Chapter 3
Whatever Bella
Wants
-Bella-
Snow is bright. I walk back into the house and grab my sunglasses before walking back out. I am hungover. I struggle to find my keys and not spill my coffee as I walk off the last step and land on my ass. Stupid boots with their stupid high heels. Why do I let Alice talk me into buying ridiculous things like this? Especially knowing just how clumsy I am. Great. My ass is cold and wet and stuck to a patch of ice and my chest is hot and wet and smells like coffee. Ick. And I'm going to be late for work.
I slip on the ice two more times before I make it to my car. Stupid boots for a stupid job. I unlock my truck and lose my footing yet again when I attempt to open the door, but I'm too smart to fall this time. I hold onto the door until I regain my balance. But I have a slight problem. My door is still closed. Stupid snow. Stupid ice. I hate all this stupid weather. I kick my truck and regret it when a sharp pain surges through my foot. I try to open my door for another minute then glance at my watch. I've got five minutes to make the 13 minute trip to work.
I scream in frustration and kick my truck again. "Need some help?" I jump as I hear a voice from behind me.
I turn around and see Edward smiling at me, looking just as hot as he had yesterday. He was drunk last night too. He should be looking like crap. I do. I brush stray hairs from my face and smile. "My door's stuck."
"Did you unlock it?" he asks, laughing as he walks closer. I glare at him, but he can't see it through the dark sunglasses. He fights with my truck for a minute but my door finally swings open and he slips.
"Don't worry," I laugh, "I've already done that three times." I help him up and watch him dust off his pants.
"You got a little something…" he points to the big wet spot on my shirt.
I nod. "Coffee. Ice. Bad," I explain in my I'm-too-hungover-to-formulate-a-complete-sentence kind of way. "Thank you," I finally say, throwing my things into the car.
"No problem," he smiles, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I, uh, I wanted to apologize for last night."
-Edward-
She shakes her head and laughs, her hair falling into her face. "You're not the first guy to try to get me into bed," I shake my head and look at my feet. "And as much fun as it is talking to you, I'm late for work."
"Oh," I say with a nod. Work. Yeah, people do that. I should probably get one of those job things too. "What do you do?"
"I work at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. I know, it doesn't really seem like it would fit. But it somehow does," she nods while she speaks. "I need to pay my way through college somehow."
"You're in college?"
"Indeed. With Alice and Emmett. But I thought you would have known that. Must get to work."
She starts her engine and I take a step back, but still hold her doorframe. Time is running out, I have to get back on track… "We're having another party tonight. Well, me and Emmett are. Alice is still in a coma, I'm sure. Interested?"
She exhales loudly and scrunches up her face in thought. "Sure," she finally accepts and reaches into her purse. She pulls out a pen and grabs my hand, scribbling a number on it. "Call me at 1, when I take my break. You can give me all the details then." I smile at her and she just stares at me. "You can move now," she says slowly, as if I'm stupid, which I guess I am. I close her door for her and wave as she peels out of her driveway.
I'm such an asshole. I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone, dialing the familiar number. "Huh?" the sleepy voice manages.
"Hey, Emmett," I smile.
"Uhhh," is the response I get from him. I'm sure that if I translate if from the ancient very hungover and very sleepy language it means hello.
"I need your help," I say, walking back over to Tanya's place.
"Uhhhhnnnnnfuuuuuckkkkk. Mmmmsleep," he mumbles. I think that means 'fuck you I'm sleepy' but I can't be sure.
"Plenty of time for that later. Right now you have to pick me up and help me plan a party."
-Bella-
These guys do know how to throw a party. Lots of people, loud music, a lot to drink. Doesn't get much better than this. I see Edward talking to a large group of people and he smiles and waves me over. I sigh and walk over, pulling Alice with me.
As we walk closer I can see Emmett and Rosalie; holding hands, staring into each other's eyes and smiling, giving quick kisses and whispering I love you. It's nauseating. My lip curls up in disgust and Alice giggles beside me.
"What?" Edward asks, nudging me in the side.
"Nothing," I shake my head, walking away from the group and taking a long drink.
"Come ooooonnnn," Alice says a little too loud and rolls her eyes as she grabs my arm. Damn it! She's not allowed to drink anymore. "Babyface doesn't know?"
"Doesn't know what?" Edward asks, instantly curious. "And don't call me babyface. It stopped being funny like five years ago."
"Bella doesn't believe in love," she giggles. I hate Alice. But why should I? I really have no reason. She's just telling the truth. No shame in that. I bring my red plastic cup to my lips but it's empty. I need more beer.
"You don't believe in love?" Edward laughs.
"I need more beer," I announce loudly walking away but I hear footsteps following close behind me.
"How can you not believe in love?" Edward asks.
I shrug and keep walking as I speak over my shoulder, "Easy. I don't."
