State of Love and Trust by MrsSpaceCowboy and BellaFlan (or SpaceFlan)
A/N welcome to the 90s nostalgia collaboration between MrsSpaceCowboy and BellaFlan. We have created a SpaceFlan profile to post future chapters of this story to. You can find it listed under my favorite authors. This will be a short-ish fic of maybe six chapters, and we'll try to keep the angst to a minimum. Standard disclaimers apply. First chapter originally submitted for Fandom for Sandy Victims.
Romance/comedy. Twilight meets Singles. It's the 90s and Bella is nursing a broken heart while thwarting the affections of her boundary-challenged best friend, Alice. Could the next Eddie Vedder be the balm she needs to learn to trust again?
Beta'd by Mac and Maxipoo
Chapter one of a novella.
They - whoever the fuck they are - say, "Be careful what you wish for." And shit, man, I should have considered myself warned. All the signs pointed to catastrophe. But when every day was shrouded in bleak grey, I couldn't help welcoming a little sun.
I buttoned my flannel up to my tits, leaving it gaping (not to be slutty but to show off my Pearl Jam shirt) and let forth a dramatic sigh.
"Alice," I gushed, "you have no fucking clue. None. There is no scale in existence to adequately measure the hotness of this man. I mean, I'm considering going back to college just to get the math and science I would need to invent such a scale. It would take into account his accent, penis size, and chest width...and then I suppose I'd have to apply some sort of data template to the score and multiply by forty-two. That's brilliant, right? I'm thinking Nobel Prize."
Alice giggled. "You're not making much sense, Bella. And can I just say this is so surreal? It's like we've traded places. You don't fawn over guys; I do. You're always so morose or whatever."
Fuck, I was not morose! Just because I liked black and grunge and worshipped the devil...totally kidding about that last one, by the way.
"Come to the goth side." I took a hit off my bong which had the added bonus of creating the Vader breath effect. "We have acid!"
"You know I don't touch that shit."
"Pity." The word was garbled as the mouthpiece of the bong was pursed between my lips.
"Tell me about this Brazilian hottie again?" Alice settled on the floor beside me. With nimble fingers she opened her compact and smudged black kohl under her lash line. It made her eyes look really green...like cucumbers. So cumbersome, that one. Ha! I'm funny. Wait what did Alice ask?
"So fly, oh my god." I plucked at a string hanging from a careful rip I'd cut into my jeans this morning. My exposed leg looked too white in contrast with the denim. "I'm such a girl right now. But dude, he's so hot I can't even!"
"Yeah, we covered the hotness that is Javier."
"Nuhual," I corrected.
"Nah, I'm gonna need to call him Javier. Nahual is a stupid name for a Latin lover." She flicked the back of my neck, and I shuddered away the sensation of spiders on my skin, screeching.
"Jesus! Why do you do that?"
"Because I'm tiny and annoying." Alice shrugged. "But what good will it do to obsess over him? Isn't he halfway back to Brazil by now?"
"Alice!" I smacked her hand as she attempted to tickle my armpit. The girl had serious boundary issues. "I'm pretty sure his plane's landed. Is it too soon to call? It is, right? I shouldn't call."
"Definitely too soon. Guys don't like needy chicks."
"Right. I'm not gonna call." I reached for my purse and tugged at the zipper, the cheap material catching in the teeth.
"What're you doing?"
"I'm not looking for my calling card, that's for sure."
"You're so hopeless. You're officially not allowed to make fun of me and Jasper ever again." Alice snatched my purse and flicked my neck again.
"What's your damage?"
"You are. We're going out."
"Noooo!" I moaned, feigning a dramatic swoon. "I'm too tragically in love to party. Go on without me. Leave me to wallow in my heartache."
Alice tapped her foot and glanced at her watch. "Are you just about done here?"
"No!" I said and promptly broke out into an off-key rendition of Nothing Compares 2 U.
