Billy!" Charlie called as soon as he got out of the car. I turned toward the house, beckoning to Jacob as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting them loudly behind me.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't see you behind the wheel, Jake," he said disapprovingly.
"I just got my license, Charlie!" Jacob said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light.
"Oh, did you?" Charlie laughed.
"About time. I had to get around somehow." I recognized Billy's resonant voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child.
I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on the lights before I hung up my jacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Jacob helped Billy out of the car and into wheelchair.
I backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain.
"This is a surprise," Charlie was saying.
"It's been too long," Billy answered. "I hope it's not a bad time." His dark eyes flashed up to me again, their expression unreadable.
"No, it's great. I hope you can stay for the game."
Jacob grinned. "I think that's the plan—our TV broke yesterday."
Billy made a face at his son. "And, of course, Jacob was anxious to see Beau again," he added. Jacob scowled and ducked his head while I fought back a smile. I couldn't help but feel flattered by it.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, gesturing toward the kitchen. Despite wanting to see Jacob, I was eager to escape Billy's searching gaze.
"Naw, we ate just before we came," Jacob answered.
"How about you, Charlie?" I called over my shoulder as I turned and fled around the corner.
"Sure," he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I could hear Billy's chair follow.
The grilled cheese sandwiches were in the frying pan and I was about to slice up a tomato when I sensed someone behind me.
"So, how are things?" Jacob asked.
"Pretty good." I smiled. His warmth and charm were hard to resist.
"It's good to see you again, Beau." He pulled me into a hug.
"It's good to see you too, Jake." I laughed, hugging him back. "So how are you? Did you finish your car?" I asked, looking up at his smiling face.
"No." He frowned. "I still need parts. We borrowed that one." He pointed his thumb in the direction of the front yard.
"Sorry. I haven't seen any… what was it you were looking for?"
"Master cylinder." He grinned. "Is something wrong with the truck?"
"No." I said, turning back to the sandwiches.
"Oh. I just wondered because you weren't driving it."
I stared down at the pan, pulling up the edge of a sandwich to check the bottom side. "I got a ride with a friend."
"Nice ride." Jacob's voice was admiring. "I didn't recognize the driver, though. I thought I knew most of the kids around here."
I nodded noncommittally, keeping my eyes down as I flipped sandwiches.
"My dad seemed to know him from somewhere."
"Jake, could you hand me some plates? They're in the cupboard over the sink."
"Sure."
He got the plates in silence. I hoped he would let it drop now.
"So who was it?" he asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me.
I sighed in defeat. "Edward Cullen."
To my surprise, he laughed. I glanced up at him. He looked a little embarrassed.
"Guess that explains it, then," he said. "I wondered why my dad was acting so strange."
"That's right." I tried to look innocent. "He doesn't like the Cullens."
"Superstitious old man," Jacob muttered under his breath.
"You don't think he'd say anything to Charlie?" I couldn't help asking, the words coming out in a low rush.
Jacob stared at me for a moment, and I couldn't read the expression in his dark eyes. "I doubt it," he finally answered. "I think Charlie chewed him out pretty good last time. They haven't spoken much since—tonight is sort of reunion, I think. I don't think he'd bring it up again."
"Oh," I said, feeling relieved.
We stood in silence for a moment as I plated the sandwiches.
"So," Jacob finally said, "could I convince you to hang out and watch the game?" He kicked his feet. "If you want to, I mean. If you have stuff to do…"
I couldn't help but smile. "I'd love to, Jake."
He grinned back at me.
I carried the food out to Charlie, trying to keep up with the game, but mostly just chatting with Jacob. Every once in a while, I would eavesdrop, watching for any sign that Billy was about to rat me out, trying to think of ways to stop him if he began.
Despite enjoying Jacob's company, it was a long night. I had a lot of homework that was going undone, but I was afraid to leave Billy alone with Charlie. Eventually, the game ended.
"Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?" Jacob asked as he pushed his father over the lip of the threshold.
"I'm not sure," I shrugged, "but you know you can always come visit me here." I smiled warmly.
Jacob grinned widely.
"That was fun, Charlie," Billy said.
