Title: Cravings
Rating: T
Subject: AH/AU, Bella & Edward
Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and its characters are property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing in her dollhouse.
I hate PMS.
I hate PMS cravings, usually because it's something different every day for two weeks out of the month.
Some nights it's chips and salsa, a leftover staple from years of living in Phoenix with my mother Renee. Other nights it's dark chocolate, organic, of course, from Whole Foods. Charlie couldn't understand my monthly trips to Seattle with a cooler in the back of my truck. Of course, I usually went to more than just Whole Foods when I drove up there. But he doesn't bother me anymore about it, especially since I dragged him along a few months back. Instead of heading home toward the ferry to Port Townsend, I drove south on I-5 toward Olympia.
"Taking the scenic route today, Bells?" he'd asked.
"Actually, it's a little surprise for you," I replied.
"Bella, you know I hate surprises, even more than you do," he groaned.
"Trust me, dad, you'll like this one." He still wasn't crazy about being in the passenger seat; years of law enforcement experience and bachelorhood meant he rarely rode shotgun, but he didn't complain about my driving. Really, I drove better than most people my age, and he taught me himself, so he sat quietly in his seat and focused on the road ahead.
"Some other 'organic' market in Olympia you're itching to try?"
I laughed. "No, Dad, nothing like that."
I watched the signs for the Marvin Road exit, and stayed in the right lane of traffic so I wouldn't miss it.
"Stopping in Lacey? Need some gas for the truck?" Charlie asked.
I didn't answer immediately, but turned right, and then left. "Look ahead, Dad."
There, in all its glory, was Cabela's. Oh sure, Forks had a small, family-owned sporting goods store, where Charlie usually bought most of his fishing equipment, but he'd never been to a store like Cabela's. It was like the Costco of outdoor stores. I stopped the truck in a parking space three rows down from the main entrance. Charlie's mouth hung open like those fish he loved to catch. "Bells, I…."
"It's ok, Dad, just go on in. I've got my cell phone on, so just call me when you're ready to leave."
Charlie never complained about my trips to Whole Foods anymore after that. I think he and his best friend Billy Black snuck off to Cabela's occasionally, though he still bought lures from Newton's; keeping up community relations, that sort of thing. But I did notice new things around the house sometimes. A vest here, some boots there, a new tackle box last month. Yeah, he could care less what I did at Whole Foods anymore.
I rummaged around the refrigerator, trying to stave off this month's cravings. I had tried hormonal birth control when I started Peninsula College two years ago, just in case, and it did keep my cycle predictable, but the mood swings and water retention were too much. It's not like I dated much, anyway, and my doctor offered a diaphragm instead. My girlfriend Alice became hysterical, arguing that it took away the spontaneity, but I knew myself and my body, and I wasn't the kind of girl that jumped in the sack with just anyone. It had to be someone who appreciated me, who wasn't just looking for a quick fix, and someone I could talk to about precautions ahead of time.
So here I was on a Sunday evening, with a craving for ice cream, in Forks, Washington, a town of just over 3,000 people. It's not like there's a Baskin-Robbins or Marble Slab on every corner. I had some juice pops in Charlie's freezer, but they just weren't appealing tonight. Port Angeles had a great family-owned ice cream parlor that was open on Sunday evenings, but I just couldn't justify going driving all the way there and back home when I would have to turn around and drive back there for class in the morning.
Could I?
No, I couldn't. But they have that great cookie dough ice cream sundae that you love so much, my subconscious argued, playing ping-pong with my rational brain for a couple of minutes. Charlie was on duty at the station tonight, so he wouldn't be home for hours. I sighed, picking up my keys, cell phone, and wallet. At least the days were longer with the advent of spring, and since most of the continental U.S. was on daylight savings time, it was still light out when I cranked up the engine on the old truck. It hadn't rained all day, though a faint mist hung in the cool evening air.
I drove the familiar road between Forks and Port Angeles, as the muted evening streaks of light glistened through the firs and pines. The cloud cover was thinning in the west, and the soft oranges of the setting sun danced across my cracked windshield. My truck knew its way to Port Angeles, and I nearly found myself at the school campus, making a turn at the last minute toward downtown and the ice cream shop.
What the…there's no parking! I groaned inwardly. Great. The entire lot in front of the store was littered with teenagers in compacts and SUV's and their moms' minivans. I picked a helluva night for an ice cream fix. At least the lines inside weren't too long – it looked like most of the patrons there already had their orders.
