Full Summary:

Who knew that three minutes in a closet could change your life? Bella Swan is dragged into a game of Spin the Bottle at a party and ends up in the basement closet with a complete stranger. Will she find out who was her mystery man is? And what about the new family that just moved to Forks? All characters are human.

Warning: there will be no lemons in this story, just some steamy moments and some occasional profanity.

THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED

I couldn't believe that Rosalie had convinced me to go to another one of these parties. The only reason she went was to be seen there, not that she needed to flaunt her popularity and high authority anymore than she already did. And for whatever reason, she had to drag me along with her, dressed up in clothes that I would have never picked up off the rack myself; I stopped asking after the prices after she told me that I was once wearing a three hundred dollar top -- and makeup done better than some of Hollywood's professionals.

Rosalie had the radio blasting to some music that many would call tasteful, and was speeding down the highway to one of our fellow student's house. Although, she always sped: speeding was her car's specialty. Her red M3 BMW convertible was an exclusive order, directly from Europe. It had been a gift from her father for her seventeenth birthday.

Rosalie Hale was my rich, Prada wearing, (sometimes) bitchy, insanely gorgeous best friend. She had been since my arrival in Forks, Washington ten years ago, when I arrived with my parents at the age of seven; we had come here after my father accepted the offer of 'Chief Swan' at the local police station.

It was no secret that my mother had hated this town at the start and, I have to admit that it was not exactly on my list of Top Ten Places I wished to live for the rest of my life either, but I didn't let that show, unlike my mother. As always, my emotions were well hidden.

It wasn't that my father was unaware of that fact or didn't try to face that matter. It was just the opposite. He was never given the credit he deserved for his various attempts at helping my mother fit in.

So, from the chaos, fights formed. Disputes erupted at any given moment when my mother decided to let out some form of pent up frustration. Crises were left unsolved, and I was left to pick sides and reason with whomever later came to me, asking for my opinion and sympathy.

In the end, all I had was Rosalie: the only one who listened to my babbling and ranting on about my parent's compulsive fights.

It was no surprise that we had our differences; the list was endless, but didn't stop our relationship from blossoming into something that I truly cherished.

Maybe not so much on nights like these, when she dressed me up like a stripper and dragged me along with her to these parties. As usual, she had threatened me with something that I knew she would have indeed done, had I not caved - such as giving Mike Newton my phone number.

"Is your brother meeting us there?" I questioned, praying that he was coming. This way, at least I had someone to occupy me - be my shield, as it were.

"Yeah, you know how he likes to take his own car so he can sneak out early." Yes, I silently hoped that he would take me with him. "Oh, and don't you even dare try catching a ride with him, like you did last time." Damn it, why does she suspect these things?

Jasper was also my friend. Although, he was much shyer than his sister. We talked once in a while, but he distanced himself from me, as he did with everyone, and those conversations quickly faded. The number one way to get Jasper Hale talking, and almost the only way, was to start discussing two things: his guitar and the Wild West.

The Hale twins had grown up in Texas where the country spunk stuck onto Jasper. Unlike Rosalie, where after a year of moving to Washington, there were no traces remaining.

The pretentious convertible – which stuck out like a sore thumb in the mass pile of cars parked on the grass and remaining driveway - pulled up to the medium sized, brick home, all too soon for my liking. Rosalie eagerly shut off the engine and pulled out her matching red key. In one fluid motion, she opened her door and jumped out, landing flawlessly on her black stiletto.

She began to walk away, leaving me sitting in the car. I crossed my fingers, hoping that in her hurry to get inside, she had forgotten about me. But she suddenly figured out that there wasn't a second pair of clacking heels next to her, and whipped her head around to glare at me.

"Come on, Bella. What are you still doing in the car?" her hands went automatically to her hips, like she did many times when she was enraged at something or someone, or annoyed at some sort of news.

I didn't bother responding, knowing that I would lose either way. Opening the door carefully, I placed one heel-clad foot on the pavement, trying, unsuccessfully, to find some sort of balance. None came, even after I was fully out of the car. I released my death grip on the door and tried to take a tiny step forward. One foot in front of the other, Bella, I chanted to myself.

