Welcome to Unanswered Questions!

Summary: Resident geek, Jasper, has been lusting after the ever popular college quarterback, Emmett, for two years. Are the two of them really so different? Can they overcome their past and find answers to the questions they are searching for?

Disclaimer: We don't own these characters or anything Twilight. We ask that you are over 18 to read this fic due to its 'M' rating; themes of a sexual nature and strong language throughout.

A massive thank you to Mabarberella for editing this bad boy twice, and for being such a super beta!


Chapter 3: Confrontation

Jasper's POV

Alec promised to clear the party out soon before turning to look at me.

"For what it's worth, that was the best set I've ever seen you play tonight."

I smiled at the memory of earlier, which now seemed so long ago. It was quite easily the best set I'd ever played in my life.

"Thanks, man."

Alec closed the door quietly behind him, and I fell against the pillows, still clutching Emmett's shirt close to my heart. I struggled to absorb what little comfort it had to offer and tried to force away all the memories of the nights I had laid here, basking in vivid fantasies of Emmett. Back then, even speaking to him seemed so far out of the realm of my reality, and now so much had been shared between the two of us in such a short amount of time. It was a dizzying, intoxicating thought.

A burning haze of lust and desire crept over me as my mind replayed our time together without my permission. It was a cruel and desperate pleasure I allowed myself, but one I'd given into so many times before that it was difficult to resist. I tried to convince myself this was no different than any other night - that I was no closer to Emmett now than I ever had been - and that I could allow myself to wallow in lust without feeling the pain.

I inhaled deeply allowing the familiar desire to cling to my every thought before my body quickly gave into a deep, restless slumber.

It was sometime later that the sun pierced through the open window, forcing me from the safety of sleep. As I awoke in the confines of my room; the memories of the night before invaded me with full force. I was sprawled out on my stomach across the expanse of the bed, my feet teetering precariously over the edge. I groaned out loud, my body pressed flush and firm against the quilt.

My head was pounding.

I flopped to my back, and instinctively, my arms slumped against my face and forehead, shielding me from the glare of the offending sunlight. My limbs were a heavy mesh of lacklustre life and muted hope as I held the soft cotton still trapped in my fist, letting it settle across my bare chest. I inhaled deeply, desperately holding on to the last hint of his musky tenors.

The scent was heady and intoxicating, and it completely consumed the space around me. I welcomed its dulcet tones and breathed it in greedily, desperate for more. But no matter how much I tried to lose myself in its warmth, I couldn't. The weight that had been temporarily lifted from my shoulders during sleep was now fully restored, and I was in a foul mood. I waited for a few moments before my hand clambered around, first looking for my glasses, then for the dreaded alarm clock.

Pulling my glasses on and attempting to focus, I turned the alarm clock to face me. I groaned again when I saw the time. It was already half past nine, and I had planned to be on campus by ten today. The rehearsal rooms were only free for a few hours in the morning, and I wanted to spend some decent time practising. Even if I rushed, I wasn't sure that I would make it on time.

I caught sight of my guitar case leaning against the wall in the corner, and my mind instantly focused on one solidifying thought: playing my guitar made me feel like nothing else in the world mattered, and in that moment, I could sure do with that welcome distraction. With a renewed sense of inspiration, I leapt from bed, grabbed a towel, and took the fastest shower known to mankind.

I would make it on time.

Throwing on an old faded grey band t-shirt and ripped jeans, I thrust my glasses back on, grabbed my beanie and guitar before rushing down the stairs to my old truck. I slung the guitar case carefully and lovingly across to the passenger seat and pulled onto the street, ready to challenge the morning traffic.

It wasn't long before I was pulled into the parking lot. I found my usual spot at the far end of the lot, away from humanity. I preferred the desolation of this end of the lot; it meant no one would harass me in the mornings. I couldn't exactly say the same for the rest of the day.

