- Mark Twain
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
An: *Ahem* Buff82, you rock. That is all.
Chapter 10: Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin-Eater
Standing at the stove inside the small kitchen of Jacob's house, I let my mind wander as I cooked; or rather—tried to cook. The pot in front of me began to bubble over, the searing water splashing with a loud hiss against the stove top, pulling me from my worrying.
My mind would not allow me to concentrate on even the simple task of boiling noodles. It was too busy torturing me, breaking down the conversation I had with Jacob - right down to the smallest detail. I was beginning to wonder if I should have said anything to him at all.
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I gnawed mindlessly as I stirred the pasta. Jake had looked more than a little shocked at the declaration of my thoughts, and he had immediately brushed it off, telling me there was no way. That if anyone could know that for sure, it was him.
Despite his confident words, however, I hadn't missed the look in his eyes as he spoke. He was worried, and that was all it took for his words to be lost on me, his non-verbal reaction that much more prominent.
I remembered pulling into the driveway of Jake and Billy's house, still in a daze from my time spent with Alice. The words, he's cheating on you, playing over and over again in my mind - sounding foreign and surreal. Charlie's car was missing, so I assumed he had yet to arrive.
Jake met me at the door and immediately sensed that something was wrong. I was afraid to voice my fears aloud, afraid that they'd sound insecure and stupid outside the realm of my mind. And although Alice had tried to convince me it wasn't possible, I took little solace in her reassurance; seeing as she couldn't see Quil in her visions and would be unable to confirm it as fact.
"What's wrong?" Jake questioned as soon as I was through the door. I shook my head and let my purse slip from my shoulder, placing it on the small table just inside the house. "Don't give me that Bella. I know something's bothering you."
I looked up at him, still worrying my lip with my teeth, as I debated internally. His eyes plead with me to open up, to share with him. "I think Quil might be cheating on me," I blurted, quickly looking away in shame.
When a few minutes of silence passed, I glanced back up. I took in Jake's stunned expression before it shifted, his lips pressing together firmly. "Not possible."
I huffed in annoyance, suddenly defensive at his easy dismissal of my newly exposed fears, "Well, it's the only explanation I can come up with for the way he's been acting." With my arms crossed over my chest, I glared at him, daring him to simply brush off my concerns once again.
He lifted his hands, palms up, quickly speaking before I could interrupt. "I'm just saying that if anyone would know, it'd be me. No secrets, remember?" I nodded, but it was then, looking into his eyes, that I saw it—that glimmer of doubt.
So, when he stormed out of the house not long after I entered the kitchen, muttering something about having a pack meeting, my concerns tripled. The screen ricocheted off the wall with the force of his slam, and I watched from the window above the sink as he ran in the direction that I knew to be Sam's house.
Charlie had arrived as I was removing the semi-burnt noodles from the stove, his expression stern. I wasn't sure what had him so worked up, but after scanning the room and only finding me he seemed to visibly relax.
"Hey Bells, see you got my message."
I smiled halfheartedly, my stress level still far too high to pull off anything more than that. Though I did notice he must've stopped by the house to change from his work uniform before coming over. "Yeah, I was out with Alice today." His expression perked up at the mention of Alice, Charlie was still a huge fan of my once best friend.
"Oh?" His eyebrows raised in question. "You should invite her over sometime."
I nodded, dumping the pot over into the strainer, not bothering to turn and look at him. "Sure, sure." The shuffling sound of his shoes could be heard as he left to go into the living room. No doubt to gossip with Billy like the little old ladies they were. The thought brought a glimmer of a smile to my face, but it quickly faded.
It wasn't until I was adding the sauce onto the spaghetti noodles that I heard the door open again, somewhat forcefully, and two sets of feet could be heard on the wooden floor. There were only two people that it could possibly be, and my heart began to pound in anticipation. I listened as the first person stopped by the living room, but the other person headed my direction; as soon as he entered the room I could feel him. The tingling sensation I got when he was close overtook my body, and I waited for him to come closer.