The door of the truck creaked as I opened it, and I plucked my cell phone and wallet from my seat next to me and kicked my Chuck-covered feet to the ground. My best friend Alice was forever trying to get me in heels and wedges, but I always managed to avoid them except for dress-up occasions. Never mind that they added much-needed height to my five-foot four-inch frame, but I preferred comfort, and besides, Chucks came in a kaleidoscope of colors, so I could usually find a pair to match an outfit. Today it was gray ones, matching the gray floral t-shirt and my favorite spring capris – black and skinny-fit. Since it was still cool outside (the downside of spring on the Olympic peninsula), I had topped it off with the Muse hoodie I bought at their concert last year in Portland. I was lost in a daydream about my favorite band, humming "Starlight" to myself as I shut the truck door and started toward the ice cream shop, which is probably why I didn't see the motorcycle barreling toward me…
A warm, strong hand grabbed my right arm and jerked me out the way just in time. I lost my balance and another warm hand grasped my left arm, holding me steady.
"You need to watch where you're going," the voice behind me growled.
Warm, tingly breath on in my ear, the faint scent of…was that 'Obsession?' The voice sounded angry – with me? "I, uh...damn...where did that guy come from? I never saw him," I fumbled.
"Yeah, and obviously he didn't see you," he replied, slackening his hold on my arms but not quite releasing me. "You that desperate for a sugar fix?"
Laughing. I was laughing – oh crap, he'll think I'm laughing at him. I regained my footing and turned to put a face with the voice and hands, composing myself.
Green and bronze. Pale skin. A bit of stubble on the jaw. Hair in artful disarray, wispy sideburns not quite reaching his earlobe...
"So are you just going to stand there all wide-eyed all night?" he asked, shaking me from my reverie.
What's my name? Where am I? I couldn't see past the attractive guy in front of me, nor think my way out of a paper bag at this point.
"Well?" he persisted.
The sound of a car backfiring shook me from my daze. "I'm…I'm sorry," I started. "Where did you come from?"
"My mother's womb, last time I checked," he chortled, still holding me by the upper arms.
"Oh, um…right," I laughed. "I guess we all did." Why couldn't I say anything intelligent in front of this guy?
"Hey, Edward – who's the chick?" a voice bellowed from across the parking lot.
"If I find out, you'll be the first – no, make that the last – to know," he yelled back.
"Edward," I said, trying his name out. See, I can speak coherently, right?
"That's me… and you are?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, uh, Swan, Bella Swan."
"Is that anything like Bosley, John Bosley?"
"Huh?"
"Sorry – inside joke. My brother loves re-runs of Charlie's Angels – makes me watch them all the time."
"Right – I think that was before my time," I snickered.
He released my arms, grasping my right hand in his. "Edward Cullen."
"Nice to meet you, and thanks for pulling me out of the way." I wasn't sure what to do next, did I head inside and place my order, or should I be polite and invite him in with me? I couldn't see what a guy that like would want with me, but I couldn't just walk away after he'd practically saved my life. "So, I was going to go inside and order – wanna come?
He raised an eyebrow with a glint in his green eyes. "Always," he chuckled. No, tell me I didn't just make a dirty joke, I thought, blushing. "Tell you what, I gotta go talk to my brother and I'll meet you inside. Think you can get there in one piece?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure I can make it," I responded. "So I'll see you inside?"
"Yeah, just give me a couple of minutes."
"Okay." Did this guy, who could model for Abercrombie & Fitch, just agree to come have ice cream with me? I crossed the parking lot, swung the door open, and marched up to the counter, feeling lighter and happier than I had all week. As I gave the pimply-faced kid my order, I felt a warm breath on the back of my neck.
"Hello again, Swan, Bella Swan," he breathed, sending goosebumps down my arm and a tingle through my scalp. "Whatcha ordering?"
You, with hot fudge and a cherry on top,, I smiled to myself. "Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Sundae, why? You want one?"
"Cookie dough, such a chick flavor…but sure, I'm game." The clerk totaled the order and before I could pull my wallet out, he handed him a twenty-dollar bill. "I got this," he asserted, taking the change and stuffing in the pocket of his jeans, balancing the tray on his free hand. "Shall we?" he asked, offering me his arm and jerking his head toward an empty booth.
"S-s-s-sure," I stammered. "Thank you, you know, for the ice cream, and for saving my life."
"Trouble magnet, huh?"