Lost in thought, I finally pulled to a halt. I turned the key, allowing the engine to sputter to a halt, when a rap on my window startled me out of my musings. I jumped, dropping the keys on the floor like a fool. I certainly wasn't expecting to meet anyone this morning, and no one ventured around this side of the parking lot, especially not to see me.

I looked up hesitantly to find Rosalie staring at me with intent. Her eyes were trained on mine and immediately my defences went on high.

What the fuck does she want?

She knocked again impatiently, before flipping her perfectly coiffed hair over her shoulder, daring me to question her authority. I rolled the window down reluctantly, aggravated by the way the window jammed and jolted on its way down. I didn't understand my need to measure up to the standards Rosalie seemed to require from me. She always had a way of reigniting any scant trace of insecurity I might harbour; she made me feel like the inferior teenager we once both knew.

"You need a new heap of shit, Jasper. This truck's older than you."

A swirl of fear and anxiety circled within me as I tried to work out why Rosalie was here. I hadn't spoken to her in over a year, and frankly, a lifetime without speaking to hear again wouldn't have been long enough. It was clear from her offensive stance that she wasn't here to catch up, that was for sure.

"Yeah, thanks. Is that all? I'm pretty sure you didn't come all the way across here to look out for my road safety."

I couldn't keep the rudeness from my tone, not that I really wanted to. I didn't have time for Rosalie's games today.

She snorted in an unladylike fashion, yet still managed to remain attractive – by a straight man's standard, at least.

Sure, she was curvaceous, graceful and definitely more mature than any other girl I had met at this college. Her blond locks were the color of commercialized dreams and most likely natural, or so she told everyone. Her lips were always too red, her breasts too large, her heels too high, and her skirts too short. Yet as trampy as that all seemed, she still managed to carry an air of high-society sophistication. My heart sunk as I realised her description wasn't at all different than what Emmett had described as his ideal candidate last night.

Rosalie knew the power she wielded and used it well with the acute positioning of her hands, fingers, lips, tongue – mimicking every fantasy a college guy could and did have. It was nauseating to watch. Even if I was straight, she wouldn't be my ideal by a long shot. Her personality left much to be desired, and her connections were not complimentary to her record but rather markers which left her perfection flawed in my eyes.

"Like what you see?" she asked with a smug smile, noticing my blatant stare.

"Hardly," I snorted.

She leaned down, closer to the window sill and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She cupped her cleavage inside her elbows, and I wondered why she even bothered; she knew I wasn't looking, now or ever. Instead, my eyes trailed to meet hers and rested where her smile once lay. It was now gone; in its place was a snarl.

It wasn't like Rosalie to do her dirty work out in public, and I was pretty sure this wasn't a social visit, so whatever she had to say, it was important.

"Last night was your lucky night, Jasper. It won't ever happen again," she seethed.

I stared at her, open mouthed. Even though I was used to Rosalie's sharp analysis and blunt attitude, I was still knocked off-kilter.

"Don't look so surprised. I saw you both talking, and I know it wasn't about the weather, so cut the crap, Jasper. You got lucky, but it's over. Whatever it was, it won't happen again, understand?"

Her words hit me like a sledge hammer. I hadn't even considered that someone had seen us leave together. I wasn't exactly sure what this meant for Emmett – my attention was quickly consumed with what people would think of him for leaving with me.

"How did you –" I choked out.

"Typical," she snorted. "You don't think of anyone but yourself, Jasper. As it happens, no one else saw you leave, and as far as you and anyone else is concerned, he didn't leave with you."

She flicked her hair back, the picture of confidence, while I remained shocked in silence.

"Let's keep it that way, shall we? I would hate to have to make a phone call to Maria,and I won't have you ruin my Emmett."

The possessiveness in her last statement was not lost on me. It laced her tone, her words, and her cold, harsh stare. She had me nodding, submitting to her as my mind propelled itself back two years prior. I choked back the thick emotions that clogged my throat as I was reminded of the darkest days of my life.

"Oh, and Jasper?"