He slipped his hands around my waist, resting them on my hips, and placed a light kiss on the side of my neck. "I missed you today, baby," he whispered in my ear, and my worries all but dissipated. His presence soothed me, making it seem as if all my previous fears were unfounded and absurd.
A contented sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back into his body. "I missed you too."
Our moment was cut short when someone cleared their throat behind us. Quil released me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Jacob walking over towards the fridge. I scowled at him, but he merely smirked in response, reaching in to grab the carton of orange juice.
"Do you want something to drink, Bella?" Quil asked, stepping away from me. I nodded absentmindedly as I flipped off the burners and removed the garlic bread from the oven, setting them on top of the burners to let it cool.
Mere moments after Quil left my side, Jake appeared. I knew Quil would be able to hear me if I questioned Jake about our earlier conversation, so I casually quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping he'd understand what I was asking.
I saw the recognition in his eyes, the understanding of what I wasn't to know, and he quickly shook his head. The scowl his face made me question whether he'd found out the truth or if he was telling me I was wrong, but I prayed for the latter of the two.
Quil set our drinks on the table and helped me carry the food over while I sent Jake to let our fathers know that dinner was ready. Having the five of us sitting at one small table was a tight fit, but we were practically family, never ones to complain about a few bumped elbows.
The minute Billy and my Dad stepped into the kitchen, however, I could feel the atmosphere shift. Tension settled over the room, making me shift uncomfortably. I eyed Charlie, who was watching Quil with a stern expression, and my brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what Quil had done to upset him.
I sat down, hoping it would prompt everyone else to do the same, since no one else had made a move towards the table. They seemed to snap out of whatever it was keeping them in their spots and quickly joined me. It was only once I began serving everyone that I realized there were three men not-so-subtly glaring at my boyfriend.
I slammed down my fork, and pointed my finger at each of them. "Alright, what the hell is going on here?" I demanded, arching an eyebrow.
"Language," Charlie chastised, but I simply shot him a look.
"Not today Dad, but would you like to tell me why you're all looking at Quil like you'd like to rip his head off!" Each one of them froze, but it was Quil's expression from the corner of my eye that concerned me most. His face paled, fork poised half way to his mouth, eyes wide—he looked terrified. Of me, of them, I wasn't sure.
Charlie, Billy, and Jake were trying their best not to make eye contact, instead staring directly at their plates. Involuntarily, my body began to quiver, the possibilities of what Quil's reaction could mean bringing terror down upon me. Could Jake have been wrong? I didn't want to believe he had been, but at that moment, I wasn't sure what was happening.
"Quil?" My voice was small, coming out much quieter than I meant it to, and I turned to face him, ignoring everyone else.
"Please don't," he whispered, so softly I almost didn't hear him despite the fact that he was sitting right next to me.
My heart beat quickened, the sound of the blood rushing through it pounding in my ears, and I suddenly felt like I might be sick. His non-answer was creating more fear than the answer itself ever could. "Tell me," I pleaded with him, locking onto his eyes so he could see how much hurt I was feeling.
I saw the indecision in his eyes, he was battling with himself—not sure what information he should give me, or what he should keep hidden. It was less than a minute before I noticed it, the choice he made, and I braced myself.
He averted his gaze, looking at his fidgeting hands that lay in his lap. "I can't," the words came out sounding choked and strained, but I no longer felt the pain, the weariness of being hurt. No—I felt rage. Uncontrollable, pent up rage building like a fire throughout my body.
He had walked away from me on Saturday night. He had left me to question our relationship. The emotional rollercoaster I'd been riding for the last three days was entirely his fault. I wanted answers - no, I needed answers.
My eyes narrowed, my hands curling into fists, and both my dinner and our obviously uncomfortable audience forgotten. Steeling my voice with more certainty than I felt, I kept my eyes focused on the side of his face and spoke, "Then I can't either."
His head snapped up and his eyes frantically searched mine for the meaning behind my words. In an instant the panic I witnessed returned, though for an entirely different reason I was sure. "Bella, no, please," he began to beg, but I shook my head, not allowing myself to listen to his words. He'd had his chance to speak and chose not to.
