Friends to Lovers Contest
Title: Endlessly
Summary: He's my cinnamon-sweet soft spot, and I'm the friend who gives him everything. I'm just waiting for him to ask for more.
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: M
Prompt used: #30 - The One with the Nap Partners
Word count: 9474
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
A sweat-slick boy palm wraps around my wrist, and even though my first instinct is to yell YUCK and jerk away, I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be loud at a wedding reception. So I don't do that. I don't cause a scene. And luckily, when this particular boy speaks, I figure out that it's just Edward. And he's a boy, but he's not gross. Just a little sweaty when he's nervous.
"Bella," he tugs on my arm and whispers in my ear. His breath is hot and tickly and smells like Big Red chewing gum. I tuck my head into my shoulder and giggle and twist away because yeah, okay, my neck is super-ticklish.
"Sorry, sorry!" he says, pulling me back to whisper again. This time he doesn't get too close, so even though I still smell warm-cinnamon-sunshine, it doesn't make me twist away or laugh too loud.
"Bella, you have to help me."
I check on our moms from across the room. It's pretty dark, and the music's loud, so I don't think we'll get in trouble for playing right now.
I turn to face him and really want to mess up his combed-over hairdo. Normally, his bronze hair is crazy untamable and tangled, one big rat's nest, Esme says, but tonight he bought hair gel and she styled it for him. It looks different, and it's weird.
"Okay, nerd bomber, what's up?"
"Don't call me that!"
Edward hates to be called a nerd. And he's not one, he's actually really cool. But I know it bugs him. One time in elementary school I caught Mike Newton calling him one out in the courtyard after school, and I stuck my Bubblicious bubble gum in his sandy blond stupid hair and mashed it in so deep he had to buzz it off. I gave it a good yank while I was in there, too. He hasn't spoken to me – or Edward – since. Cause I'm the only person allowed to pick on the walking-nerd-alert.
"Sor-ry, Ed-ward." I seriously have to twist the skirt of my dress up into my hand to keep from ruining his hair style. He'd be so mad.
"Okay, just listen," he says, getting all serious and conspiratorial. He finally lets go of my arm so he can fidget with his necktie, and I have to wipe off the warmth.
He told me when we were getting ready that ties are really uncomfortable. I told him there's no way that ties are as bad as stockings.
"See those girls over there?"
Of course I see them. They're from the bride's side, and they're the prettiest girls our age in the room. And they're staring right at us. So yeah, I see them. And I kind of don't like the way they're looking over here and then whispering. I wonder if they're talking about me. I look down at my dark purple, modest, plain-boring-Jane dress. They're showing skin, at the neck and the knees, and I know my Dad would never let me out of the house like that. Especially not to a public event like this one. To the beach, maybe.
"Yeah, what about them?"
"Well that blonde one asked me to dance."
Now I'm kind of mad, and I'm not sure why. Just that Goldilocks seems pretty brave, and too bold for her own good.
"Well, are you gonna?" I ask, looking back into petrified green eyes.
"What?! No way!" He looks like I just asked him if he wanted to be exposed to the norovirus. I smile.
"She's…" I can tell he's trying to phrase this properly. He has this thing where he chews on the inside of his cheeks when he's thinking too hard. "She's just weird, and she keeps staring, and she won't leave me alone!"
My poor nerdtorious seems a nervous wreck.
"Tell her to fuck off."
"Shhhh!"
"Well?" I shrug.
"Ugh, I can't say that. And anyway, she's Rosie's little sister, so I can't," he whines.
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
He blushes and fidgets with his tie again. "Don't get mad, okay?"
Uh oh.
"What? What did you do?"
He clears his throat and looks at his shiny black shoes. "I kind of, um, told-them-you-were-my-girlfriend."
He says the words so fast it takes me a minute to really hear them. Then I just start laughing.
He snaps his head up to look at me and his face is so red. "What? Why are you laughing?"
"Nothing, that's just really funny to me. Why'd you do that?"
"I don't know, I just didn't want to be mean, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt her feelings if I told her no for a reason. You know, other than that I'm not at all interested in dancing with her, like at all. So I told her I had a girlfriend. And she didn't even believe me. She said, 'who?!', so I said your name. I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, E."
"Really?"
"Yeah, sure. It's fine. Let's have some fun with them. Bet we can make her jealous!" I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him close. He smiles and gets a wicked look in his eye right before he kisses my cheek. I laugh again because it's weird, but kind of good. I feel warm all over and happy. We can play this game and mess with these girls and it will just be the two of us, which I always really like.
"Want to dance?" I whisper in his ear. "I bet she'll be so, so mad!"
He nods, and the next song is slow and a disco ball drops from the ceiling, sending sparkles of reflected light all over the room. He grabs my wrist again, but that's not what a boyfriend would do, so I pull loose and wrap my hand up in his, tangling our fingers together.
His palm is still slick and sweaty and warm, but it's kind of nice, actually. He looks at our hands and then up at me and smiles, and I like it, like, a lot. So I smile back.
We push past my drunk cousin Jasper and his trashy girlfriend Alice who are dancing dirty. Mom and Esme really don't like her, and I heard them say they can't believe he's acting like that about a girl. I check out her short, sparkly dress and even though it's too-tight, and too-small, and too-sexy, I like the way she looks, and I want to be pretty and desired like that too.
When we get to the middle of the floor, I forget about her long legs and tiny dress and remember that I'm playing a game with Edward. He stands there kind of awkwardly and I know how to do this, even if we've never done it together, so I put my hands up on his shoulders and wrap them around his neck. He wipes his hands on his suit pants and then puts them on my hips. I can instantly feel them, his heat seeping through the purple fabric.