I looked up, unsure of what else she could possibly have to say. She had made her point loud and clear. Rosalie was still head bitch and would remain the bane of my life for as long as we lived within a hundred mile radius of one another.

"You need a new wardrobe. Grunge ended in the nineties."

She turned and swished her hips as she trotted off into the distance leaving me stunned in silence.

The walls I had so carefully built around myself crumbled in that moment. Gone were the confidence and the coping mechanisms that I had strived to keep in place all this time. All that was left was a former shell of that seemingly confident person. Rosalie was the nail in the coffin. I always knew I had no hope, no chance with Emmett. Last night was some cruel twist of fate. Even by his own admission, I was not his – I was simply the one night tryst of a confused college guy who didn't know what he wanted. He would look back on this day in the future and laugh. Or cringe. Either gave me a horrible mental image.

I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel; tears that I could no longer hold back leaked down my cheeks unbidden.

I should have known this would happen. I should never have spoken to Emmett in a public place – I owed him that much. I knew tongues would wag, and the last thing I wanted to happen was for Emmett to face a college sentence for something he didn't deserve.

It was no secret that being gay and being a jock were mutually exclusive categories. No matter how mature most of the student body tried to act, it was clear many of them did not support my choices. Not that it was their business, but I knew they wouldn't even harbour that much acceptance for someone as popular as Emmett. I dreaded to think what Jacob would say or do if he knew of our association. I had seen someone else fall to a similar fate, by my own hand, and I dreaded the notion of it happening again.

But that was the thing. Jacob wouldn't know. Rosalie had made sure of that.

I rested my head back against the head rest and let out a sigh. I removed my black square-rimmed glasses and rubbed the offending tears away – ashamed I had let the whole situation get so out of hand.

Sure, that's who I had been, but it wasn't who I was now. Giving in to what I knew had to happen to protect him, I reached down, grabbing my keys and took the handle of my guitar case with a firm grasp. It was no use getting worked up over something I clearly had no hand in. Rosalie had once again decided my fate, and I would have no choice but to abide by it.

It was for the best.

The air surrounding me was thick with apprehension as I mustered up the last of my courage. My grip on the handle of my guitar case tightened.

Craning the door open, I lugged my guitar case across the center console and stepped out, locking the door behind me. I looked out over the lush green campus grounds, sizing up the path I had to take. It was relatively quiet, most students no doubt forgoing Monday morning classes.

I slung the strap of the guitar case over my shoulder and dug my hands into my pockets, clenching the car keys painfully in the palm of my hand in search of distraction. I kept my head down as I made my way across the quad towards the music room, hoping I wouldn't draw attention to myself. A few melodies ran through my mind, and I tried to focus on the space between the notes rather than Rosalie's haunting words. They echoed through my mind, taunting me in their cruelty.

No sooner had I lost myself in the notes than I heard his voice. I looked up, startled from my reprieve, and was met with concern. Emmett stood towering over me expectantly.

"Jasper, I've been trying to call you—"

It was the truth. My phone had so many missed calls this morning; I knew looking up at him in that moment he was genuinely concerned. It made this all the more difficult to do. Rosalie's cutting tenor drove through my chest; 'I won't let you destroy him.' I knew what I had to do.

I straightened up to my full height and looked Emmett directly in the eyes with a forceful gaze.

"Do me a favor, Emmett. Leave me the fuck alone."

I knew it was harsh, and I knew the sentiment behind it was a lie, but I had no other choice. I wouldn't put Emmett in Rosalie's warpath. I wouldn't make another suffer for the choices I had made in my life.

Not again.

His jaw fell open as if my words had physically struck him. The confusion and shock in his eyes seared into my soul, and I forced myself to not look away. I deserved it; I would remember every inch of his face in its contorted confusion and hurt for as long as I drew breath.

"Jasper, I'm really sorry. Truly, I am. It was all a misunderstanding. I wasn't thinking straight. Please, Jasper; please don't do this. I...I really like you."

