A/N: I was meaning to upload this chapter earlier, but rewriting this story, as well as writing Because of You, might delay the chapters somewhat. Only by a few days, though. Bear with me.
Just a head's up, this story is complete, so it won't go back on hiatus.
And no, in answer to a PM, Celeste is not a self aware, conscious entity who is separate from Bella. Bella's not schizophrenic. Celeste is the whorish side to Bella's personality, who'd like her to return to her former wanton ways.
Oh, and thanks for all the faves and follows, guys. If I PM you to thank you for a fave, it's because I thank everyone who faves me. I'm not slyly guilting you into reviewing, but if you'd like to. . . :D
Annnnywho, chapter two. . .
Chapter 2
Party favors
Alice and Jasper's engagement party was being held in Alice's parent's backyard,and being early August, it was the perfect weather for it; the driest month of the year.
After being greeted by Mrs. Brandon at the front door, Rose and I were ushered through to the rear entrance of the house, where we found ourselves under a humongous white tent with hundreds of fairy lights twinkling overhead.
I sighed inwardly, muttering under my breath, "How fucking romantic." In which Rose turned to me with the beginnings of a smirk.
Glancing around, I scanned the forming crowds for Alice, when we suddenly heard her squeals only seconds before she propelled herself into both of us, simultaneously.
"Guuuuuuys!" she gushed after a frenzied moment of cheek kissing. "Oh my god, can you believe how great this looks?"
Rose and I shook our heads, emphatically, no.
"It's amazing, Al," Rose went on to add.
"It is! Dad, Jazz, Em and Edward were working on it all day." She turned to me, her tone immediately dropping to an over exaggerated whisper. "Speaking of whom, my soon-to-be-brother-in law only a few minutes ago asked me when you were coming." She winked and I knew that I had to exit-stage-left. She had that wicked gleam in her eye and I knew that if I didn't leave—effective immediately—she would single handedly announce my feelings, over loud speaker, for all the guests to hear.
"I'm getting a drink," I mumbled, too hastily, revealing the extent of my nervous psychosis, before stumbling in the general direction of the bar.
I'd just pulled my breathing back from its position of neurotic panic, when a shadow fell over me.
Edward; I'd know his presence anywhere.
"Hello, stranger—was wondering when you were going to show up." His deep voice washed out playfully over my temple, before he slung his arm around my shoulders, and I was suddenly shrouded in his god damn, sexy as all hell cologne.
And Celeste, the best-friend-stealing whore, moaned his name beneath my breath and my knees came close to buckling.
"Miss me would you?" It amazed me that I sounded so calm, considering that I was inhaling that scent deep into my lungs. But then I glanced up at him, and my heart screeched to an immediate halt—while I was almost positive the elastic in my knickers snapped.
Mother of God! I blinked several times, as if that was exactly who I was seeing.
Put Edward next to Jake and the majority of women, as well as a large percentage of Pastor's daughters—my category—would make an immediate beeline for Jake. Edward was handsome in a boyish way, almost as if it was by accident. He always had a perpetual twenty-four hour amount of stubble aligning his chin and jaw, while his hair was held together by those long fingers of his constantly pulling through it. He was the guy you noticed second, then wanted to kick yourself that you did. Because on closer inspection, tall, lean Edward Cullen was devastatingly handsome.
Forget the danger of his smile, when Edward took the time to put more of an effort in his appearance—like he had tonight—well needless to say, if all those women who'd first noticed Jake, saw what I was seeing, there'd be collective knicker compromising all over the world.
He smiled down at me in that charming way of his, where his brow was half cricked, as though he was trying to read my mind. Then his grin broadened and he removed his hand from around me and placed it on his heart. "My night would have been filled with loneliness and sorrow," he teased me, his tone too warm, seizing my gaze and holding it capture to his lips.
I pulled my eyes free—not confident speaking to him while they yearned to undress him as we stood there—before taking a barely controlled breath, and attempted to relax my shoulders. It was then that the smile conquered my expression and I scoffed, shaking my head. "You're a dork," I replied with genuine affection.
'Cause that's just how it was with us. He made me feel so at ease, despite every contradicting, primal urge within me.
He chuckled, before suddenly holding out a glass of wine for me. "Here you go—looking for one of these?"
I grinned wryly up at him, taking it from his hand. "Always a step ahead of me, aren't you?"
My eyes caught his only briefly, and the corners of his were just beginning to crinkle with the emergence of that hazardous smile. I couldn't gaze too long into his eyes; as much as I really could relinquish my sanity in them. I found that lately I broke out into spontaneous mind-fucking and he always enquired about my resulting full body blush.
As I took a moment to collect myself, I peripherally noticed that he'd turned his head from me as well, reaching up to rub the nape of his neck, his fingers running idly through the back of his hair.