"Sorry my hands are sweaty," he whispers.
"It's okay." Because it is.
He looks over my shoulder and smiles, then kind of dances me around in a circle so I can see, too. The blonde little girl, in her frilly pink dress, and her dark-haired friend dressed all in green are standing on the edge of the dance floor, and they're staring. I smile and am tempted to stick my tongue out at them when I see Mom catch sight of us over their shoulders.
"Ah, crap," I say.
"What?" Edward asks, still rotating us around, and around, rocking back and forth.
"Mom just saw us."
"Oh no," Edward actually pales a little, and sure enough, it's about 15 seconds before both my Mom and Esme are pushing through dancing couples to come ooh and aah and snap pictures of us.
"Go away, Mom!" I hiss.
"But baby you look so sweet with Edward! Let me just get a few more pictures!"
"Mooooooommmm," Edward groans, but he doesn't stop dancing with me, or take his hands from my hips.
"Oh my god, Renee, they're adorable!" Esme gushes. I blush. I mean, adorable isn't exactly what we're going for. The moment's ruined anyway, and blondie is no longer watching, and the lights come up a little and the DJ starts talking.
Edward and I break contact and our Moms wander off, giggling with each other about their cutie-pie kids.
The dance floor is clearing and the DJ says the bride is going to throw the bouquet, so I follow Edward off to the side where we were standing earlier. Near the chocolate fountain.
I see Rose's sister coming toward us, and so I grab Edward's elbow and tug him around. We weave through the adults, in and out of their tall bodies, till we get near the exit. I kind of huff-laugh and turn back around to talk to him.
"I think we lost them," I say, smiling. I hear squeals as a bunch of girls fight over some stupid flowers. Edward looks back over his shoulder then looks at me, smiling.
"Yeah, we totally did. Thanks, Bella."
"Sure," I answer, because really, it was fun, and there's not much I wouldn't do for Edward.
Then, she pops up again, stalking us like a psycho.
"Oh my God," he says when he sees her staring. "There she is again!"
And I don't care if she hears me when I say, "Let's get out of here and away from them, boyfriend."
Edward's eyes get almost as big as Rose's sister's. But I tug on his elbow and lead him out the doors of the reception hall and to the elevators.
"Oh, Mom and Renee are going to be so mad!" He laughs. We're both excited because we snuck out, and I stuck it to the little stalker girl.
I push the up arrow.
"We'll just ride the elevator up and then back down. Then I'll go in and tell them we want to go to the pool. Maybe they'll let us if we go together."
He scoffs, but agrees.
When the doors ding and open, our Dads get off, and they have unlit cigars in their hands. Dad tries to stuff his into his coat pocket, but he's totally busted.
"Where are you two going?" Carlisle asks.
Carlisle is the coolest dad, ever. He lets Edward do whatever he wants. It's crazy. My dad is so the opposite.
I change the subject before Edward answers.
"Dad, what is that?" I point straight at the half of the cigar sticking out of his pocket.
"It's nothing, Bella. Carlisle asked where you think you're going."
Well, he didn't say it like that, but whatever.
"We just want to ride the elevator up to the top. It's so fast."
He still looks at me as if I'm like, four, so of course he thinks I'd be impressed by an elevator. Carlisle kind of shakes his head and laughs, and Edward tugs on his tie again. I swear I'm going to rip it off him if he keeps it up; it's super annoying. I bet he's doing it since he can't pull on his slicked-down hair.
"Okay kids," Carlisle says, giving us permission before Dad can speak up again. "Just don't be gone too long."
I think they're going to go back to the party, but they turn and head for the front entrance of the hotel instead. That's when I think of it – I'm so brilliant. Carlisle will say yes.
"Hey Dad? Carlisle?"
They stop and turn around, and Dad embarrasses me by saying, "Yes, Gumdrop?" Oh. My. God. I bite my tongue to keep from whining about my since-I-was-two nickname and put on my best sugar-sweet begging face.
"Edward and I are sooooo bored in there. There's nothing for us to do," I fidget with my dress and look down at my black flat Mary Janes. "And well, we were wondering if we could maybe go to the pool instead? We'll stay together and be really careful, and you could come get us when the reception is over. We'll be so quiet and won't get in any trouble. Promise."
"Oooooh yeah!" Edward agrees. "That would be really fun, and we'll be careful, Mr. Swan."
Carlisle looks charmed. Dad looks confused. Maybe annoyed. His eyebrows are scrunched down together. Edward, I think, is holding his breath.
"I don't know Bella…"
Dad looks at Carlisle, who shrugs, then answers for both of them: "Sure kids, that's fine. Just be quiet."
"And careful," Dad adds and gives Edward this terrifying look.
I beam and run up to them, hugging Dad tight around the waist and gushing "thank you thank you thank you" before doing the same to Carlisle.
"I was seriously so bored, I thought I was gonna die," I tell the half-truth because before Edward and I danced, I was really bored.
"Yeah, me too," Edward chimes in, finally.
Okay, so both of them look completely charmed now. Before our luck changes, I grab Edward by the elbow again and tug him to the elevator.
"C'mon, E!"
Then I remember, and abruptly turn back around.
"Oh, Daddy?" I bat my eyes at him again. This might be tough.
"Yeah, Gumdrop? Want the keys to the car for a joyride, too, Princess?"
"No, Dad! Of course not! I'm not old enough to drive. Just to the rooms so we can go change."