His words tumbled out in a mesh of apology and desperate pleas.

My stomach knotted.

I hated what I was about to do; I didn't want to do it, but I knew better. I had to do it...for him.

"It was just a fuck, Emmett. Get over it."

Before my hesitation could set in and cause me to take it all back, I turned and fled like the coward I was, leaving Emmett standing in the wake of my words, still hanging stagnant in the air.

I slammed the door to the lower level of the art building wide open as I marched forward and away from Emmett. I made my way up several flights of stairs in a hurry, desperate to get to the sanctuary the practice room had to offer before my walls came crumbling down around me.

Foolishly, I wasn't looking where I was going and slammed into something hard.


My feet kept moving, despite the shocked, yet familiar voice.

"Jasper, dude, what happened?"

I turned over my shoulder and shot Alec a glare. "Nothing man, just leave it."

I walked through the final door shoulder first, my guitar case clinking loudly against the glass. Alec chased behind me trying to keep pace, muttering about how I clearly wasn't fine. I finally stopped still; it was clear that he wouldn't let this lie. Spinning on my heels, I ran my hands under my hat and through my hair trying to calm myself down. The last thing I needed was a full freak out in the middle of the damn corridor.

"Alec, please. Just leave it alone; I can't do this, not now. I just need some space," my tone was tinged with desperation.

He paused for a moment, taking in my anxious state before speaking cautiously.

"I'm not gonna ask if you're okay, 'cause I can see that you're not. But you said you would talk to me today, and I'll be adding this...whatever this," he motioned with his hand, "is, to our list. I'm working later, but the house should be clear for a few hours after I get home. Be there, alright?"

His eyes searched my own for a long moment, silently pleading for agreement. I eventually nodded. Frustrated with him, I knew he was looking out for me and it was no good trying to get out of our talk later. I had promised him that much.

"Alright. If you're sure you're okay for now, I have to get to work, but remember;" he said, turning to head back the other way, "We're talking. Tonight."

"Fine. Whatever," I called back, somewhat non-committally.

I huffed, thrusting my hands back into my pockets and prayed I wouldn't bump into anyone else. I shrugged my shoulder, repositioning the shoulder strap and made my way up the final corridor before I stumbled up to the music room. I knocked on the door, even though I knew it would be empty and waited a few moments before swinging the door open.

Room 5B was at the furthest end of the building and was nearly always empty. It was a safe haven away from prying eyes and wagging tongues; I knew I was safe here. I slung the guitar case down from my shoulder, onto the closest chair, and made my way over to the bay window. I pulled together the ceiling high heavy curtains, closing out the majority of the morning sun and let out a deep breath.

Today had been, without a doubt, the closest I'd come to feeling that desperate, lost, and panicked feeling that I thought I had long-since buried. I cursed Rosalie for dragging me down to such a low but refused to let this situation get out of hand. At the very worst, I would have to suffer through a few extra days of cold, harsh glares from Rosalie before it all blew over. No doubt someone would have witnessed Emmett and me in the quad, and she would know that I had done as she asked. At least Emmett would be spared.

Emmett was not mine.

He never will be, I reminded myself.

I turned back to my guitar and opened the case, thankful that I still had one piece of calm in my life. I lifted the lid, licking my hand across the cherry red veneer. 1957: the years that dreams and my Gibson Les Paul were made. A small smile played on my lips as I took in the curves of the accentuated body. It had been a congratulatory present from my folks for making it into college and I held it in high esteem.

I lifted the guitar with reverence, sliding the leather strap across my shoulder before sinking onto the cushioned bench next to the case. The curve nestled itself around my thigh and my fingers drifted across the steel strings, welcoming the cold, ribbed texture. As I plucked the first note, my mind finally set about freeing itself from the torment of what had to have been the worst Monday morning I had endured in quite some time.


