“Let go!” I insisted. He ignored me. I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk until we reached the Volvo. Then he finally freed me – I stumbled against the passenger door.“You are so pushy!” I grumbled“It’s open,” was all he responded. He got in the driver’s side. “I am perfectly capable of driving myself home!” I stood by the car, fuming. It was raining harder now, and I’d never put my hood up, so my hair was dripping down my back.He lowered the automatic window and leaned toward me across the seat. “Get in, Bella.”I didn’t answer. I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching the truck before he could catch me. I had to admit it, they weren’t good.“I’ll just drag you back,” he threatened, guessing my plan.”

“Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," he informed me. I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacob." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my head.Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped a long arm around my waist and and pulled me to my feet.”

“He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape."Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes, "what exactly are you worrying about?""Well, um, hitting a tree -" I gulped "- and dying. And then getting sick."He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat."Are you still worried now?" he murmured against my skin."Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. His cold breath tickled my skin."And now?" His lips whispered against my jaw."Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I would hit a tree, do you?""No, but I might." There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an easy victory.He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth."Would I let a tree hurt you?" His lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip."No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brillant defense, but I couldn't quite call it back."You see," he said, his lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be afraid of, is there?""No," I sighed, giving up.Then he took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me in earnest, his unyielding lips moving against mine.There was really no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to twine tightly around his neck, and I was suddenly welded to his stone figure. I sighed, and his lips parted.”

“He shifted his weight, throwing his good leg off the bed as if he were going to try to stand.“What are you doing?” I demanded through the tears. “Lie down, you idiot, you’ll hurt yourself!” I jumped to my feet and pushed his good shoulder down with two hands. He surrendered, leaning back with a gasp of pain, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down on the bed, against his good side. I curled up there, trying to stifle the silly sobs against his hot skin.”

“When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case--compared with him, at least."You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face."And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.His golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale.”

“Ian didn't come. He just sat here with you--he said he didn't care what you looked like. He wouldn't let anyone else put a finger on your tank at all, not even me or Mel. But Doc let me watch this time. It was way cool, Wanda. I don't know why you wouldn't let me watch before. They wouldn't let me help, though. Ian wouldn't let anyone touch you but him.' Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear. 'I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.”

“I looked around me to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw him laughing.”