His eyes get that puzzled look in them again while he pulls the card key out of his pocket and hands it over. He's real serious when he says, "You are not to let anyone – " his eyes dart to Edward " – and I mean anyone, into that room, understand? Go straight up, put on your suit, and go straight to the pool. I'll come by in a few minutes to make sure you do. Do you understand?"
I nod and kiss his cheek.
Carlisle puts the cigar in his mouth and gives Edward his key without a word. Then he looks at me and says, "Have fun, Sunshine."
I smile bright, answer "We will!", and drag Edward to the waiting elevator.
We get on and I press the button for 12, where our rooms are. He and his family are right down the hall from me and mine. When the doors slide closed, I squeal and jump up and down.
"Can you believe they went for that?!"
Edward is laughing and pulling on his tie. "Holy crap, I know! You are seriously devious, Gumdrop."
"Shut it." I thump his arm and push his hand down from the knot around his neck. "And stop fiddling with this, you're driving me crazy."
I pull down on it like I've seen my dad do every single night when he gets home, and sure enough, it slips loose just like his. Edward gives me his half-smile, my favorite, and we giggle all the way into the carpeted, quiet hallway.
I go to the room I'm sharing with my parents, and Edward goes to his. He watches to make sure I get all the way in, and when the door clicks closed, I get a little nervous.
Being an only kid, I'm by myself a lot. It's okay, but I really hate hotels. So I hurry over to the dresser and strip my clothes off, throwing all of them onto an armchair that probably ten thousand people have sat on. I open the bottom drawer and fish out my navy blue one piece that I wear to swim practice and tug it on. Then I grab a hair tie, a towel, and step into my flip-flops before bolting out the door.
I'm ready before even Edward is, and to be fair, his clothes do have more buttons. So I lean on the wall outside his room, fidgeting with the key.
He comes out and I can't help but smile. He is thin, like rail-thin, and pale, but he's kind of wiry and I know he's strong because we swim together all the time. He's shirtless and his hair is still slicked and combed over, except in the back where it's messed up from changing clothes. He's in a pair of navy swim trunks and we totally match. He's barefoot and holding one of the extra thick towels that he must've jacked from the pool earlier.
"Ew, are you going without shoes?"
"Yeah, so?"
"That's kinda nasty."
He shrugs and we start walking down the hall. I think he's looking over at me every now and then, but I'm not sure, so I just ignore it.
"So, why didn't you want to dance with that girl?" I finally ask as I push the down arrow to call the elevator.
"I don't know, Bella. I just didn't, I guess."
He's not looking at me, and he finally, finally rakes a hand through his hair and it's even more a mess than usual, going every which direction with the gel fighting hard to hold it down.
I giggle at him.
"What?"
"You kinda look like a cockatoo."
He starts laughing and tries to tame his hair. "Shut up," he chuckles.
The elevator doors open and we get on, and press L.
I can't help asking. I have to know. "So did you just not like her, or what? I mean, she was definitely pretty."
He looks kind of uncomfortable and I know he doesn't like to talk about girls. I should probably leave it alone, but I just can't.
"She was okay, I guess. But I didn't want to dance with her. Plus, come on Bella, all that creepy staring and following me around? Weirdo."
I laugh because yeah, he's right. And because I'm really glad I'm the only girl Edward is friends with. I didn't like the idea of him dancing with her, or even really talking to her. It's nice to be the only girl around him. I guess I'm not so good at sharing.
"You're right, that was weird. Hey, want to race our first lap?"
He lights up. "You're on, B. I'm going to smoke you."
We get to the pool and the glass at the door is all fogged over and inviting. I can't wait to get in. I open the door and it's dark, dimly lit inside and the back wall is all huge windows. The moon is really bright, and the water is almost glowing neon blue. It's so pretty.
We leave our towels and keys on a chair. There's no one else here, even though the pool doesn't close for another two hours. I think most of the guests are at the wedding reception, and the rest maybe just aren't nighttime swimmers. The only sound is the quiet slap of the water in the drains, and it just feels peaceful and calm. Not at all like what's going on across the lobby.
"This pool is so cool," Edward says, walking around and looking at where the indoor section goes under a little archway and connects to the outdoor pool.
"Don't get any ideas, it's crazy cold outside."
I kick off my flip-flops by the edge and see my chance. He's still checking out the pool, and Edward is a really fast swimmer, so I'll need every advantage.
"1-2-3 GO!" I shout, diving in and taking off with all my might. I hear a splash a second later and give it everything I've got. I sense him gaining on me, but I think I can do it.
My fingers touch concrete and I raise my head just in time to see him reach the wall after me.
"Aha! Victory is mine! I beat you, Cullen! FINALLY!" I'm hollering and doing a little happy dance when my Dad clears his throat.
"Isabella Marie Swan."
"Shit!" I say out loud, then smack both hands over my mouth.
He's standing over me in his suit, hands on his hips, and I can tell he's trying to decide what to yell at me for first. Carlisle's nowhere in sight, so I'm in for it.
"Watch your mouth, young lady. I didn't teach you to talk like that, and neither did your mother. And I distinctly remember when you begged me to let you come swim that you promised me to be quiet. I can hear you from outside in the lobby, Bella!"
"I'm sorry Dad, I just never beat Edward and - "
"I don't care. You know better than to yell like that inside."
"Sorry, Dad."
I know I'm moping, but I really don't see the big deal. I mean the reception is just across the lobby and they're probably playing the chicken dance song right now at ninety decibels. What's a little celebratory yelling? Clearly Dad doesn't see it that way, so I keep my trap shut this time.
"Where's the room key?"
Seems like that's all for the lecture portion of the evening, and I'm glad. But I'm also embarrassed because I hate getting in trouble in front of people, and it's especially embarrassing in front of Edward. Plus, he totally killed my victory buzz.
