I don't own Twilight.
No, I wasn't at Hooter's when I thought of this .
Bella is a hooter's gal, and a tough one. Days spent slapping off horny men and rejecting them has lead her to not trust men. At all. Can Edward Cullen break down her securely built walls all in one sitting?
**
"Time for the uniform, babe," Rosalie said, throwing me those god-awful bright orange shorts, tank top and tube socks. Oh how I hated being a Hooter girl.
"Why do I even have this icky job?" I muttered, scrunching up my nose as I pulled on the socks.
"Because you're one of the hottest waitresses, so you get the tips," Rose shrugged as she brushed out her blond locks.
"I doubt it," I waved off, pulling on the tank top.
"Ali!" Rose yelled.
"Mhm?" Alice asked, skipping into the room. Her new hairstyle, which she changed every month, was dark brown, spiky hair; almost pixie-like.
"Can you take us there? My car's in the shop and I don't trust myself being in Bella's death trap she calls a car," Rose asked, tying her hair back into a messy twist.
"Sure! I need to head off to Vicky's anyway," She said.
Alice worked at MAC, so she didn't work with Rose and I at Hooter's. I didn't want to be in this position honestly. Half of my class -male- know I work there and it spread throughout the campus fairly quickly. I spent my first two years of college working as a Hooter's girl, and as much as I hate to say it, it paid off. I was able to pay my rent and have food and clothes, plus tuition fees.
"Ready to go?" Alice asked me.
"Yup," I sighed, grabbing my coat and bag, which had an extra change of clothes. I wrapped myself in my swim team jacket, pulling it down just enough to cover the top of my thighs. We all piled into Alice's canary yellow porsche, Rose and Alice up front, me squished in the back.
"Alice, you should hear what Bella tells guys every night," Rose said, a giggle escaping her.
"What does she say?" She asked, a smile creeping up on her perfect face.
"Bells, you tell her," Rose said. I gave her a smile.
"Hello! Welcome to Hooters! And no, I won't give you my hosiery," I said in my fake, perky voice.
Alice laughed out loud. "How'd you come up with that?"
"Some perv asked me for my hosiery," I shrugged. Alice continued to laugh, Rose and I joining her.
I unbuckled my seatbelt as I saw the restaurant come into view.
"Thanks, Ali," I said, blowing her a kiss.
"Yeah, pick us up at eleven please?" Rose asked.
"Sure thing!" Alice said. She waved before pulling out of the parking lot and driving off.
Rose and I walked in the back door, greeting Angela, another waitress. She was in the same position Rose and I were in; She needed to pay her rent and fees.
"Hey guys!" She said brightly, brushing a brown strand from her eyes.
"Hey Angie!" I greeted her while I placed my bag and jacket on the hook.
"Ready for a night of falling?" She joked.
"I can handle walking with trays, ya know," I smiled back.
"Good," She said, smiling. She pointed towards the kitchen. "You've got table three."
I nodded and walked over to grab the tray. Table three was on the other side of the restaurant, and I prayed I won't have any trouble getting there. I balanced the tray on my right hand and walked along the isle nearest to the table.
"I've got the coke, smirnoff and water?" I asked when I got to the table.
There were two regulars at the table. There was a big, beefy curly haired guy, a body builder. You could see the muscles that rippled under his skintight shirt. Next was a blue eyed, baby-faced blond. He had a light sprinkle of freckles and beady looking eyes. Finally, the newbie. He had emerald-green eyes and reddish-bronze hair; an odd combination that even Crayola couldn't make. His jaw was sharp enough to cut hair, yet it made him that much sexier.
"I got the smirnoff," Curly said, giving me a dimpled smile. I smiled politely and handed him the drink. He thanked me before taking a sip.
"I ordered the coke," Blondie said, raising his hand. I slid him the icy soda.
"Thanks," Blondie said, showing off his crest whitestrips smile.
