“Bella, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk," he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest."Drunk?" I objected."You're intoxicated by my very presence." He was grinning that playful smirk again.”

“Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend.""I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be.""Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at his face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought."It would be more . . . prudent for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.”

“Jacob caught my arm with a shivering hand. "Please, Bella. I'm begging."His dark eyes were glistening with tears. A lump filled my throat."Jake, I have to―""You don't, though. You really don't. You could stay here with me. You could stay alive. For Charlie. For me."The engine of Carlisle's Mercedes purred; the rhythm of the thrumming spiked when Alice revved it impatiently.I shook my head, tears spattering from my eyes with the sharp motion. I pulled my arm free, and he didn't fight me."Don't die Bella," he choked out. "Don't go. Don't."What if I never saw him again?The thought pushed me past the silent tears; a sob broke out from my chest. I threw my arms around his waist and hugged for one too-short moment, burying my tear-wet face against his chest. He put his big hand on the back of my hair, as if to hold me here."Bye, Jake." I pulled his hand from my hair, and kissed his palm. I couldn't bear to look at his face. "Sorry," I whispered.”

“You're intoxicated by my very presence.”

“He took one long stride and caught me in another vice-tight bear hug."You really, honestly don't mind that I morph into a giant dog?" he asked, his voice joyful in my ear."No," I gasped. "Can't―breathe―Jake!"He let me go, but took both my hands. "I'm not a killer, Bella."I studied his face, and it was clear that this was the truth. Relief pulsed through me."Really?" I asked."Really," he promised solemnly.I threw my arms around him. It reminded me of that first day with the motorcycles―he was bigger, tough, and I felt even more like a child now.Like that other time, he stroked my hair."Sorry I called you a hypocrite," he apologized."Sorry I called you a murderer."He laughed.”

“But... when I left you, Bella, I left you bleeding. Jacob was the one to stitch you back up again. That was bound to leave it's mark - on both of you. I'm not sure those kinds of stitches dissolve on their own. I can't blame either of you for something I made necessary. I may gain forgiveness, but that doesn't let me escape the consequences.”

“That I wasn't mad at you. Can't you see that Bella?" He was suddenly intense, all trace of teasing gone. "Don't you understand?""See what?" I demanded, confused by his sudden mood swing as much as his words."I'm never angry with you - how could it be? Brave, trusting . . . warm as you are.""Then why?" I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away from me, that I'd always interpreted as well-justified frustration - frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions . . .He put his hands carefully on both side of my face. "I infuriate myself," he said gently. "The way I can't seem to keep from putting you in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to-"I placed my hand over his mouth. "Don't."He took my hand, moving it from his lips, but holding it to his face."I love you," he said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."It was the first time he'd said he loved me - in so many words. He might not realize it, but I certainly did.”