"It's on the towel over there." I point. He walks over and grabs it.
"Edward, I'm taking yours to Carlisle, too."
"Yes, sir," he answers. Then he adds, "Sorry about the yelling. I challenged Bella to race. It's my fault."
Oh, that liar.
"Well, see that you two keep quiet. People might be sleeping."
"Yes, sir," Edward says again.
Once Dad is gone, I'm kind of deflated about my win. I cheated anyway.
"Sorry about your Dad, Bella."
"It's okay. You didn't have to cover for me."
"It's all right," he says. "I owed you. I mean you saved me from a psycho-stalker tonight."
We're just standing in the water and looking at each other, and it gets awkward all of a sudden. I'm not sure why, so I splash him and laugh.
"Want to play Marco Polo?" I change the subject.
"Absolutely," he says, and gives me his smile.
XXX
"Lane four, Bella Swan. Lane five…"
I step up to the platform and stretch my arms. There's a lot of chatting going on here and there, parents and other teens with their swim teams. I've got my goggles in place, and I feel loose and ready to go. I crack my neck and take my mark.
I look up to poolside and see Edward. He stops talking to Jake long enough to catch my eye and give me a smile. The gun fires, and I take off.
I love swimming. It's competitive, and I'm a part of a team, but it's still solitary. It's fast, but it's not dangerous. It's exciting, but at the same time, I'm never calmer than when I'm in my lane, listening to the sounds of the water and the cheers and my own breathing. I kick, and kick, and pull myself through the water. I'm pretty fast, but I just don't have the upper body strength some of these girls do.
When I hit the end of my lane and check my time, I see that I came in second and that it was really close. I rip my goggles off and slap them onto the water's surface, cursing myself for not practicing a little harder, trying just a little more.
I stay for a while, cheering for the rest of my team and some of the guys' races, too. Edward wins everything, of course. Once the meet is winding down, I wrap up in a towel and head over to my parents. They're talking with our neighbors from up the street, so I just interrupt them long enough to say I'm going to drive home.
"Okay, baby," Mom runs her hand over my stringy, wet hair. "Dinner's in the fridge."
I head toward the parking lot, waving at my coach and teammates, when I hear Jake calling out for me. I stop and wait as he jogs to catch up.
Dude has got some serious muscle tone. His swim coach hates that he lifts. It slows him down and keeps him at second best. I wish that was my only roadblock.
"Hey Bella. Great race." He smiles at me, too wide and I blush a little, I'm sure.
"Thanks Jake. I'm really kicking myself. I think I could've had it if I'd just pushed a little more, you know?"
"Ah, you'll get it next time. You're really a great swimmer."
"Thanks."
I'm about to tell him goodnight and ditch the place when Edward walks up, too.
"Hey Jake, hey B." He reaches out to ruffle my hair, but I duck and slap his hand away.
"Stop it, Dorkasaurus."
He laughs. I try to give him a different insult every time I see him. He never gets tired of it, even though he hasn't been the slightest bit nerdy since middle school.
"Great race, Gumdrop."
Ugh, he's still sticking with that one. I roll my eyes.
"Thanks. Bye guys." I wave and head for the car. I'm exhausted, my legs are practically useless, and I'm starving. Edward and Jake chat for a second, then Edward jogs up after me, shirtless and barefoot, as usual. He's filled out a lot since we were kids, but he's still lean and wiry-strong. And there's no denying it, E is hot now. The girls all love him. But he doesn't pay any of them much attention. He's focused on getting a swim scholarship, he says. But I mean, come on, he's a teenage boy.
"Hey, Gumdrop, wait up."
"What's up, E?"
"Where you going?"
"Home. I'm starved, and Mom made tuna casserole."
"Yum," he says, his eyes widen, and his lips pout. "Bella, Mom's out of town this weekend, and so Dad and I have been eating nothing but frozen dinners since Thursday."
"Yeah, and?" I turn and keep walking to my beat-up little car. He follows me.
"And well, I was wondering if you'd share your dinner with me, cause I'm wasting away over here."
"Liar."
"No really. Please? I'm starving and I can't stand the thought of another Hungry Man thingy."
I stop and look at him. He knew the whole time I'd say yes, just like I did. I've never told him no. Never.
"All right, come on."
"Sweet! Let me go grab my stuff."
I wait for Edward in the car with the radio on and the windows down. My little white Honda isn't anything special, but she runs and she's a car, so I freaking love her.
He slides all six-foot-two of his long and lean into my car, still bare-chested and smiling.
"Let's go," he says.
I drive us home and try not to stare when he slips on a plain black t-shirt, or when he runs both of his hands through his wild hair.
When we pull up to my house, it's unlit and ominous. I pull the handle on the emergency brake and start to gather up my stuff, but Edward beats me to it, grabbing my bag and his and getting out first. I sigh, climb out, and slam the door.
We go inside and while I run upstairs to change, Edward starts raiding our fridge.
I take the stairs two at a time, even though my legs are killing me. When I get to my room, I hit the switch that turns on the strand of white Christmas lights that decorate my headboard and drop my towel. I am three-quarters of the way wriggled out of my suit when I hear it.
"Oh shit!" Then a cup crashing to the floor. I whip around and he's there, in the doorway, frozen and staring.
"Jesus Edward!" I screech and cover my totally exposed boobs. I mean, they're not much, but they're naked. He covers his eyes and turns around.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Bella! I was just…oh shit!" Then he starts laughing. Like, hysterically.
