Felicity
It only took a couple of days to realize that Paul was going to be staying at the apartment more often than not. I didn't know the particulars on why, and I didn't ask, but I could definitely understand the feeling of wanting to be anywhere but at your parents' house, so I let it be.
I also realized pretty quick that Paul was cool. He had the attitude of a ladies man with the snark and humor of a good friend. He didn't actually try to hit on me at all, though, which I was thankful for. The last thing I needed was to be fending off his advances. No, instead he was nice and funny and I could definitely see us being friends, even if we hadn't met through the connection of Elijah.
So with Paul sleeping in the extra room in the apartment and showing no signs of getting himself thrown out anytime soon, I decided it was a good idea to clean out the random things of mine and Elijah's taking up space in there. A good portion of it was easily relocated to another closet or the garage, but there were a couple boxes of items that Elijah would probably need sooner rather than later. I'd told him I had no problem with storing the belongings that he didn't take with him until he settled somewhere, but these things were work-related. Files and business clothes that I was surprised he hadn't already shown up to claim. Surely he had some work clothes with him, but he had to be washing them constantly. And I had no idea how important the files were, but the fact that he'd brought them home in the first place instead of leaving them at work kind of pointed to them as something he needed.
Which brought up the dilemma of how to get the boxes to him. I could call him—but I didn't really want him over. Or to see him at all, which was childish but nonetheless true. Maybe I could just keep them here until he asked for them. Avoid the situation until he made it unavoidable. Who was to say he needed the boxes anyway? I was only speculating. Maybe he'd bought more clothes. And maybe the papers were garbage.
But then again, what if they weren't? What if he did need them?
I brought up my conflict to Paul one afternoon and he said, "Drop them off at Sam's house. I'll give you the address and some directions." Then he went back to eating his massive bowl of Frosted Flakes. Honestly, I'd never met anyone who ate as much as him, ever. The guy used a mixing bowl to eat cereal, for crying out loud. And he did it while grumbling about how I needed to acquire larger bowls.
Now I gaped at him, and it wasn't because he could fit an abnormal amount of cereal in his mouth. "I can't do that!"
Paul frowned. "Why not? You said you don't want him here—so go there."
Shifting in my seat, I shook my head. "I don't know Sam, or anyone else who might be there. What if his new girlfriend is there? No," I decided. "That would be a disaster."
He sighed, rolling his eyes. "His girlfriend should really have some damn sympathy, don't you think? And you don't need to know anyone else who might be there. The only people who hang out there are cool."
"And you can guarantee that," I deadpanned.
"Of course I can." Paul smirked. "They're people I hang out with."
The corner of my lips twitched. "So you're cool?"
He shrugged, scooping the last few flakes into his spoon. "You said it, not me."
I couldn't help it—I snorted. "Right. So that's settled, then."
"Great." He took a sip of the milk left in the bowl. "I'll write down those directions for you."
My eyes widened. "What? No—"
"Be right back!" he called, and then he was gone. Poof. Just like that. Apparently he could move fast. Even further proof of that came when he strolled back into the room barely a minute later, a sheet of paper in his fingers. "For you."
Instead of reaching out and grabbing the offered paper, I glared. "No."
He grinned. "Felicity. Yes."
I continued to glare.
"You can either take this and go or I'll call Elijah and tell him you're crying and too devastated to get out of bed."
Gasping, I snatched the paper from his hand before he could say anything else. "You're the worst."
Paul laughed. "I'm the best. Don't worry, everyone there will be fine. We're not a bunch of assholes, you know."
I gave him a pointed look, but said nothing as I left the room, Paul's chuckles echoing behind me.
~*~*~
Later that day, I stood on the porch of an unfamiliar house, torn between knocking on the door and turning around and driving home. This was probably a terrible idea. Yes, Paul was cool, but that didn't automatically mean that this Sam guy would be fine with me dropping by for something that Elijah may or may not need. I should have just called him.
But I was already here. And I'd carried the boxes onto the porch—they were now resting by my feet.
So I decided I might as well know.
I didn't even remember giving my hand permission to lift, but next thing I knew I was knocking on the door. No turning back.
