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The show was over and Jacob made his way to the stage to give Renesmee her bouquet of flowers. He found her quickly and handed over his gift. He was flanked by Collin and Brady, who were there to see her as well.
Bella and Edward were making their way toward their daughter. Jacob scribbled down something quickly on his playbill and passed it into Bella’s hands. “Thought you might like that as a keepsake,” he said with a small smile. He hugged Renesmee one last time, nodded to Edward, and made his way to his hotel to check in.
Bella furrowed her brow as she watched Jacob walk away from her without even really saying ‘hi’ or ‘bye’, for that matter. She wondered idly why he had given her his playbill. She turned it over and over in her hands as she waited for Brady to stop talking to her daughter so she could tell her how proud she was of her and what an amazing job she had done. When Renesmee was finally free, Edward brought her into his arms. It was then that Bella realized that Jacob had written on the back of the playbill.
Meet me on the rooftop of the Holiday Inn at midnight. We need to talk, really talk. I’ll be waiting, it read.
Bella was shocked and she found herself looking around the room nervously. Once she connected her eyes with Edward’s, she again found herself grateful that he couldn’t read her mind.
She hugged Renesmee and praised her for her performance.
The Cullen family traveled to their hotel by cab in awkward silence. Renesmee was thoroughly confused as to why her parents were so tense tonight. Edward ran Jacob’s earlier thoughts through his mind, trying to decipher them to see if they meant what he thought they meant. Bella clutched the playbill in her hands and wondered how she would find a way to meet Jacob. He was right. It was time that they talked – really talked.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”
—–
Seth has imprinted on a young, wild, damaged girl who doesn’t have trust for anyone, especially an older guy who is a cop. He panics at the idea of imprinting on a girl who essentially jailbait, and worries that he won’t ever see her ‘that way’. Can he win over his imprint and finally be happy? Or is he just supposed to be her friend and protector? Will Regan let him into her heart after all?
“Are you drunk, Seth Clearwater?” I laughed, looking over at him.
He chuckled, shaking his head at me. “No, just happy.”
“Whys that?”
He shook his head. “No reason,” he said with a happy smirk. I gave him a weird look, and he shrugged.
“Then what’s that look on your face?” I teased.
He shrugged again, making a face at me. His bright smile and tan face looked smug and almost satisfied; like he was keeping a secret from me…but one that he would eventually tell. I laughed nervously, but it was a good feeling. I secretly loved being this close to him. His warm, inviting scent swirled around me, and I secretly hoped I smelled as good to him.
“Tell me,” I urged, shaking his shoulder with my arm. He chuckled again, the same smug look reappearing.
“I was…just thinking that I’m so glad you’re happy. You look….so happy today and just….full of….ah, I don’t know,” he stuttered, looking away.
“I am happy,” I said slowly, watching his features. I had never been this close to him before for such a long period of time, and it was so nice. I could see every freckle, every eyelash, every feature of his face. I wanted to be…closer.
He turned his face back towards mine, a slow smile appearing on his lips. “That’s all I’ve….ever wanted…for…um, you,” he admitted, stumbling over his words.
I caught myself staring at his lips as he spoke about my happiness. He wanted me to be happy. Another feeling of satisfaction burned through my veins as I sat on his lap, staring at his mouth. And then….I was drawn to it.
“Really?” I whispered, willing my eyes to look up into his. His warm, perfect, beautifully brown eyes.
“Really,” he said with a gulp. There was a sharp yet invitingly warm tug on my sternum then, as if it was being pulled like a moth to a flame. I could feel it, but it didn’t make me panic because it was pulling me towards the only thing in the world I wanted – him.
“Only one thing could make me happier.”
“What’s that?” he whispered, his voice rough and gravelly.
I swallowed nervously, giving into the tug. I was tired of fighting it.
So….I did the only thing I could do. I stopped trying.
—–
—–
Public date: March 9th, 2011