My face gets hot because I can guess why he's laughing. I'm completely mortified and now, I'm mad.
I march over to him and shove him in the back. "Get out, you prick."
He's gasping for air. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!"
I finally succeed in getting him out the door without him catching another peek. I want to scream but more than that, I want to cry. I'm so, so embarrassed.
I pull myself together and dress in one of my dad's old college tees and a pair of sleep shorts. When I head downstairs, Edward's on the couch with two plates of steaming casserole on the coffee table.
"You're a jerk and this doesn't make up for it," I say.
"I'm really sorry, Bella. I totally didn't mean to walk in on you like that. But girl, you should close your door when you're changing."
"You shouldn't wander around other people's houses."
"Oh come on. I've been wandering around this house since I was like four."
I give him that one, and then the smell of the food hits me and my stomach growls. Loudly. As if I needed more of my body to embarrass me tonight.
"Eat, Bella."
And we do.
Edward turns on the TV and flips to MTV. We watch reality shows and listen to people scream at each other. We crack jokes and make each other laugh through mouthfuls of food. We leave dirty dishes on the table and get comfortable. I curl up on my side of the couch, and Edward stretches out on his.
The next thing I know, my Mom is whispering loudly to my Dad. "Charlie! Leave them alone, they're exhausted!"
Dad's grumbling something and walking too loudly through the room. I smell one of my favorite smells – warm sugar-sweet cinnamon. My face is pressed into something warm and soft and black. And moving.
I lift my head and try to pry my eyes all the way open. I swear I feel like they're superglued shut, until they catch a glimpse of crazy untamable hair. Then they're wide and panicked, my heart flipping and kicking into overdrive at our proximity. I sit up quickly, but not fast enough. Edward rubs his eyes and opens them just in time to catch me.
"What happened?" he asks, sitting up and scooting to his side.
"Nothing, nothing," I say, wrapping myself in the blanket from the back of the couch.
"You kids looked so cute. Just worn slap out!" Renee is beaming at us from the doorway.
"Ugh, stop Mom," I groan. The TV is still on, but it's on a different show now. I don't have any idea what time it is, but it feels really late. Edward stretches and I can't help it, I stare. I've never seen stretching look so sexy.
This night has been all kinds of awkward, but he's smiling-confident and at ease when his eyes meet mine.
"Thanks for dinner Bella," he says, then whispers, "and the peep show."
I slap his shoulder and my smile is back too because this is Edward, and things could never be too weird between us.
"Shhh!"
He laughs and stands up, unfolding himself and yawning. "God, that was a great nap."
"Yeah, I passed out. Sorry if I drooled on you," I stand up and stretch too. My muscles are still tired and my eyes beg me to go back to sleep.
"Nah," he says, grabbing his things. "Can you give me a ride to the house?"
"Sure," I say, picking up our plates and heading to the kitchen. I tell Mom where I'm going and that I'll be back in a few minutes, and Edward and I head back outside.
The ride to his house is short and quiet. He's on his phone, the little screen lighting up his face in my peripheral vision. I want to talk to him, but I don't know what to say.
"So, do you know Tanya Denali?" he asks me suddenly.
"Um, yeah. I mean, I know who she is."
"She asked me out just now. On a text message." He holds up the little screen to me at a stop sign, and sure enough, I read, want to go out w me fri?
Ugh, I never thought much about her before, but I really hate her now. I can't believe I actually feel jealous of Edward. I mean, we've always been close, best friends, really. And I've felt possessive, petty, and protective, but this is new. Who does she think she is? He's mine.
I push it down, bite it back and ask, "You going?"
"Hell no," he says, smiling. "What kind of desperate loser texts a guy to ask him out?"
I don't say anything.
"Shit, you didn't text somebody or something, did you B?"
That makes me laugh.
"No, of course not!"
He laughs too. "Good. I was kinda worried I'd just insulted you accidentally."
It gets quiet again as I make the turn onto his street.
"Thanks for the ride, Gumdrop. And the food. And the nap. I won't say anything else," he teases, and I blush. Stupid, stupid blush.
"Sure, E, no problem. I'd say any time, but I'm afraid that would obligate me to show you my tits on the regular."
He half laughs and his eyes dart to my chest. I can't tell if he's blushing, but I am, and it feels too hot in the little car. I turn the A/C up a notch and turn into his driveway. Carlisle's BMW is in the front, blocking in Edward's Volvo. Esme must've taken the Cadillac.
"See you tomorrow?" Edward asks.
"Yep," I say, "Tomorrow."
He doesn't pull the handle, or step out of the car, or even reach for his bag though. He just sits there, looking at me. And it's different. And it's strange. And I like it.
"What?" I ask. I hope he's not picturing my ridiculous screaming fit, or me topless. Then again, I kind of do.
"Nothing. Just, I'm glad we're friends, Bella."
He smiles and I smile, and add, "Me too."
And even though I'm blushing and uncomfortable, this is Edward, and he will always be mine. In some way or another, I'll always have a piece of him. And it fills me up inside and my chest feels better, expanded, bigger. Like he makes me more, just by being a part of my life.
He leans across the cramped space and kisses my cheek, and it's not even awkward. I smile up at him and feel it all, everything. But mostly, I feel happy.
XXX
I didn't know it was physically possible to be this nervous. At least not without having some kind of breakdown. Mom is hovering, floating in and out of my new room. The door is propped open and there are two fans running to combat the late summer heat and humidity. She walks in, her faded denim hanging loosely on her thin frame, her lightweight button-down fluttering as she moves here and there, straightening, hanging, arranging.
Watching her makes everything worse, everything more real.
"Mom," I say. She doesn't hear, or chooses not to. I look out the wide open window. At least I'm on the ground floor. Dad's outside, across the sidewalk, leaning against the front of our car, smoking a cigarette. He looks sad, and I feel tears start to build. They start in the back of my throat, but I know what's going to happen, and I can't let it.
"Mom!" I say, louder.
She stops what she's doing and looks over to me.
"What baby?"
"Can you just, leave this? I can do it tomorrow."
She looks a little sad, and I realize she was probably keeping busy to avoid thinking about the fact that I don't live in her house any longer, and I probably never will again.
"Sure thing, sweetie." She sets down a picture frame that holds a photo of the three of us last Christmas, and I immediately feel guilty.
"It's just that, I'm kind of worried about Dad," I lie. "We should go check on him. And maybe go grab some dinner?"
She smiles, and nods, and wraps an arm around my shoulder to lead me out.
Dad straightens and drops his bad habit when he sees us coming. He thinks he's sneaky, but Mom and I know. We share a glance and roll our eyes.
"There are my two favorite girls." He says it like it's the truest thing in the world.
"Hey Dad." He wraps his arm around my shoulders too, on the other side of Mom, and I'm in the middle of a Swan-sandwich. I smile, and it's bittersweet because how many more of these will we make?
"Bella thought we might want to get dinner," Mom tells Dad.
"Of course, I bet you girls are getting hungry. Well, what's nearby?"
"There are a few restaurants up the hill," I say, pointing to the little row of diners that are nestled at the corner of campus.
"Sounds good," Dad says and starts leading us that way. We only make it a few steps before it's too hard to walk sandwich-style, so we drop arms and stroll forward, all of us quiet and lost in our thoughts.
Mom is the first to speak, of course.
"Bella, if you need anything, you know we're only a few hours away."
"I know, Mom."
"Will you come home next weekend?"
"Probably, yeah. I think so."
"Okay, good. Bring your laundry so you don't have to use the laundromat."
"Okay, Mom."
I smile. She doesn't.
We walk up to the first restaurant and Dad holds open the door for us. It smells like fried food and everything is wooden – wood paneling on the walls, wood tables, wood chairs, wood counters. The carpet is puke green and the curtains are dingy white. It is exactly what I want in a college café.
There's a handwritten sign propped up near the door that says "Please seat yourselves" and so we take a booth in the corner, near the window. There are four menus on the table already, and I slide the extra one under the salt and pepper shakers, ketchup, and napkin holder.
A young waitress comes up to us, her uncombed hair knotted into a bun on the top of her head. She's wearing baggy clothes and a loose-tied apron, and she is makeupless and a little hunched, but it doesn't hide that she's gorgeous.
"Hi." She smiles. "I'm Angela. What can I get y'all to drink?"
"Hi Angela," Mom says, "I'd like a water."
Dad just says, "Me too."
I look behind her at the fountain drinks peeking over the counter and choose. "Diet Dr. Pepper?"
"Sure thing," Angela says and walks away.
Mom and Dad are looking at the menu. Dad is supposed to eat low cholesterol, and Mom is trying to lose weight even though she's already thin, so I'm not sure what they're going to pick. I scan the front page and pick my meal instantly.
I stare out the window to kill time, trying to figure out how my life is going to change now that this is my new home.
Then I see a familiar hat, and sunglasses, and hoodie, walking between auburn and blond hair that I recognize. It's the Cullens.
"I see Edward," I say to Mom and Dad, who turn in their seats to look where I'm looking. The three of them, our neighbors and friends, look more like a walking magazine ad than the people who live up the street. I think about skinny Edward, barefoot in navy swim trunks, begging me to pretend to be his girlfriend. That helps.
So I knock on the window and smile. Esme lights up when she spots me and points me out to her boys. She waves, and leads them in.
"Should we ask them to join us?" I look expectantly at my parents.
"Of course," Mom says.
She stands up and hugs Esme as they come in, and Carlisle and Dad shake hands. Edward and I wave and share a smile.
"What's up, Duke of the Dorksquad?"
He crosses his arms. Then leans in to whisper, "Can we call a truce for college?" And I'm hit with his scent, and it's so good, and he's not a dork, and he knows it, and I don't think me calling him one actually bothers him, but I would agree to anything with that warm-smelling goodness wafting around me. So I nod.
"Let's move to this table where we can all sit," Mom suggests, and we split up like usual. Mom and Esme, Dad and Carlisle, me and Edward. This is how it's been since we were toddlers, and it makes me sad, but at the same time, it's comfortable.
And it's reassuring, calming, knowing that Edward will be here, too.
"How's your room?" He asks, plucking off his sunglasses and turning his ball cap backwards. He looks like the little boy I know so well, but he's grown, too. It's obvious in his hands, and around his eyes.
"It's nice, actually, not bad. What about you?"
"It's gross. Like, actually filthy. Mom nearly had a heart attack."
We laugh together, and I feel better.
"What about your roommate?" I ask, wondering who got the luck of that draw.
"Seems nice enough," Edward shrugs. Guys don't seems as concerned about this as girls. "His name's Felix. He's huge. Plays on the baseball team. Catcher, I think he said."
"Oooh, we should go to some games."
"Yeah, we should," he smiles at me, his full lips curl upward, and I can't keep from staring. The memory of them on my cheek tugs at the edges of my mind, and I try not to imagine how they'd feel against my own lips, how they'd taste, but I am unsuccessful.
Thankfully Angela comes back and takes our orders. Edward and I both go for the patty melt. Mom gets a house salad, no dressing. Esme eats a turkey sandwich. Dad gets a plain chicken breast with a salad, and Carlisle orders a burger and fries.
