Chapter 4: 50 First Dates
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its related characters or story elements. I have simply twisted them to my own uses.
BPOV
I listened at a crack in the door for his knock and heard Rosalie's delighted squeal of "Edward!" as she opened the door for him. I tried to picture him in my head to prepare myself for seeing him again. I wasn't sure where this night would lead; certainly my imagination and its corresponding areas in my lady bits were conjuring up vivid possibilities, but the reality was that I hadn't been in a situation like this in…well, ever. Everything with Jacob had just sort of fallen into place. It was just inevitable that we would get together; after all, we were such good friends. And then it was inevitable that we would get married, because we'd been together so long and we were just so perfect for each other. It was even inevitable that we would break up, because in the end, we grew up into different people.
With Edward, there were many possibilities and no inevitabilities. The only things I could count on were that he would be dazzlingly gorgeous standing out there in my living room and that I would be flustered by him. I took a deep breath, looked myself over in the mirror one last time, and then stepped out into the hallway. He was standing by the door, still talking to Rosalie when I entered the room. Turning to me, he seemed to lose his train of thought, and he smiled at me in a way that had my heart racing and made my mind go blank. Seriously, what was this power he had over my brain? One smile from Edward could completely halt all of my higher brain functions. I walked up to him as though drawn there by some outside force.
"Hello, Edward," I said quietly. I could feel the blush on my face as he continued to gaze at me.
"Hello Bella," he answered. "You look beautiful."
I blushed harder. "Thank you," I whispered. My mind flashed back to our kisses in the bread shop, and my whole body warmed at the memory.
Someone coughed nearby, startling me. I'd forgotten about Rosalie completely.
"Sorry Rose," I grinned at her sheepishly. "Surprise, it's Edward."
"I see that, Bella," she answered, one eyebrow raised. "I was trying to get him to tell me exactly how this came to pass, but he's quite stubborn about keeping it a secret."
I glanced at Edward. He winked at me.
"Right, well, Rose, sorry, no time to talk just now, must be going. Have a nice night!" I laughed and took his arm. Rose stamped her foot.
"Bella! No fairrrr!" she wailed. Edward opened the door for us and I darted out, still laughing, before she could pull us back in for a proper interrogation. He closed the door behind us, and I wrapped my arm around his bicep again, bracing myself for the now-familiar surge as we connected.
"She's going to give me the third degree later, you know," I told him as we walked down the stairs to the parking lot. "Rose is nothing if not persistent."
"Oh, I'm well aware of that," he chuckled. "Now, Miss Bella Swan, are you ready to go to dinner?" He opened the car door for me and paused, waiting for me to get in. I stepped toward the car, but hesitated and lifted my head to his as we stood on opposite sides of the door. He was leaning down against the frame, and in my heels I was high enough that our faces were close. I couldn't wait any longer. I reached out and touched his face, and then closed my eyes and kissed him lightly, wanting to remind myself of the feel of his lips against my own. As I pulled back he moaned softly, and I opened my eyes to find them level with his. The expression on his face was almost tortured.
"What is it?" I whispered. "Did I…do something wrong?"
He huffed in amusement and grinned crookedly at me. "No Bella, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why do—did—you look so upset just then?"
"Bella, Bella," he shook his head slowly as he repeated my name. "I'm just trying very hard to be a gentleman and escort you on a proper first date, and you're already tempting me into less-than-gentlemanly thoughts more appropriate to a third or fourth date." The crooked grin returned. "I'm just a fragile man, Bella," he teased. "You have to go easy on me."
I cocked an eyebrow at him. Less than gentlemanly thoughts, hm? Suddenly, going easy on Edward was the absolute last thing on Earth I had any intention of doing. I slid into the passenger seat and he closed the door. As he took his place beside me, I reached out and touched his leg. As in the diner, the muscles there twitched and tightened under my hand, and I had a pretty good idea by now exactly what that meant.
"Well, you know, Edward," I purred at him. "We've danced together, had breakfast together, kissed in a bread shop, and done battle in the arcade. According to my calculations," I moved my hand farther up his thigh, and he closed his eyes and groaned in response. "That makes this our fifth date, so all bets are off."
He reached down and put his hand on mine, stopping my very persistent upward motion.
"Bella," he growled low. "You don't remember dancing with me, and the bread shop and arcade were all part of the same time together, so by my count that makes this our third date, maximum."
I leaned toward him and whispered in his ear.
"That suits me just fine, Mr. Masen."
EPOV
She was going to be the death of me. Plain and simple.