"Well, not usually, but I don't have the greatest sense of balance. I've been in the emergency room once or twice."
"More than once or twice, I bet."
"Okay, maybe more than once or twice," I relented.
"Right. So what do you do, Swan, Bella Swan?"
"Just Bella, please," I groaned.
"Oh come on, it suits you, 'Swan, Bella Swan,'" he laughed.
Oh God, I'm never going to live this down. "I'm just finishing my sophomore year at PC, then heading up to U-Dub next fall. What about you?"
"Graduated from U-Dub last summer, working two jobs at the moment."
"Doing what?"
"Well, I majored in music, but can't really make a living at it, so I teach private piano and music seminars part-time at PC."
"And your other job?" See Bella, you can talk to a good-looking guy?"
He shrugged. "I fly."
It was my turn to laugh again. "Fly? Like Superman?" I giggled.
He grinned. "Not exactly. I have a pilot's license, and I fly a jet for a couple of shipping executives."
My interest was piqued now. "Really? Where do you fly?"
"Oh, mostly between PA and L.A., sometimes Portland, San Francisco. I've taken them to New York and the east coast a few times, and a couple of times to Grand Cayman over the summer, with their wives & kids, once to Hawaii, and a couple of trips to Nova Scotia."
"Is it your plane or do you fly someone else's?"
"The company owns the plane, I just fly it for them as needed. They have a backup pilot if they need to fly when I'm scheduled to teach."
"My dad took flying lessons when he was younger, but then my mom got pregnant with me, and his parents pressured him to find something more stable. They weren't exactly happy with law enforcement, but he argued about the health insurance and retirement plan, and that shut them up. Besides, Forks is pretty quiet, not nearly as dangerous as being on the force in a big city."
"Your old man's a cop?"
"Twenty years next month. They're having a party for him and everything."
"Guess I better stay on his good side!" he retorted.
Wait, did that mean he was thinking about seeing me again? Attempting to maintain neutral expression, I continued. "What about your family?"
"My dad's the E.R. chief here at Olympic Medical Center."
"Dr. Cullen?" I gasped.
"You've met?"
"Yeah, I tripped on the stairs on my way to the writing lab one day on campus. My best friend drove me to the E.R., and Dr. Cullen treated my ankle. I didn't know he had a son."
"Yeah, two of them," he smirked. "That was my older brother in the parking lot earlier."
"Oh, I'm sorry – I didn't mean to drag you away from him."
"Trust me, I'm exactly where I want to be," he replied, gazing at my eyes.
Oh. My. That look – so intense.
"So, do you live in Forks or here on campus?"
"I live with my dad right now – just drove up to feed my sugar craving tonight."
"Are you heading back to Forks when you leave here?"
Only if you're going with me…
"Uh, well, yes, I was planning on it – I have to be back for class tomorrow, though."
"What are you majoring in?"
"I started out as a business major but had such an awesome teacher for freshman comp, I decided to switch to English. I want to get my master's degree and teach community college," I told him.
"A nice, stable career like your old man," he joked.
I felt my face heat. Okay, this guy was incredibly hot, but I took offense to that. "Wait just a minute – there's nothing wrong with teaching." I slammed my spoon down on the table.
"Whoa, little lady, I didn't mean it like that," he offered.
"Really? How did you mean it?" I felt my anger growing by the second. "I'll have you know, teaching is a noble profession."
"Hey, I didn't say it wasn't. It's just, you know, predictable. Don't you want to have some fun in life?"
I snorted. "Of course I do, I just want to make a difference, and have a steady paycheck in the process. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing – it's just, you're so young and beautiful, why tie yourself to a classroom when you could see the world?"
My breath hitched. Did this bronzed-haired emerald-eyed god just call me 'beautiful?' I'm sure my eyes were as large as saucers.
"Bella, you okay?"
Was that concern in his voice?
I caught my breath and attempted to respond. "Ah, can you repeat that?"
"Are you okay?" he asked slowly.
"No, I mean, yes, I mean, oh hell…"
A smile danced around his eyes. "Repeat what?" he smirked.
"You said I was 'young and …'"
"'Beautiful?'"
Breathe, Bella "Uh, yes – that," I stammered.
"You are, you know. You're the prettiest girl in here."
Was he nearsighted? I had no makeup except the lip gloss that had vanished with each spoonful of ice cream, and my mousy brown hair was in a ponytail.
"Are you almost done?" he asked.