We talk, and laugh, and our Moms avoid the subject at hand – that we are leaving them, that their babies are all grown up.
The food is good, and Esme embarrasses me and Edward by asking Angela if she's a student, if she would show us around, and grilling her about going to college here. She's polite, and closes the conversation by asking if anyone wants dessert.
We all say no, and she brings the bill, giving me a sympathetic smile. I smile back, and hope I found a new friend.
XXX
It's late, so late. And I'm drunk.
So drunk.
Edward has had a few but he's always had more self-control than me. His eyes are blurred, but not blinded. He leads me back to my dorm, his warm palm resting on the small of my back.
I try to walk straight, but it's hard, so I bump into him a few times.
"Sorry," I mutter.
"It's okay."
"Are we almost there?" I look around and try to figure out exactly where we are, which would be easier if the streets would stay still.
"Yeah, almost."
His voice is soft, warm, familiar, and suddenly I'm so homesick I nearly fall down. My eyes tear up and even though I hate crying and can usually stop the tears, one too many shots with Felix sets them free.
"Shit, Bella, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just miss home," I choke out.
Edward kind of laughs and wraps an arm around me.
"Don't tell anybody," he whispers, his cinnamon-flavored breath tickling my neck, "But so do I."
I laugh. Because it tickles, and feels good, and smells good. And because come on, Edward, King of Campus, just told me he's homesick, too.
"Really?" I ask, meeting his green eyes. "But you love it here. And everybody adores you. And I'm the only one who even knows what a Dweebie McDweebster you are."
He snorts. "Forget about that truce, Swan? But no, not everybody loves me. Even if they did, I miss how things used to be sometimes. Simpler, I guess."
He shrugs, and I can feel how much stronger he's gotten since last time I touched him like this – since that accidental nap on my couch a few years ago.
I smile at the memory, and we're in front of my building. We stop under the street light, and I turn to thank him. But he's looking at me funny. Different. Vulnerable and needy.
"Bella," he says, a breath, just a sigh.
My heart pump-beats faster at our proximity. It begs and pulls, pushing against my chest, pressing me toward its wanna-be home with every pulse.
And I don't know if it's the alcohol, or the homesickness, or just him, but I grab his hand and pull him into me so all of my front is pressed to all of his. I tilt my head up to look at him, to meet his eyes with mine, and I am suddenly, overwhelmingly sober.
But I'm still smiling.
His eyes are soft, soulful, and so-tender, and it's all the encouragement I need to lean forward and tilt-tiptoes-up to press my lips to his.
We've kissed a hundred times over the years. Never on the lips, and never like this. It sets me on fire. It's electric, from where our hands touch, to where our lips touch, right to the center of me.
I shiver, and he pulls me closer. He lifts his free hand to my cheek, tilts his head, and opens his mouth to me. My knees nearly buckle but I press closer to him, opening in return, sliding my tongue forward until it touches his.
His tongue – it's heaven. Hot and wet and perfect, moving against mine, and yeah, I've kissed boys before, but this is Edward, and I don't even have to think. Couldn't if I wanted to. Just feel.
We're pushing and pulling, moving and pressing, and before I think or realize my hands are under his shirt, sliding up and over his back. It's uncharted territory, and I've never felt such perfection – my fingertips move all over, trying to feel more, get more, memorize. They grip onto the muscles that cover his shoulder blades and pull. I don't even ask them to, they just do.
And my chest, of its own accord, seeks his, and pushes against it. He mmmms into my mouth and the vibration is addicting, so I give it back with a small noise of my own, all breathless contentment and excitement.
His warm palm slides down from my cheek, and I feel slick-sweaty fingertips curl over my neck, leading and tilting and guiding, while his other hand glides up my side, over my ribs, stopping just short of the underside of my bra. And when did his hands get so big? He covers me from hipbone to ribcage.
He pulls away, but tilts his head forward, pulls my body to his, and whispers warm words into the curve of my neck.
"Bella, Bella, Bella," he says.
"Edward?" I whisper, suddenly afraid of what this means. My heart is racing because he's near me, but it sinks and threatens to stop at the thought of his rejection.
"What am I doing?" he sighs, soft. My body begs me to lock down, to protect myself and my heart, to build a wall now, now before he fires his first heart-stopping missile. But I can't, because he's touching me.
So I lean further into him, and I welcome the first blow.
"You're kissing me, Edward."
"If I keep kissing you," he pauses but does not remove his warmth from my skin. "I won't stop," he finishes.
"I don't want you to."
I tilt my head back, my eyes finding the light from the lamppost, my mind counting the moths that circle it and the moments that pass.
"You're drunk."
I shake my head and answer, "Not that drunk." Then I slide my hands down to wrap around him at the waist, to try to get even closer.
"Bella, this will change everything." His voice is serious, ominous. "And I can't lose you." Final.
He pulls back and rests his hands on my hips, putting space between us to look at me. I put my arms up, linking my fingers around the back of his neck, like I did when we were kids. And I can see Edward, young and smiling, hair-gelled and suit-clad. The sight, the remembrance, makes all my fear go away.
"You couldn't possibly."
I pull him down, press my lips to his again, and promise.
It's pleading permission, and he hears it, sees it, feels it in me. The need for him has always been there, but this desire has been slow building, a flicker to flame to full-fledged fire. And it's burning us both now. I can see it in his eyes.
He dips down, bending his knees and taking my shoulders in his hands, holding so tight. We are eye level and alone, and his voice is low and serious.
"Bella, promise me."
I don't even hesitate, just meet his stare with a heart full of conviction, full of love, and promise again: "Never."
And it's all he needs because in the next instant his mouth is on mine, all fire and passion. I melt into the kiss, into the lips I've only ever dreamed of kissing this way. It's so much better than I imagined.
His hands slide up and over until one is tangled in my hair and one is pressed firm, low on my back. He twists and tugs and the pull on my scalp lights every nerve, sparking new life to skin I didn't even know had been dead.
"Oh my god," I say, pulling back and lifting my hand to his face. My heart is pounding and my vision is blurred and I pray this isn't a dream. "Edward, come inside?"
This time there is no pause, no seeking reassurance, no uncertainness in him. He grabs my hand and tugs, leading me down dimly-lit tiled hallways to my doorway.
While I reach forward to unlock the door, he presses his solid chest into my back and tucks my hair to one side. His lips meet the skin on the back of my neck, just above my spine, nestling between vertebrae. I shudder, sensitive and overheated already, basking in the way his kiss tightens my nipples, jolts me to my core.
I push open the door and we stumble inside. I drop my keys to the floor, then my jacket, closing my eyes against the onslaught of my emotions.
Edward. My best friend, my love, the constant in my life. The height and breadth and depth of our relationship lays itself out behind closed lids, spanning years and milestones and miniscule moments, coiling in to this room, to this place, to this choice. It's beautiful, and I can't believe it took us this long.
We tangle together again, caught up and electrified by each other's touch. He slips his palm under cotton and over skin, touching me in ways that should make me blush but only make me want him more. He teases my lips with his tongue and the tingling warmth that is so distinctly his.
"Bella," he says, pulling back to look at my face. "You have to know I love you. I can't...I tried to hold it back for so long because it just never seemed right, risking what we have."
His eyes darken, and he pushes closer to me, drawing me in and locking me in place.
"But I want more."
His voice is low, love, dark silk pouring out and slipping over my face, cooling and comforting every part of me.
"Please," I answer.
His is full of conviction and so earnest. "I want it all, Bella. Everything."
My tone mirrors and amplifies his own. "Have it."
His palm glides over the side of my face, smoothing my hair back. He leads me, lips together and locked in loving, to my little bed in the corner of the room.
I strip off all but the thin layers of cotton that guard my most precious places. There's a moment, a flare of uncertainty because I know he has had girls, other girls with different bodies and skin and they're better than me, I know they are.
"You're beautiful."
It's like he knows, and maybe he does. He has always been able to give me exactly what I need, so maybe he senses my inexperience and self-consciousness. Or maybe, maybe he just means it.
I hold out a hand, a silent invitation, needing him near. I smile, remembering who he is, my Edward, letting that make me bold, trusting all I am to him, knowing he wouldn't, couldn't let me down.
He tugs his white t-shirt over his head before moving over me and I am too stupid, too crazy-deep in long-built love to feel afraid anymore.
"Let me love you, Bella." His words are a breath, a prayer, and I reach a tentative hand to touch the warmth of his skin.
He presses himself closer, coarse denim a shocking contrast to the tender skin of my inner thighs. I let my instincts guide me, my feet hooking themselves behind him to draw him closer.
I lock my eyes on his and stop.
"If you don't fuck me, Edward Cullen…" I punctuate my threat by tightening my knees. "I will never, ever forgive you."
He smiles, then crushes his mouth to mine.
XXX
The room is dim, lit golden-pink by candlelight. There's music playing, a slow song that soothes and whispers. There are hushed conversations, but as far as I'm concerned, there's only one other person in this room.
And he's my best friend.
His hair is gel-slicked and styled, and he's wearing a black suit with a skinny black tie. His face is as angular and beautiful as always, and he moves like running water, smooth and cool and comfortable, and taking me with him.
"Thank you for dancing with me, Bella."
I smile up at him, shifting to stay close. "You're welcome, Edward. You know I'd do anything for you."
"I do."
I blush at his words, at the way he's always been able to warm me from the inside out.
"You look so beautiful," he says, a whisper meant only for me.
"Thank you." I touch my fingertips to the sequined bodice and notice how the light makes me sparkle.
"Edward, when did you know that you wanted to marry me?"
He spins me around and pulls me close, covering the side of my face and neck with his breath and whispered words. "Remember the nap?"
I smile, and nod.
"That was when. When I woke up with you in my arms. I knew I wanted you forever."
"It had nothing to do with the fact that you'd seen me topless a few minutes before?" I raise an eyebrow at him and he grins.
"That didn't hurt. When did you know?"
I hum and squeeze the hand that holds mine. "I've always known I was yours. Hopelessly, endlessly."
"Cop out."
He pulls me close, and his cinnamon sweetness wraps me up.
"Then our first dance. When you put your sweaty hands on my hips. I knew it then. Or when you took up for me. Or when you shared your last slice of birthday cake. Or it was the year that you got me tickets to go to a Broadway show for my birthday and went with me, even though you hate musicals. It's been a thousand little moments of knowing, Edward. And I can't wait for a thousand more."
My other half spins me around the floor until I'm breathless, sneaking kisses and whispering love-filled promises into the dark. He doesn't share me, even when his Dad asks to cut in. His hands are on me always, reassuring and strong when we're the center of attention. And when the party is wrapping up, and our goodbyes are said, and we're climbing into the car to leave and start a life together, I grab his tie and tug it down. I tangle my fingers into his sticky-stiff hair. And I kiss his handsome cheek.
"I've always known you were only mine, Dorksauce."
He laughs, out loud and from his belly, and I think - this is the way to start things.
"Come on, Gumdrop. Let's go home."
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