Eventually, we made it to the door. How anyone heard us over the loud music blasting from our classmate's newly acquired speakers was beyond me, but after a minute a disoriented sophomore answered the door. She swayed drastically and giggled as the man who clung to her kissed her cheek.

"Oh goody, the beer has already been broken out and halfway demolished," I muttered to myself.

"Don't be such a party pooper, Bella. That is what people do at parties. Remember that we have had this discussion before. Now, go try to have fun and I will meet you in the kitchen in an hour. Don't drink too much," she teased, before walking away to do god knows what.

I stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands stuffed in the tight pockets of my skinny jeans. I pulled at the hem of my striped corset, before walking off slowly, searching for Jasper.

As I poked my head into the dining room, I found most people dancing to a decent, slow song. My eyes picked out Angela, my other sane friend at Forks High. She was latched onto her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, looking blissfully happy in his arms.

Sighing, I leant on the wooden panel, and watching them teeter from side to side. She caught my adoring eyes as he turned her and she waved her delicate hand and offered me her friendly smile. I waved back, trying to smile convincingly, as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I'm surprised that Newton hasn't swept you up to dance, yet." I looked to my left side and found Jasper nudging his shoulder with mine.

"Let's hope that I am long gone by the time he finds out that I am here." Mike Newton was the beholder of this party and probably number one on my fan club list.

"And I wish that Lauren would stop trying to push herself on me," Jasper muttered wishfully. I giggled, knowing that Lauren was just as bad to him as Mike was to me.

It was quiet again as we both gazed out at the couples dancing to the detestable music.

"So have you met any of the new students who just moved from Chicago?"

Who said this – Jasper or Bella?

"No, I didn't have any classes with them, although I heard plenty of rumors."

The school was buzzing this morning when I arrived. It is rare when we receive a new, let alone three. Apparently, their father was the new doctor in our local hospital and their mother restored historic houses, or something. The fact that erupted the most gossip, was that they were adopted. Why that fact was so fascinating to the student body was unthinkable to me.

"I had one class with the female. She seemed pleasant and much smarter than most of the students here. From what I heard, they were in some sort of private school for geniuses. Her younger, adoptive brother is supposed to be the same."

"Hmm," I mused. It would be nice to add some intellect/intelligence to our student body. Besides the Hale twins and a few other selective students, the rest of the school's minds were filled with gossip and lustful hormones. I was concluded to be one of the decent ones, and included myself in that list.

"The faculty wasn't aware of this, I am guessing, because if they are the extremely gifted children I have heard of them to be, they would have been in our classes…" I murmured.

"Yeah, it seems that the two youngest ones are getting new schedules tomorrow."

"Good for them," I muttered to myself.

Time passed slowly as Jasper and I talked about nothing of importance. As usual, our subjects drifted off after a few sentences, leaving us with a comfortable silence that accompanied us most of the time - until someone of great dislike broke in.

"Bella, I am so glad you could make it to the party. When did you get here?" The enthusiastic puppy, as I always referred to him as, asked. Mike Newton's blue eyes were bright with enthusiasm as they took in my appearance.

I wobbled slightly on my shoes and shot Jasper a pleading glance. "Not too long ago," I finally answered.

"I think I am going to get a can of soda. Bella, would you like anything?" Jasper pitched in suddenly. I shot him another distressed look as he started to walk away.

"Wait! I just came over to ask you two if you would like to play a game we are starting down in the basement?"

"No thanks, Mike. I'm not much of a game player, but I'm sure Bella would love to." And with that, Jasper walked off towards the kitchen. He was so getting it later.

"So you'll play, Bella?" Mike looked so hopeful that I couldn't think of breaking his heart. And this is why his crush is encouraged, I reminded myself.

"Sure." I shrugged my shoulders hopelessly, as he ardently took my hand and started to lead me to the basement door. "So what exactly are we playing, Mike?"

"Spin the Bottle, with a twist, though."