"But…"
"But what?" I ask, grabbing a cup from someone's hand and drinking its contents quickly, throwing the empty cup over my shoulder. I hope it hits him and pokes him right in the eye, leaving him with a shiner in the morning. That would be nice. Too bad my luck isn't good enough for that to happen. Wow. I sound kind of pathetic. Yeah, still need more beer. "I've never been in love," I explain, grabbing a cup from someone else and become aware that people are staring at us. Well, staring at me. Eh, doesn't bother me. I pry another drink away from a girl who really should have stopped drinking an hour ago. I throw this plastic cup behind me and stumble over my feet. Damn it! I should've stopped drinking an hour ago too.
"So just because you've never been in love means it doesn't exist?" he asks, his voice lined with sarcasm. And I know what comes next. "Have you ever seen a million dollars?" Like I haven't heard that one before. I roll my eyes.
"Completely different argument. That might just be the worst comparison ever," I groan. He really frustrates me. So I would like to frustrate him. "Like you," I point. "I'm sure you have never actually witnessed a woman cum before, aside from porn of course. Because I have a feeling you're a total porn addict. Mostly because I can't imagine a woman even considering bumping uglies with you. I shudder at the very thought. And because I seriously fucking doubt a fucking fumbling idiot like you is capable of ever making a woman achieve anything remotely resembling an orgasm. But I can assure you it does exist. Some men can actually please a woman. That would have been much better."
"Wow," he rolls his eyes. "So poetic. And I'll have you know that if we ever have sex, you will cum harder than you ever have before. Because I am that fucking amazing."
I cringe and push the thought of us having sex from my mind. And despite what I may have said, it is not because I am repulsed by it. I am oddly turned on by him right now. Damn alcohol. So I choose to ignore him and continue to prove my point. "And that's not the only reason,' I say. I abruptly stop walking and turn to face Edward. "Why do you care anyway?"
"I just find it hard to believe," he says with a shrug.
I sigh and walk into the empty kitchen looking for
more to drink. Since I'm already drunk anyway…
-Edward-
I follow her into the kitchen and watch as she grabs a beer and hops onto the counter. She cocks her head and looks at me. "Have you ever been in love before?"
"Yeah," I nod.
"Really in love?" she asks, her voice husky and playful. She lowers her head and stares into my eyes, like she's looking for something inside my head. I nod again. "But you aren't anymore?" I slowly nod. I think she's crazy. Hot but crazy. "How can you just stop loving someone?" I don't have an answer. I'm not a love expert. I just want to fuck her.
"Things change," I shrug. "So you're basing this on the fact that you've never been in love before?"
"No," she shakes her head. "I've never seen two people in love before."
"What about your parents?"
"Divorced," she shrugs.
My personal life probably won't help. Not much is known about my birth parents. And Carlisle has been single for as long as I can remember. "Carlisle has a cousin that is still married," I offer.
"Wonderful," she smiles and I have a feeling that it's sarcastic. "They're both magnificent liars. They favor companionship and don't want to admit that marriage was the biggest fucking mistake ever." She rolls her eyes and chugs her beer before reaching for another. "Do you honestly think that there is only one person out there for you? One person that you have to spend the rest of your life with? One person to have sex with until the day you die?" she continues to rant and I begin to understand that she's more drunk than crazy. Drunk girls. Easy prey. But who knows about drunk and crazy? Only one way to find out.
"So you don't think you'll ever be in love?" I ask, stepping closer to her.
She shakes her head, her dark hair falling in her face and covering her eyes. "Hasn't happened yet."
I tuck her hair behind her ear and look into her eyes. "Would you like it to?" I step between her legs and look into her eyes.
She smiles and leans into me, her breath warming my ear. I win. Too easy. "No," she whispers soft and low before pulling away from me and smirking with a giggle. What? This is where we have sex. Not where she turns me down. Again. I bite my tongue and calm myself. I just need to try a different approach.
-Bella-
"Care
to bet on that?" he asks, stepping back, his hands resting gently
on my knees.
The corners of my mouth curl up into a smile. "I never make a bet I can't win."
"So you don't want to bet then?" he asks, taking another step back, but I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back to me.
"I never said that. All I said was that I'm going to win." I wink and finish my beer.
"Think so?"
I nod and lean over to him again, the heavy scent of his cologne filling my nose. He smells delicious. "I know so," I giggle. He holds out his hand and I accept. "So what are the terms?" I ask.
"I don't know what you want but I have a pretty good idea of what I want," he smirks.
I pause and think a minute. What would I like? Right now I would like more beer. And that is a very bad sign. "I will have to get back to you." I am way too drunk right now to make an important decision like that. I grab the closest bottle containing alcohol and take a long drink. I make a face as the cheap vodka warms my throat. "So confident," I giggle at him. "Who do you think is going to be able to change me?" I raise an eyebrow. "You?" I giggle again. I have officially gone over my quota of giggles for one evening. Men are so predictable. He grins like a fool and I pull him forward, bringing him between my legs. I can feel the heat radiating from inside his jeans. I'm soooo drunk. And I'm soooo going to regret this in the morning. I play with the hem of his shirt and my fingers finally make their way to the bottom button.
