Chapter 2: House of Cards
Dedication: To jadedandboring... the reason I'm writing Roseward...and that I'm about to quote TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT. I'm beginning to think our relationship is unhealthy.
"The way you move is like a full on rainstorm
And I'm a house of cards
You say my name for the first time, baby, and I
Fall in love in an empty bar
And you stood there in front of me just
Close enough to touch
Close enough to hope you couldn't see
What I was thinking of,"
~Sparks Fly, Taylor Swift
"Edward, come on. Do me a solid," Jasper begged for the umpteenth time that hour.
Growling, Edward set down his beer and glared at his best friend. "For the life of me, I can't figure out why this is so important to you, man."
Jasper groaned. "This girl... this girl has me ... verklempt."
Edward pressed his lips into a thin line, trying not to laugh at his friend. "I don't think that word means what you think it means," he said flatly. He considered for a moment. "I mean, it works... but only very vaguely."
"Oh, Christ. Decide whether you're an English teacher or an athlete, please," Jasper groused.
"I'm not an athlete. And I think that's...what, Yiddish?" Edward tapped his chin, pretending to think.
"You work with athletes. They get their dumb athlete germs all over you. Anyway, this is all beside the point, jackass," Jasper said dryly, throwing a Frito at Edward's head.
"The girl has you by the short and curlies. Continue," Edward said, waving his hand.
The blond man grimaced. "Long story real short? Alice is Rosalie's only friend."
"Gee, I wonder why," Edward drawled sarcastically.
Jasper glared warningly. "Alice doesn't want to do the whole thing where she gets into a relationship and ditches her friends."
"I'm missing what this has to do with me," Edward said impatiently.
"Alice has this vision in her head of a Friends type relationship. You know, like all of us being one big, happy group? She likes you a lot."
"And I like her," Edward said honestly.
"Would it kill you to give Rose a chance?"
Edward's irritation flared. He and Rose had been thrown together a number of times in the two months Jasper and Alice had been dating. It hadn't gone well. Ever. "Jasper, because you were - apparently - too busy looking at your girlfriend's ass - which I'll admit, is quite nice - let me summarize each and every interaction I've had with that woman."
He put up both of his hands. He faced his right hand toward his left and craned his left hand around, looking anywhere but his right. "Hello again, Rosalie," he said with his right hand. He remained silent for a moment as he let his left hand peer around. "Have you noticed the price of bread has dropped?" his right hand asked. His left hand froze, then turned sharply toward the right. "Drop dead, prick!" he shouted in a shrill voice, fiercely attacking his right hand with his left. He looked up at Jasper, holding his palms out.
His friend's answer stare could only be described as withering. "Rosalie takes some getting used to, but she's really not that bad. Funny even, in that sarcastic kind of way. She's just a little ... spiky."
"She hates me, Jasper. I have no idea what I did to her, but she hates me for it all the same." Edward was unconcerned about this fact.
Jasper snorted. "See, I think you're full of shit."
"About what?" Edward asked, eyebrow arched.
"See, I know you. When you think someone isn't worth your time, you ignore them completely." He tilted his head, smiling at Edward with a mock curious grin. "So tell me, dear Edward. How bad could Rosalie be if you care about her enough to argue with her?"
Edward narrowed his eyes, glaring at his best friend. "Jasper, seeing arguing as a sign of attraction is a bit of a stretch."
Jasper's answering smile was smug. "Edward," he said sweetly, "I didn't say anything about attraction."
Grumbling, Edward hunkered down further in his seat, displaying an uncharacteristic slouch. "Have it your way. To answer your original question, yes, I will cancel all my plans so we can have an ever important movie night. I didn't realize you being whipped would be this annoying for me."
~0~
Rosalie was torn between being entirely amused and feeling vaguely ill by the intense game of tonsil hockey that was going on only a short distance across the room from her.
The evening had started off well enough. Jasper and Alice were adorable together and fun to watch when they weren't trying to have sex with their clothes on. They'd managed to make it through dinner and the first quarter of the movie without getting gross. Well, even she could admit that Jasper was a stunningly attractive man. She supposed it was only understandable that Alice couldn't go for more than a half an hour without touching some intimate part of him.
"Well, I tried my best."