Without another word I stood, giving Billy, Jacob, and Charlie and apologetic smile as I held back the tears I could feel coming. My chest constricted tightly with each step I took, but I knew I couldn't stay in that house. I couldn't be near Quil at that moment—I had to get away.
If he couldn't be open with me—trust me— then it was better that I ended things sooner rather than later. Or, at least, that's what I tried to convince myself of as I ran out the front door as quickly as possible, attempting in vain not to stumble on the gravel driveway on the way to my truck. I managed to only slip once, the small rocks biting into my skin and making me hiss out in pain.
I batted the tears away from my eyes as they flowed freely, blurring my vision slightly. Ragged breaths escaped me as I tried my best not to fall apart while driving. I just need to make it home. It didn't register with me that I'd arrived at my house, that I'd parked crooked in front of my home, or that I'd somehow managed to drag myself inside. I was numb—a feeling I hadn't felt in so long. Whispers of a memory from long ago tugged at my mind.
The fact that my bedroom door was open despite the fact that I'd closed it when that morning did not process in my mind either, and I walked right in. The figure already waiting for me, however, snapped me from my stupor. My anger returned and flared up in full force.
"Bella, it's not what you think—" he started, but stopped as soon as he caught sight of my face, my wet stained cheeks and vacant eyes that stared him down with a searing gaze. "Bella?" He walked forward tentatively, palms up in surrender.
"Oh, so now you want to talk?" I snapped cruelly, allowing myself to channel my newfound emotions towards the man I loved so deeply. "What happened to 'I can't tell you' Huh?" My tone was mocking, raising an octave at the end.
Quil flinched at my words, but did not offer up any excuse. A bitter laugh escaped me, the sound foreign, and I walked over to my bed, ignoring him completely. Not bothering to look up I spoke, "Just go."
He remained where he stood. "I love you."
The soft words floated towards me and made my heart swell and ache at the same time. The anger whooshed from my body at the three simple words, my love from him overtaking all other feelings I may have been trying to hold onto.
Shaking my head furiously, I felt a new set of tears slide down my face. "Why won't you tell me then?" My voice was now completely broken, defeat making itself known. "Why don't you trust me?" I looked up at him questioningly through glossy, tearful eyes.
His feet moved soundlessly across the wooden boards of my floor as he came to sit beside me. I cowered against my pillow, not ready to forgive him entirely and allow him to touch me. He saw the slight movement and thankfully kept his hands to himself.
"Bella, look at me."
The sound of his voice caught my attention—the way it cracked slightly, yet still full of… love? I couldn't deny his request, and I glanced up briefly, really looking at him for the first time since entering my room. His eyes were watery, the unshed tears glistening with the setting sun that shone through my bedroom window.
He locked his gaze on mine and began to speak again. "I love you, and I do trust you." One hand rose up slowly, and when I didn't move he reached over and wiped the trail of wetness from my cheeks, then dropped back down by his side.
"Bella, you're everything to me, but there are some things that I just can't tell you. And I need you to be ok with that. I know I'm asking a lot of you, I get that, I do, but I love you so much. I can't stand the thought of losing you."
I could both see and hear the sincerity of his words, and I felt the knot in my chest loosen ever so slightly; each one of his words ringing in my ears, my mind absorbing their meaning. The intensity of his stare became too much, and I dropped my gaze.
"I love you too, I just feel… so… so…" I trailed, suddenly at a loss for words because at that moment, I wasn't sure what I was feeling; my emotions were all over the place.
He reached a hand over and took mine, and I allowed him. "Jake told me that you thought I was cheating on you," he offered when I didn't continue, "Well, more like he accused me of it and nearly kicked my ass while I was over at Sam's." He chuckled humorlessly, lightly brushing his thumb across the back of my knuckles.
He tugged on my hand to get my attention, and I glanced up at him curiously, his expression hesitant. "Do you really think that?" The question game out softly, like it caused him physical pain to actually ask.
I shook my head, "No, but once the idea was in my head… I just couldn't get it out, you know? And you've been acting weird, and I didn't know what to think." I shrugged, my reasoning sounded lame even to my own ears.