"And you must've gotten the water," I chided to Crayola. His bright green eyes bored into mine as I slid him the glass.
"Um, do you guys want any appetizers? Anything?" I asked, taking my gaze off of Crayola.
"Nah, we'll just order dinner, right guys?" Curly asked. Blondie agreed while Crayola nodded.
"I'll have the hot wings," Curly said.
"Burger," Blondie ordered.
"I'll get the chicken club," Crayola said, speaking for the first time.
I nodded, writing the orders down while committing his voice to memory.
"Your orders should be coming soon," I said before walking back. I bumped into Rosalie, who was bringing a tray of empty beers to the kitchen.
"You've hit the jackpot tonight," Rose whisper-squealed, glancing at table three through the small door window. "The curly haired one is...attractive."
"Mhm," I nodded, clipping the ticket to the kitchen line.
"Oh, come on Bells! The red-brunette-blond or whatever he is seems like your type," She nudged.
Hm, yeah right. Crayola's definitely out of my league.
"Doesn't it sound cliche though? 'My girlfriend's a Hooter's girl'," I said, deepening my voice.
"Well...yeah I guess. But we still can mess with them, right?" Rose sighed.
"This isn't messing with them enough?" I pointed to the tacky, orange booty shorts.
Rose rolled her eyes as she grabbed a trayfull of appetizers.
"At least have a little fun tonight. Not all men are horny skunk bags, ya know," She called before she pushed the door open and sauntered to table five.
"Bells!" The chef called. "Table Three!"
I nodded and grabbed the tray, steadying it over my two hands.
I walked quickly to the table, ignoring the obvious stares at my ass as I walked.
"Wow 'em, biotch," Rose joked in my ear when she passed by.
I gave the table a smile as I set down their plates. Blondie gave me a sweet smile and Curly gave me his dimpled one. Crayola didn't even acknowledge me.
"My names Emmett," Curly said.
"Bella," I nodded.
"Would you mind introducing me to your blond friend?" He asked. I saw Blondie and Crayola roll their eyes out of my peripheral vision.
"Hm, I'm not sure. She's really picky 'bout her guys," I shrugged, picking up the empty glasses.
"Well," He took out a pen and paper.
Oh he was really goin' for it.
"Here's my number. Give it to her, at least?" He asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
"Sure," I smiled. I turned to balance the tray in my hands.
"Oh, wait!"
I turned back around and saw Blondie inching closer.
"I was wondering, well I know you get asked out by a lot of guys but... if you wanted to go out with me?" He asked.
Aw, he was kinda cute.
"Um..." I said, pretending to think about it.
"We could just go as friends if you want?" He asked hopefully, brushing his hair out of his face. "Just for a drink. Tonight after your shift?"
"Hm, friends," I sighed.
At least have a little fun tonight. Not all men are horny skunk bags, ya know! Rosalie's voice echoed in my head.
"Sure."
"My name's Mike," He said, holding out his hand. I shook it and smiled at him.
"Well, Mike, you're gonna wait it out until 11 o'clock? It's 8:30," I said.
"I can come back when your shift is done," He offered. I saw Crayola roll his eyes and shake his head.
"Erm, sure," I said before walking back with the empty glasses.
I had a weird feeling about this guy, but I'll give him the benefit of doubt.
I when I got back to the kitchen, I slapped the piece of paper onto Rosalie's hand.
"You've got a gentleman caller," I announced.
"Ooh, really? Which one?" She asked excitedly.
"The body builder. Emmett," I said.
"Really?" She peered over through the small window.
"You gonna go for him?" I asked, putting the tray through the small bar.
"Yeah," She sighed. "Did anyone ask you out yet?"
"Yup."
"Who?! Details!" She asked.
"The prep. Mike," I answered.
"Ha, I knew it! So when are you going out with him?"
"We're only going as friends," I shrugged. "I really doubt he'll even come back."
"Well, it's better than not going out with him at all," Rose sighed. "Who knows? He could be the one."