For a few weighted seconds, nothing happened. I heard nothing from the other side of the door and thought maybe I'd come at a time when no one was home. From listening to Paul, it sounded like there was always someone going in or out of this house. But maybe he'd been exaggerating.
Then the sound of soft footsteps approached from inside and my thoughts cut short as I braced myself. The door opened, and a woman a couple of inches taller than me stood on the other side. She had dark tan skin, just like Paul, and her hair was black. Her face was kind, and she had some scars torn into one half of her face. I didn't linger on that, though, as I took in her curious expression.
"Hello," she said. "Can I help you?"
Biting my lip, I tried to remember what exactly I'd decided to say. Or did I not plan that? I should have. "Um..." I shifted on my feet. "Uh, does a man named Sam live here?"
The woman nodded, right as a rather large man stepped up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I do," the man said. "And you are?"
My eyes were wide as I studied Sam. He was tall and well built. Not quite as buff as Paul, but the guy still obviously worked out. His expression was impassive as he studied me, though I thought I caught a faint flicker of recognition in his eyes but it was too brief for me to be certain.
"I'm Felicity," I practically whispered, all my confidence vanished. "I—um—Felicity Logan."
Just like that, understanding settled on both their faces. The woman even gave me a small smile.
I had no idea what they thought of why I dropped by, but I had a feeling they were building it up to be something it wasn't, so I continued before either of them could speak. "I wanted to drop off these boxes for Elijah. With Paul staying at my place so often, I wanted the room he's staying in to be clean, so I cleared out all the extra things in there. Most of it got moved elsewhere, but this is stuff I think Elijah might be missing, so I thought..." I trailed off, realizing I was rambling. The smile was gone from the woman's face now, and she was watching me with sympathy. Sam was frowning. Pulling in a deep breath, I finished, "Could you please make sure these get to him?"
Sam blinked. "You don't want to give them to him yourself?"
I was shaking my head before his sentence was even finished. "No! No, definitely not. I just wanted to drop these off and...go."
He stared at me for a moment more before nodding. "Alright." Stepping around the woman, he bent down and lifted the boxes as if they were nothing. If he weren't a stranger, I'd have made some sort of comment because I'd struggled to cart those things from my car to this porch. No fair that they were apparently like feathers to him.
"Thank you," I said, moving to leave.
"Wait!" the woman called, hand outstretched toward me.
"Em," Sam said, voice soft.
"I'm Emily, Sam's fiancee. Please, come in for a few minutes. I have come brownies cooling in the kitchen. You can have one and we can talk for a few minutes." Her eyes were practically pleading with me to accept her offer, and I was so confused. Why would she want to make friends with me? If this was where Elijah was staying, that had to mean she was a friend of his new girlfriend, right?
"That's very kind of you to offer, but I couldn't."
"Please," she said.
Crap. She looked so nice. I opened my mouth to accept her offer—just one brownie and then I really had to leave—when a noisy truck pulled up next to my car. All three of us looked over to see a pale brunette slide out of an old red pickup, stumbling a little as she slammed the rusty door shut. She eyed me warily as she approached, and I stepped off the porch to get out of her way.
"Maybe some other time," I told Emily, torn between being glad to have an excuse to leave and kind of disappointed because Emily seemed like a great person and she'd really wanted me to stay. "You have company. I wouldn't want to intrude."
Sam remained silent, watching this whole thing play out while holding those boxes, but Emily's eyes were sad. "You wouldn't be intruding."
I didn't get a chance to respond before the brunette was stepping in front of me onto the porch, waving awkwardly at the couple in the doorway. "Hey," she said, as if she wasn't interrupting a conversation. "Is Jake here?"
Emily was leaning around her to see me and appeared to be about to say something, but a voice from inside boomed, "Bells!" as heavy footsteps moved closer, so I didn't wait to hear what else Emily had to say.
I turned and ran.
Well, it was more like a power walk. But either way, I raced to my car, starting it and driving away before even stopping to buckle my seatbelt. Emily had been nice and Sam had been fine, but I was not ready to take my chances with whoever that Jake guy was. Everyone there was friends with Elijah's new girlfriend. With my luck, Jake would have turned out to be an asshole and I was so not in the mood to deal with that. I could barely hold it together to drop off some stupid boxes as it was.
Yeah, I did not need to have confrontations with Whatever-her-name-was' friends.