I cleared my throat loudly, almost wishing I could unleash Celeste on him. At least then I wouldn't feel so constantly awkward around him.
"Want to grab a seat?" he asked turning to gaze down at me, his brow pulling high on his forehead, his smile slowly coming back into position.
"Umm . . . yeah, just let me congratulate your brother first. Where is he?"
Jesus, I could barely look at him without my blood instantly climaxing to the surface of my face.
He glanced around us before pointing his brother out a few seconds later.
I made my way over to Jasper on pathetically feeble and wobbly legs. The full impact of a spruced up Edward, leaning against me, was delayed until exactly that moment—after I'd allowed myself to take a deep breath in and slap Celeste back into the corner.
By the time I reached Jasper, I was close to turning into a puddle of water.
"Hey, Jazz!" I greeted him warmly, reaching up with one arm to embrace him quickly. "Congratulations!"
"Thanks, Bella—thanks for coming." Edward's brother smiled down at me with identical green eyes. "You might have to calm down Alice though; she's a little hyper tonight." His eyes immediately lit up and turned in the direction of his overzealous fiancé.
I laughed softly. "I think that ship's already sailed."
He chuckled in agreement, before asking, "Where's Jake? Did you guys come together?"
Tension crept up my spine at just the mere mention of his name. "He's not coming. He's . . . sick," I answered stiffly, not bothering to hide the aversion from my expression or tone.
Jasper's lip twitched a little. "Trouble in paradise?"
I laughed without a shred of humor. "Yeah, something like that."
His grin grew. He was one of many who found amusement at the idea of me and Jake, and I wondered if I'd ever get back any of the dignity I'd lost because of it.
"Just make sure to have fun tonight though, okay? Open bar." He winked.
Nodding, I held up my glass. "I intend to."
When I turned around to make my way back to Edward, my heart stalled for the second time in ten minutes. He was chatting to Alice. It was almost a comical sight—if I wasn't about to suffer a cerebral hemorrhage. Edward, a foot taller than Alice, towered over her, having to practically bend himself in half to hear what she was saying.
What was she saying? I wondered, contemplating a panic attack, as my heart thumped so heavily in my chest, I began to feel breathless.
She wouldn't, I told myself internally, holding firm to the trust I had in one of my closest friends with a pathetic amount of desperation.
I paused, summoning my courage, before proceeding toward the two of them, holding myself together as casually as I could. Abysmal failure, I could already feel my cheeks burning with the same intensity as if I'd been mind-fucking Edward, only this time it was because of genuine fear.
"Bells—guys, come and get a seat!" Alice exclaimed with excessive enthusiasm, grabbing my hand along with Edward's and pulling us over to an unoccupied—rather secluded—table for two.
I sighed beneath my breath, while Celeste added tinges of arousal to it, yet Edward sat down, seeming unfazed.
I took the seat opposite him, without knowing if I was reluctant or eager.
"You don't have a drink, Edward. What do you want? I'll grab you one!" Alice's tone and enthusiasm had gone up a notch, while the endless pummeling of my heart began inducing nausea.
"I can get—" Edward attempted to protest, but Alice was insistent. "A beer," he answered finally, and Alice—like the matchmaker on crack that she was—rushed off to get him one.
Edward waited until after she'd returned with his drink and left again, eyeing me dubiously the whole time, before he leaned his elbows on the table, hunching closer to me. "What's the matter, Bella?"
I swallowed thickly, again ironically wishing Celeste was in charge, instead of this nervous dyspeptic that was me. "Nothing. What makes you ask that?"
"You're distracted and you look. . ." he bunched up his brow in evident contemplation, "agitated. . ."
It was comforting to know that my infatuation-slash-horniness came across as agitation.
"I'm fine," I said simply.
"You're not," he countered.
I took a sip of my wine, wanting to skull it—if only for its chilling effects—and shrugged, but didn't offer a reply.
"Is it Jake?"
"Fuck Jake !" I spat.
A look of amusement flickered across his expression, before he cleared his throat. "Okay." He took a mouthful of beer from the plastic cup in front of him, but it didn't extinguish his smile.
It pissed me off that he laughed at me so often. As if he didn't take as single thing I said seriously; as if he didn't take me seriously.
I scoffed at myself internally. Who in their right mind would take me seriously? As Jake's girlfriend for the last four years, I'd lost all credibility.
"Shut up, Edward." I sighed, staring down into my half-full wine cup.
"Is this about him not coming? 'Cause he really is sick, you know."
Of course he'd defend him. What did I expect? He'd been defending Jake for as long as I'd known him.
"Edward. . ." I blurted out in frustration, before I lost the momentum, "it's not about Jake, so please just drop it." It was only half a lie, I told myself, before looking up and meeting Edward's pensive gaze.
