Chapter 8: Guessing games


BPOV: La Push

“We're going to play, 'What about you',” he explained in a serious tone. He sat down across from me and flipped over the sheets.

There were ten questions on each page. One had questions about me, and the other about Jake.

Some were no brainers, like what color are his eyes. Duh! They're deep dark brown.

How tall is he? I don't know, he's still growing? What does he like most about being a wolf?

That was easy . . . the speed .The least? Exposing his private thoughts to the rest of the pack. His favorite food? I think Jake would eat just about anything. How often does his hair need cutting? I don't know, he never told me. Who's his best friend? Quil? Embry? His favorite hobby? Fixing cars. What's his goal in life? To be a mechanic? His favorite book? Dances with Wolves.

“Okay Bells, time's up. Let's swap papers.”

“I'll admit it, that first one was way too easy, but your eyes aren't ordinary brown, They're sort of like melted chocolate. Your turn.”

“Well how tall are you Jake?”

“Last time I checked six feet and seven inches.”

“Holy Crow!”

“Yeah I guess I really am a giant next to your puny five feet three.”

“Back to you Jake.”You got number three and four right, I do like taking care of Charlie, and I hate being weak and clumsy . . .”

“Yeah, you got mine right too. But the next one . . . I have to get my hair cut every other stinkin' week.

Number seven . . . I read Jacob's scrawl. I'm her best friend, she just doesn't know it yet. “ Am I really your best friend?”


“You're mine too, sort of. You have to share first place with Alice though. You know I love her too, right?”

“Sure, sure, as long as it's a girl- I can live with that.”

“You bombed on number eight, Bells, my favorite hobby is sketching.”

“But you're always tinkering in the garage.”

“Not when it's pouring outside.”

Gosh, I felt stupid, “ I never knew that.”

“Well, now you know.”

“So then, what's your goal in life?” I asked. “I always thought you'd be a mechanic.”

“I'd like to be a teacher. You know, I'd teach art, or mechanics, or both. Maybe I'll teach oilpainting, he smiled.

“That was so punny, ” I muttered.

“Oh, I almost forgot.”He reached over and picked up a small bag. He retrieved a bead and feather ornament from it and placed it in my hair, smoothing some stray locks at the same time. “Now you're an honorary Quileute.” His eyes shone in the lamplight, and the smile on his face could have all but illuminated the tent. He looked so adorable, I wanted to squeeze him to death.

Jake finally got up, grabbed some blankets and bundled me up. Then he whisked me away andplunked me down near a dance floor? He sat me on another blanket and removed my shoes. He took some scented oil and rubbing it between his palms, began to massage my feet. The warmth and the oil and the dexterity of his hands made me moan with pleasure. “I think I'll take you home with me,” I breathed. “ I could really get used to this.”

He got up, washed his hands at the makeshift sink, and started in on my neck and shoulders. I could feel the muscles relaxing one by one.

“Okay, Jake, I think you've done enough. When is it my turn?”

“No, no, this is your night. Anything for my Bella.”

“I think I will call it quits tho', before I start moaning.” Then he jumped up and the music started.















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