As I stopped at a red light and took a deep breath, I allowed myself to dwell on my one small victory today—I'd gotten those boxes out of my apartment and to someone who could give them to Elijah without actually having to see Elijah. It was a weak win, but I'd take it.
At that point, I'd have taken anything.
~*~*~
Jacob
Stopping in my pursuit of sweeping Bella into my arms for a bear hug, I asked, "Who was that?" Emily looked like someone had run over her cat, and Sam was standing there with a couple of boxes in his hands with an odd expression.
Bella shrugged. "No idea. I thought you'd be at your house! I'm supposed to basically be glued to you, right?"
I smiled even though my mind was still on whoever that girl was who'd just sped away. "While I like the sound of that, and I'm all for you sticking to me like glue, you don't have to attach yourself to my hip. You only have to stick to the rez—no requirement to spend that time with me." I was surprising myself with my words. Since when did I not want Bella to spend any and all time with me? I should have been taking this excuse and running with it. Maybe I was too tired. Patrols were still doubled up with the threat of the redheaded leach—who I refused to call by her name, no matter how many times Bella reminded me of what it fucking was—so that was plausible. That was probably the reason for my general faded interest in Bella, too. I wanted her to be mine, I just needed some rest to feel less...indifferent about her.
"That," Emily said, breaking into mine and Bella's conversation, an edge to her voice I didn't think I'd ever heard before, "was Felicity Logan."
My brows arched. "Really? What was she doing here?"
Sam answered that one. "Dropping off these." He bounced the boxes in his arms a little.
"Wait, that's the girl whose husband is with Leah now, right? Why was she here?" Bella asked, her face set in confusion. It was kind of adorable.
Kind of? I thought to myself. Since when did I find things about Bella only "kind of" anything? I really needed a nap.
"To drop these off," Sam repeated, his tone cold. Technically, this was pack business—as was anything to do with imprinting. He likely was not happy to have Bella present for this conversation.
"Was that actually the reason, or was it an excuse to see Eli?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and resting against the house.
Emily shook her head, mouth set in an annoyed line. "She didn't even ask to see him."
"Actually," Sam corrected, "she specifically asked not to see him."
"So definitely not an excuse."
Emily huffed out a sigh. "She was sweet. I wanted her to come in and chat for a few minutes. I can only imagine how lonely she feels."
Bella lifted a shoulder. "At least she's polite."
I snorted. "What?"
She gave me a small smile. "She left when I showed up. Didn't want to intrude on company."
Ignoring Bella, Emily turned and stomped by me into the house. I couldn't help but gape a little at how upset she was. Emily was so kind, and I hadn't seen her get testy except for when any of us tried to snatch some food before it was ready—and even then she was simply joking. So for her to be so worked up over Eli's wife... "Did the girl say something to set off Em?" I directed my question at Sam quietly.
Sam's brows rose. "No." Then he turned and walked in after Emily, taking those boxes with him.
Bella and I shared a look, but neither of us said anything. I had no idea what was really going on, so I decided to change the subject. "Emily's got some brownies in the kitchen. Come on in and snag one before the rest of the guys show up."
Bella smiled and followed me into the house. In the kitchen, Emily was setting the brownies out on the table, a pitcher of milk next to them. I was reaching to grab a brownie to scarf while pouring some milk for Bella and me when Emily shouted, "Elijah! Come down here!"
It was so shocking, I actually flinched. She'd appeared to be calming down, not preparing to have an outburst like that.
Apparently I wasn't the only one caught off guard, because Elijah came rushing into the room, Leah on his heels, only a few seconds later. "Emily? Are you alright?"
Emily was glaring at the floor, visibly taking deep breaths. Sam stepped up next to her and rubbed her shoulder. That seemed to snap her out of it. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Some of your things just got dropped off. You should take it up to your room." She pointed to the boxes now stacked on the counter.
Eli's expression was curious as he walked over and opened one of the boxes. When he saw the contents, he glanced up with wide eyes. "Where did you get this?"
"It just got dropped off," Em repeated.
"So..." He paused. "City was here?"
Leah snarled. "She was here!"
"Leah!" Emily scolded. "Stop it."
"They're over, does she not understand that?" Leah sneered. "Dropping by unexpectedly won't change that. She needs to get over herself."