He smiled at me warmly and without reservation and I wanted to cry.
I could not fathom my life without him in it—even as the goofy best friend of my imbecile, man-stud boyfriend. So how in god's name was I going to be able to let him go?
The emotion of it was beginning to burn in my throat, but stubbornly I held it back, swallowing past it, before taking a wavering breath. When I braved a peep at Edward, his smile had waned and had turned sad, while there was something that clouded behind his eyes that appeared almost like stirring anger.
He leaned closer to me again, motioning for me to do the same. "Want to get drunk?" he teased me gently, and that was enough to sever my melancholy completely.
I expelled my breath, breaking into an easy smile. "Yes, but not tonight. Tomorrow?"
"Deal," he replied, before grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the table. "Come on, let's dance."
He'd already dragged me to the dance floor before I could protest, but I voiced my concerns nonetheless. "Edward—you know I have two left feet."
"I know." He grinned to himself, as if he enjoyed torturing me. "Just stop whining and loosen up." And with that he placed both his hands on my hips, effectively rendering all resistance void.
Edward, like the irresistible dork that he was, danced before me, trying to get me to swing my hips along with him. It was pointless; I didn't have a coordinated bone in my body. But the more awkwardly I moved the broader that grin became until I was forced to look down and bite my bottom lip to push the pornographic thoughts into submission. Though, he didn't seem to notice that it was him who made me distracted and agitated.
Chuckling, he grabbed me by the hand, pulling me swiftly against his chest, before curving his hand around my waist; leading me playfully back and forth in an impromptu waltz.
I was becoming caught up in my feet and yet I couldn't stop laughing. That was apart from being completely immersed by the sound of his.
God, I loved his laugh.
"Edward—stop!" I finally managed.
So he did.
"Okay, I'm going to get another drink—want one? He raised his voice, despite leaning in closer to my ear, making Celeste immediately stir, while I all but swayed.
"Yeah," I replied, my smile involuntary.
I stood practically dazed, watching him maneuver through the crowds, until another voice, inches from my ear, snapped me immediately from my salacious thoughts, and making me jump in surprise.
"I think it's safe to say that Edward would fuck you right here on the dance floor if he could find a way around it."
Rose!
I whipped around to meet her all-knowing smirk and had the sudden urge to start all out giggling. Instead, I feigned ignorance. "W-what do you mean?"
She arched a cynical brow at me. "Oh, you know very well, Celeste."
My only reply was a rapidly emerging case of hives, as my nerve endings began exploding one by one, at the very idea of it, when she turned me in the direction of a large group of guys; Jazz being in the center of them. "See over there? It's all the guys, and you'd think, as Jasper's brother, Edward would be amongst that group. But he's not, because he's with you, while the two of you are seeing who can gaze into each other's eyes the longest."
"We-we're just dancing," I stammered, as my hand came up and subconsciously grabbed my heart, and my left breast.
"Dancing. . ." she echoed dubiously, grabbing my hand free, before her eyes flickered passed me, just moments before Edward's arm appeared over my shoulder, holding out another plastic cup of wine.
He'd caught me off guard, and with the notion that he'd just over heard Rose's conversation with me, I was rendered instantly flustered and overheated.
Taking the cup from him, I took a quick, clumsy gulp, while Edward, instead of removing his arm, left it draped over my shoulder; leaning into me slightly.
Oh god. . .
I avoided Rose's smug, confident gaze by drawing the cup in front of my face and taking a larger gulp.
"Hey, Rose, want a drink?" Edward asked.
"Aren't you sweet, but no thanks. I'm good. I'm biding my time before they serve the food."
"Good idea," Edward replied, before guiding me off the dance floor—without removing his arm.
Groaning internally, and wantonly, I downed the rest of my wine.
A circulation of warmth began to flow through me. I wasn't sure if it was Edward or the wine, but what I did know was that the desire building within me was becoming agonizing. "Yeah, I need to e-eat," I stuttered, "—and use the restroom."
Ducking beneath the weight of his arm, I darted off in the direction of the house, pulling Rose along with me.
When we reached the bathroom, I locked the door and walked over to the basin, leaning my hands heavily on the counter; trying to stave off the imminent presence of tears.
"I didn't realize how hard this would be," I confessed, my voice softly wavering, before I turned my head to glance at Rose. "It's killing me."
"Have you told him you broke up with Jake?" she put to me.
I shook my head, staring down into the sink.
She paused for a moment, while I concentrated on reining in the threat of all out sobbing; stubbornly refusing to allow a single tear escape.
"Remember when I said I'd be brutally honest—even if I had to tell you something that you didn't want to hear?" Her tone was serious.
I looked up and met her unusually serious gaze through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. "Yeah?"
