The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(90)

“See you,” I murmured.

Edward faded into the trees, heading in the opposite direction.

As soon as he was gone, Jacob turned cheerful.

“What’s up, Bella?” he asked with a big grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Bunch of vampires trying to kill you. The usual.”

“The usual.”

“Well,” he said as he shrugged into his jacket to free his arms. “Let’s get going.”

Making a face, I took a small step closer to him.

He bent down and swept his arm behind my knees, knocking them out from under me. His other arm caught me before my head hit the ground.

“Jerk,” I muttered.

Jacob chuckled, already running through the trees. He kept a steady pace, a brisk jog that a fit human could keep up with . . . across a level plane . . . if they weren’t burdened with a hundred-plus pounds as he was.

“You don’t have to run. You’ll get tired.”

“Running doesn’t make me tired,” he said. His breathing was even — like the fixed tempo of a marathoner. “Besides, it will be colder soon. I hope he gets the camp set up before we get there.”

I tapped my finger against the thick padding of his parka. “I thought you didn’t get cold now.”

“I don’t. I brought this for you, just in case you weren’t prepared.” He looked at my jacket, almost as if he were disappointed that I was. “I don’t like the way the weather feels. It’s making me edgy. Notice how we haven’t seen any animals?”

“Um, not really.”

“I guess you wouldn’t. Your senses are too dull.”

I let that pass. “Alice was worried about the storm, too.”

“It takes a lot to silence the forest this way. You picked a hell of a night for a camping trip.”

“It wasn’t entirely my idea.”

The pathless way he took began to climb more and more steeply, but it didn’t slow him down. He leapt easily from rock to rock, not seeming to need his hands at all. His perfect balance reminded me of a mountain goat.

“What’s with the addition to your bracelet?” he asked.

I looked down, and realized that the crystal heart was facing up on my wrist.

I shrugged guiltily. “Another graduation present.”

He snorted. “A rock. Figures.”

A rock? I was suddenly reminded of Alice’s unfinished sentence outside the garage. I stared at the bright white crystal and tried to remember what Alice had been saying before . . . about diamonds. Could she have been trying to say he’s already got one on you? As in, I was already wearing one diamond from Edward? No, that was impossible. The heart would have to be five carats or something crazy like that! Edward wouldn’t —

“So it’s been a while since you came down to La Push,” Jacob said, interrupting my disturbing conjectures.

“I’ve been busy,” I told him. “And . . . I probably wouldn’t have visited, anyway.”

He grimaced. “I thought you were supposed to be the forgiving one, and I was the grudge-holder.”

I shrugged.

“Been thinking about that last time a lot, have you?”

“Nope.”

He laughed. “Either you’re lying, or you are the stubbornest person alive.”

“I don’t know about the second part, but I’m not lying.”

I didn’t like having this conversation under the present conditions — with his too-warm arms wrapped tightly around me and nothing at all I could do about it. His face was closer than I wanted it to be. I wished I could take a step back.

“A smart person looks at all sides of a decision.”

“I have,” I retorted.

“If you haven’t thought at all about our . . . er, conversation the last time you came over, then that’s not true.”

“That conversation isn’t relevant to my decision.”

“Some people will go to any lengths to delude themselves.”

“I’ve noticed that werewolves in particular are prone to that mistake — do you think it’s a genetic thing?”

“Does that mean that he’s a better kisser that I am?” Jacob asked, suddenly glum.

“I really couldn’t say, Jake. Edward is the only person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Besides me.”

“But I don’t count that as a kiss, Jacob. I think of it more as an assault.”

“Ouch! That’s cold.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to take it back.

“I did apologize about that,” he reminded me.

“And I forgave you . . . mostly. It doesn’t change the way I remember it.”