I had come to her apartment tonight determined to treat Bella the way I thought she deserved to be treated, and not the way that those other men in the club treated her, like an object, something to be used and discarded. I wanted to get to know her mind over a nice dinner and intimate conversation. If anything more happened between us, tonight or ever, I wanted it to be special, something with real meaning, not some frenzied, lustful act.
But lust was beginning to win out. She whispered huskily in my ear and squeezed my thigh with her long, slender fingers, and I couldn't help imagining those fingers wrapped around another part of my anatomy, those warm lips against my skin. I closed my eyes again and tried to stifle my erection by mentally reciting baseball statistics.
"Dinner," I croaked out. Bella sat back in her seat, her bottom lip protruding in the sexiest pout I'd ever seen. She pulled her hand from my leg, but I caught it with my own and held it between us. Our eyes met, and I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. Her expression softened. I started the car and we pulled out into the night.
When we walked into La Bella Italia, I nodded to the hostess and asked for a private table. She seated us in a round booth enclosed by etched-glass panels that separated us from other patrons. The booth faced a wall of windows overlooking a lake, and I could see the moon reflected on the water.
"Beautiful," Bella murmured as we took our places.
"It's okay," I answered. "But it pales in comparison to you."
She blushed deeply, and the color in her face seemed to light her up from the inside. I wanted badly to kiss her, but I knew doing so would be a mistake. If I kissed Bella again, now, I would never want to stop. It was hard enough just to break eye contact with her. Our bodies were close together in the booth, and I could feel the warmth from hers radiating into my own. I grasped my menu tightly and tried to distract myself with choosing an entrée, but none of the words before me registered in my brain. The server came and went, and we ordered, but I couldn't remember what I'd asked for. I was too focused on Bella. The way she pursed her lips as she read over the menu. The way her hair fell across her shoulders. The glow of the candlelight on her pale skin. The deep V neckline of her dress and how it showed off her delicate collarbones and the swell of her breasts.
"You're staring at me, Edward," she said after several minutes of silence. She was looking at the table as she said it, but then her eyes shifted up in my direction. Her fingers were playing with the napkin in her lap, and I realized suddenly that I was making her uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Bella," I replied. "I'm just…you're…" I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't make her feel more awkward or make me sound a bit obsessed. "I'm happy that you agreed to see me tonight."
"I'm happy that you asked me." She stopped and looked up. "Tell me, why do you and Emmett have different last names?"
I laughed quietly. "Well there's a question from out of nowhere," I teased.
"Sorry." She ducked her head. "I was just wondering is all."
"Well, the truth is, we're stepbrothers. His father, Carlisle, married my mom when we were kids. Carlisle was a widower, and my mother and father divorced when I was very young. My father moved to Chicago, and although I saw him from time to time, we were never very close. Carlisle's the only real Dad I've ever known, and Emmett's been my big brother—in all ways, good and bad—ever since."
"You and Emmett seem close."
"We do. Every time he comes home after one of Jasper's movie shoots or press junkets, we always take time to hang out. That's how we ended up at Denali the night I first saw you; it was our 'guy night,' although by the time you and Rosalie arrived Emmett had already ditched me."
I cringed as the words left my mouth. I didn't want Bella to think my brother was a player; she might be less than pleased to have her friend involved with him. If I screwed things up for Emmett, he'd rip my head off. But Bella just nodded.
"Yeah, Rose has ditched me on occasion as well," she commented. Then the realization hit her too, and her eyes widened. "I mean, er, I don't mean to imply that she sleeps around or anything, Rose just knows what she wants and goes after it, I guess."
"I won't tell Rose you said anything if you don't tell Emmett," I grinned. "Sounds like they're made for each other."
"I hope so. Rose is very happy right now, and I'd like to see her stay that way for a while." A shadow crossed her face as she said this.
"How did you and Rose meet?" I asked, wondering again about the odd relationship between them and the way that Bella always seemed to follow Rosalie's lead on things. Bella's face twisted and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering.
"Er, well, we met through my old job. Rose was married to one of my supervisors." She hesitated, and I could see that something about the subject bothered her.
"Bella, what is it?" I reached out and put a hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"
At that moment the food arrived. Bella made a show of patting my hand and smiling at me, then dug into her mushroom ravioli with gusto, effectively ending the conversation for a time. I couldn't help but notice that her squirming had increased the distance between us in the booth; we were no longer touching, and I couldn't feel the heat from her anymore. Confused, I picked at my own dinner—eggplant parmigiana? I hate eggplant!—and tried to find my way back to safer topics, but my brain wouldn't let go of the puzzle that Bella presented. We ate in awkward silence.
Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore.
"Bella–" I started, but she interrupted me.
"So do you have any other brothers or sisters, or is it just you and Emmett?" She was clearly turning the conversation back to me. I wanted to know what had upset her so badly, but in the interest of salvaging our date I let it drop.
"It's just the two of us," I answered. "Although Jasper's like another brother to us. He spent a lot of time at our house over the years. My parents used to joke about putting him on their taxes as another dependent." I hesitated and then plunged forward, hoping that I wasn't hitting another landmine. "What about you, Bella? Do you have any siblings?"
"No, I'm an only child," she replied. "My parents split when I was young too. My Dad's a small-town cop outside Seattle, and my mom lives with her second husband in Jacksonville. You might know her husband, actually—you said you like baseball, right?"
I nodded. "Who is he?"
"His name is Phil Dwyer. He's played mostly minor league, but he's been called up to the majors once or twice."
"I've heard of him. He plays for the Jacksonville Suns, right?"
"Wow, you do know your baseball," she chuckled. "No one I've ever talked to has heard of Phil or the Suns before."
"Well, let's just say baseball is a bit of a passion of mine." I paused. "Actually, obsession is probably the word for it."
"Do you play?" she asked.
"I did, in high school. Blew out my knee sliding into third base my senior year, had to give it up."
"I'm sorry." She raised an eyebrow at me. "Guess we'll have to be careful about how we slide into third base then. Wouldn't want to blow anything."
Suddenly my cock was doing a seventh-inning stretch. Playful Bella was back.
BPOV
I was determined not to let the memories sour my night with Edward. I was grateful for the arrival of the food; it gave me time to process my reactions and push the darker thoughts aside. I watched Edward pick at his dinner, hardly eating, and I was worried that I'd already ruined things. I saw him take a breath and realized he was about to say something. Terrified that he'd want answers I couldn't give, or worse, want to end the date early, I'd interrupted him with small talk—family, sports, and the best distraction of all, sex.
Not that I had to feign interest in the first or the last subject. I really had been curious about his family, and I was very, very interested in sex with Edward.
Baseball, not so much.
Still, it had its uses. Edward's jaw had dropped slightly at my very explicit suggestion, and I congratulated myself on deflecting any potential serious talk for the time being. The server returned, and we ordered coffee and dessert. We bantered back and forth for a bit and then settled into talking about movies. Talking with Edward was fascinating; his knowledge of film history was encyclopedic. We were soon swapping our favorite lines and scenes and trying to stump each other.
"Beautiful, naked, big-titted women just don't fall out of the sky, you know." I was down to Kevin Smith movies; Edward had beaten me on all the Hollywood classics.
"Oh, don't I know it!" he chuckled in response. "Dogma, Kevin Smith." His face broke into an enormous grin and he winked, one hand in a thumbs up and the other pointing at me. The Buddy Christ.
"I surrender!" I laughed, throwing up my hands in defeat. "Serves me right for playing against a ringer."
Our dessert arrived. We'd opted to share a cheesecake. I took a forkful and lifted it to my mouth. It was delicious, and I savored it for a long moment, closing my eyes and letting the flavor slide over my tongue. A groan from nearby brought me out of my bliss, and I swallowed and opened my eyes to find Edward staring at me, his eyes burning. He slowly slid his fork into the cake and broke off another small bite, then raised it before me like he had with the pancakes at breakfast. I parted my lips and leaned in, capturing the morsel and the fork with my teeth and dragging them slowly backward, letting him feel the pull and vibration of my teeth against the metal.
I closed my eyes again and moaned quietly at the taste and the smooth feeling in my mouth, imagining sinful things about both Edward and the cheesecake. I could hear his breathing hitch in response to my foodgasm, and when I opened my eyes this time I had barely a second to register his face close to my own before we were joined. I let my tongue slip out and trace the lines of his lips. They were soft and tasted of coffee. I moaned again at the taste, and he pulled away. I watched, confused, as he broke off another piece of cheesecake and brought it to his own mouth. After his mouth closed over the fragment he leaned toward me again. This time as we kissed, our tongues met. The taste of the cheesecake, mixed with the flavor and feel of Edward's mouth against my own, had me humming with pleasure. I could feel Edward's smile, but I was too busy retrieving the rest of my dessert.
"Bella…" Edward's voice was low and rough. We were both breathing heavily now.
"More," I whispered, and broke away. I reached down and took his fork from him, using it to scoop up another chunk of cheesecake. I fed it to Edward, but I was on him again immediately, letting the fork clatter to the table. I brought my hands to his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and cheekbones as our mouths moved in unison. I gripped handfuls of his hair as I held him to me, determined to draw every last second of ecstasy from this moment. His arms wrapped around me and I was engulfed in his scent and his strength and his warmth.