I barked out a laugh. "Right. She's clearly the issue here. Not you and your crazy ass."
"Jacob," Sam warned.
I simply rolled my eyes in response.
"She was only dropping off these boxes," Emily explained. "She didn't even ask to see Elijah. I tried to get her to come in and chat for a few minutes over brownies, but she left when Bella showed up."
Eli frowned at Bella but said nothing.
Leah's scowl seemed to be permanently molding itself to her face. "Likely story."
The door banged open and Paul entered looking irritated. "Leah, stop being a bitch."
"You!" she yelled. "I refuse to talk to you. Practically living with her."
Paul laughed. "I kind of have to in order to give your precious imprint a place to stay, remember? And she's actually cool. Not that you've cared to find out." He grabbed two brownies off the plate, shoving one directly into his mouth.
"You're being nice to her, right?" Eli asked. "It's not a secret you can be—"
"An asshole," I supplied.
Eli shrugged, watching Paul.
Once he swallowed his brownie, Paul smiled mockingly. "I don't think that's any of your business, loverboy."
"Paul—" Eli started.
"No," Leah interrupted. "He's right. Why do you even care?"
Eli looked at her pleadingly. "You know why, Leah. I'm not in love with her anymore, but I still care."
"This is such bullshit," Leah said, then stomped out of the room. Instead of leaving, though, she went upstairs. To Eli's room. Where they'd have to further discuss this, again. Lucky him.
Eli sighed. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll take them up." He gathered the boxes and left the room.
"That went well," I said.
"They are..." Emily searched for a polite way to finish her sentence before saying, "...a mess."
Sam leaned back against the counter. "She needs time to adjust. She'll understand that can care greatly for other people without that taking away from how much he loves her. Eventually."
Emily nodded. "Leah's just sensitive."
Paul laughed. "Yeah, that's totally the first word that comes to mind when I think of Leah. But whatever, enough about them. What are you doing here, leechlover?"
I glared at him. "Shut up, Paul."
Bella shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "You don't know?"
"Oh, I know about the redheaded bitch. Still doesn't explain why you're here, causing trouble."
"It's hardly her fault that Leah imprinted on a married dude, Paul."
He returned my glare. "But she is the one who scared away Felicity. Who, by the way, I had to practically blackmail to get her to come here. She doesn't want to see Elijah and she thinks everyone here has a grudge against her."
"That doesn't make sense," Bella said.
Paul's eyes cut to her. "You have no idea. Don't even try to understand this situation."
"Paul," Sam sighed.
"The only one here who's angry is Leah," Emily said, paying no attention to the exchange between Paul and Bella. "Maybe I should invite her over and set things straight. She doesn't need to be nervous around us."
Paul shook his head. "Probably better to leave it. You won't be able to explain—" his eyes flickered to Bella "—things fully. But I might try to get her to come by for dinner or something sometime. I get the feeling she needs some damn friends."
Bella's face was drawn in confusion. "What things?"
We all ignored her.
"I guess that's better than nothing," Emily said.
"She'll be okay, Em," Sam murmured to her.
She rested her head on his shoulder as he curled his arm around her. "I know. I just remember how it was when we—" she cut herself off. "She had such a hard time."
Everyone in the room except Bella knew exactly what she was referring to, and Bella clearly noticed. She widened her eyes at me, a silent request for information.
I shook my head. The list of things I'd do for Bella was long and extensive, but betray my pack was not on the list. We were keeping her in the loop on many things—holding back on telling her about imprinting wasn't a big deal at all in comparison. And she wasn't a member of the pack or an imprint, so she'd already been given much more insight into us than she ever should have. Maybe someday, if things work out in a way that ends with Bella and I together, I'd be able to tell her.
But even as I considered that, I knew deep down that would never happen. I didn't know precisely why, but I just knew something would happen that wasn't in our favor.
And even as I realized that, there was a voice in the back of my head that was completely unbothered. I'd spent so much of my teenage life with a crush on Isabella Swan, but that didn't seem to matter anymore.
I didn't focus on that, though. Bella was here now, spending time with me. It was what I wanted, and I would make the best of it.
Even if my mind kept oddly straying to the girl who hadfled to her car earlier that day.