"Come up for the next game," Charlie encouraged.
"Sure, sure," Billy said. "We'll be here. Have a good night." His eyes shifted to mine, and his smile disappeared. "You take care, Beau," he added seriously.
"Thanks," I muttered, looking away. Billy's gaze felt heavy.
I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway.
"Wait, Beau," he said.
I stiffened. Had Billy gotten something in while I wasn't paying attention?
But Charlie was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit.
"I didn't get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?"
"Oh, good." I smiled, thinking of what details were safe to share. "My badminton team won all four games."
"Wow, I didn't know you could play badminton."
"Well, actually I can't, but my partner is really good," I admitted.
"Who is it?" he asked with token interest.
"Mike Newton," I answered.
"Oh yeah—you said you were friends with the Newton kid." He perked up. "Nice family." He mused for a minute. "Was he one of the boys who asked you?"
"Dad," I sighed. "He's kind of dating my friend Jessica. Besides, you know I can't dance."
"Oh yeah," he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically. "Sorry, Beau."
"Don't be sorry, Dad." I smiled a little, "I appreciate you asking, though."
"Well," Charlie always got awkward during sentimental moments, "I guess it's good you'll be gone Saturday… I've made plans to go fishing with the guys from the station. The weather's supposed to be real warm. But if you wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you, I'd stay home. I know I leave you here alone too much."
"Dad, you're doing a great job." I smiled. "I've never minded being alone—I'm too much like you." I laughed, and he smiled his crinkly-eyed smile.
I slept better that night, too tired to dream again. When I woke to the pearl gray morning, my mood was blissful. I had enjoyed my evening with Jacob, and the tenseness Billy had brought with him seemed harmless now; I decided to forget it completely. I caught myself humming while I was mussing with my hair, and later again as I walked down the stairs. Charlie noticed.
"You're cheerful this morning," he commented over breakfast.
I shrugged. "It's Friday."
I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Charlie left. I had my bag ready, shoes on, teeth brushed, but even though I rushed to the door as soon as I was sure Charlie would be out of sight, Edward was faster. He was waiting in his shiny car, windows down, engine off.
I climbed in the passenger side quickly, eager to see his face. He grinned his crooked smile at me, making my heart beat faster. I couldn't imagine anyone more handsome. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.
"How did you sleep?" he asked. I wondered if he had any idea how appealing his voice was. I was sure he did.
"Fine, thanks. How was your night?"
"Pleasant." His smile was amused; I felt like I was missing an inside joke.
"Can I ask what you did?" I asked.
"No." He grinned. "Today is still mine."
He wanted to know about people today: more about Renée, her hobbies, what we'd done in our free time together. And then the one grandfather I'd known, my few school friends—embarrassing me when he asked about boys I'd dated. I was relieved that I'd never really dated anyone, so that particular conversation couldn't last long. He seemed as surprised as Jessica and Angela by my lack of romantic history.
"So you never met anyone you wanted?" he asked in a serious tone that made me wonder what he was thinking about.
"Well, that's really a different question, isn't it?" I joked. He didn't look amused, so I sighed and decided to be honest. "Not in Phoenix."
His lips pressed together into a hard line.
We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the blur that was rapidly becoming routine. I took advantage of his brief pause to take a bite of my bagel.
"I should have let you drive yourself today," he announced, apropos of nothing, while I chewed.
"Why?"
"I'm leaving with Alice after lunch." He said softly, looking guilty.
"Oh." I blinked, a bit disappointed. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."
He frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home just because I was selfish today."
"How were you selfish?" I questioned.
"I knew I was leaving after lunch, and I still wanted to spend as much time with you this morning. I should have let you drive yourself." He mused, "But I'm a horrifically selfish creature and I enjoy your presence too much." He grinned down at me.
I blushed, "It's really okay, I don't mind walking."
"I already told you, I'm not going to make you walk. We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."
"I don't have my key with me," I sighed.
He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unless you're afraid someone might steal it." He laughed at the thought.
"Hey, respect the truck." I pursed me lips. I was pretty sure my key was in the picket of a pair of jeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in the laundry room. Even if he broke into my house, or whatever he was planning, he'd never find it. He seemed to sense my doubt and took it as a challenge. He smirked, overconfident.