Oh god, what did I get myself into?

The basement was lit with an almost burnt out bulb and was not overly crowded, but enough so that people were pushed against the walls.

I immediately found Rosalie backed up against the wall with some guy leaning down around her. One hand was placed on the wall by her head. She laughed at something and I could tell the guy was checking out her chest as she did so. It was typical Rose behavior: flirting with guys, leading them on, and then squashing their hearts so that they were scarred for the next few years to come.

But there was something different about this one. Maybe it was her expression, the way she appraised him. Or the way she twirled a piece of hair in her hand. Whatever it was, this guy was weaseling his way into her heart.

He leant down to kiss her on the cheek, before walking off to the opposite corner. He started talking with some other male, but his massive figure made it impossible to see who it was.

I took the opportunity to talk to Rose before the game started. Maybe I could get her to leave early.

"Who was that?" I asked a clearly distracted Rosalie.

"Hmmm?" her gaze still was steadied on the guy across the room, who caught her admiring stare and smiled at her like she was the love of his life.

"Him. Who is he?"

"Oh, no one," she answered simply.

"Well, you seem obviously interested in him for some reason."

"I'll tell you later, Bella." Her voice alerted me that it would be a very long description.

"Okay, everyone, take a seat somewhere on the ground so that you can hear the rules..." Mike announced anxiously.

Rosalie pulled me over to her right side while Mr. Unknown strolled up to her left and plopped himself on the ground beside her.

She giggled as he took her hand and kissed it. I had never seen her act this way towards a guy before. It was if he had put some sort of spell over her that clouded her mind and sanity.

I didn't recognize him from our school; he must be one of the new ones. But in the bleak light of the basement, I couldn't clearly make out his features.

After everyone had settled into a slightly convincing circle, with a bottle placed in the middle, Mike explained the rules.

Someone would spin the bottle. Once it landed somebody, they were blindfolded and shoved into the closet. Then a second person, of the opposite sex, was chosen and then, too shoved into the closet. Then after their three minutes were up, the second person to enter the closet would exit, followed by the blindfolded one, who was to remain ignorant about whom their mystery date was.

But these were high school children - no one in that room could keep their mouth shut if their life depended on it.

And so the game began.

The bottle was spun a countless number of times. People came in and out of the closet, hair messed up and clothes disheveled.

After about thirty minutes, I had yet to be chosen. Maybe I wouldn't be a victim tonight.

And right then, I cursed it.

The glass bottle landed, straight at me. I groaned inwardly as Rosalie clapped cheerfully.

She took the blindfold from the last person who had stumbled out of the closet and tied it tightly around my head, before leading me into the dark, cramped space.

Once the door snapped shut, I fell against the wall and let my head fall into my hands.

Here I was stuck in this closet, because I had politely agreed to play some stupid, immature game of Spin the Bottle.

I was dreading my approaching doom. The last setting I wanted my first kiss to be in was in Mike Newton's basement. Or anyone's basement for that matter.

Luckily, whoever was picked would be unaware of that fact. The only person alive, who knew just how inexistent my love life was, was Rosalie. And even she wouldn't have found out if I could have helped it, but I was a tad too drunk to monitor what came out of my mouth. It was a few years ago, at one of the former infamous Mike Newton parties. The incident happened after one of my parents', now frequent, raging fights and I decided to drown my sorrows in tons of alcohol.

I was broken out of my reverie when the door swung upon, letting the dim light of the basement filter in for the briefest second before it was swiftly closed again. I dreaded who it could possibly be. I was not oblivious to the fact that I had quite a few admirers at Forks High.

And I knew that the only way I would find out would be when said person bragged to their impudent friends about who they made out with in the basement.

I stood up unsteadily on my heels and stepped hesitantly away from the wall.

The stranger, I guess you could call him, came towards me; his ragged breath reached my face. I wondered why he hadn't already eagerly attacked my mouth with his. It was as if he was bracing himself, for whatever reason I was unaware.