"Bella!" A flash of her black Docs as she kicked the floor beside my head and proceeded to grab my hand, dragging me across the hardwood floor towards the door.
"I can eeeeeat my dinner in a fancy restauraaaaaant," I sang.
xxxxx
Gasworks was so crowded we could barely move, let alone dance. Still, Alice somehow managed to push her body flush against mine and sway to Alice in Chains as if it was a slow song.
"Promise me something?" she screamed.
"Anything!"
"No matter what happens, we will still go dancing on Saturday nights."
"We will always go dancing on Saturday nights!" I screamed and threw my head back. The lights that streamed down from the ceiling throbbed in time with my heart.
"What?"
"We'll always go dancing on Saturday nights!"
Alice nuzzled my neck and screamed, "What?" again.
"Jesus, Ali, I'm not your lesbian lover. Get a handle on your proximity issues." I pulled away from her and headed toward the bar. My glass was empty; I needed another drink. Liquid courage was required because I was totally calling Nahual when I got home.
Alice followed me, chirping away about some hottie she'd spotted across the club. Like I gave a shit. Hot guys meant jack now. My heart was completely owned by a tragically Brazilian art student...not that being from Brazil was tragic. It was just that Nahual being in another country, away from me, was a downright catastrophe of epic proportions.
He needs to be where I am. I shuddered at the memory of his arms around me, our abdomens flush, and his dick buried in me. To the hilt. I mean, I hadn't even realized I had a hilt until he hit it! Now I was kind of walking like a duck. Wait, was the hilt in the vagina or did the term refer to the guy's balls? Damn, I wish there was a place I could look up this information at my whim...but I digress. He'd told me he loved me like no other. In retrospect, it sounded cheesy, but I knew it was love-the real thing.
I loved him.
He needs to be where I am...always.
"Oh, my god!" I squeaked, the pitch of my voice making me sound like a mouse. "I think I'm having a thought...possibly an idea."
"Will wonders never cease! And holy fuckers, it's loud on the dance floor. At least I can finally hear you." Alice pounded her tiny yet persistent fist on the bar. "We need to get fucked up over here! Tequila!"
"Listen to me!" I punched her arm.
"Oh, do it again. My nipples are hard now. Hit me again!" Alice licked her lips.
"Jeez, you're a perv. No, seriously, Ali...what do you know about immigration law?"
"Oh, you know, lots." She waved her hand.
"Really?"
"No!" She snorted. "Nothing. I know all the lyrics to the album Ten, though. You know, if that's helpful."
"It's not."
"Don't ask dumb questions and expect brilliant answers, buzz kill."
I smacked her shoulder, forgetting she liked that kind of shit. She gave me a salacious grin, to which I replied, "I'm gonna ask Nahual to marry me."
"Step off!"
"I'm serious," I insisted. "I know it sounds crazy, and maybe it is, but if we're married he can be in the same country as me. Legally. Lawfully wedded...to me."
"Are you high?"
"I dunno, a little." I shrugged.
"The question was rhetorical. I mean...oh, snap. Hot guy is now at the other end of the bar making out with a blonde tramp."
"Focus!"
"You know I lack focus at the best of times." She dug a few bills out of her cleavage and passed them to the bartender. "Keep the change, cowboy."
"So, you think I'm spun, right?"
"Bella...just drink the shot. I don't know what to think." She swallowed her drink in one gulp, slammed down the glass, and proceeded to rub her temples as if warding off a migraine.
"But you think this is a bad idea?"
"What am I, psychic? I don't know...probably, but it's your mistake to make. Who am I to stand in the way of unbridled stupidity?" She drank three more shots in succession; I hadn't even noticed the bartender had lined them up.
"So...yeah?" I grinned. "I'll go all in. I'm gonna call him as soon as I get home and make an honest man out of him. Do you think he'll go for it?"
"Surrrrre," she slurred. "Who could say no to you, pretty?"
"Thanks, babe. Now take your hand off my tit."
"Oh, pooh, you're no fun. Let's get you home and engaged to Javier."