Emmett's POV

I stood frozen as I watched Jasper march away. I knew I must have been staring like a total moron, but I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes from him until he disappeared completely from my sight. I truly had no idea what the hell had just happened. I mean, Jasper was clearly upset about last night, and he had every right to be, yet, to spur that kind of hostile reaction...something wasn't right.

"Emmett! Hey, asshole, what the hell are you doing?"

I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts and turned towards to the voice that echoed in the morning air. Seth stood across the way, motioning me over expectantly, and I forced away the grimace that reflected my true feelings about this fucked up situation and put on my familiar calm mask. Whatever happened between Jasper and myself was to stay that way; between us. Before my mind caught up with my feet I suddenly found myself surrounded by a bunch of football buddies and some of the girls in our group, all of whom were talking excitingly.

My heart sped when I saw Rosalie standing across from me, her eyes dancing wickedly. They held a twinkle that I was familiar with; it was smug and gloating, giving away the fact that she'd just gotten her way with something...or someone. It was a look that I knew all too well, one that never failed to unsettle me. I'd seen it both before and after we'd broken up over a year ago. It was no secret that Rose always seemed to get what she wanted, and it was well known that I certainly wasn't something she was ready to give up on.

I finally refocused my stare away from her and to Seth, who'd originally asked the question.

"Nothing, man, just heading to class."

I shrugged my shoulders, hoping my nonchalance would throw him off from asking any further questions. He seemed sated by my usual demeanor and wasn't one to look into things to deeply if it wasn't required.

The group quickly dispersed leaving me alone with Rose, as was our normal Monday routine. We had an English Lit class together, and this morning, I absolutely dreaded being anywhere near her. Something just didn't feel quite right and I didn't need her attitude to interfere with what was already shaping up to be a shitty morning. Rose and I had gone to high school together; we had dated our freshman year. I knew her pretty damned well, and I knew she was up to absolutely no good now.

Her eyes quickly trained on mine – full of intent.

"So, Emmie," her syrupy sweet voice fell from those sexy blood-red lips as her hand slid over my arm. I cringed internally at the nickname; it made me sound like a fucking chick. "I took care of your little problem, baby. You don't have to worry about Jasper anymore."

I nearly gave myself whiplash turning to look at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw you leave with him last night, Em, and it's okay. I don't think anyone else did. I took care of it, though. He won't be bothering you again," she purred.

I frowned at her as the pieces started clicking into place. Like visual puzzle pieces of gray matter snapping together in my brain, I now understood Jasper's previous reaction, followed by her smugness, the whole fucked up thing. It was clear Rose had forced her hand and said only God knows what to Jasper. She could be a cold and heartless bitch, and from what I knew of Jasper, I knew she had the potential to crush him.

I forced my practiced smile and turned to her.

"Rose, sweetie, you've got a little too much time on your hands," I said lightly with a wink.

Her cold, ice blue eyes narrowed in on me.

"Emmett, you need to be careful. Word of something like this getting out could damage you, baby. I'm going to protect you from that."

I couldn't believe the words I was hearing. She wanted to protect me? She didn't even know me. She had never understood me; she never would. Not in all the years I had known her had Rose ever looked out for my best interests first. I refused to acknowledge she had spoken, instead setting a firm pace towards the classroom. I wanted no part in her games.

"Besides, what would Jake and the guys say if they found out?" she spat.

I stopped in my tracks. My patience was wearing thin, and it was all I could do to keep the damn smile on my face as I shook my head at her. I wouldn't let her get a rise out of me.

"Listen, I've got some shit to do. Will you tell Professor Miller that I got sick?" I asked, making sure to flash her my best smile.

She stopped walking along side me, studying me for a moment. I couldn't tell if she would go along with me or tell me to fuck off.

"Where are you going?"

"I've gotta go talk to the coach," I responded quickly, lying out my ass. "I forgot about something he asked me to do and have to get it taken care of. We have that game on Friday, and I don't wanna let the guys down, you know?"


If there was one thing Rose cared about almost as much as herself, it was the team. To her, it was who you knew, not what you knew, and anything to make sure she associated with the best, or in this case, the winners, she was always game.

