1-12 Portland, Oregon

“Does Edward talk to you?”

The rumble under my stomach felt almost like my own laughter rather than Jasper’s. It’s like that, sometimes. On the whole, I find the Bible sort of silly, but there is that one line that gets quoted in weddings, “The two shall be one flesh”? That’s what it is with Jasper. We become one flesh. When he laughs, it’s like I’m laughing.

Carlisle and Esme and Edward were gone, out to the mountains to hunt. That left Jasper and me alone, and we took advantage. He kissed my neck, right where my collarbone hits, and then stuck the tiniest bit of the blade of his tongue into the little indentation there, which tickled.

I smacked him lightly on the cheek as he laughed.

“It’s not funny.”

Jasper’s eyebrows raised, and he gave me this grin of his, where he cocks half his smile and looks up from under his eyelashes. Jasper has ridiculous eyelashes for a man.

His tongue darted out again, and I giggled.

“You thinking that there’s any way in hell that Edward talks to me?” He laughed. “No, that’s hysterical.”

Another long pause.

“So he doesn’t?”

“Edward doesn’t talk to anyone.”

Jasper burrowed down into the covers, disappeared from the foot of the bed and then, just when I thought he was going to leave the room, pounced.

His eyes flashed with mischievous delight. “Go again?”

I nodded. Vampires don’t get tired.

But as Jasper burrowed under the blankets and covered my body with his once more, I kept thinking about what he’d said.

Forward

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