"Nahual," I said, nearly choking. My stomach lurched into my throat, and the entire room spun around as if I was its axis.
"You know I hate that name."
"No. I mean...Nahual. He's here. At the end of the bar." My vision blurred.
"Hot guy with the golden skin and Nirvana shirt?"
"My shirt," I managed, sweat breaking out out on my skin and bitter saliva pooling in my mouth.
"Why is your fiancé making out with a blonde bimbo? He's supposed to be in Brazil."
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out but vomit.
"Son of a bitch," Alice said. She caught me around the waist to keep me from pitching face first into the splatter.
It was hard to tell which stung the most: my eyes or my throat. At that moment, I made up my mind to leave with whatever dignity I was still clinging to. I refused to cry.
"I was going to marry him," I wailed in the car. Then the unthinkable happened. Some dumb night shift DJ decided to torture me with Sinead O'Connor. Alice quickly adjusted the channel, but it didn't help much because every station was playing heartbreak songs. By the time we got back to my place, I'd sworn off men completely.
My attitude didn't improve much over the following days. Alice was a constant nuisance through the week - popping in for lunch, coming over after work with various Blockbuster selections, bringing me food, trying to cop a feel...the norm.
"We're going out Saturday night," she said as we scarfed down some post Mary Jane Taco Bell late Thursday night.
"No," I said.
"Jasper's band has a gig at The Crocodile."
"Double Dick?"
"DOUBLE HEAD!"
"Still pornorific, either way. I don't think it's a good idea. I'd rather stay alone in my misery."
"Oh, bullshit," she said. "Be ready at eight."
"If I beg-"
"Not a chance."
"What if he shows up?" I didn't ever want to see his stupid, lying face again.
"I have big friends."
Pfft. I hoped she didn't mean Jasper. He was scary in a Layne Staley-braided beard sort of way.
"You'll see," she said.
It was hard to ignore the constant begging and repetitive groping, so I finally gave in around nine, only after she promised to leave and not come back until Saturday.
When Saturday came, I begged Alice to drive since I had every intention of getting beyond fucked up. She agreed, and we hit the bong a few times before making our way down to the car. As per the norm, every parking spot on Second was taken, and we were forced to park a few blocks away.
"You're sure this looks okay?" I asked as the familiar green and white sign came into view.
"It's horrid and tacky…in other words - perfect." She smiled as she reached out and caressed the sleeve of Granny's old coat.
"Hands off my fur, bitch."
We slowed down, checking out the flyers covering every inch of window space along the wall of The Crocodile, and took our places in the line that was already wrapped around the corner of the building.
"I like touching your fur," she said in her best smoker's porno voice.
"Save it for Jasper. You can pet his beard or something. Why are we standing out here? Your boyfriend is in the fucking band."
"So is my brother. It doesn't matter."
"March up there and tell the doorman who you are. If he gives us any shit, we'll flash him."
She wavered for a moment, unsure as she glanced at the people in front of us. "Come on," she said, grabbing my hand and marching around the corner to the front of the line. I stopped dead in my tracks as we came face-to-face with one of the biggest dudes I'd ever seen. He was like The Hulk, only not green or growling. Yet.
"Uh, nevermind," I said, ready to go back to the end of line to avoid pissing him off.
Instead of backing down, Alice dropped my hand and walked directly up to the behemoth and chest bumped him. I watched in confused horror.
"S'up, Felix?" She grinned and, oh my fuck, flicked his nipple.
"Hey, shortie."
Oh, thank fuck she knows him.
It was hard to tell with Alice sometimes.
"They're about to start the sound check," he said.
"Can we go in?"
He looked torn. "I don't know. The doors aren't scheduled to open until nine."
"I forgot to give Jasper a good luck kiss earlier," she said. "I need to catch him before they go on."
"You're going to come back out, right?" he asked while holding the door open for us.
Alice and I were already over the threshold when she turned and said, "No."
We could see him shaking his head as the door closed.
