And then he pulled the helmet off so that he could kiss me.
As Edward drove me toward La Push a little while later, I realized that this unprecedented situation felt oddly familiar. It took me a moment of thought to pinpoint the source of the déjà vu.
"You know what this reminds me of?" I asked. "It's just like when I was a kid and Renée would pass me off to Charlie for the summer. I feel like a seven-year-old."
Edward laughed.
I didn't mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renée and Charlie had been on better terms.
About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Jacob leaning against the side of the red Volkswagen he'd built for himself out of scraps. Jacob's carefully neutral expression dissolved into a smile when I waved from the front seat.
Edward parked the Volvo thirty yards away.
"Call me whenever you're ready to come home," he said. "And I'll be here."
"I won't be out late," I promised.
Edward pulled the bike and my new gear out of the trunk of his car-I'd been quite impressed that it had all fit. But it wasn't so hard to manage when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small motorcycles.
Jacob watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark eyes indecipherable.
I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.
"Do you have it all?" Edward asked.
"No problem," I assured him.
He sighed and leaned toward me. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Edward took me by surprise, fastening his arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as he had in the garage-before long, I was gasping for air.
Edward laughed quietly at something, and then let me go.
"Goodbye," he said. "I really do like the jacket."
As I turned away from him, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes that I wasn't supposed to see. I couldn't tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. For a second I thought it was panic. But I was probably just making something out of nothing, as usual.
I could feel his eyes on my back as I pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire – werewolf treaty line to meet Jacob.
"What's all that?" Jacob called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic expression.
"I thought I should put this back where it belongs," I told him.
He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face.
I knew the exact point that I was in werewolf territory because Jacob shoved away from his car and loped quickly over to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He took the bike from me, balanced it on the kickstand, and grabbed me up in another vice-tight hug.
I heard the Volvo's engine growl, and I struggled to get free.
"Cut it out, Jake!" I gasped breathlessly.
He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road.
"Nice," I commented, allowing some acid to leak into my voice.
His eyes widened in false innocence. "What?"
"He's being pretty dang pleasant about this; you don't need to push your luck."
He laughed again, louder than before-he found what I'd said very funny indeed. I tried to see the joke as he walked around the Rabbit to hold my door open for me.
"Bella," he finally said-still chuckling-as he shut the door behind me, "you can't push what you don't have."
11. LEGENDS
"ARE YOU GONNA EAT THAT HOT DOG?" PAUL ASKED JACOB, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge meal the werewolves had consumed.
Jacob leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along its blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I'd lost count of how many hot dogs he'd eaten after his tenth. Not to mention the supersized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer.
"I guess," Jake said slowly. "I'm so full I'm about to puke, but I think I can force it down. I won't enjoy it at all, though." He sighed again sadly.
Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Jacob, he glowered and his hands balled up into fists.
"Sheesh." Jacob laughed. "Kidding, Paul. Here."
He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty.
Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex.
"Thanks, man," Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper.