Emme Fenway's life is heating up, spurred on by her father's death and an impromptu move across the country.
That heat isn't the problem, though. The problem is that Quileute boy, and he's bringing a heat all his own...
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Time is funny sometimes. When I was with Paul and my boys, time seemed to fly like fast forward, never stopping for a single moment, never slowing down. One moment flashed to another with those boys. I was beginning to think they had no setting between off and high. My time with the Cullens flew by even faster. Between shopping with Alice (hell yeah!) and proper ‘family time' with Emmett and Rosalie, I felt cheated. It was like there weren't enough hours in my lifetime, and none of those hours were solely mine anymore. Meanwhile... all my intentions pulled me in other directions. But I was dead set on all the monsters in my life being happy. And maybe that was just that. I was dead.
"You should really sleep more," said Paul, a heavy (and very hot) arm draped around my shoulders as I snoozed in his arms.
I blinked sleepily at him. "I can sleep when I'm dead."
Paul frowned. "If you don't slow down, you'll be dead."
I had blown him off at that, closing my eyes again and dozing. Of course, he was probably right. Which was probably why I ignored him so completely. I hated it when he was right. Especially when I was wrong in the process. I felt him kiss the top of my head softly, which is probably about the most affectionate thing he's ever done in his life. I smiled and drifted to sleep. When I woke up, I was snug in my own bed, having smothered myself in my comforter in my sleep from the draft of my wide open window. Damn sneaky werewolf. He snuck me in. I yawned and stretched, getting up to shut the window. I could almost hear Rosalie in my head.
Rosalie: Oh, you poor thing! Didn't that dog think you could get a cold from all that wind?
Me: Probably not. He can't exactly feel the cold anymore.
Rosalie: You could have gotten so sick!! What would I have done then?
Me: Geez, I dunno. Go buy a nice baby doll or a Barbie or something?
Rosalie: Maybe you are sick and we just don't know it! Oh, how horrible!
Me: I'm sure Lissy would loan you a baby, if you don't mind that she's colored on all of them with pen.
Rosalie: Let me take your temperature!
Me: Emmett! Save me from your lunatic wifey!
Emmett: I have to go hunt bears, sorry.
Me: I'm doomed!
Rosalie: I got the thermometer, baby!
It was a horror show in my mind. I shook my head, yesterday's ponytail bobbing awkwardly where it had pulled and shifted to the side of my head and my school clothes from the day before sticky and sweaty where I had slept in them. I needed a shower. Pronto. I rubbed my eyes, unintentionally giving myself the biggest coon eyes you ever did see by smearing my mascara halfway down my cheeks. Oh yeah. That's hot.
I stayed in the shower for a long time. Longer than I really needed to. I should probably invest in a shower clock... one of those cool ones with a radio to sing along with. I don't know about the rest of the world, but I must admit that the best acoustics in the world are in my shower and in my car. Especially in my car when no one else is there. Yes, yes.
I got dressed as slowly as I bathed, throwing my hair into a messy bun. I had taken the time to straighten my bangs so they wouldn't frizz everywhere, but not the rest of my hair. I tucked them behind my ears and applied minimal makeup. I had made up my mind somewhere in the middle of my ridiculously long shower that I was staying home today... no matter what. Paul calls, wants to see me immediately? No. I'm busy. Leave me alone. Alice calls, wants to go shopping? Okay, maybe. But probably no. Rosalie calls, wants to have family time? Dear god no, even if I wasn't planning on staying home. For Emmett, maybe. Rosalie? Uh-uh.
I went down stairs, my feet leading me to the kitchen at my stomach's bidding for a late morning breakfast on such a lovely Saturday-almost-noon. Lucky Charms seemed appropriate, so I dished myself a bowl hurriedly, spilling the uber yummy marsh mellows and not so yummy cereal-cereal onto the counter.
"Ooh... Em-mutt made a mess," Lissy cooed from somewhere behind me. I smiled, turning around and squatting down to her level.