"You're evil. And you just molested that guy. You're evil Lester the Molester!" Evil for making me go out, evil for snowing The Hulk, evil for…damn. "Who the hell is that?"
"Who?" She glanced at the stage, and we both inspected the hottie standing next to Jasper. His long hair was tucked beneath a black Thunderbirds skull cap. As we stared, he lifted a guitar strap over his head and settled a double head against his body.
Her lips twisted at the corner. "That's my brother Edward. He's…moody, so just ignore him, okay?"
"Moody, like raging asshole moody or PMS moody?" And hadn't I seen his picture before? In her family photo, the guy - her brother - was a total prep. What a difference a few years can make!
"Depends." She shrugged.
Our conversation ended when the guys began plucking away at guitar strings. Loud chords echoed through the club until the second biggest guy I'd ever seen lumbered into the room, twirling drumsticks with his hands.
The guitar licks ceased immediately.
Mr. Moody narrowed his eyes, stepped up to the mic, and wrapped four perfect fingers around it before he spoke. "You were supposed to be here an hour ago, asshole."
"Your brother's the singer, not the drummer, right?" I said. His voice was low and gravelly, completely hump worthy. The jeans and fitted Hendrix t-shirt were bonuses.
"Yeah. That's Edward. I can introduce you, but he's not worth it."
Before I could ask why, the huge guy slid behind the drums and pounded out a warm up. When Jasper and Edward joined in on guitar, she tugged on my fur, petting it on our way over to the bar.
We had to yell our order to the poor bartender. When he brought our drinks, he tossed two green paper wristbands on the bar in front of us.
Three whiskey sours later, the doors finally opened, and Alice and I ditched the bar to get good spots close to the stage.
"Now I see why they're called Double Dick," I said, staring at her brother's pretty guitar and watching him maneuver two sets of strings.
"DOUBLE HEAD," she said. "Double Head. Double Head. DOUBLE HEAD!"
The band stopped playing sometime around the second time Alice screamed "head" in front of an anxious gathering of fans.
Jasper stepped up to his mic and extended a hand in our direction. "Ladies and gentleman, I have no idea who that girl is, but thanks for the introduction, sweetheart." He blew her a kiss, and she gave him the finger in return.
At some point during their verbal foreplay, Alice's brother turned his attention to me.
It was obvious he wasn't impressed with what he saw. He grimaced and shook his head after giving me a once over.
Well, screw you, too, Mr. Moody. Shit, did I grow a second head or something? Wait, maybe then I could be their mascot. Just...why the scowl-face? Sure, I wasn't Kate Moss, but it wasn't like I was completely unfortunate looking.
What he lacked in manners, he made up for in looks and that voice. That fucking voice! As soon as the band started playing, I was completely transfixed by the way he could growl yet be so melodic all at once.
"It's impolite to stare at your friend's brother like you want to eat him." Alice breathed this in my ear like a phone sex operator.
It wasn't like I could help it. "He looks so yummy."
"Yeah, well, don't lick him. Some social circles would consider that rude." She paused and added, "Not me, though. Feel free to lick me all you want."
"Gag, KD Lang. Tell me about that dish over there." I motioned to the stage, the white fur of my coat glowing blue from the overhead spotlights.
"They say he's the next Eddie Vedder. As if!"
"Who's they?"
"They!" Alice's voice rose an octave. I was worried about the glassware, should she become more shrill. "Reporters. The scene. Cobain..."
"Cobain?!"
"Jasper says he scoped some of their shows. He digs the double head technique."
"That name is wrought with connotation." I ripped my fingers through my messy hair and allowed a heavy ball of unease to settle in my stomach. It was too soon to crush on a new guy. My freshly ripped out heart couldn't handle another contusion. "He's cute...your brother, that is."
"He's lame. All he cares about are social issues and world peace."
"You say that like it's a bad thing." I frowned.