"So where are you going?" I asked casually.
"Hunting," he answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." His face grew morose… and pleading. "You can always cancel, you know."
I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to be convinced to leave him alone. I was too stubborn to run away in the face of fear. The danger was real and I was always aware of it, but again, I chose to trust Edward. Not because of what he was, but despite it.
"Nope," I said softly, glancing back his face. "I can't."
"Perhaps you're right," he murmured bleakly. His eyes seemed to darken in color as I watched.
I changed the subject to keep him from brooding. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, excitement evident in my voice.
"That depends… It's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" he offered.
"No," I answered too fast. I sighed. "Honestly, I'd like as much time with you outside of school as I can get."
He restrained a smile. "The same time as usual, then," he decided. "Will Charlie be there?"
"No, he's fishing tomorrow." I was pleased at how conveniently things had worked out.
His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think?"
"I have no idea," I answered coolly. "He knows I've been meaning to do the laundry. Maybe he'll think I fell in the washer."
He scowled at me and I teased him by scowling back.
"What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I grew tired of scowling.
"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." He seemed bemused by my casual reference to his secret realities.
"Why are you going with Alice?" I wondered.
"Alice is the most… supportive." He frowned as he spoke.
"And the others?" I asked nervously. "What are they?"
His brow puckered for a brief moment. "Incredulous, for the most part."
I peeked quickly behind me at his family. They sat staring off in different directions, exactly the same as the first time I'd seen them. Only now they were four; their beautiful, bronze-haired brother sat across from me, his golden eyes troubled.
"They don't like me," I guessed.
"That's not it," he disagreed, but his eyes were too innocent. "They don't understand why I can't leave you alone."
I sighed. "Neither do I, for that matter."
Edward shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling before he met my gaze again. "I told you—you don't see yourself clearly at all. You're not like anyone I've ever known. You fascinate me."
I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he was teasing me.
He smiled as he deciphered my expression. "Having the advantages I do," he murmured, touching his forehead discreetly, "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you… You never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."
I looked away, my eyes wandering back to his family, feeling embarrassed. I couldn't help feel a little disappointed, too, but I wasn't sure why.
"That part is easy enough to explain," he continued. I felt his eyes on my face but I couldn't look at him yet, afraid he might read the chagrin in my eyes. "But there's more… and it's not so easy to put into words—"
I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Royal, his blond and breathtaking brother, turned to look at me. No, not to look—to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but his gaze held me until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his breath. It was almost a hiss.
Royal turned his head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Edward—and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes.
His face was tight as he explained. "I'm sorry about that. He's just worried. You see… it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly…" he looked down.
"If?"
"If this ends… badly." He dropped his head into his hands, as he had that night in Port Angeles. His anguish was plain; I wanted to comfort him, but I didn't know how to begin. My hand reached toward him involuntarily; quickly, though, I dropped it to the table, fearing that my touch might only make things worse. I realized how conflicted I felt because his words frightened me, but I still felt an ache for his pain.
And I felt frustration—frustration that Royal had interrupted whatever he was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. He still had his head in his hands.
I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?"
"Yes." He raised his face; it was serious for a moment, and then his mood shifted and he smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don't think I could any more."
Something about his tone made me wonder if he meant the movie, or that delightfully agonizing electricity that charged the room when the lights were off.
I started from my thoughts, suddenly. Alice—her short, inky hair in perfectly styled finger waves complimenting her delicate, elfin face—was suddenly behind his shoulder. Her slight frame was willowy, graceful even in absolute stillness.
He greeted her without looking away from me. "Alice."
"Edward," she answered, her high soprano voice was almost as beautiful as his.
"Alice, Beau—Beau, Alice," he introduced us, gesturing casually with his hand, a wry smile on his face.
"Hello, Beau." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you."
Edward flashed a dark look at her.
"Hi, Alice," I smiled shyly.
"Are you ready?" she asked him.
His voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."
She left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuously beautiful.
"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked, turning back to him.
"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." He grinned.