His feet scuffled as he stepped closer to me. His hands reached out to take hold of my waist. Immediately, the touch of his fingers to my skin sent an electric current through my veins. Either he felt me flinch or he too had felt the shock, because his hands jerked back an inch, before replacing its original position.

His hands were hesitant and shaky as he outstretched his fingers, taking in my curves and faintly tracing the outline of my hip bones. Again, his simple touch sent my body into frenzy. Maybe, it was because I had never been in this situation before - not just locked in a closet with an unknown person, but never kissed or touched intimately. But whatever it was, my hormones were finally kicking in as his hands wound around to the small of my back.

He drew me in till my breasts were pushed against his chest. My hands went to his broad shoulders. My fingers could outline the toned muscles, but they stayed frozen as one of his hands began to gently feel its way up my back to my hair.

Our breaths were ragged in the darkness. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand up as he leant down to inhale the scent at my neck. His nose drew a line up to my pulse and skimmed across my ear. His breath blew out in a whoosh as he whispered in a surprisingly husky voice.

"You smell quite enticing, my dear." My knees felt weak and my eyes seemed to roll back into my head at his smell that lingered on his chest.

As I pondered an appropriate response to such a comment, he dipped his head and placed a single, delicate kiss on my collarbone. Without checking my reaction, he continued the same path his nose had made up to my neck. His kisses became more lecherous as he neared my ear. With his mouth open, his tongue darted out once more to taste my neck.

And finally, my knees gave out. My body couldn't take the lust for him anymore. It was overloading my brain and he hadn't even kissed me on the mouth yet. For Pete's sake, Bella, get a grip!

The unknown, extraordinary angel chuckled as his hold on my waist tightened. He pushed me the two steps backwards and my back came in contact with the cold wall.

"What am I going to do with you, Isabella?" Without thinking or even contemplating how in the hell he knew my name, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"Whatever you like."

"Really? Anything?" he laughed again and the sound made my top five favorite sounds.

"So this is okay?" his hands moved expertly up and down my sides. All I could do was nod.

"And this?" He leant forward again so that his lips brushed against my ear painfully slowly. Then he placed a tender kiss at the base of my ear. Again, my head bobbed up and down.

"What about this? Hmm…" his lips leant towards mine until they were a centimeter away. The contact I had craved since his first touch was so close, yet still too far away.

"This doesn't bother you, does it?" his whispered in the lowest voice and I heard his gulp in anticipation.

"Not at all," I managed to squeak.

"Good." And then his lips crashed with mine. It was not what either of us expected. When our lips met in heated passion, the fire spread deep through my skin, clogging my head with ragged? Thoughts and filling my stomach with an ache I had never experienced before.

And god did he taste good: sinfully good - almost better than his smell, which was masculine and had faint traces of a spice, like ginger or cinnamon maybe. Whatever it was, I couldn't seem to get enough. I was completely enamored with his scent.

Long, skillful fingers reached down to my thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Easily as if a weighed a few pounds, he picked me up so my legs tightened around his waist. His hands then tangled into the roots of my hair and mine went to his too.

Our tongues battled with a crazed, lustful dominance as our hands explored the skin of each other's bodies. I was feeling up the muscles of his toned back and abs, while he traced sensual patterns across my stomach and around my back, where his hands found the slit of exposed skin from my corset.

My fingers ran along the collar of his shirt and around to the buttons. With shaking fingers, I opened the next three buttons. The skin exposed was silky, only interrupted with the occasional hairs sprouting out at the top.

I realized that the back pockets of my jeans were now occupied with his hands. My ass tingled with his touch so near and I kissed him more forcefully, if that was possible.

And then the dreadful knock interrupted our make out session.

His lips didn't seem to want to pull away and I wished that he would just ignore it, as I was doing. Or maybe our moans would just turn them away.

Cause our lips,
Can touch,
And our cheeks,
Can brush.
Our lips,
Can touch;
here.

When you are the one, the one that lies close to me.
Whispers "Hello, I've missed you quite terribly."
I fell in love, in love with you suddenly.
That there's no place else I could be but here in your arms.

--Here In You Arms by Hellogoodbye