Quirking an eyebrow, Rosalie turned slightly to look at Edward. It seemed the movie was being completely ignored by all in the room. Alice and Jasper, on the La-Z-Boy, were too busy groping each other. Apparently, their Rated R peep show was a train wreck situation - neither Rosalie nor Edward, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, could seem to look away.
"I picked Mr. and Mrs. Smith because Jasper has a thing for Angelina Jolie kicking people's asses but I forgot about the dominatrix outfit. Just a little bit too much stimuli for the poor boy," he said, his voice regretful.
Rosalie snickered. "Not for nothing but isn't it against the guy code to know what rocks your best guy friend's boat? Is there something you need to tell me because I have an obligation to Alice."
A warmth blossomed in the pit of her stomach, spreading through her chest and tingling at the tips of her fingers when he grinned at her. Her eyes dropped down to the bowl of popcorn in her hands, and she reflected that she'd probably had too much wine - it was making her face hot. She rubbed at her shoulder absently. "It's a little blasphemous if you ask me," she said, finding it easier to look back at the couple than at Edward. "You do not make out to the tune of Brad and Angelina."
Edward scoffed. "I wouldn't risk it, personally. They're like talismans for fertility."
"Oh, you poor boy," she snickered. "You can't knock a girl up with your mouth."
Looking at her, Edward winked. "Maybe I'm just that talented."
Nerves followed the thrill that rushed through her then, and Rosalie again found herself absently rubbing her shoulder and avoiding his gaze. She felt the familiar spark of irritation. They'd been getting along okay for a change. Was he going to ruin it by flirting? Why the fuck men had such one track minds was beyond her.
But then, she was probably just overreacting. Edward had never tried to get her into bed, after all.
"Hey, why don't we move this party to my bedroom?" Edward suggested.
"Excuse me?"
Edward rolled his eyes. "Relax. I mean, let's give them some privacy. If they're going to defile the La-Z-Boy, I don't want to be here to see it. My room is plenty big enough for the both of us. We can finish watching the movie."
Reluctantly, Rosalie agreed. She tried to tell herself that her fear was irrational. It was a little awkward to be in a boy's bedroom for the first time no matter the age or the circumstance. It made her nervous, and her body was automatically on alert, waiting for Edward to try something. It was stupid given that Edward, despite the fact he was a complete prick, was a consummate gentleman, and, if worse came to worse, she knew how to defend herself and Alice and Jasper were just one scream away...
Hands on her shoulders made Rosalie recoil so quickly she actually stood. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she hissed.
He looked perplexed. "Your shoulder is hurting," he said as if this should explain everything.
"What?"
"You're in pain. I've been watching you rub it all night. I do this for a living. Let me help you," he said, reaching out with his hands again.
"I don't need your help," she snarled, her mouth working more on instinct and nerves still.
His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked like he was going to snap right back at her, but something stopped him. "Alright," he said slowly. "No touchy-touchy. I get it." He scooted back on the bed until he was propped up against the headboard, his hands on his lap.
She hated the look he gave her then, the knowing look. It was the look she saw when she gave too much of her fear away. It made her skin crawl, feeling dirty and marked... like he knew. And fuck that. She wasn't going to be afraid. She wasn't going to let fear control her. Taking a deep breath, she sat back down on the bed. "Fuck it. Do it," she commanded before she could lose her nerve. "Please," she added as an afterthought.
At first he didn't move, but then he slowly crawled over the bed toward her. Even though she was expecting it, Rosalie couldn't help but give a little start when his hands touched her neck. She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose as she tried to relax.
There was something unbelievably sensual about the way he touched her. He swept her hair off one shoulder and onto the other. His fingers began at her neck, firm but gentle as he followed the line from her hairline to her shoulder. "I'm glad you let me help," he said, his voice a rumble near her ear that sent shivers down her spine. "Even people with less physically demanding jobs can injure themselves quite severely without knowing it." As he spoke he began to work her muscles with his long, strong fingers. Rosalie's breath caught. It was painful but it was exquisite, his ministrations working out kinks deep beneath her skin.
"Oh, my God," Rosalie murmured, her voice a moan.
"Feels better, right?" he asked, his fingers still working.
"Yes. That feels incredible," she admitted.
"It's not a bad idea, in your line of work, to invest in a deep tissue massage on a regular basis. It will be more cost effective than ending up needing rehab," he continued. He brushed his hand along her arm, and Rosalie tensed briefly as his fingers grasped hers. She relaxed again when he simply drew her arm out. "Hear this?" he asked, apparently oblivious to her momentary distress as he bent her arm back slightly.
"The click? That happens sometimes when I'm stretching," she answered.
"It shouldn't." He began to explain the different groups of muscles and bones and how they worked together. It was all over Rosalie's head, but she was enjoying the smooth cadence of his voice. It was almost hypnotizing – his melodic voice combined with the perfect pain that left her breathless for whole seconds before it released, leaving her arm feeling better than she could remember it being.
Maybe it was that she was feeling extremely relaxed, maybe it was that her body naturally strained toward the rumble of his voice resonating in his chest. All Rosalie knew was that suddenly she was leaning with her back against Edward's front and his lips were brushing her hair near her ear, his breath hot on her exposed skin.
Abruptly, Rosalie pulled away slightly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her heart beat a rapid tattoo that echoed between her ears. Edward's hands paused, his breath ragged for a moment before he cleared his throat and started massaging again as if nothing had happened.
Fury colored Rosalie's vision and she couldn't concentrate on his words. She didn't know what made her more pissed off: the fact that it felt suspiciously like he was trying to seduce her or the fact that he was able to stop so quickly.
"Don't take this the wrong way. I taught Jasper a variation of this. The sensual massage is a real lady killer but it also restores healthy bloodflow to the body," Edward explained as he began the next part of the massage. The problem was that Rosalie wasn't entirely paying attention. She only heard keywords, 'sensual' and 'lady killer' among them.
She twisted out of Edward's grip. "Get your hands off me," she yelled.
He looked completely flabbergasted for a moment before he looked exasperated. "Would you keep it down?" he admonished.
"I'm sure you'd like that," she hissed, putting more space between them.
"Look, I don't know what your problem is-" he started, but Rosalie cut him off.
"My problem is you putting your hands all over me!"
He gaped at her. "What are you… Jesus Christ, I was trying to help you. You said it was okay, remember?"
"I said it was okay to work out the kink in my shoulder. You weren't touching my shoulder. You were… running your hands down my back and then-" This time it was him who cut her off.
"I explained to you what I was doing as I was doing it. It's not my fault if you were too busy moaning to hear it," Edward retorted, his face a mask of fury. "Look, will you be quiet? I'm not going to touch you again, and if you keep on yelling like that Alice and Jasper –"
"What's going on in here?" The door swung open revealing Alice with her hands on her hips and a concerned looking Jasper behind her.
"We're leaving," Rosalie said, moving to her friend. "Let's go."
"Oh, for fucks sakes," Edward growled. "Are you really that much of a self-centered bitch? If you don't like me, that's fine, but Alice was obviously having a good time." That much was readily apparent. Both Alice and Jasper were completely disheveled: hair wild and clothes rumpled. "She's your friend. Can't you calm down for a few minutes and let her be happy?"
Rose opened her mouth to answer but couldn't. Her heart twisted and she couldn't have felt more wounded if he'd struck her physically.
"You know what? Why don't you go?" Edward suggested, his arms crossed as he glared at her. "Jasper and I are more than capable of driving Alice home."
Alice sighed heavily. "No, it's fine. Come on, Rose."
"Alice… you can stay…" she started, but Alice lifted a hand to stop her.
"You," she said, pointing at Edward with a fierce expression. "I like you, but you do not get to be a prick to my friend."
"I wasn't-" Edward began to protest but apparently thought better of it. Instead, his mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he pushed past Alice and Jasper, storming out of his own room.
Shaking her head slightly, Alice turned to Jasper, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. They kissed quickly and sweetly. "I'm sorry," Alice said softly, making Rosalie feel like more a heel that she had to apologize. Maybe she had over reacted.
"No problem," Jasper said amiably, holding her hand with a beautiful tenderness. "Chicks before dicks. I get it," he joked, and Alice laughed.
When Jasper looked over at Rosalie, his eyes hardened slightly. "Speaking of which – you and I both know that Edward can be an asshole, but he's not that bad. Would it kill you to cut him some slack?"
~0~
Rosalie knew that Edward was alone in the house Friday evening. She knew this because Alice told her she and Jasper had a date that night. Since Alice had also canceled their customary Saturday brunch, Rosalie could bet that Jasper would be with Alice all night.
So why Rosalie suddenly decided she needed to get back the sweater she'd left behind last weekend, she didn't know. She could have had Alice retrieve it for her after all.
Instead, Rosalie found herself pulling up to the Cullen-Whitlock household. She approached the door slowly, feeling irritated and nervous ... and irritated that she was nervous. It took her a moment to realize she could hear music coming from inside the house. A smile played at her lips as she recognized the work of Debussy on piano... a very lovely piano at that.
Sighing to herself, Rosalie rang the doorbell. She was shocked when the piano music cut off. Edward wasn't listening to music... he was playing it.
As he opened the door, a surprised and then wary expression crossed Edward's features before he settled on curiosity. "Alice isn't here," he said flatly, leaning on the door jamb with his arms crossed over his chest.
Rosalie's irritation was back in force. She narrowed her eyes at the arrogant bastard. "I know that. I need my sweater."
He blinked, obviously not knowing what she was talking about.
"My swea-ter?" Rosalie spoke as if Edward were especially slow. "I left it here last week?"
"Right, right, when you had to flee from the big, bad bully," Edward smirked, but he stepped aside to let her in. "I haven't seen it," he said as he walked off toward a room beyond the living room that Rosalie hadn't seen before. "You're welcome to look around."
Aggravated at his constant rudeness, Rosalie slammed the front door as she entered the house. She heard that chuckle she absolutely loathed before he started playing again. Grumbling to herself, Rosalie began searching for her sweater.
It wasn't in the living room or Edward's room. Even though Edward's room was impeccably neat, Rosalie still justified a little snooping - all in the name of finding her missing sweater, of course.
His shelves were lined with books. Rosalie ran her hands over them, admittedly surprised by the variety of titles. She sighed, leaning her head against the wall and wondering why she cared. Shaking off that thought, she headed back into the hallway.
Following the music, Rosalie made her way to the piano room. It was a wide, open room that spanned the back of the house, like it must have once been a patio. Wise decision... what good was an outdoor patio when it rained so damn much in Seattle? The piano - a gorgeous, black baby grand - was set into one corner so that the player was facing the rest of the room.
Edward didn't look up as she entered the room. His eyes remained on the sheet of music in front of him. "Any luck?" he asked amiably, his fingers continuing to move.
"No. You really didn't see a woman's sweater? Or are you just so used to women being in your room that you didn't know whose it was?" Rosalie snarked.
That got his attention, though he only looked up long enough to roll his eyes at her. "Ah, I'm a manwhore today. Well, it's good to know that you've got more in your repertoire than just asshole." He didn't even stop playing to snap at her. Rosalie fought a grimace.
She grumbled to herself but then let it go. "What's that you're playing, anyway? I've never heard it before."
"That's because I wrote it," Edward responded mildly.
Rosalie was impressed. She couldn't help it. "It's... it's honestly beautiful."
Edward looked up again and he smiled, genuinely. "Thank you."
Walking around the piano, Rosalie peered over his shoulder at the music, tracing a finger over the handwritten notes. "I always wished I could compose music. Anytime I tried, though... it just ended up being a facsimile of something already written."
Finishing his song, Edward looked up at her with a skeptical expression. "You play?"
"I used to," Rosalie admitted. "It's been a while." She waited for him to make the inevitable wisecrack, already feeling defensive. Just because she was a good looking woman didn't mean she wasn't cultured. She was actually a gifted pianist.
Instead he only looked contemplative for a moment before he rifled through his music. He pulled out a familiar piece, a duet, and scooted over on the bench. "Well, let's see if you still have what it takes," he challenged.
If he had asked her to play any other way she would have told him to fuck off. As it was her heart began to speed. There was no denying that Edward was talented, and she hadn't been lying - it had been a while since she'd even touched a piano. The last thing she wanted was to look like a fool in front of this man. But the way he'd said it...
Well, she was nothing if not competitive. She sat, primly and carefully, on the bench. The piece he'd chosen was simple enough. She held herself poised straight as she put her fingers on the right keys.
Edward grinned lopsidedly before he copied her stance and he began to play.
Rosalie joined in and felt the smile creep up on her as her tension eased. She'd forgotten what it felt like when her fingers danced across the ivories and beautiful noise came out. She'd forgotten how the rest of the world could slide away as she played.
Rosalie would have thought it would be irritating to play a duet. Normally, she preferred playing alone because she knew she was good - she didn't trust another person to play as well as she could - but Edward was flawless. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his long fingers were graceful as they worked over the keys. She played - the harmony to his melody - and all the negative energy that existed between them fell away, lost as they were in the music. The strains were soft and delicate as the piece they played was a tender love song. How could they be angry at each other when they were immersed in something that spoke wordlessly of the beautiful feelings that could exist between two people?
Looking over her shoulder, she found Edward looking over his at her. He was smiling, his face for once at ease as he looked on her. The melody he played beckoned her, teasing her with the sweetness she could have if only she followed it. Her body swayed. Her head tilted at the same time his did, and as his fingers played the last notes of the song, they kissed.
The vibration of the echo of the piano music gave way to the sound of their lips moving together. She gave a little mewl and he sighed, the noises coming together in an almost melodic tandem - as if they were still making beautiful music together.
His hands cupping either side of her face was as effective as throwing ice cold water over the whole scene. Rosalie gasped wildly and pushed back, away from him. She stood so quickly that she bumped her leg on the edge of the piano.
"What-" Edward began, and then ducked, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist as she tried to slap him. His eyes narrowed.
"Let go of me. Let go!" Rosalie demanded, jerking her arm out of his grip. The instant she was free she made a beeline for the door, cursing herself. It wasn't him she was angry at - some rational part of her knew it, but that knowledge did nothing to calm the rage boiling in her veins.
Her heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest when she heard his quick footsteps catching up to her. She was almost at the door - her hand on the knob - when he leaned into her bubble. He put his hand on the door, preventing her from opening it. Rosalie looked down on her feet, feeling his livid glare on her.
For a few moments there was only the sound of their quick breathing, both of them trying to calm down. Feeling cornered and trapped, it was all Rosalie could do not to kick him in the balls. She knew he didn't deserve it.
"I don't hit women," he said flatly. "But I also expect them not to hit me, especially when I didn't do anything wrong." Straightening so he wasn't towering over her, Edward leaned with his back against the door. "So I'm confused. You are all over the map with me, and I don't like playing games where I don't know the rules."
"The rules are you keep your hands to yourself, you fucking pig," she seethed.
"Are you high? Are you on drugs right now? Because honestly, I don't know how else to explain your fucking insanity," Edward bellowed. He stopped, took a deep breath, and when he spoke again he was quite a bit calmer. "I have news for you: aside from sending you that drink at the club - which we established was done for Jasper's sake, not mine - I have never come on to you."
"Oh, come off it," Rosalie scoffed.
"You came over here, remember? And last week, it was Jasper who invited you, not me. And I don't know if you noticed, but-" Edward was cut off when Rosalie flew forward. Whatever he was going to say melted into a surprised noise that was muffled when she put her mouth to his. She kissed him hard, not knowing if she wanted to shut him up for good or if she simply wanted to be closer to him.
Edward froze and then groaned, his arms snaking around her. He switched their positions so she was pressed against the wall, his body pressing into hers and pulling her closer at the same time. His lips matched her frantic pace.
When their kiss broke they were both breathing raggedly, chests heaving in tandem as they stared at each other. Rosalie felt at once foolish and wanton. She wanted him, but she didn't want to want him. It was like being at war with herself and the battle she fought internally, she saw reflected in his emerald eyes.
He leaned in, capturing her lips again. "You are," he growled into her mouth between kisses, "without a doubt... the most... frustrating woman... on the planet."
She moaned as his teeth dragged along the sensitive skin of her neck. "You're an asshole, you know that?" But even as she said the words her hands went to his belt, unbuckling it and sliding it out of the loops.
"So I've heard," he muttered. Kissing and nipping at her collarbone, Edward batted her hands away, going instantly to the button of her jeans and sliding them down her shapely hips. Rosalie threw her head back, her hands threading into his hair as she whimpered. His fingers, remarkably talented and delightfully long, found their mark quickly. He had her completely worked up in a matter of seconds, though whether that was expertise or the culmination of the volatile atmosphere between them finally coming to a head, she didn't know.
"Tell me you're on something," he demanded in a gravelly growl against her ear, his fingers still in her and circling her.
She couldn't have children but he didn't need to know that then. And no matter what animosity existed between them, she trusted him. Besides, in the weeks they'd known each other, she hadn't seen him so much as flirt with another woman. "I'm good. We're good," she managed to utter, her voice breathy.
Then his fingers were gone from her, and Rosalie whimpered. He needed his hands to get his own pants unbuttoned and shoved down. Stupid prick. Hadn't she tried to do that before? To punish him for this lapse, she took his earlobe in her mouth and bit down harder than was entirely necessary.
"Ow!" Edward protested, and he glared at her. His hand came down hard on the bare skin of her thigh, and Rosalie yelped. He smirked as he yanked her panties down and off, sending them in the direct she'd kicked her pants. His hand gripped her leg just behind her knee as he pulled it up, pushing her back against the door. With his free hand he guided his cock to her entrance and with one, two long thrusts, he was buried deep inside her.
It wasn't tender - that much was certain. Rosalie was held up entirely by the strength of his hips as he slammed repeatedly into hers. His hand was a vice grip on her leg, keeping her open wide to him. His other hand was flat on the door next to her head, keeping his balance as he fucked her.
For her part, Rosalie's hands were everywhere. She dug her nails into his back, dragging them upward and reveling in the animalistic grunt it earned her. She cupped his ass and tugged at his hair.
When their lips were free they taunted each other, Rosalie demanding, "Harder. Faster. More," until Edward claimed her lips with aggressive force.
There was something about the anger that undulated like a living thing all around them. It created a sort of haze, and Rosalie felt as though she was made of pure animal instinct. Maybe that was why, for the first time in what might have been forever, Rosalie felt herself losing the perfect control she had over her body. With Edward's cock filling her and hitting that sweet spot at her core, she felt the tight knot of pure pleasure building, throbbing, becoming more and more a part of her until she was robbed of words and thought entirely. When her mouth was free, the noises she made only vaguely resembled a human being but she had nothing left to feel embarrassed about that.
Orgasm hit her hard, and she buried her face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder hard to smother a wordless scream. The last conscious part of her felt him trust hard and frantic until he released inside of her, gasping like a man being strangled as he came.
His body pinning her against the door was the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle on the floor. Her legs were useless - made of rubber, and so she clung to him with her arms around his neck as they both panted. His forehead rested on hers, his breath hot and fast against her clammy skin, and when she made herself open her eyes, she found him watching her. The look in the emerald depths was intense flecked with uncertainty.
Well, she had no idea what the fuck had just happened either.
He slipped out of her, carefully setting the leg that had been wrapped around his waist on the ground. That hand now free, he brought it up, cupping her cheek in an inexplicably soft action. Rosalie's heart thudded painfully for whole other reasons then.
When Edward leaned in, kissing her gently, Rosalie didn't pull away. She closed her eyes again, kissing him back with little, almost shy motions.
Whatever had happened between them was already done. She couldn't take it back. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to, and while that fact honestly frightened her, she simply wouldn't allow herself to think about it in that moment.
And that was probably why she didn't say a word in protest when Edward hooked his arm under her legs, picking her up and carrying her toward his bedroom. No, she just kept her arms around his neck, her mouth moving on his even as he walked them down the hallway. She didn't argue when he laid her down on his bed. And when he entered her for the second time that evening, Rosalie felt relief mixed among the pleasure. The atmosphere between them, after their initial coupling, was definitely calmer, but she was far from sated. She could only be glad that he agreed.
A/N: Agh! Did I just write that? Anyway.
Thank you to TwilightMundi – it still makes me giggle that she betas my A/N's too. Hehehehehe.
So sorry for not replying to reviews. I am utterly amused, and a little horrified, that I'm a gateway drug, introducing some of you to Roseward. Sooooo…. Are you still with me after that sordid little ordeal?