"Have fun, then." I tried to sound wholehearted, but my disappointment in our shortened day was still evident.
"I'll try." He still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."
"Safe in Forks—what a challenge."
"For you it is a challenge." His jaw hardened. "Promise."
"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. His worry was a little much. "I'll do the laundry tonight—that ought to be fraught with peril."
"Don't fall in," He mocked.
"I'll do my best, but I make no guarantees."
He stood then, and I rose, too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.
"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" he mused.
I nodded glumly.
"I'll be there in the morning," he promised, smiling his crooked smile. He reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing along my cheekbone. Then he turned and walked away. I stared at him until he was gone.
I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Mike and others would assume I was with Edward and I didn't need them to be gossiping. Besides, Edward was concerned about the time we spent together publicly…if things went wrong. I tried not to put too much thought into that last thought, I concentrated instead on making things easier for him. Perhaps the rest of his family would warm up to me, I mused.
I intuitively knew—and sensed he did, too—that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the edge of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending upon my decision, or his instincts. My decision was mostly made; I chose Edward. I chose to embrace this danger and fear and not let it control me. I could leave anytime I wanted to, but I didn't want to leave him.
I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in Biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I'd canceled my trip, worried about my truck.
"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, suddenly sulky.
"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."
"What are you doing, then?" He asked, sounded a bit accusatory.
My knee-jerk reaction was to tell him butt out, but I didn't want to be mean. I decided to just stick to my laundry story.
"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."
"Is Cullen helping you study?"
"Edward," I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. He's gone away somewhere this weekend." The lies came more naturally than they ought to, and I felt guilty.
"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway—that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.
"I'm not going to the dance, Mike." I repeated, "Thank you, though."
"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."
When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I didn't really want to walk home, but I could see how would have retrieved my truck. Then again, I was starting to belief that nothing was impossible for him. The latter instinct proved correct—my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.
There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant script.
Be safe.
The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself.
When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt unlocked, just as I'd left it this morning. Inside, I went straight to the laundry room. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd hung my key up after all, I thought, shaking my head.
Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica to wish her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day with Edward, I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary—no doubt dismayed that she wouldn't get to hear all about it Sunday morning. We chatted a bit about the dance before I said goodbye.
Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna—it was hard to tell with Charlie.
"You know, Dad…," I began, breaking into his reverie.
"What's that, Beau?"
"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me."
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?"
"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do… homework, laundry… I need to go to the library and maybe the grocery store. I'll probably be in and out all day… you go and have fun."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish—we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."
"You're sure easy to live with, Beau." He smiled.
"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing. The sound of my laughter was off, but he didn't seem to notice. I felt so guilty for lying to him that I almost took Edward's advice and told him where I would be. Almost.
After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly painful, and that deep-rooted fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd already made a choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. Besides, what was my other choice—to cut him out of my life? I cared so much about him that the very thought seemed intolerable. The choices were made, and I wanted to see this through.
But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much… if it ended badly. It probably would—and I wouldn't be the only one to get hurt.
I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too anxious to sleep and tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else. I decided to take some cold medicine—the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. While I waited for the drugs to kick in I fussed over what I would wear tomorrow.
With everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs until I found a collection of Chopin's nocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing individual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold pills took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.
I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to the drugs. Though I was well rested I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony later of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting.
I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.
I practically flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple deadbolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there he was. All the anxiety dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief—yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.
He wasn't smiling at first—his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as he looked me over, and he laughed.
"Good morning," he chuckled.
"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.
"We match." He laughed again. I realized he had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath, and jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret—why did he have to look like a runway model when I couldn't?
I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.
"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching over to unlock his door.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Put your seat belt on—I'm nervous already."
I gave him a dirty look as I complied.
"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.
"Take the one-oh-one north," he said.
It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.
"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"
"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather—have some respect," I retorted.
We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.
"Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently.
"Now we drive until the pavement ends."
I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road and proving him right to look over and be sure.
"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.
"A trail."
"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes.
"Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much.
"No." I tried to sound as confident as possible. But if he thought my truck was slow…
"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."