"Okay, Emmie," she cooed, sliding her finger down my arm. "I'll miss you."

I forced another of my fake smiles and darted away from her, rounding the corner into another hall. My heart pounded wildly as I practically fell into the nearest bathroom. Sweat beaded on my forehead. With a glance in the mirror I took a deep breath.

"Get it together, pansy."

With that bit of self-advice, I splashed water on my face, inhaling slowly a few more times before drying it roughly with a paper towel. I sank to the floor, my back against the cold hard tile. I couldn't find it within me to care about the dirty floor or the fact that I was in a fucking public bathroom. My mind was far more concentrated on the clusterfuck that had emerged in the last day and a half.

I slept with Jasper.

I didn't even know what to make of that thought. Everything I knew about myself had changed irrevocably and as my lips turned upwards, I knew without a doubt that change was for the better. Everything about Jasper pulled me in, consuming me in the best possible way.

Then I screwed everything up with Jasper.

But more importantly, Rose had gotten to Jasper.

There was no way of telling what she could have used to bend him to her will; she was the type of person who seemed to have a little dirt on everyone. Yet, Jasper? I didn't even know she knew him. And after what happened last night, maybe Jasper didn't need another reason to stay away from me. Maybe he regretted everything with the morning light...maybe it hadn't even taken until morning light.

I sighed, slamming my head back against the tiles.

I had to at least try and make this right with him. If after we talked he decided he wanted nothing to do with me, I'd have to deal with it, but I couldn't leave it as it was now. I wanted him – every part of him, and I didn't care who knew.

I wanted to apologize to him – to tell him about how I fucking panicked; I had choked and was an asshole to him. If I could just see him, just find him to tell him how much I was willing to do to make it all right again.

I had no idea where to start.

My mind raced as I thought of where he'd possibly be, but I knew so little about him – a realization that both surprised and saddened me. I didn't know any of his classes except for the one he shared with me; I didn't know where he lived or what he did in his spare time other than his band.

His band.

I jumped to my feet, inspired by the thought. Without another thought, I grabbed my backpack from the floor and darted out of the bathroom, through the hall and out of the building. My brain carried my legs before my mind could catch up, and before I realized how far I'd gone, I was across campus and walking into the bookstore.

The jingle of the bell caused his head to dart up from the magazine he'd been reading, and when he registered that it was me, his face clouded with a mix of strange emotion. I could only assume that he knew what had happened; I was sure he and Jasper were close.

"Hey Alec," I said casually, strolling to the counter and never breaking eye contact with him.

He sighed.


"Alec, I need to find Jasper."

His brown eyes studied me for a moment. "Emmett, Jasper is very upset. I don't know if now is the right time."

"I know," I said quietly. "but I need to see him. I need to apologize, Alec. Please. Let me make this right."

He nodded, quietly thinking over my plea before he finally broke the silence around us.

"Listen to me, Emmett. I know you're a good guy, but don't fuck around with him, okay? If that's what you're doing, walk away now while the damage is minimal. I won't let anyone put him through anymore bullshit than he's already had to deal with, Emmett. You'd better be fucking careful."

I swallowed.

Sure, Alec was a small guy, but the fire in his gaze and the tone in his voice scared the living hell out of me.

I nodded.

"I...I just need to talk to him, Alec. Now."

After a long, intentional silence that spoke louder than his words, he nodded again.

"He's in music room 5B."

"Thank you!" I nearly shouted and didn't wait for his reply as I ran out the door and back across campus.

Dammit. Jasper had been so close the whole time.

The thought pushed me forward.

My legs pumped, and my breathing sped as I ran as quickly as I could to the music building. I pushed open the large glass doors and ran down the red velvety carpet of the large hall surrounding the auditorium. As the first practice room came into view, I stopped, hands on knees, trying to catch my breath before seeing him. I only had one chance to make this right.