"Sure," I said, not believing her. All men are douches. Period. Except for dad, of course.
I gripped my tray and walked back to the table with their drinks.
"Thanks," Everyone mumbled but Crayola. I tapped Emmett's shoulder and beckoned him to stand up.
"So, did'ja give her my number?" He asked excitedly.
"I sure did. Now, if you really wanna wow her, don't show off," I told him.
"What? Why?" He asked, flexing his goods.
"She hates it when someone shows off their body openly. Do subtle gestures though; opening the car door for her, showing a bit of muscle with your shirts, stuff like that."
"How do you know she'll go for me?" He asked.
"Oh trust me, she will. I wouldn't be giving you my Rosalie advice for nothing; would I?" I asked.
"True," He shrugged.
"And what's up with Crayola over there? He hasn't said two words to me and I already feel that he hates me," I shuddered.
"Nah, Edward's got his panties in a twist. Breakup over some Jessica girl. She was brutal," He shuddered. "He's been like that for almost a month now."
"Aw," I cooed. He walked over and sat back down in his seat while I slid them their refills.
"Anything else you guys?" I asked.
"I'm good," Emmett said.
"Same," Mike said.
They both turned to Edward.
"Mhm," He muttered. Well, it was better than nothing.
I smiled politely. "No dessert?"
"We'll save that for later," Mike said in I guess a 'seductive' tone. I saw Edward roll his eyes while Emmett coughed, trying to contain his laughter.
"Check please?" Emmett asked.
"Yeah, sure," I said. I gripped the empty tray in both hands and walked back to the kitchen.
"Bells?"
I turned to face Angela.
"Yeah, Ang?"
"Can you cover my shift tonight?" Her hazel eyes looked at me pleadingly. "I mean, I just got a call; my sister's in labor right now and she really needs me - "
I held up a hand. "Sure, Angela. Now go on! Labor must be painful."
She kissed me quickly on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Bella! I'll repay you some way!"
I chuckled as she bolted for the door, still clad in her uniform.
"Table One!" The chef called out. I ran over and grabbed the tray from him.
"Covering for her. Check book for table three?" I asked the confused-looking chef. He nodded and turned his back to me before giving me the check book. I strode over to table one, full of high school kids.
"Hi," One of them said.
"Hello," I muttered, sliding their plates onto the table.
"Do you wanna go out some time?"
Um, forward much?
"I have a boyfriend," I mumbled, grabbing their empty glasses.
"Your loss," He shrugged. I cocked an eyebrow up.
"Excuse me?"
"Your loss," He repeated.
I rolled my eyes. I have a loss since I rejected a 17-year-old? I waived it off and walked over to table three to give the check.
Emmett's dimpled smile widened as he thanked me, giving me a twenty. Mike gave me a ten, and Edward gave me a twenty as well. I smiled and wished them a good night. Emmett waved, Edward adverted his eyes from me, and Mike winked.
Ewwwww.
I stumbled back into the kitchen, balancing two trays with both of my hands. As I pushed the trays through the small opening, I almost ran into Lauren.
"Watch where ya goin'!" She said in a fake-sounding Long Island accent.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pushing the tray into the bar. I quickly refilled the drinks and was back out the door, avoiding Lauren at all costs.
I sighed and handed the boys their drinks, earning a few smirks from them. They threw me twenties and looked at me expectantly, as If I was about to give them a lap dance. I took their empty plates, the twenties, and walked back into the kitchen. I spent the rest of my shift covering more tables, earning a few stares, and low whistles.
"Bella?"
I turned to Rose, who was shrugging into her coat.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want me to wait with you here? That Mike guy you said looked pretty shady," She tried.
"I'll be fine Rose," I said, taking out my sweat pants from my bag and hobbling into them. "I've got my phone and bus fare, so I think I'll be good if he blows me off."