"You have two options, Bells. Tell him how you feel or let him go, because he's got it bad for you!"
With my skin suddenly alight and buzzing, I turned fully to face her. "You . . . think?" I asked, my voice practically a whisper, while I was pretty sure my bra just went the way of my knickers and self-sacrificed!
Rose's response was her typical smirk, before her eyes rolled deliberately. "I'd be surprised if your name isn't tattooed on his ass!"
I moaned; I was suddenly as horny as a tomcat. In fact, I had to press my lips together tightly to suppress if from becoming inappropriate—not that Rose would mind. But before it had fully died from my lips the tone of it deepened with irritation. Dragging my palm across my brow, I clawed at it with my fingertips. "Yeah—but that doesn't help me, Rose. Fuck it—why does he have to be so . . . so—" I broke off, grunting out my frustration loudly.
She grinned at me shrewdly, before half shrugging. "It's why they make movies out of it."
I threw the washcloth at her.
Thankfully, by the time we reemerged from the house, Edward had found his way over with the guys and seemed happy to remain with them.
Rose and I sat ourselves at a large table with several people that were all being entertained by Alice, who by that point, was pretty merry.
"You!" she pointed a finger at me, her expression manic, her voice rising several cringe-worthy decibels. "How did I not notice you and Edward before? Oh. My. God!"
Every pair of eyes at the table turned to rest on me, just as my cheeks spontaneously combusted.
I elbowed Rose; it was purely pre-emptive.
In the next instant, Alice pulled Rose and me into a huddle, giggling like crazy. "Bells, freaking hell—what a dilemma!" Her giggling was turning deranged, without any indication that it was about to drop in volume.
"Yes, thanks, Als, for the reminder." My tone was dry, but I wasn't angry, despite the continued charge of mortification causing heat stroke in my veins.
"You have to tell him! It's so obvious with him—you have to give it a chance!"
Rose made a smug sound into her drink while I flinched. Alice's tone was still hovering a decibel below shouting.
"Shhhh—okay! I'll think about it," I replied in a harsh whisper, "but only if you promise to not mention it again tonight."
"Ok-kay, I promise." She hiccupped, before bursting into a half smothered squealing sound.
Rolling my eyes, I promptly sent her over to her other guests, before she suddenly announced loudly, "LOVE IS IN THE AIR!"
I didn't release my breath, or unlock my spine until I could no longer hear her voice through the crowd, while eyeing her like a buzzard to make sure that she didn't make a beeline in Edward's direction.
"Get me a fucking drink before I have a coronary," I muttered, before turning back around, only to be faced with Emmett and Rose smacking lips, while Emmett was barely concealing the fact that he was feeling her up beneath the table.
Emmett was Alice's older brother and Rose's sometimes fuck buddy. Or, to use Rose's own words "her back up plan in case she ever forgot to pack her vibrator".
I cleared my throat deliberately. Rose only cocked open an eye at me but continued schmoozing with Emmett while her lips curved into a smirk.
"Crass, much?" I huffed, getting out of the chair to go in search of alcohol.
"Oh, hey, Bells," Emmett slurped an incoherent greeting to me, his tongue quite obviously occupied.
Shuddering, I quickened my step.
Somehow, and in keeping with the theme of the night, I found myself being drooled over by half drunken, obscure relatives of the bride and groom to be. One letch, who informed me that his name was Gavin Slavin, and a second cousin of Alice's, made no secret that he was staring down at my cleavage—to the point that he began making lewd innuendos regarding what size bra I was wearing, before I made my escape.
Over the following hour things improved only slightly when I became entrapped by Alice's Nanna; who offered to give me a private slide show viewing of her latest trip to Florida. I fully suspected she had the slides—complete with projector—stashed in her purse, in the event that unsuspecting humans, like me, wandered too close to her. When I politely declined, citing optical reasons—okay, I lied and said I was short-sighted and I'd left my glasses at home—she demonstrated that she was in fact apart of Alice's gene pool, by arranging for me to dance with her recently divorced grandson, Kevin Slavin.
Kevin Slavin turned out to be Gavin's less appropriate brother; which he quickly confirmed by asking if I'd like to accompany him for some extra-curricular activity in his car. Either Kevin was under the misapprehension that being set up for a dance by your grandmother equated consent for sex, or slide show enthusiast, Nanna Slavin, went by the name of Madam Slavin after hours. Either which, my knee was about to engage in some extra-curricular activity with Kevin's testicles, when he was suddenly intercepted by Edward.
"Thought you could use some rescuing," he said, his grin growing broad with amusement, before taking my hand and drawing me closer than I'd allowed Kevin Slavin to venture.
As usual, he'd taken me completely by surprise, causing my distraction-slash-agitation, to promptly go into overdrive. My only response was some unintelligible utterance, while my face burst into flames and Celeste shook her maracas.
