So I am currently obsessed with J/B fics, and I just hadhadhad to write my own. It was just calling to me. I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the crazy ideas in my mind…
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Chapter 1: Smack in the Face
I was running late. Again. So much so that I was actually physically running. Not smart, considering I am the poster child for clumsy people. But if I was late one more time, I would never hear the end of it.
And so I raced down the crowded sidewalk, mumbling both apologies and curses to people I accidentally pushed and others who just wouldn't move. I was almost there, when--
SNAP!
"Ugh!" I muttered in frustration and disgust as I stopped to take off my left shoe. The stupid heel dangled uselessly by a strip of fabric. Oh, I was so dead. Well, if that was the case, I may as well go all out. I pulled the heel off, then removed my undamaged shoe and whacked it forcefully against a metal trash bin until that heel popped off as well. Then I replaced both shoes and began a leisurely stroll in my new flats.
Since I was already going to be atrociously late, I decided to stop at my favorite coffee shop for a much needed caffeine fix.
It was a quick walk over there. I pushed open the door and was bombarded with the heavenly scent of coffee and more coffee. Ah, just what I needed.
"Hey, Bella!"
I didn't even have time to turn around before I was enveloped in a bone-crushing bear hug from behind. Wheezing, I gasped out, "Hi…Emmett…can't…breathe…"
"Emmett, let Bella go before you squeeze her head right off!"
"Oops, sorry!" Emmett let me go, and I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, taking in deep breaths. He was roughly the size of a small Yeti, so his enthusiastic hugs were somewhat…debilitating.
"It's ok," I said after another minute, slowly standing upright. I shot a grin at Rosalie, thankful that Emmett was so completely in love with her that he did anything she wanted, without fail. But she was the same way with him. Oh, to have such unconditional devotion… I sighed.
"So let me guess," Rosalie began, perfectly manicured hands on her hips. Rosalie was the kind of woman that made all other women think about joining a convent, where their bodies would constantly be covered from head to toe. Calling her drop-dead gorgeous was like calling the work of Van Gogh nice finger painting. Luckily I have known Rose since I came out of the womb--our mothers were best friends--so I had my entire life to get used to being Plain-Bella-Swan-Best-Friends-With-Gorgeous-Rosalie-Hale-Now-McCarty.
"You were on your way to work when you did some clumsy maneuver that ruined your skirt or top or some other fashion accessory, figured your tyrannical boss would already be livid, so you decided just screw it! You may as well get some coffee to make the day a little more bearable."
"Can't I just want to come in and say good morning to my best friend?" I asked innocently with wide eyes.
An uncertain gleam crossed her face before she returned it to her patented Rosalie smirk as she said, "No. Now what did you do?"
I made a face. "Ugh. Why do you always assume the worst?" When she just crossed her arms over her chest and raised a delicately plucked eyebrow, I heaved a sigh of annoyance and huffed out, "Fine! I ruined my shoes!" I took one off to show her.
Eyes widening in comic disbelief, she shrieked, "Bella! Do you have any idea how much those are worth?"
They aren't worth anything now, I wanted to say gleefully, but that was probably the wrong answer. Instead I shrugged indignantly. "It's not my fault! I told her not to buy me heels, but noooooo, she wouldn't listen!" I was growing more and more animated with each word, waving the shoe around crazily until it slipped from my fingers and flew backwards.
"Ouch!" someone cried from behind me.
I slowly turned around, horrified to see that my shoe was in the hands of the most beautiful man I had ever seen. A man whom was clutching his cheek. Oh dear god, I had hit him in the face with my shoe!
Rushing over to him, I cried in mortification, "I am so, so sorry! It just slipped from my hand!"
Despite the angry red mark on his face, he grinned at me. "Do you always wear your shoes on your hand?" He glanced down at the shoe in question, running a hand over the broken heel. "What kind of shoes are these, anyway?"
I snatched it away from him. "For your information, they're all the rage in Italy!" I retorted, slipping the shoe back on.
He shook his head, blonde curls bobbing slightly. "I actually just came from Italy. Never saw shoes like that before." He smirked at me, and I could feel my face grow hot with embarrassment and aggravation.
"Well, it's not my fault you are fashion challenged!" I snarled. I turned back to Rosalie, who was clutching onto Emmett's shoulder, both of them laughing uncontrollably. "Forget coffee! I'll see you later, Rose!" I threw one last contemptuous glare to the beautiful man--who mimed tipping a hat at my departure--and stormed past him out of the coffee shop.
I was thoroughly aware I was stomping like a little kid, but I didn't care. How humiliating--and irritating--was that? Ugh! That man was so…
Breathtakingly dazzling.
I knew my ridiculous indignation was uncalled for. He was, after all, victim to my clumsiness. But his good looks, velvety voice, and sense of humor threw me off so much that I knew if I didn't do something, I would have turned tomato red and melted into a puddle at his feet. Now that would have been embarrassing.
With a heavy sigh, I decided to push this morning's crazy events from my mind as I hurried down the street to take the inevitable wrath of my boss.
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Hahaha. Talk about making great first impressions! Don't worry, their interactions only get better from here… Thanks for reading!