“Grow up, Jacob.” “I wish I could,” he murmured quietly. I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. “What?” Jacob chuckled. “One of those many strange things I mentioned.” “You… can’t… grow up?” I said blankly. “You’re what? Not… aging? Is that a joke?” “Nope.” He popped his lips on the P. I felt blood flood my face. Tears—tears of rage—filled my eyes. My teeth mashed together with an audible grinding sound. “Bella? What did I say?”