With a slow exhale, I walked past the first several rooms until I came to Suite Five. I turned down the hallway and slowed even further. The door to 5A was closed, but the fact that the door to 5B was wide open registered in the same moment that notes poured from that room, filling the air with the same confident, powerful current that I'd experienced the evening before.

It was completely Jasper.

I crept forward scared to stir the air, scared to break whatever trance I'd fallen into. When I saw him, I relaxed and leaned against the door frame, my eyes fixing on his back as he sat on a tall bench by the window, his blond curls brushing the top of his leather jacket as his arms moved in tandem to create the soulful, talented notes of the real Jasper that rested underneath the quiet, calm, collected man I'd admired from a distance for so long.

I was entranced and wished more than anything that I could see the look of intensity on his face, could see him lost in his world of music - lost in the notes and the feeling he created. In that moment something changed. The tempo picked up, the notes darkened and Jasper attacked the red guitar with ferocity.

Suddenly the notes screeched to a halt as his fingers slammed against the instrument.

"What part of leave me the fuck alone did you not understand?"

Struck first by the fact that he knew that I was there and then by the words growled from his throat, I stood silent for a moment, searching for anything to say. Before I could put a sentence together in my head, let alone out loud, he slid around on the bench to face me. His green eyes were on fire with an anger so intense I felt the strong instinct to turn away.

"Seriously," he said, his voice no softer and his gaze shooting a laser through me. "I don't understand. Don't you have practice to get to? Long, leggy blonds to fuck? That sort of thing? Congratulations. You nailed me. Now let's just move the fuck on and forget about it."

He turned his back to me and sat back down on the bench.

My blood thumped through my veins as I forced my anger down.

"Jasper, that's bullshit and you know it."

He turned to face me once more, quirking his eyebrow.

I shook my head, taking a step toward him.

"Look, I was an asshole last night. A huge fucking asshole. I should never have said what I did, and I'm very sorry that it hurt you, Jasper. I froze. I mean," I sighed, sitting next to him on the long bench, relieved when he didn't move away. "I meant what I said to you last night. I've wanted you for so long, and not for one night, and not just for your body, Jasper. I've wanted this, but I didn't know how to handle the situation last night."

He was silent, his curls hiding his face from me. I wanted him to say something – to say anything – but he didn't. The silence almost crushed me, and I sighed again, running a hand through my hair.

"This doesn't excuse my behavior last night, Jasper, but...it's a huge change. It's one that is going to change my entire life."

He turned slightly, finally allowing me to look at his eyes. The anger had faded away, and all that was left there was hurt, pain, and rejection.

"You're going to lecture me on what a huge life change it is, Emmett? You're going to tell me how people are going to see you differently? How people are going to treat you differently?"

I cringed. "There's a bit of a difference for me, Jasper."

His eyes narrowed, challenging me.

I nodded. "I've never, not once, been attracted another guy before I was attracted to you. Never."

"What am I supposed to say to that?" he spit out.

I sighed. "You don't have to say anything to that, Jasper. It's just a huge deal to me. I – I just wanted you to know that. I've…already decided that you're worth that."

With those words, his eyes softened a bit, and he stared for a long few moments. Finally, his gaze fell to his lap.

"I can't."

I risked reaching for his hand and grasped onto it lightly. It was such an odd feeling, that level of intimacy with another guy, but I couldn't deny that it felt right.

"Jasper," I said quietly, waiting until his eyes reached mine again before continuing. "Did Rosalie say something to you?"

His green eyes widened. "What?"

"Don't let whatever she said bother you, Jasper. She likes to act ruthless, but nothing she can say or do would change my mind about you."

He shook his head. "You...Emmett, you don't understand."

"No," I agreed. "But whatever it is...it doesn't matter."

He glanced up at me again through those curls, hope dancing in his expression. He looked sexy as fuck, and I smiled at him.

"Give me another chance to prove to you how serious I am."

Biting his full lower lip, Jasper nodded and finally smiled.


Review if you love Jasper playing his guitar!