"Trust me, Bella. He's too intense...not at all what you need right now. Check out Emmett - the guy on drums with the dreads - instead. He parties. Plus, Leah said he has mad skills. Drummers just try harder, you know?"
"He's so Vedder it's not even funny. Not the drummer...your brother. Edward." I felt fickle saying it. Just days ago I was ready to pledge my undying love to that lying asshole. But hey, Romeo was in love with that Rosalie chick before he fell for Juliet, right? "I think I'm too high. I'm having high school English flashbacks."
"You're lusting after my brother, so I agree. You must be way too high."
His voice was so hot while he sang a song about mother nature crying, having been ass-raped by loggers. It was deep. I wanted to soothe him. You know, dry his weeping dick with my mouth. His forehead furrowed as he hit a note at the upper end of his register, fingers gripping the mic.
"I've never been so jealous of a microphone," I lamented.
"Gross. I need a drink if you're gonna fuck my brother." Alice waved her hand, motioning for the bartender. "I need to get fucked up! Serviiiiice!"
"You really think he'd sleep with me?" Jesus, I sounded like a common groupie. I even felt a stirring between my legs just watching him rock back and forth on stage; I could imagine him moving like that on top of me. "Can we get closer?"
"Um...yeah." She glanced at my jacket and grabbed my arm, pursing her lips. "That's not real fur, is it?"
"This again? I already told you, you can't grope me under the pretext of checking out the jacket."
"No, it's just that-"
"Holy shit! He's covering Pearl Jam. This is serendipity!"
"The restaurant?"
"No, the noun. He's so Vedder it's crazy, and now he's playing State of Love and Trust, which is probably Pearl Jam's most underrated song. I think I'm gonna come."
"Really? You should let me grope you. It might move things along."
Even though she was perving, I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stage. The crowd parted easily as we made our way across the room. I wondered if Alice's reputation preceded her here.
"There's a chance a few people might recognize me. I'm not a freak. I just have so much love to give!"
"I know, weirdo. And if I licked clam, I'd totally be into yours."
"Don't pretend you're not a slut," she shouted just as the the applause died down. My face grew hot. Actually, my entire body was burning. This coat was kind of ridiculous for a sweaty, little club. I fanned my face with my purse and felt my pulse quicken as I looked back at the stage.
Edward was staring right at me!
"This next song is about overtaxing the weak." His eyes were fire. Fucking hell, it was hot in here! "The rich keep getting richer, and I'm so hungry." The band broke into a cover of Hunger Strike by Temple of the Dog.
"There's only one Cullen I'm interested in, and I'm hoping he's just as hands-y as you. How come you never told me your brother's so hot."
"I never noticed. I might be a freak, but I draw the line at incest."
"Ah, sweetie, you're not a freak. I'm just teasing." I pulled her into a full body hug, and she pinched my ass.
"Shhh, don't move. It'll feel good if you let it."
I was about to make another quip about her boundary issues when the song cut off with an abrupt screech, feedback reverberating through the room.
"Murder!" Edward yelled.
Words completely failed me.
"Shit," Alice said. "This is what I was afraid of."
His rage definitely solidified him as a rocker. It was so moody…so distant…so…directed at me? I glanced around to make sure it was me he was looking at because I've done a lot of crazy shit, but murder isn't on the list.
"Is that real fur, sweetheart?" he said into the mic as he gave me an appraising look.
I nodded to keep myself from making inappropriate comments or offering to let him inspect the coat in question. It did weird things to my girl-parts when he called me sweetheart. Weird, wet things.
"Fur is dead," he said.
Not too bright, this one.
It was a good thing he made up for it with grit and a double neck guitar. "It is dead," I agreed.
"Your coat is dead."
"Ah, hell," said a random voice from the back. "Here we go again." The people around us stood watching in a stoned, silent stupor.
"Is he trippin'?" I asked Alice. With her eyes closed, she shook her head. "Um…this was my grandmother's, so it's been dead like fifty years."
"Uh oh," Alice said.