I looked down at the bowl, still trying to process his words. I knew I couldn't eat another bite at this point.
"Yeah, I'm full," I said, reaching for the napkin dispenser.
"Me too – want to take this outside?"
His green eyes twinkled, and I was lost.
"Where did your brother go?" I asked him as we crossed the parking lot.
"Probably chasing after his latest obsession – Robin? Rosemary? Rosalie. That's it. Blond, blue-eyed, and won't give him the time of day, so therefore, he can't leave her alone."
"I take it she's not returning his affection?"
"Naw, she's playing hard to get. But she likes him, I know it."
"How can you tell?"
"Oh you girls think you're so clever – ignoring us, insulting us, but really, it's all part of the mating ritual."
"'Mating ritual?'"
"Sure – a girl can be looking at a guy, but then looks away when she catches him looking at her. Then when the guy tries to talk to her, she acts too good for him. Then when the girl tries to prove she's not interested, she insults the guy. But when she sees him talking to another girl, that's when she makes her move."
"Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this," I muttered, kicking my Chuck in the gravel.
"Why, are you jealous?"
"Ha! I hardly know you!"
"See, I'm right," he replied smugly.
"Uh-huh," I retorted. Ugh, is that a pebble in my shoe? We stopped next to my truck and I leaned down to dig the offended stone from under my heel. Trying to keep my balance, I leaned on the hood of my truck, reaching for my shoe.
"Need a hand?"
"No, I've got it, thanks." My torso rested against the fender for support, and my tender breast was mashed against the ancient steel. "Arrgghh!" I groaned, straightening my back to relieve the pressure.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
No way am I telling him I just mashed my PMS-water-retaining boob against my truck, I told myself. "I'm fine, just need to get this stupid rock out of my shoe."
"Let me help," he offered, kneeling on the gravel parking lot and reaching for my dusty Chuck.
"You really don't have to do that," I told him. Thank God I shaved my legs this morning!
His long, smooth fingers quickly untied the double-knotted lace and slipped the heel off, dislodging the stone and tossing it on the ground. His fingertips brushed my ankle as he replaced the shoe on my foot, sending a tingle up my leg and straight into –
"There, all better," he said, releasing his hand from the laces. Did he feel it too?
"I really should get home. My dad will get worried if I'm not home when he gets off work."
He reached nervously for my hand. "Bella, I… this was fun. Will you be on campus tomorrow?
What? Does he want to see me again? My body vibrated at the thought.
"Yes, I have two classes tomorrow morning. Why?"
"I'm teaching a seminar tomorrow and well…" he stammered. Is he nervous? "…well, that is, if you're going to be around, wanna grab some coffee or maybe lunch?"
Oh. My. God. He's asking me out, well, out on campus anyway. Say yes, Bella, say yes. His eyes pleaded with me, awaiting my answer, as he took my left hand in his right.
"I'd like that," I answered, almost sighing at the contact. He stepped closer, and I felt his breath on my cheek.
"Thank you," he breathed, gazing into my eyes as his mouth came closer to mine.
He's going to kiss me! Please don't let me hyperventilate! I tried to calm myself, my heart pounding out of my chest, as his lips lightly brushed mine, the scent of fudge and ice cream intermingled with his cologne. He pulled back, taking a deep breath, smiling.
"Joy's Bistro, in the Pirates Union Building, around noon tomorrow?"
I couldn't speak, but nodded my reply.
"Goodnight Swan, Bella Swan," he chuckled. "Drive safely."
I watched as he disappeared into the passenger side of a tall silver jeep with the top up, and it roared out of the parking lot.
Tomorrow, I thought, giddy with excitement and adrenaline.
I would never complain about PMS cravings ever again.
A/N: Thanks to EMCxo for the prompt – she reminded me of something I tweeted a few nights back. Inspiration hits me from the blue sometimes, and rarely can I stop and write, but I like to think some of this came from some new writers who had the courage to post their stories and in turn, inspired me to do this. If you're not reading them, please do, and help support these up and coming authors: "A Matter of Trust" by Quietruby, "A Form of Escapism," by Flubbles, and "Lethal to Virtue" by TheBondGirls.
Thanks to all my pals on Twilighted and Twitter for your friendship - it means so much to me. A special thanks to Snowqueens Icedragon, for telling me a couple of months ago in New York City to "just do it," Belinda (bgwillis) for pre-reading, and Amethyst Jackson, for her fantastic one-shots and friendship - the Muse is for you.