He clears his throat and stares at my hands as they undo another button. "What are you doing?" he asks, staring at my fingers.
"Unbuttoning your shirt," I explain, and keep moving my fingers. What does it look like I'm doing?
"I can see that," he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "But why?"
I roll my eyes. He's not very smart. Or maybe he's drunk like me. "How else am I going to get it off? I could always just rip it. But who knows? This might be your favorite shirt. So unbuttoning it is," I continue my explanation as my fingers continue to work on his shirt.
"Why do you want my shirt off?" he asks, his hands running through his dark hair.
"Well, I suppose you could leave your shirt on but it'll be much better with all your clothes off," I nod, fumbling with the next button. Damn alcohol ruining my coordination.
-Edward-
I gently swat her hands away and take a step back, furrowing my brow as I look at her. "Why am I taking off all of my clothes?"
She sighs heavily and rolls her eyes like I'm stupid. "I'm bored and lonely, kinda horny, not to mention drunk, so my judgment is impaired. And sex just seems like a good solution to all the above problems. And how else are we going to have sex? Certainly not with all your clothes still on."
Wait? What? Sex? I thought that…I don't know what to think. This girl is a conundrum. More than a conundrum. A conundrum wrapped in a puzzle wrapped in a riddle…or something really confusing and complicated like that.
"What?" she shrugs. "Yesterday you try to get me to sleep with you and now that I'm throwing myself at you, you don't want me? I…What? Am I…I…Fuck you!" she shouts, flailing her arms in frustration as she pouts. She looks even sexier when she pouts.
I laugh and grab her wrist to keep her from moving away. "No. Of course I want you."
"Oh," she nods, biting her luscious lip. "Then what's the problem?" I didn't even know there was a problem. I open my mouth but she just rolls her eyes and pulls me by the collar again and presses her cherry red lips to mine. Her lips are soft and she tastes like alcohol; her kiss is strong and hungry as her tongue slips into my mouth. Her hand moves to my belt and I take a step back, breaking away from the kiss. "What now?" she growls.
"Bedroom," I explain breathlessly. She smiles and jumps off the counter, grabbing my hand and rushing out of the kitchen and through the crowds of people. She's more of a challenge than most girls are, but still easy.
As soon as the door closes behind us, her lips are on mine again, her tongue battling with mine, her dainty hands tugging on the hem of my shirt. She fumbles with a button and groans into my mouth in frustration as she fails to unbutton it. "Not my favorite shirt," I explain while gasping for air. She smiles and quickly grabs my shirt at the bottom and rips it open; there is the soft clinking of buttons hitting the floor. That might have been the hottest thing ever. My shirt is thrown to the floor and hers soon follows. She pushes me onto the bed on my back and straddles me as she works on my belt. Her small fingers fumble at the buckle. That's the only problem with drunk girls, lack of coordination. After a minute she gets my belt off and slowly unzips my pants. "So does this mean I win?" I ask as she I wiggle free of my pants and her lips come to mine again and my fingers quickly unzip her pants.
"Win what?" she asks breathlessly between kisses.
"The bet," I explain slowly, propping myself up on my forearms after she abruptly stops and sits up, giving me an unsettling look. She scoffs and gets off my legs. "What?"
"Never mind," she shakes her head as she throws my pants at me and looks around the room.
I'm confused. One second I'm promised sex, now she's zipping up her pants. I'm beginning to not like her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving," she shrugs and continues to look around the room. "I explained this to you. I'm drunk and bored. You were there and you happen to have a functioning penis. At least I think you do. It was just supposed to be sex. Just sex. You're not going to win. You can't win by fucking me. Those weren't the terms. Sex and love are two completely different things. Ugh! Where the fuck is my shirt?" she shouts, picking up articles of clothing from my floor and throwing them around still ranting about…whatever until she finally finds her shirt and slips it on.
Yes, men know that sex and love are two different things. We use that knowledge to our advantage. Women don't. Well, they aren't supposed to. This isn't fair. She's not playing by the rules. "Now I got to find someone else to fuck," she says under her breath. Someone else? I'm right here. Lying on a bed. Giant hard on. Why look for someone else? "I'm sure I can find someone else to sleep with me, since you're too big of a pussy," she groans. She looks in the mirror, fixes her lipstick, and runs her fingers through her hair, then turns back to me. "Never mind. I think I saw Jacob out there. He's always good for it," she explains with a roll of her eyes and walks out the room, closing the door behind her. I fall back onto the bed, grab a pillow and try to smother myself with it, screaming in frustration. I am so confused. I hate this woman. Yet, at the same time, I am oddly intrigued by her.