"What?" I asked before pointing at her slightly ridiculous brother. "He's wearing fucking Docs, for crying out loud! And is he worried about all the sheep that were vandalized to make his little cap?"
"If you paint her, Edward, so help me god!" Alice threw her boot at the stage.
Wait, did she just say something about painting me?
"He can paint me if he wants."
"Ew!" She pretended to cover her ears. "I'm not talking about spraying jizz. He'll go all Morrissey on your coat and throw a bucket of red paint at you."
"Say what? That's messed up. Like the end of the movie Carrie, except the PETA folks probably wouldn't approve of pig's blood."
Instead of continuing his tirade, he went back to playing.
"I told you he was moody," Alice yelled over the music.
"I can work with moody, maybe find a way to help him channel all that misplaced anger. I might even let him paint me. Later. At home. You know, with-"
"Double ew!"
"Double Head," I corrected.
"It will never work. This isn't a Paula Abdul song. Oil and water come to mind."
"I learned my lesson with Javier. There's only one thing I want from your brother."
She gave me annoyed look and then shimmied up and down my side, turning me into some kind of human stripper pole. The worst part about having a physically affectionate friend like Alice was the effect it had on guys. That night was no exception. Within minutes, a couple of inked up hotties with long, dark ponytails worked their way over to stand next to us.
"I'm Jake, and I think your coat is awesome," one of them said as he reached out to either pet it or grab my tit.
I moved closer to Alice.
"Thanks. I'm letting that guy," I paused and pointed at Edward, "voice-fuck me right now, and I'm not into threesomes."
He backed off but stayed close, brushing against me every now and then until I stomped his foot with my boots.
Edward skipped the small talk between songs, and the tension in him only seemed to increase with each passing moment. He didn't spare me another glance after our little tiff, but what really made me happy was that he didn't pay any attention to the groupettes circled just beneath him in front of the stage either.
His eyes roamed the audience occasionally, but most of the time they were closed or on his guitar. When he moved, we caught his rhythm and let him carry us away. I'm not sure how the hell he pulled it off, but it reinforced my decision to seduce him at any cost and force him to give me a private show.
By the time he thanked the crowd, I was ready to follow Alice's brother right out the back door and listen to him bitch about fur while I stripped for him.
"I need food," Alice said. "Let's get it now during the set change while everyone else is outside smoking."
There were only a handful of people in line, and Alice and I decided to split a meatball sub and an order of fries. She ditched me to make a bathroom run, and Mr. Ponytail Dude harassed me at the bar until the grub was ready.
"Let's take it outside," I said to Alice when she rejoined me at the bar. Edward and Jasper were out there somewhere, and Mr. Ponytail was inside. It was a no brainer.
We made our way out to the sidewalk and found a spot on the pavement next to the building. As my shitty luck would have it, the guys showed up at the same moment I bit off far more than I could chew from my end of the sub and a meatball lodged firmly in my throat.
I tried to say, "Alice," but what came out sounded more like, "Ack ckkkk." They all looked at me like I was an idiot until I gripped my own neck and slapped Alice to get her attention.
Before I even realized what was happening, she pounded my back with her fist, and the meatball shot out of my mouth like slimy miniature shot put and landed on Edward Cullen's black Doc.
Fuck me.
I tried to speak, but the words came out garbled on account of my near death experience and sore throat. I gasped, swallowing mouthfuls of air in an attempt to inflate my oxygen-starved lungs.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked, kicking my meat spew off his shoe.
"I'm so mortified."
"You turned blue." Alice's tone was nonchalant. "It was freaky."
"It's like Morrissey said, man. Meat is murder." The corner of Edward's mouth lifted...like, he almost smiled.
"Gah?" I was eloquent as ever.
"It nearly killed you. Ironic." He shrugged his brown jacket off his shoulders and offered it to me. His shirt rode up in the process, exposing a delicious line of flesh between the hem and jeans. "Give your jacket a proper burial, and you can have mine."
