way his hands had stilled against me.

I prayed for a miracle – that somehow I was wrong, that when I opened my eyes, I would see the darkened emerald that belonged only to Edward.

I wasn't so lucky.

The eyes that watched me were beautiful, but they were blue-gray and filled with confusion. "Jasper?"

I could hear the hurt in his voice, the wondering what he'd done wrong. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't even reassure him that it wasn't him – this one was all on me. All I could do was mumble, "I-I can't."

My brain shut down from the overload, unable to begin to process everything that was happening. I had only one focus – Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here.

I had no concept of what I'd done or how much damage I might have caused. I just knew that whatever it was, it was my fucking fault. All mine.

Operating on some sort of instinct bred through years of drinking, I managed to close my bar tab and retrieve my card. I kept expecting to hear Jason's voice – accusing, demanding to know what the hell I was doing – but it never came. I could only imagine what he must think of me, but it was the least of my worries.

As the cab drove me toward my apartment, I could put one name on every single one of the worries that was eating me up inside – Edward.

What the fuck did I do?

I was in my apartment without being aware of riding in the elevator or opening the door. I paced in my kitchen, my thoughts a jumbled mess with no direction. I growled in frustration, stopping suddenly as I gripped the back of a chair. I needed to think, needed to be able to figure out what it was, exactly, that had me so upset.

Coffee.

I went through the motions of grinding coffee beans and starting a pot. I was beginning to feel sick – physically sick, not just disgusted with myself. While I waited for the coffee to finish, I pulled a box of crackers from the cabinet and ate them slowly, fighting my gag reflex to swallow. I knew I would feel better with something on my stomach, and at the moment, I needed all the help I could get.

My stomach began to settle as I poured myself a cup of coffee – black, and as strong as I could make it – and sat down at the table with the steaming mug in my hands. I took a deep breath, holding it before I exhaled slowly.

Then I began arguing with myself. It was rambling and circular and completely unproductive, but several things became clear to me.

I was afraid. I was scared shitless to tell Edward, and I didn't really know why – but then again, I did know why. I would be hurt and jealous if he'd been out with another guy tonight – my stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at the mere thought. I didn't want Edward to feel that way, and it killed me because I knew he would.

Or would he? Did he really have to know? I hadn't meant for it to happen…and I sure as hell didn't expect it to happen again. Why should I tell him about something that meant nothing?

Because I would want to know. The thought of Edward kissing another man and then keeping it a secret burned me. A feeling of betrayal accompanied the thought – worse than what I'd already done – and I knew I had to tell him.

What is he going to say?

My cup was empty, and I stared down into it as if it were filled with tea leaves I could read to predict his response. What if he told me he never wanted to see me again?

He won't. He can't.

God, please, tell me he won't…

I was begging, pleading with some unnamed entity I wasn't sure I believed in that Edward would at least give me a chance. I was willing to work, willing to do whatever it took so long as it meant I could still be with him.

I got up to pour myself another cup, slowly forming my arguments. We weren't exclusive…I hadn't been exclusive with anyone since Paul. In fact, we'd never talked about what we were.

That's because you never had to. You assumed – just like he did – that he wasn't seeing anyone else.

I ignored the little voice. It was true, but the truth wouldn't help me here. I needed to make Edward see my side, make him understand that…that…

That what? That he went out of town and your tongue was in another man's mouth?

Oh, god…

I gave myself to my despair for a moment, wallowing in self-pity and fear and disgust. I tried to convince myself that it really wasn't a big deal. I kept clinging to that one fact – that we'd never said we weren't seeing other people – but even in my inebriated state, I saw that for the semantics argument that it was. The simple truth was that I had betrayed Edward's trust, and I deserved it if he left me.

I don't know how long I'd been sitting at my kitchen table, trying like hell to make sense of it all, when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. With a sinking feeling, I pulled it out – and felt like crying when I saw Edward's name on the screen. My first instinct was to answer it, but what could I say? I was resigned to telling him – he had a right to know – but I wanted to do it in person. My way.

It was just a kiss.

My thumb ran across the screen as if I could caress his face, and I carefully put the phone down. I couldn't tell him now…but I couldn't talk to him without telling him. I knew as soon as I heard his voice, I would be babbling, spilling it all to him without holding back.

I watched as the screen flashed, hoping – though I knew it was in vain – that he wouldn't think it was a big deal. It was just a kiss, after all. Maybe he would just shrug and grin at me and kiss me and take me to his room.

But, to be completely honest, I didn't want that. I wanted this to be a big deal to him. I wanted to be a big deal to him. I wanted him to care enough to get upset, even though I never wanted to hurt him.

The screen went dark for a moment before it flashed once more.

3 missed calls
1 new voice mail

Taking a shaky breath, I picked up the phone and checked the missed calls – all Edward, starting at 10:23. I hit the button to call my voice mail, my eyes squeezing shut as I listened.

"Hey, baby, it's me. I'm really sorry I missed you. I just wanted to call and say I…I'm thinking about you. Not too much longer now. Call me when you get this, okay? Doesn't matter what time. I-" His voice cut off abruptly, and I heard other voices in the background before he said, "I hope you have a good night. Miss you, Cuddles."

I had never felt lower than I did as I carefully hit the button to end the call and put the phone on the table. After all the worrying and suspecting and looking over my shoulder, I had been the one to cheat.

I sat in silence, my thoughts quieting as the night wore on. I wanted to say something to Edward to let him know I was thinking of him, too – god, was I thinking of him – but I couldn't trust myself to talk to him. By the time the urge to reach out somehow finally became too much, it was just after 3:30.

I picked up my phone, deciding to be as honest as I could without letting him know yet what was going on. My fingers hovered over the keys before I finally typed,

Sorry I missed your call. Miss you.

It was true – I was incredibly sorry I missed his call, especially since I had checked the timestamp and knew exactly what I'd been doing when he called the first time. The memory of Jason's lips on mine made my stomach turn, and I stood up, dropping my mug in the sink as I went to take a shower. I really wasn't sure I'd be able to sleep, but I couldn't sit around with another man's scent on me. I could smell him everywhere, feel the sting of his stubble, see the look in his eyes.

I stood beneath the scalding spray for a long time, hoping it would sear away my skin's memory of his touch. When the water finally ran cold, I stepped out and dried off, dressing in pajama pants and a t-shirt. I walked straight by my bed and into the living room, where I sat with my sketchbook in my lap.

I never opened it, never picked up a pencil, and I was watching the sunrise lighten the window through my blinds when I received an answer back from Edward.

I miss you, too. More than you know. Can I see you tomorrow?

I swallowed hard, staring at the words on my phone and hoping like hell that they would still be true tomorrow night – that he would still want to see me Tuesday morning. I couldn't think of a response as I sat there, remembering all the times I'd imagined his homecoming this week. In place of the happiness I should have felt, there was only anxiety and fear, and it was way too long before I could think of a response to send him.

In the end, I typed only one word…

Please.

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Chapter 16 ~ Chapter 18

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