Edward, ever oblivious, only chuckled softly and pulled me even closer.
Good god. . .
Leaning further into him, I cleared my throat, in the hand that was wrapped around his shoulder, and inadvertently caught myself completely entranced by the smell of him. His cologne was intermingled with the smell of beer, and the woody scent of him, and this time Celeste completely and expeditiously came out to play. Furthermore, to add insult to ridiculously cruel injury, it was perfectly timed with the change from pop music to love songs, over the loudly blaring jukebox. The nail in the coffin was, of course, when the twinkling fairy lights overhead dimmed.
Fuck my life!
I immediately felt Edward tense and shift his weight for a moment, before he tightened his grip on my waist. I left my chin resting gently on his shoulder, while I willed myself into a less wanton state of mind, when he turned his head and spoke; his lips almost grazing the ignited skin of my neck, "You going to tell me what's bothering you, Miss Swan?" His words were slowed slightly, and his breath was accompanied by the musty smell of beer.
"You going to stop bothering me, Mr. Cullen?" I murmured against his shoulder.
"Mmmm, nup," he replied lightly, and as his breath washed out over me, I closed my eyes, picturing the smile I knew was encroaching his features.
Sighing reluctantly, I pulled back to look at him. My mind had not done that smile of his justice; though, I suspected that was for the self-preservation of my knickers.
"Well then, I don't know what to say," I said simply, before I smiled up at him affectionately, because slightly drunk Edward was my Friday night best friend long before I fell in love with him, and it was a natural reaction.
He pouted, before that charming smile of his quickly returned. "Okay, I'll see if I can guess."
"Kay."
He glanced away, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in contemplation and the carnal energy romping through my veins suddenly intensified. He was so god damned beautiful that I wanted to whisper it in his ear—then suck on his earlobe.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I quickly forced back Celeste.
He turned back to me, his lips twitching. "You broke a finger nail?"
I threw him a wry grin and nudged him playfully. I nudged him playfully with my hips—straight into his groin, and I honestly wasn't sure whether it was inadvertent, subconscious, or the Red Sea parting prostitute, Celeste.
His eyes closed for a moment, his forehead puckering, as a husky sounding groan hummed softly from his throat. It elicited such a raging fire of lust to course through me that it quickly manifested itself as emotion. Emotion because this man before me meant the world to me, and I was going to lose him, and I'd never experience the pleasure of being able to act upon the desire he brought out in me. Or, maybe it was just because the damn melancholic music that was continuing to play over the jukebox was making me want to cry, but just then, and for the first time in my life, I truly felt like my heart was breaking.
Michael Bolton was sounding typically suicidal in his quest to overcome his lost love that I suddenly wanted to shout out—like a complete lunatic, "I don't know how you're going to live without her—just shut the fuck up, already!"
Naturally, I didn't. Celeste would never allow me to make an idiot of myself in the event that it would be detrimental to her chances of getting some action. So instead, and without thinking, I leaned into Edward again, resting my forehead against his shoulder, just as the first sob shuddered out from me.
Edward immediately stopped to a standstill.
"Hey?" he whispered. His voice was a mixture of tenderness and concern, and spoken over the whiney, depressing music, it only made the tears flow more freely. "Bella . . . ?"
Releasing my hand, he enfolded me completely against him, before he tentatively led us off the dance floor. I only clung to him as my legs moved clumsily with his, until he held me tighter in his arms; taking most of my weight.
Try as I might I couldn't put a stop to the hot, salty tears from spilling down my cheeks—which was pathetic considering I usually wasn't much of a wimp. But they'd completely overtaken me and I was drowning in them.
I concentrated desperately on anything but the pain clenching in my chest in an attempt to get myself under some kind of control. I focused on the sound of his footsteps as they stepped from concrete to sodden earth; the sound of air drawing and expelling from his lungs, and the steady beat of his heart behind them. But none of it could mask what was stemming the tears; the heartache of being so close to him, yet knowing in reality, we were worlds apart. Knowing soon I'd have to say goodbye.
So I just surrendered to them.
We'd stopped walking and Edward tentatively guided me down on a garden bench that I quickly realized was at the very rear of the yard, and away from the crowds of the party. I clumsily wiped my face dry, then glanced around me, taking large lungful's of fresh air, hoping it would snap some sense into me. I hated being so damn pathetic!
Edward took both my hands gently in his, and I turned to him; he was sitting beside me angled so that he was facing me.
"Talk to me, Bella," he said softly his eyes canvassing mine, his brows furrowing deeply, before he squeezed my hands gently in encouragement.
I shook my head, partly to free myself from the emotion that was controlling me, and partly in response to him. Because I didn't know what to say, and I was embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to lose the plot on such a grand scale.
Taking a weary breath, I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll be Okay."
He sighed, his alcohol fused breath washing over me and bringing goose bumps to the surface of my skin. I shivered; though, it could have been Celeste vibrating.
"Bella, I know this has something to do with Jake." He inched closer to me, until our knees brushed lightly together.
"How do you know?" I asked him, breaking contact with his eyes. The intensity in them was unnerving me.
"Because when you're upset, he's always behind it—so, what did he do to you now?"
I inhaled ready to scoff, a sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue, but it died instantly as he reached over and wiped a strand of my hair delicately behind my shoulder. His touch was like a shooting star shining bright for a fleeting moment before leaving darkness in its wake. And because I was already campaigning for pity party of the century, it wasn't surprising when my eyes welled pitifully with fresh tears. It also didn't help that he was looking at me with that tender, empathetic smile on his lips.
"It's not him this time, Edward. It's me," I admitted, looking down, the tone of my voice rising with frustration. Pulling my hands from the warmth of his, I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, rubbing them roughly. "Look at me," I added bitterly. "I'm pitiful!"
Again, he took my hands in his, as if preventing me from further assaults against myself, and when I looked up at him, his smile was pulling crookedly into amusement. "You're not pitiful, Bella."
I huffed, my face clouding darkly. "You're always laughing at me!" I accused him, my frustration peaking.
"I'm not laughing at you," he insisted, his tone deep and earnest, only that charming grin on his face immediately contradicted him—and he knew it. "It's just . . . you're so damned adorable sometimes."
Hello!
I only stared at him, my mind erased instantly of cognitive thought, while my mouth fell agape; somewhere down near my self-sabotaging knickers. I sucked in my bottom lip to make sure I still had control over it, before clearing my throat to speak—only I had no words.
He thinks I'm adorable?
Exactly two seconds later, my voice returned, but was compromised again by tears that were now on a free fall trajectory down my face. "You can't say that to me, Edward."
He leaned closer, enveloping me in the warmth of his body heat, before reaching up to gently wipe away my tears with the back of his fingers. "Why not? It's true," he replied softly.
I closed my eyes and with the tears continuing to slip beneath my lashes, I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Why is it, Edward," I began, my voice more of a mess than the tears should have allowed for, "that you find me adorable, but my boyfriend doesn't?"
And why is it that I'd just asked him that question?
He wrapped his arm around my waist securely, before I felt his lips press gently against the top of my head, and his breath wash heavily over me as he expelled it into a deep sigh. "Because, your boyfriend is a dickhead."
There was a definite hard edge to his tone that surprised me. I pushed myself from his chest, then stubbornly wiped my tears away, before meeting his gaze, squarely. His eyes were dark, burning with what looked like a storm of emotions, while there was a trace of vulnerability puckering in his brow.
"Edward, why don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked him gently, honestly.
Because, why didn't he?
He broke into that grin, all askew and boyish, before he looked down for a moment, then locked his gaze with mine. "It's a bit hard to find one when I spend my weekends with a gorgeous brunette."
My heart really began hammering, echoing through me and causing my breath to go shallow. Yet I only stared at him, watching that vulnerability deepen in his eyes as he held my gaze.
Eventually, I raised my hand and cupped it softly to his cheek. "Do I get in the way?" I whispered.
He removed my hand from his face, bringing it to his lips and quickly shook his head. "No, I actually prefer to just hang with you—and Jake," he stammered and his brow etched slightly again.
I felt myself going tense and bit down on my lower lip, until I was positive it would bleed, to stop myself from doing anything impulsive. Edward's expression had completely fallen; he looked lost almost, and it brought out an almost irresistible urge to kiss him.
Something Celeste was rabidly cheering on.
I didn't kiss him; instead, I blurted out possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever said to him, "Edward, are you . . . gay?"
He immediately pulled himself to his feet, in one angry movement, and when he turned to glower at me, it was obvious that he wasn't only offended by my question; he was hurt. "What?! No, I'm not gay!"
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, immediately remorseful, jumping to my feet alongside him. "I-I don't really know why that came out of my mouth. . ." I let my words trail off, because I honestly didn't.
He huffed, his face remaining clouded. "Why would you think I'm gay, Bella?"
I didn't really think he was, but there were a lot of question marks that an outsider might consider. So, I put them to him, all the while my eyes pleading with him to forgive me. "You've had one girlfriend in four years and you hang out with me and—" I broke off abruptly. It was the opposite of what I'd meant to say, and I was digging myself a grave with every word I spoke.
And Edward definitely understood my meaning as well. He scoffed out a sarcastic half laugh, and answered with a lowered, angry tone, "Because I haven't fucked my best friend's girlfriend, you think I'm gay."
Oh god. . .
I shook my head adamantly, trying to gather my thoughts into some form of coherency to better explain myself. I knew what I'd said was completely unintentional, but it came out sounding incredibly conceited. He'd never made a move on me; therefore, I thought he was gay?
The thought of it made me cringe.
Inadvertently, what I really wanted to know was if he felt the same way I felt about him—without having to ask him outright. I had no idea why I'd breached the sexuality question when I'd never contemplated the possibility of it before.
"You think I have no self-control, Bella?" By this point he was genuinely pissed off.
I couldn't blame him, really. What did it say about me—that I judged our friendship on his sexuality?
I took a drawn out breath and dropped my gaze from his, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry, Edward. I don't think you're gay at all. It wasn't what I meant to say."
He exhaled deeply and from his shadow cast on the ground, I watched as he dragged his hand back through his hair. "What did you mean to say then?" he asked, his tone losing some of its edge.
I shook my head, knowing there was absolutely no way in the universe that I could tell him, so I improvised, "I don't know. I guess I was wondering why someone as amazing as you hasn't been snapped up yet."
Okay—that was not what I'd meant to say, either.
I groaned loudly beneath my breath, fighting it from becoming audible, and almost didn't hear the quick, amused sounding scoff that he made.
Note to self: never try to have a heartfelt conversation with the man I was secretly in love with, after several glasses of cheap wine.
"Just ignore me," I muttered, slowly raising my eyes sheepishly to meet his. "I'm sorry."
He slung his arm back over my shoulder and pulled me back against his side. It was a gesture based entirely on friendship, and I was well aware of it. I'd killed all his former tenderness with my utter stupidity.
"The question isn't whether I'm gay, Bella, it's what's going on with you." His voice was warm, but guarded.
Fuck, I'd really offended him, and my panic over it quickly manifested itself as frustration.
"Edward, are you going to hold a grudge against me? I said I didn't mean it!" I jerked my shoulder, shoving his arm from around me; he let it fall to his side without resistance.
I was screwing it up so badly I wanted to cry again, and unless I found something to smack my forehead into, I knew I undoubtedly would. I closed my eyes and rubbed my brow with my fingertips, in an effort to keep myself in control. I was flustered and unsure of myself—as well as him—and it was slowly picking me apart.
"Do you want to tell me what's got you riled up, Bella, or do you want to eat?" I knew I was definitely pushing him away by the flat tone of his voice.
I had no fucking idea what I was doing, or what I was supposed to say or feel. I felt completely lost and disorientated.
"I'm sorry, Edward," I mumbled again, fearing I was about to lose to the welling tears again—pathetically!
He exhaled forcefully in a good natured, frustrated kind of way, before bending down to me. His hot, beer scented breath washed over my ear—immediately sounding Celeste's beacon. "Apologize one more time and you will be," he teased me.
Struggling with my distraction-slash-agitation, I eventually admitted, without emotion, "I broke up with Jake today."
He paused, his eyes turning dark as he contemplated it. However, the longer he gauged me the more his expression became a cynical smirk, until his reply reflected it. He snorted, completely dismissing me. "Yeah, okay—how long for this time?"
Okay he had a point. Jake and I had broken up so many times in the past that I'd lost count, but I still couldn't contain my anger that, this time, was very real. "What did you think was going to happen with Jake and me, Edward? That we'd end up getting married, then you and I would hang out baking cookies and raising my babies, while Jake continues screwing half the country?"
This appeared to surprise him, so much so that he seemed to blurt the next words out without making a conscious decision to do so. "You know about that?"
I scoffed dryly. "Of course I know. Seems you do too."
His mouth fell open and he blinked several times before severing his gaze from mine, suddenly looking incredibly uncomfortable—and guilty.
He'd validated what I already knew, anyway.
"Bella . . . I. . ." he left it unspoken before reaching up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes everywhere but on me.
I shook my head lightly. "Edward, it's okay. I realize what a position it put you in. I don't blame you or anything . . . for not telling me. I pretty much knew all along, anyway."
When his eyes met mine again, a deeply furrowing brow accompanied them. He was confused. "Why . . . did you stay with him for—i-if you knew?"
I shrugged my shoulders with feigned indifference. I wanted to scream it out that he was the reason why, that he meant the world and back to me—one hundred times more than Jake ever did. But that was exactly what I couldn't say. He himself had used the term, 'my best friend's girlfriend', and it had spoken volumes.
"I don't know . . . denial? Plus, I didn't want to have to let . . . everything else go, as well," I mumbled, dropping my gaze from him. It wasn't exactly a lie, and I felt suddenly exposed.
"Everything else?" he prompted me after a moment of silence.
I shrugged again, as if it meant nothing to me, instead of the complete opposite. "We had a lot of good times, you, me . . . and Jake."
His lips twitched upwards a fraction before he smiled fully to himself. "That we did," he admitted.
"I'm gonna miss it," I whispered, feeling the suffocating pressure of tears again and wanting to stamp my feet impatiently at myself.
He had his head bowed, sucking on the inside of his cheeks, seemingly in thought. Eventually he nodded and when he looked up his eyes were burning, serious.
"Bella—" he began, but I interjected not willing to risk the conversation bridging the topic of where this now left him and me.
I just needed one more night.
"Let's get something to eat. If I keep drinking on an empty stomach things will get ugly." I attempted to keep my tone light as I took his hand playfully in mine and pulled him back toward the party, but it was all a charade. I had to forcibly keep the emotion out of my voice and the tears from breaking free.
I guess, I really was in love, because never in my life had I ever felt so pitiful.
Edward didn't seem so willing to hang out with me for dinner, so I suggested he go hang with the boys, and I found my way to Rose. She was chatting with Emmett in between nibbling on her food, but the moment I sat beside her, her attention immediately zeroed in on me.
"You look all weepy. Did you tell him? What happened?"
I tensed, knowing Emmett was all ears beside her, and clearing my throat, I shifted my eyes in his direction discreetly, conveying my concern.
She rolled hers over exaggeratingly. "I can tell you now that Emmett really doesn't give a shit."
The scent her breath was shrouded in quickly told me that she was drunk. It was always tricky to tell with Rose, because she never lost her composure.
"I don't? About what?" Emmett enquired, his eyebrows pulling together with sudden curiosity.
I shook my head to dismiss him when Rose suddenly out-did Alice—and Nanna Slavin—in one go.
"Bella's in love with Edward."
In that drunken moment, she'd revealed the one thing that I'd kept closest to my heart the past two years; the one thing that could truly break me.
I let my head drop into my hands and groaned loudly, and—in my frustration—decided to feign over dramatized sobbing.
"Edward? As in the brother of my soon to be in-law?" I heard Emmett ask with genuine uncertainty.
"How many Edwards do you know, you idiot!?" was Rose's reply, heard barely above the increased volume of my continued drawn out groan.
"Well, did you tell him or not?" And just to add to my torture her voice rose a few decibels.
"No!" I tried yelling at her beneath my breath, but my voice only came out in a strangled whisper.
"I can tell him, Bella," Emmett offered sounding completely sincere.
"Oh my god—do it and die!" I threatened him sounding completely flustered in my sudden panic and desperation. "What is this, tenth grade?"
"Nope, it's like sand through the hourglass. . ." Rose smirked like the evil wench she was before she began humming the theme music.
I only glared at her, incredulous and past all patience, before I turned to Emmett. "Rose thinks you're the best fuck she's ever had, and you make her want to whinny like a horse. And if you tell a soul about Edward, I will let it slip to the entire fucking universe that you cry when you come."
I stormed to my feet and headed toward the buffet table with the sound of Rose choking on her food trailing behind me. I only hoped that both of them were too drunk to remember any of it in the morning. Emmett for obvious reasons, and Rose because I genuinely feared her reprisals.
I passed Alice and knew I'd have to avoid her for the rest of the night, because the moment she spotted me she chorused to all around her that I was her future sister in-law. I was actually sure she was about to refer to me as "Mrs. Cullen", when she suddenly broke off snorting into hysterical laughter. I hurried my step, wanting to stick both my fingers in my ears and start shouting, 'lalalalalala'; instead, I cringed my way to the buffet table and ran into one of the Slavin brothers. I wasn't sure which, they both looked like the same breed of sleazy, garden variety encyclopedia of sex salesmen that entered one's home for the sole purpose of ogling one's rack without apology.
"No, I do not want to accompany you to your car for some extra-curricular activity!" I burst preemptively, gritting my teeth, ready to take out his balls.
"I'm sorry? But, hey, that's not a bad idea, now that you mention it," he drawled, speaking exclusively to my cleavage.
Snatching up a half-empty cup, I promptly and unceremoniously splashed its contents over his crotch.
He let out a girly shriek, and jerkily leaped away from me.
"Oh dear, you seemed to have soiled yourself," I commented loudly, my tone a poorly acted rendition of sympathy, before turning my back on him, huffing loudly.
This is when I found myself staring into Edward's highly amused eyes.
He was chuckling to himself before he took a sip from the beer he was holding. Even as his lips were pressed to the bottle, that all-encompassing grin continued to curve with it. Even after he'd turned his eyes away from me and resumed chatting with the boys, it remained on his face, taunting me—taunting Celeste!
So there was nothing left to be done. I got drunk.
A/N: So what are your thoughts? Reckon Edward has the hots for Bella too? Or is he just being a very attentive gentleman?