"It's a hand-me-down; I didn't murder it."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You make fur look good. You have a responsibility to mother earth not to wear carcass. It'll make other people wear it, too. People are sheep."
"I thought you liked animals. And also? Your jacket is suede." I threw his jacket back at him. "I've changed my mind. I don't want to have sex with you."
"You want to...what?"
Alice stepped between us and punched her brother in the side of the neck. "You're such a self-obsessed idiot. Bella wanted to fuck you, and then you had to open your big, stupid, mother nature-humping mouth."
He pushed Alice out of the way and asked, "You wanted to...sleep with me?"
"I guess." I stared at my shoes. "But I don't like double standards. You could say I have trust issues, and I don't trust a guy who can't stand behind his convictions. If fur is dead, then so is leather...so, no. I don't want to have sex with you." I pivoted, intending to make a dramatic departure, however, I slipped on that stupid meatball and landed on my ass.
"Bella!" Alice yelled. "You fell again."
"Thanks for kicking me while I'm down," I muttered, dusting off my jeans. My ass and face heated while tears burned in my eyes. "I just wanna go home."
"I'll take you," Edward said in a voice softer than it had been all night.
"No...don't bother."
"I didn't mean to insult you." His forehead furrowed. I wanted to run my fingers over the crease but instead accepted his offered hand. He pulled me to my feet, and my entire body ignited into a hot mess.
"Explain yourself. Why is suede okay but fur isn't?"
"Yeah!" Alice chimed in through a mouthful of sandwich.
"It's about resources, man. The leather would be produced because the cow is slaughtered for its meat. The animal is destroyed, so we should honor it by avoiding waste."
"Bullshit," I sneezed. "I don't think suede is even made from beef cattle."
"You've been brainwashed by the machine." He shook his head.
"Okay, I'm leaving for real now."
"Wait!" Edward grabbed my arm. "Let me take you home."
"I'm not having sex with you."
"That's fine."
"And you have another set," I reminded him.
"It doesn't matter. I'm looking at the bigger picture."
"And that is?"
"That thing about sex...that you wanted to have it...with me."
I rubbed my temples. "My head hurts."
"Mine, too," Alice agreed. "I told you he's too intense. I'm gonna go make out with Jasper. Come find me if you're sticking around." She grabbed Jasper by the braided beard and dragged him back into the club, yelling something about needing service.
"Bella." Edward's voice was gravel. He bent down so we were at eye level. "You're in a bad place."
"Seattle?"
"You deflect with humor."
I shrugged.
"This isn't you. I don't believe you want to have meaningless sex."
"Jesus fuck! You don't know me." If my jaw was glass it would have shattered under the weight of my clench.
"I think I'm supposed to know you. And I'm pretty sure you're not the kind of woman who only wants a cheap fuck from a guy."
"Oh, but I am. You've misinterpreted my intentions. It's my fault, really. I'm bad with signals."
"I'm busting down your pretext."
"Nice. Well, as much as I love that song, it's not gonna happen. Go back inside."
"No. I'm taking you home."
"I'm not fucking you," I reminded him. Honestly, I didn't even want to have sex with the guy anymore. He was exhausting.
"No, you're not. I won't settle for anything less than mind blowing with you. That's not going to happen tonight."
"Are you expecting me to swoon?"
He grinned. And goddamn, if I thought he couldn't get any hotter, I was way wrong.
"Maybe not yet, but give me time."
I glared at him. "If I let you take me home, will you promise to stop being so weird?"
"Yeah. Will you give me a chance?"
"At what?"
"To make up for calling you a murderer...and being an asshole?"
I shrugged. "One chance."
"That's all I'm asking for."
Trust had to be earned. I wasn't going to set myself up for another heartache by jumping into things too quickly this time.
I wasn't.
A/N: Also, don't forget to check out the entries for the Smells Like Metallic Roses 90s TwiFic Contest. You can find the contest page on my favorite authors list. The deadline has been extended, and you can still submit entries until Jan 31st!