"Such high hopes, you have," Rose muttered sarcastically. I giggled and bid her a goodnight and locked up.
I waited out by the bench a few feet from the restaurant and looked at my phone. 11:20.
Like I said. All men are douches.
I heard a crackling of thunder before it began to pour. I dipped my head in and covered it with my swim jacket.
"Hey," A familiar voice that was definitely not Mike's called.
I whipped around and saw Mr. Crayola himself.
"Hey, Mr. I'm-so-quiet," I called back.
"You need a ride?" He asked, his green eyes penetrating into my muddy brown ones.
"I'm good," I said, prying my eyes away from his.
"C'mon, you're soaked," He said gruffly. "I'm not all that bad."
"Mhm, not like your friend," I muttered.
"Mike's a douche," He tried.
"So is the rest of the male human race."
"Bella, you're gonna catch a cold."
I shook my head no and glued my eyes to the ground. This guy was getting under my skin, and I barely knew him.
The next thing I knew, he threw me over his shoulder and started heading back to his car.
"Hey! Let me go!" I yelled at him.
"Stubborn," He mumbled, gripping me even tighter.
"I'll yell rape!" I warned him.
"I'm only trying to help you."
I heard a clicking of the door and he sat me in his car. A volvo. A fucking volvo.
"Who drives a soccer mom's car?"
"Me," He stated simply.
"I'm getting out."
"Bella," He almost growled out. "Just stay in the car. Please."
I folded my arms and grunted in annoyance.
"You are really annoying," I muttered.
"And you are really stubborn," He countered, turning the key in ignition. He reached into the backseat and threw me an extra coat.
"You'll freeze if you're just in that," He continued before driving off.
I said nothing and wrapped myself in the warmth of the coat. It smelled...clean. Not like axe or sweat or anything. It smelled like freshly tumbled laundry and something else that I couldn't place.
"Where do you live?" He asked.
"John street. 115 John street," I told him.
An uncomfortable silence took over as he drove into the city. I peered over at his profile. God, he was better looking up close. His reddish/bronze/brown hair was damp from the rain, his eyes sparkling in the dark, that sharp jaw...
I snapped out of my reverie. God, I already am lusting over for this man. He couldn't be that bad, right? He offered to take me home, and his eyes never lingered below my neck.
"Um, thanks. You know, for going through the trouble to take me home," I said when he stopped at my building.
"You're welcome," He sighed, his emerald orbs boring into me once more. I sat in his car for another minute of two before pulling off the coat.
"You can keep it," He said. "I mean, if you want."
"No, I'd have to explain to my room mates," I said, giving him a slight smile. His upper lips tugged into a crooked smile as well.
"I, um, heard what happened to you," I said. "Emmett told me."
"Ah, yeah. I'm sorry for my behavior. Mike suggested that seeing scantily clad girls serving us food would be a good way to cheer me up." He rolled his eyes.
"Not the best idea," I giggled.
"And you, being so...objective of the human male race?" He asked me.
"I guess that's what I started believing. All men were douche bags," I shrugged.
"Were?" He asked me.
"I guess you changed that a bit," I smiled. "Thanks for not jumping me in the car."
"Sorry for throwing you over my shoulder," He replied sheepishly. I let out a chuckle as I unbuckled my seat belt.
"If you want, you can call me. I mean, just to talk. I'm all ears," He asked. A smirk painted my lips.
"A bit ahead of yourself?" I laughed. His ears tinged a pink color.
"Of course," I grabbed a pen and wrote 'Edward' on my hand.
We exchanged numbers quickly.
"Thank you," I said once more.
"You're very welcome," He replied, giving me that crooked smile that turned my knees into jell-o.
I ran quickly into the apartment building, looking back into the rainy night as he drove off.
I was going to call Edward.
**
I'll leave the rest to imagination.
I got really bored. I thought about this as a chapter story, but I decided to just do a one-shot instead. Tell me your thoughts, concerns, or anything inbetween!