He changed positions, turning his entire body towards me and taking my other hand so both of his were tightly wrapped around my own. With a serious tone he spoke slowly, voicing each word clearly, "I have never and will never cheat on you. Ever."
It was that simple sentence that broke me, sobs bursting from me as I threw myself at him. He released my hands quickly to brace himself from the blow, wrapping his arms around my body instead. One hand brushed up and down my back in a soothing manner. "I'm so sorry," I cried into his neck.
I felt him place a kiss on my head as he squeezed me tighter. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have given you any reason to worry."
A giggle broke through the sobs, and I pulled back. "Well then we're both stupid and sorry," I smiled at him. He grinned back and nodded, but I didn't give him a chance to respond before I rushed at him again, pressing my lips against his almost violently.
The resounding growl that I felt vibrating from his chest spurred me on, and I fisted my hands in his hair. Leaning back so I could lie down, I pulled him with me, shifting so he could settle himself between my legs.
It didn't matter that I was practically panting and in desperate need for air, I attacked his mouth with a vigor I never had before. I was unleashing all the emotions I'd experience throughout the day, channeling them into the love filled lust that consumed me.
His hips pressed into me, and I moaned—loudly, encouraging him with the slightest thrust in return. Our lips broke apart when I white spots began to form before my eyes from lack of oxygen, but his mouth never left my skin. Instead, he traced tongue down the length of my throat to my collarbone, nipping and licking at the skin. Each touch eliciting sounds from me that I could not control.
My body was on fire, burning for him—his own fiery body heat already coating me in a thin sheet of sweat. I felt him tug at the hem of my shirt, and I raised my arms, allowing him to pull the scrappy piece of cloth up and over my head, before he tossed it to the side and onto the floor.
It was only then that I realized Quil was already shirtless, not that that fact should have surprised me, but I reveled in the feel of his scorching, muscled chest touching my naked flesh. His fingers made quick work of popping the button open on my jeans, and I whimpered in anticipation, pulling him back towards my face for another insistent kiss. My tongue darted out, licking across his lower lip before slipping inside and sliding languidly against his own.
I couldn't get enough of him, I wanted more. My shoes kicked off easily, and I barely heard the small thud as they hit the floor. And then Quil was breaking away from our kiss despite my protest, and scooting backwards on the bed. I eyed him questioningly, but understood when he reached for the waistband of my jeans, tugging them over my hips. I lifted off the bed slightly so he could finish the task. He then stood, quickly discarding his shorts and adding them to the growing pile of clothes.
Quil and I had made love many times during our time together, and we were no strangers to each other's bodies, but as he stood before me naked, I could help but to drink in the sight appreciatively. I'd come close to ending thing between us, the sobering thought was enough to remind me how much I loved the beautiful man before me.
His lazy grin made me smile as he climbed over top of me, wasting no time in reconnecting our passionate embrace. "Please…" I whimpered between kisses, "I want you, now." Another growl rumbled from the back of his throat.
With one quick movement he was inside me, and I threw my head back at the sensation. The feeling of him filling me completely was indescribable; I never wanted to feel anyone else in that way- only him. He began rocking against me, planting kisses wherever his lips could touch as I did the same. I met each of his thrusts, grunting and moaning each time he slammed back into me.
We both knew that the moment we were sharing was different than all the others, more special somehow, and it wasn't long before I felt the familiar tightening in my lower abdomen beginning to form. "Oh, God…" I ground out when he swiveled his hips against mine, my eyes rolling back in my head ever so slightly.
"Bella…" Quil told me in warning, and I knew neither of us could hold on much longer. My legs tightened around his waist as I felt myself clamp down around him, waves of pleasure rippling through my body as my back arched off the bed.
He quickly thrust into me twice more before I felt him shudder, his own orgasm overtaking him. We were both panting out our breaths as he collapsed against me, rolling over and pulling me atop his chest. "I love you," he whispered, one hand stroking my hair softly.
With eyes half closed in exhaustion, I placed a single kiss against his chest. "I love you too." We lay there, in each other's arms; both curled around the other as well fell asleep—together.
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