"Oh, only five miles." I barely managed to keep my voice cracking in panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. I had been doing so well at making sure I didn't give Edward anything to tease me. This was going to be humiliating.
We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.
"What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.
I lied, "just wondering where we're going."
"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at the thinning clouds after he spoke.
"Charlie said it would be warm today."
"And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?" he asked.
"Nope."
"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" He seemed cheered by the idea.
"No, I told her you canceled on me—which is true."
"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now.
"That depends… I assume you told Alice?"
"That's very helpful, Beau," he snapped.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." I said, severely.
"Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" he demanded.
"You said it might cause trouble for you… us being together publicly," I reminded him.
"So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me—if you don't come home?" His voice was still angry, and bitingly sarcastic.
"I'm worried about your family, too. If this ends badly it hurts everyone. Your family, my family, my friends."
He muttered something under his breath, speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand.
"But I'm choosing to trust you, Edward." I said finally.
We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of infuriated disapproval rolling off of him, and I didn't feel like dealing with it.
And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. I parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, I was annoyed by his angry mood marring what was supposed to be a big day for us, so I didn't look at him. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day I'd arrived, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and knotted it around my waist, glad I had worn the light, button-up shirt—especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me.
I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his sweater, too. He was facing away from me, into the unbroken forest behind my truck.
"This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes still annoyed. He started into the dark forest.
"The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to catch up to him.
"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."
"No trail?" I asked desperately.
"I won't let you get lost." He turned then, with an amused smile, and I felt my breath catch in my chest. The sleeves of his white shirt were short, and rolled all the way up to his shoulders, and he wore it completely unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest and down to his stomach, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, and I felt butterflies in my stomach as I gaped at him. There was no way this godlike creature could be here with me.
He stared at me, bewildered by my expression.
"Do you want to go home?" he said quietly, with pain saturating his voice.
"No." I walked forward till I was close beside him, anxious not to waste another second of whatever time I had with him today.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient."
"I can be patient—if I make a great effort." He smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift the mood. "I'm sorry for my behavior in the truck." He said softly.
I smiled back, but my smile was wrought with anxiety. He scrutinized my face.
"I'll take you home," he promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, or restricted to an immediate departure. I knew he thought it was just fear that upset me, and I was grateful again that I was the only person whose mind he couldn't hear. The sight of his bare torso was driving him crazy, filling me with butterflies and anxiety. I didn't want him to think I was objectifying him, but I had never seen someone who looked like that in person—just in magazines.
"If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better start leading the way," I sighed, hoping the hike would distract me. He frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone and expression.
He gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.
It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and he held the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for me. When his straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he would help me, lifting me by the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. His cold touch on my skin never failed to make my pulse quicken, especially with his open shirt, I was a mess. I caught a look on his face that made me sure he could somehow hear my heart.
I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, his beauty sent my heart pounding and the butterflies stirring.
For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally he would ask a random question that he hadn't gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. He asked about my birthdays, my grade school teachers, my childhood pets—and I had to admit that after killing three fish in a row, I'd given up on the whole idea. He laughed at that, louder than I was used to—bell-like echoes bouncing back to us from the empty woods.
The hike took me most of the morning, but he never showed any sign of impatience. The forest spread out around us in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I began to feel like we would never find our way out again. He was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the green maze, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.
After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as he'd foretold. For the first time since we'd entered the woods, I felt a thrill of excitement—which quickly turned to impatience.
"Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl.
"Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"
I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"
He smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for your eyes."
"Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. His smirk grew more pronounced.
But then, after another hundred yards, I could definitely see a light in the trees ahead, a glow that was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with every step. He let me lead now, following noiselessly.
I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers—violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, wanting to share this with him, but he wasn't behind me where I thought he'd be. I spun around, searching for him with sudden alarm.
Finally I spotted him, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind—the enigma of Edward and the sun, which he'd promised to illustrate for me today.
I took a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled encouragingly and beckoned to him with my hand, taking another step back to him. He held up a hand in warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.
Edward slowly removed his shirt and let it drop to the forest floor. He seemed to take a deep breath, and then he stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun.