The Other Side of Me
Chapter 4
After work at the market on Saturday, I rushed home with barely enough time to shower and dress for the James event. I wore a short, straight black skirt and a white button up shirt—the uniform of a catering server. I had to wear my sneakers, though. I didn't want to trip over heels and ruin everything for James. I threw my hair, still wet, into a ponytail and in my rush, spilled the contents of my makeup bag onto the bathroom tile. Luckily the contents only included lip gloss, a powder compact, eyeliner, and mascara.
There was a knock at my door before I had a chance to clean up the small scatter on the floor. Edward stood there in his white shirt tucked into black slacks and a matching tie, holding up a bottle of wine, the sun behind him lightening his hair.
"Wine?" he asked.
"Absolutely." I left the door open for him and ran back into the bathroom. "How much time do we have?" I yelled even though the bathroom was only a few feet away from the front door.
"We have to leave in fifteen minutes. We're taking a taxi."
"I know. I know. You hate the subway." I penciled my eyes, dabbed some mascara on my lashes, and just before I glossed my lips, Edward handed me a glass of wine through the open bathroom door.
My heart slowed down after just one warm sip. "Why am I nervous?" I left the bathroom and joined him about six feet away in the kitchen.
Leaning against the back of the sofa, facing the kitchen, Edward looked over at me and laughed. "I have no idea. This is Jay's thing." He stepped to the table and grabbed the wine. There was only enough room for two at that table and it hadn't been sat at since Jessica left.
"I keep picturing myself dropping a tray on Rich Bastard."
"I can actually see that happening," he said, refilling the one-third of my glass I'd sipped. I hit his arm playfully and some wine spilled to the wood floor. "I wouldn't recommend doing anything like that at the party, either." He reached for the towel hanging on the stove to wipe the spill.
"Sorry."
"Bella, why are there splotches of paint all over your floor?"
I shrugged, and took a sip of my wine. "The two guys who lived here before us were artists. There's paint everywhere. Even some on the walls. I don't know what the hell they did with their paint, roll in it?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," he said, tossing the soiled towel on the counter.
"Thanks," I said, and kissed him, because how could I resist? He had just cleaned up my spill and given me quite a view of his backside at the same time. We both felt for the counter with our glasses and placed them down, so our hands could roam where they wanted His were under my shirt, up my back. Mine were around his neck, in his hair. His hair. My fingers loved it there. I rubbed through it at the nape of his neck, and then kissed his throat. His breathing picked up.
"B-Bella…"
"Yes?" I licked his throat and finished with a kiss.
His eyes opened, glazed and gazing at me. His voice was a whisper. "We have to go. I don't want to go. Let's cancel. James would cancel on us, wouldn't he?" He pulled me closer, back to his lips.
"No," I said against his lips. "No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't let us down like that."
He sighed into my mouth. "You're right." He pulled away, turned around, leaned against the counter, and took another sip of his wine, or mine. He hadn't even looked at the glass he picked up. "Unfortunately."
We finished our wine and I turned to rinse the glasses in the sink. I felt Edward's lips on the back of my neck, and fell forward against the counter, glass scraping against the ceramic of the sink.
"I like when you wear your hair like this." A finger twirled my ponytail and then grazed the back of my ear. My eyes closed.
"And I like your ears," he said.
"My ears?"
"Yeah, they're cute."
I faced him. "I have cute ears?"
He nodded. "I'm going to get you earrings."
"Really?" I smiled. "No guy has ever bought me earrings before."
"What kind do you like? Do you like the long ones, or the little round ones?"
"I don't know." I shrugged. "I've never thought about it. When I wear them, they're usually studs. Simple, I guess."
"You've never thought about earrings?" He frowned at me.
"Edward, jewelry isn't the only thing on a girl's mind."
"Well, I've never dated a girl quite like you. But, if you're not going to help me out, whatever I get you, you have to wear."
"Of course I will."
"And I've never bought earrings for any girl before." He took my hand and kissed my lips. "We have to go."
The event was a private art show, which, as it turned out, wasn't in a loft, but an Upper West Side penthouse in a huge towering building that made the two trees in front of it look like weeds. Gold trimmed the edges of every door. I stayed as far away from Rich Bastard as possible, save shaking his hand upon entering. The back of his hand was hairier than his head.
"Edward," I said in the kitchen the size of my apartment, with granite countertops and deep cherry cabinets. It was such a formal kitchen I was afraid to touch anything—didn't want to even leave a fingerprint on anything. "Let's switch trays. I'm scared."
He took my tray of champagne and handed me the tray of hor d'eourves. Then he kissed me, holding the tray without spilling one drop.
"Look at you showing off," I said.
"I'll stop if you want."
"Never." With my free hand, I pulled him by his tie back to my lips. He set the tray down, his hand falling to my leg. He lifted my leg at my knee and let his hand drift up under my skirt toward my panties. But when we heard the doors swing open, James entering, Edward and I jumped away from each other. That surprised me. We had both jumped back. Not just me. I eyed Edward. He was straightening his tie. Was he as worried about revealing our relationship to James as I was?
"Thanks for doing this for me, kids," James said. He was wearing a white apron, and adjusted the tie in the back. "Seriously, I don't know what I would have done without you. Hey! Little B, your job is champagne. Pretty girl plus champagne equals more drinking, more money spent on crappy art, more 'James, come back for my next event.' Don't you understand math?" He took our trays and switched them back.
"I'm afraid of tripping or spilling on people, or worse, spilling on the crappy art."
"Have some faith in yourself." James squeezed my shoulder.
I looked at Edward. He raised his eyebrows. "Just one foot in front of the other, Bella."
"Fine." I put the tray down and removed four of the glasses. "If I'm going out there with these, I'm taking no more than four glasses at a time. I'll do more rounds, but that's just too damn bad."
They both laughed. James picked up one of the discarded champagne flutes and took a sip.
"Drinking on the job, Big Jay?"
"You know it, Little B," he said and lifted his glass to me. I glanced at Edward. He hadn't taken his eyes off me, which made the hairs at the back of my neck and on my arms tingle. I pushed backwards through the doors, then turned around to face the crowd, took a deep breath and a slow walk, careful not to tilt the tray at all. This serving stuff was stressful. I missed my simple job at the corner market, where people wore sneakers instead of thousand dollar heels and were always in a rush to get out, get away from you. Here people lingered, and even set an empty glass on my tray when I wasn't looking, throwing me off balance. I managed not to spill.
Well, not on anyone but me. I had a glass at the end of the night, and it dribbled down my chin to my chest. Edward handed me a napkin and I dabbed at my shirt. He wore an amused smile, and even though I was a little embarrassed and slightly irritated that he thought it was funny—or maybe even expected it—I smiled back.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go check out the art."
The living room where the art was shown was long and set up like several lounges, different seating areas with smooth gray loveseats and boxy but full-cushioned chairs. Each seating area had its own set of end tables and a coffee table. The place appeared even bigger when it was void of people. I wondered what it was like for Rich Bastard when he was alone here. I wondered if people in huge apartments like this felt even lonelier when the place was empty.
Edward and I followed the paintings hung at eye level along the walls, bright in color on a background of black. They were all abstract pieces.
"Is it really crappy?" I asked him.
He put an arm around my waist. "If this is crappy, my work is utter shit."
"Well then, this must be absolutely amazing," I said.
"I'll put it this way: if Rich Bastard asked me to show my art here, I wouldn't hesitate."
James came up, draping an arm over my shoulder and clearing his throat. "Don't let Rich Bastard hear you calling him that. You'd never get an invite."
"How many pieces sold?" Edward asked.
"Eight. Yeah, so that's about eighty-thousand dollars. Not bad for one night, eh? I could put in a word for you, Masen. But I don't know if Rich Bastards really trust the words of their caterers when it comes to art. Although my food, it's art, wouldn't you say, Little B?"
"Definitely," I said. "It even tastes like art would taste, I assume." I looked at Edward. "Will you excuse us? I want to talk to James for a second."
Edward hesitated, looking down at me. "Sure." He took James's hand, removing it from my shoulder. "Congratulations on a success, Jay," he said, shaking his hand. Then he continued his walk through the art.
"What's up?" James asked.
"I'm really proud of you. I think you've found yourself. Your place in the world."
"About damn time, right?" He smiled.
"There's just something I've been wanting to talk to you about."
"Look at you," James said. "Your eyes. What you have to say to me, it's good."
"I think so."
"Finally," he said. "So, I find my place in the world and you finally see the potential in me? In us."
My eyes widened. I took a shocked step back. This was not where I imagined the conversation heading. "No, no, James. That's not it."
"Not it?" His eyes narrowed and then saddened. When he spoke, his voice was quieter. "What's it going to take, Bella? Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Whatever it is."
I turned around, looking over my shoulder at Edward, who seemed entranced by a piece of art.
"Wait," James said. "I get it. Now isn't the time to talk about it. I'll come over, bring you the canolli I promised and we'll talk, okay?"
"Okay," I said, turning back to him. I no longer had the strength to tell him about Edward and me. He was on too much of a high from the night and too hopeful for what it may have meant for us. James and me.
We made our way to Edward.
"I still have clean up to do," said James. "You'll see our girl home?"
"I came with her," Edward said, taking my hand but not linking our fingers. "I'll leave with her."
After our kiss in the kitchen, Edward and I hadn't chanced a kiss the rest of our evening at the penthouse, so by the time we were alone in the backseat of a cab, we couldn't keep our mouths off each other.
"Your taste like champagne," Edward said.
"So do you."
"I want to know what your tongue tastes like." I opened my mouth for him and he moaned. "Mmm." He kissed along my jaw to my ear. "And your neck." He tilted my head to the angle he wanted and gave me a slow lick and a kiss until I mmmed, too.
Neither one of us noticed that the taxi had stopped until the driver cleared his throat. "Here," he said.
Edward and I pulled away from each other, somehow surprised that we weren't actually alone. I saw him reach into his pocket, but I stilled his hand. "No," I said. "I'll pay this time. You always pay."
He tried to argue with me, because taxis are expensive, but I wouldn't back down. I reached forward, offering the driver a twenty. He raised his eyebrows at me.
"You two have a fun night," he said. "Looks like you're planning on it."
Edward and I left the cab, laughing at ourselves. I covered my face.
Edward took my hands. "Don't be embarrassed. That sort of thing, and worse, probably happens every night."
I don't know why, but that embarrassed me further.
Inside, we finished off the wine he'd brought over earlier. We sat on the sofa sipping and talking and then just staring at each other. His finger came to my neck at the collar of my shirt and he gave a gentle rub back and forth.
"Bella, there's something about you. I can't narrow it down to just one thing. It's the whole package. The whole you. I can't get enough."
I set my glass on the coffee table, determined not to spill on Edward, and I kissed him. I was on my knees, above him, just trying to give him the kiss that said I couldn't get enough of him either. His hands met my waist and he pulled me onto his lap.
"Why didn't we notice this before?" I asked.
He traced the back of his finger down my cheek. "I noticed you were beautiful the minute you stepped out of Alice's car on the day we met. But you were Alice's friend. Off limits. I shut you out as anything other than a friend the second I saw you. Whenever we were together, I was careful not to cross a line I may not have been able to come back from."
"I shut you out as anything more than a friend in my mind, too. You and James. James asked me out a few times, but I turned him down because I didn't want to risk messing up our friendship. And the more he asked, the more I knew I wasn't interested. I wonder if I would've turned you down if you had asked. I mean, really asked, before the tour proposal at the coffee house. Before that kiss."
"Let's pretend you wouldn't have turned me down." He kissed me. "Please." He kissed me again.
"Let's pretend you would've asked, eventually," I said, but I was growing tired of interrupting our kisses. "Let's not talk anymore."
He showed me how much he agreed with me with a breath as deep as his kiss. His hands were at my waist but not under my shirt. I wanted to put them there and was about to when he broke our kiss. He brought his fingers to the top button of my shirt and held it, looking at me. I didn't say anything and he unbuttoned it, still looking at me. His hand fell to the next button and he hesitated again. I still didn't say anything and he unbuttoned that one, too. He brought his hand to my throat and his eyes followed as he drew a straight line down my chest until his fingers caught the third button just at the bottom of my ribcage, and he fingered that one too, hesitating again.
I broke our promise of silence . "It's okay, Edward. I want you to."
His eyes met mine and he unbuttoned the rest of the way down, pushed my shirt off my shoulders with both of his hands, and pulled me close to kiss my shoulders, my collarbone, and all over my chest, over my bra. There was a wave through my body that I felt with every kiss, and it warmed me and chilled me at the same time, and left me wanting so much more. His arms were around me and he leaned forward, arching my back so he could kiss a trail down my stomach. He brought me up again and just looked at my face.
I pulled my ponytail out, and Edward's fingers were instantly in my hair, and he held me, still looking into my eyes. I felt butterflies in my chest because he was looking for something. He was looking for permission to go further, but he hadn't asked the question so I didn't know how to tell him, how to show him that it was okay. I decided that maybe unbuttoning his shirt was the way to get my point across. I began with his tie, slipping it off his neck and dropping it beside me. Once his shirt was off, I didn't have to burden myself with thoughts anymore. I just started kissing and touching him over his chest and unbuttoning his pants without a thought. He picked me up and carried me to my bedroom, still kissing me. He sat me on the bed, and since his pants were already undone he just pushed them down and stepped out of them. He stood there in only his boxers, his broad chest rising with every breath. He reached forward and unzipped my side zipper. I lifted up so he could pull my skirt off.
"Bella," he said, his voice deep, quiet. He knelt down in front of me and my eyes followed him. He touched my neck, a soft touch that slid down my shoulders, my arms, to my hands where they rested on my thighs. He continued his exploration down my thighs, my calves, to my ankles and back up the inside of my legs, and they opened a little on their own accord. I wanted to lie back and let him do more to me, but I couldn't take my eyes off his. "I want to touch you everywhere. You're beautiful," he said in that same deep voice, the sound of desire lacing his words.
That did it. I could no longer sit up. I let myself fall back against the mattress, pulling him by his arms along with me. His hand was still on the inside of my thigh, and he pushed my legs apart wider and his fingers teased me. I couldn't hold back my moan. My own hands came to the sides of my panties and pushed at them until he understood that I wanted them off, and he pulled them down the rest of the way.
"Edward, come here." I wanted to feel him. I'd never felt him naked against me. He hovered over me and I unhooked my bra from the back, letting him take that off, too. His lips, smooth as satin, replaced it without hesitance. I arched my back, and stroked his skin down to his waist, where I held on and pulled him even closer against me, and he moaned, too. He wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me farther onto the bed so we were both all the way on it now, and his perfect fingers and lips traveled over me, playing me like a piano. His fingers played fervent, classical music all over my body until I almost couldn't stand it any longer; it was near torture not to have him inside me. I pulled on his shoulders until he was back there against me, where I needed him. I felt him naked between my legs. Somehow in this blur of feeling that surrounded me, I hadn't even noticed he had taken off his boxers. I gasped and Edward paused, pushed my hair back from my face and looked at me, the question back in his eyes. I couldn't speak so my arms wrapped around his back and I tugged him toward me, and he was in.
"Bella…"
I couldn't answer. All I could do was moan. And we were both gasping and moving together. With my hand to his head, I pulled his face, his lips to mine and we shared breaths and moans and tongues. His movements slowed to a pause and I pushed on the small of his back.
"More," I gasped out. And he was moving again. Deep inside me I felt him, his pace quickening, his pace uncontrolled, and then I was falling or floating, where it was just me and Edward and nothing else. The world may have still been there but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Edward in that moment.
He collapsed on top of me in heaving breaths, and then perhaps afraid he'd squish me, he lifted his weight and rolled to his back, pulling me along, his arms completely encircling my waist. I tangled our legs together; the hair on his tickled the smoothness of mine.
"Bella, that was-"
"I know," I said. His fingers moved, teasing my waist, up my side and back down to my hip. "That was so…"
He may have still been sliding his hands over my body when I fell asleep against his shoulder.
~::::::~
Edward slept through the thunder. I watched him when it boomed again—not even a flinch.
"Edward," I whispered. "Edward." I patted his chest, then wondered why I was whispering when I was trying to wake him up. "Edward," I said louder and nudged him, wiggled him. "Wake up."
He groaned.
"Edward, can't you hear that?"
"What?" It was another groan. "Come here." He held a lazy arm out, his eyes still closed.
"No. Wake up."
"Mmm."
"Edward, do you hear the thunder? Do you think it's raining?" I lifted the curtain covering the window over my bed, but I couldn't see out. There was nothing but blackness and the overhang above would keep rain off the window.
"I don't know. Come here, please." His eyes were open and he reached for me with both arms.
"No, you come here." I climbed out of bed and walked over to his side, trying to pull him up.
"Where do you want me to go? I'm asleep."
"Not anymore. Get up. Come on." I tugged on his arm. He was heavy.
"Are you serious?"
"No, I'm just sleepwalking. Yes! Get up." I stopped tugging on him and went to the living room to grab his shirt and pants. When I returned to my bedroom, he was sitting up, wiping at his eyes. I threw him his pants, and then slipped my arms through his shirt. I buttoned it and he frowned at me as he stepped into his pants.
"Hurry," I said.
"Are you kicking me out? But you're wearing my shirt." He hooked a finger through the top of the shirt, pulling at the button. I didn't answer him, just took his finger out of my shirt and led him to the front door. Outside we walked up the steps, and I continued on to the sidewalk. Edward stayed where he was, on the top step, under the awning.
"It is raining," I said. It wasn't pouring, but enough was coming down to soak me. I stood there, letting it.
"Are you crazy?"
"Yes. Come here, now."
He took a few steps toward me. "My shirt looks good on you all wet." He was blinking raindrops out of his eyes. I closed mine, faced the sky, felt the rain on my face.
"It's just like Forks. Raining in summer."
"That's what this is about? You're homesick? Of all things, you miss the rain?"
"I'm glad I amuse you."
"So amusing." He hugged me, kissed me, our foreheads, noses, chins, eyelashes all dripping rain. We laughed at ourselves and kissed some more. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me. "Come on, let's get out of these wet clothes."
Back in my room, we helped each other out of what little clothes we had on. I would have hung them over the shower to dry, but I was otherwise distracted by Edward's lips and fingers. The clothes were a wet slush on the wood floor, and that's where they would have to stay.
Unless you're Edward, who I was beginning to believe could sleep through anything, it was impossible not to be awakened by all the noise in the morning. There was a diner on the other side of my patio fence. They offered outdoor seating during the summer, so just after the crack of dawn, they were noisy with dishes and silverware. I had grown use to it; it was almost calm to wake up to that—better than an alarm clock, if you asked me. However, after a night of nary a hair of sleep, it was ridiculously loud and obnoxious. Did they have to bang the plates so hard, and what where they doing? Throwing the silverware around? Sword fighting with it? Even a closed window and a pillow over my head couldn't block the sound.
I was up and brushing my teeth by 7:30 when Edward finally awoke. I pulled my toothbrush from my mouth, and I asked him if the restaurant noise woke him.
"The bed was empty. You were gone." He came behind me and kissed along my shoulder as I continued brushing. I was wearing a bra and panties because, even though we had made love, twice, I felt uncomfortable walking around naked in front of Edward.
"Morning," he said into the crook of my neck. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please," I said.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, Edward was standing in the living room in just his boxers, holding his clothes.
"You're getting dressed?"
He paused and smiled. "Does that disappoint you, Bella? I won't get dressed, if you don't. Besides, these things are still wet."
He draped his clothes over one of my chairs, then poured two cups of coffee, adding just a little cream and sugar to mine because he knew me well enough, and handed it to me. I leaned against his bare chest on the sofa, and his arm came around my waist, his hand resting on my stomach, and we sipped.
"Do you ever stop for a minute and think, this is us?" He asked. "I mean, who we used to be to each other and who we are to each other now?"
"I do that a lot. Especially last night."
"Me too."
"Is that why you kept randomly touching my arm last night?"
He laughed. "You felt that?"
I nodded. "But you know what's really weird?" I set my cup down on the coffee table and turned toward him. "That wasn't even the first time we slept together."
"That is kind of weird."
~::::::~
We'd shared a bed on every stop during our drive from Washington. It was because of James and it sort of just happened. We stayed at the Holiday Inn at our first stop in Idaho. James, the only one of us who could afford his own room, compromised to help us out, and we all three shared a room and the expenses. There were two double beds in the room. Edward was the first to claim one by lying down on his back, his hands behind his head.
"I'll sleep with Bella," James said. "I'm sure as hell not sleeping with you, man."
"You are not sleeping with me," I said. "Not with those hands. Who knows what you'll grab under the covers."
"I wouldn't touch you," James said.
"How can I be sure? We just met. I'll share a bed with Edward."
"You just met him, too."
"Yeah, but he's my best friend's brother. That's almost like family."
"It's okay," James said. "You can have your own bed, Bella. I'll share with that guy as long as he stays all the way on his side."
"No way," Edward said. "This bed is too small. Bella, you'll be fine here. I'll keep my hands to myself."
"I know you will," I said as I pulled night clothes from my suitcase and then went into the bathroom to change.
When I climbed into bed with Edward, he and James were watching some wrestling thing on TV. I turned on my side toward Edward, away from the TV. He was on his side, too, facing my direction.
"Goodnight." I closed my eyes and dragged a hand over the bed toward my face and felt Edward's hand next to mine. I didn't move. The sides of our hands were touching and neither of us moved. I wondered if he even noticed, but I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes to find out.
"You're not touching her under there, are you, Masen?" James asked.
"No. Shut off the TV and go to sleep."
"Is he being a gentleman, Bella?"
"Yes, James."
He shut off the TV and we all slept. In the morning, our hands were in the exact same position, still lined up, still touching.
I'd shrugged it off as nothing because he never mentioned it.
Facing him on the sofa now, I began wondering all over again. Too shy to come right out and ask him, I picked up his hand and lined mine up with his in the same way they'd been that night at the hotel. I gazed up at him to see if he had any reaction at all. He gave me a half-smile. He smirked at me, and nodded, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Our shared kisses and laughs were interrupted by a knock at the door.
We were forced to cover up. He tossed me his damp shirt, and I buttoned it up while he pulled on his slacks. Who could possibly be coming over at 8:00 in the morning on a Sunday?
"Maybe Jessica's home early," I said. Edward answered the door and I stood back, hiding myself behind the door.
"Masen?" It was James. "What are you…" He pushed the door back and saw me, his eyes widening. "You two?" He started backing up. "I see."
"Jay," Edward said. "Let's talk about this."
"Oh, you want to talk," he scoffed. "You want to talk. All right, let's talk if that's what you want. You're awfully fucking used to getting what you want, aren't you? I see you got our girl. You know how I feel about her, but fuck that, you got her. You had no inclination to talk about that, did you?"
"James," I said.
He shook his head. "Don't, Bella. Not now. You're not even wearing any pants." He started to leave, then turned around again. "You gave it up for him? You won't even go out to dinner with me but you give it up for him?" He shook his head, his mouth turned down. He looked disgusted with me. I wanted pants. "Did he even ask you out? I doubt it. He knew he could get you to spread your legs for him."
"Hey!" Edward said. "Enough!"
My hand was making its way to my mouth as if entranced. It paused midway. I was speechless.
James ignored Edward. "And you know he never gets serious, that he avoids relationships like the fucking plague. Don't come crawling on your hands and knees to me when he drops you like all the rest."
"All right, Jay," Edward said, "let's go." He started for the door.
James held up a hand, backing up. "Don't worry, man, you don't need to see me out. I just came to give these to Bella. To say, thank you. I wasn't aware I should have called first. So yeah, thanks." He dropped the brown bag, canolli, I assumed. "I'm out."
Edward closed the door, turned to me, and we just stared at each other for a minute. "I told you that I don't get serious. I was honest with you."
I searched his eyes. I braced myself for what he'd say next, that he wasn't ready to be exclusive, that last night was a… mistake?
"But Bella, that all changed when I decided to kiss you."
I let out a breath. Had my heart even been beating? I felt my blood in my veins, warming me.
"The second I kissed my best friend, the person who's meant the most to me in all of New York, that all changed." His lips tightened and he pointed at the floor. "This is not just about getting you into bed and it never was. You know that, right? I mean, I couldn't keep my hands off you; you had to push them away so much in the beginning, but it was never just physical for me, okay? I wouldn't do that to you. We've been friends for too long. I wouldn't hurt you like that."
I nodded.
"Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
He stepped closer to me. "I'm sorry I never asked you out on a real date. I know I took you out, but I never officially asked. That was disrespectful."
I put my hands on his waist. "Edward, don't apologize. I never even thought of that. It's different for us. It was unexpected and then natural. Besides, you asked me to tour the city with you. It may have been a joke, but still. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm just yours. That's the way it is."
"You're mine?"
"Yes."
He kissed me, his arms circling me. "I'm yours, too," he whispered against my lips. "And I'm lucky. I know that."
"We'll have to see if Alice agrees."
"She will." He kissed me again, longer this time. "Bella, I want you to understand that last night was the best night of my life. I'm not going to mess this up. I won't."
"It was my best night too, Edward."
He kissed me in a way that seemed he would never stop. His lips were pressed tight against mine, his tongue in my mouth, and the kiss kept going. But eventually, he did break it.
"I have to go." He pulled back only slightly. "And as much as I love my shirt on your body, I'm going to need it. I have to find Jay. Try to talk to him."
I started unbuttoning his shirt, and he turned around. "I can't look at you or I won't leave." I put his shirt in his reaching hand. "It's still a little wet," He laughed, slipping his arms in. Then he faced me again with his eyes closed, reached for my hand and pulled me in for a kiss. "I want to take you to lunch. Do you have plans? Will you join me for lunch today?"
His eyes were still closed. He really couldn't look at me. I took his face and stood on tiptoe to kiss his eyelids. "Yes, I will. And see? You asked."
He nodded, smiled, turned around, and walked out, after James. The only thing left of Edward was his black tie. I saw it slung over the sofa. I let it stay right where it was.