I felt safe there. Safer than I'd felt in months.
It was some time before my brain caught up with my body and I recalled that we were still at the restaurant. We released each other slowly and unwillingly. Looking up at his hair, now twisted in wild directions by my fingers and hands, I started laughing.
"What?" he asked.
"You have sex hair," I gasped between giggles. He grabbed a spoon and stared at his reflection. Then his face broke into the sexiest grin I'd ever seen. He leaned toward me once more, his breath tickling my ear.
"Next time, Bella, I hope I'll get to see your sex hair."
Next time?
NEXT time?
As in, not this time?
Edward reached for his wallet to pay the check, and I sank back into the booth, deflated. He was clearly taking this gentleman thing seriously. He held out his hand to help me out of the booth, then continued to hold my hand as we walked through the restaurant and out to the parking lot. He held the car door for me and again offered his hand to help me out when we arrived back at my apartment, and then he walked me to my door. Very proper, very gentlemanly. I was torn between being touched at the gesture and wanting to burst with repressed desire. I made one last-ditch attempt to change his mind.
"Would you like to come in?" I asked, then bit my lip again in the way that always seemed to attract his attention. He stared at my mouth, and I waited for him to kiss me again, but he shook his head.
"Not tonight, Bella, thank you," he replied, but his eyes gave him away. He wanted to come in. I could see the heat behind his carefully neutral expression. He lifted his hand to my cheek and wrapped his fingers into my hair. I watched him carefully, not wanting to distract him from the battle he was clearly fighting between what he wanted and what he thought was right, but praying all the while that the former would win out. I watched his eyes darken and licked my lips in anticipation. Suddenly his fist tightened in my hair and he crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me roughly.
It was incredible. It was sexy. It was what I wanted him to do, so very much.
Then it wasn't.
Flashes burst behind my eyelids. The images rose up and overwhelmed me.
Fear.
Horror.
Disgust.
Blood.
Pain.
I pulled away from Edward, gasping.
"I'm…I'm sorry Bella…did I hurt you?" His face was horrified and concerned, but all I could feel was the fear. The tears would soon follow. I had to get away from him. I fumbled with the key in the lock and avoided eye contact.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you for tonight." The door opened and I stepped inside quickly. "Good night Edward."
I closed the door, leaving him standing there, bewildered and alone.
EPOV
I wasn't quite sure what was worse, the whiplash from Bella's erratic mood swings or the raging case of blue balls I was developing. Driving home I pondered the mystery of Bella Swan. I realized that despite all the time we'd actually spent together, I knew very little about her life. I knew the barest outline of her family. I knew she was divorced, but that was about it. Did she grow up here in Phoenix? What did she do for a living? It occurred to me then that neither she nor Rosalie ever seemed to be working; Rose had spent days with Emmett before he left. She and Bella regularly went out on Thursday nights and recovered on Fridays. Today was Wednesday, and we'd spent the day together. She hadn't gotten a single phone call or excused herself to check in with anyone in all that time.
Was she rich? Her apartment indicated otherwise, but she drove a relatively new Volvo, and I'd seen Rosalie's BMW convertible. She didn't dress expensively or flash a lot of jewelry; quite the opposite, really. Tonight's dress aside, she was usually understated in her clothes, comfortable but sexy in a natural kind of way.
Very sexy.
Two things I knew for sure: Bella's dark moods and sudden flights were connected to Rosalie somehow, and whatever the story was, it was something that frightened her.
Was that why she followed Rose's lead on everything? Did Rose have some kind of power over her, literally? Bella had spoken of Rosalie interrogating her about us. She'd certainly been direct in her questions to me while I waited for Bella tonight. Rosalie Hale was a woman who got what she wanted.
Hale.
The name triggered something in my subconscious, but I couldn't bring it forth. I'd never met anyone by that name, I was sure, yet it was familiar.
The flashing lights in my rearview mirror brought me out of my distraction only to realize I was being pulled over. The speedometer read 20 miles above the posted speed limit. I groaned in frustration—with Bella, with my rotten luck, and especially with myself. Emmett was going to kill me for getting a ticket in his Jeep. He'd made me swear to "treat her with respect" until he got home.
Then I remembered the glasses of wine I'd had with dinner, and I knew I was completely fucked.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
"Your blood alcohol was elevated, but thank heavens not over the legal limit," Carlisle told me when they released me. He and my mother had come to pick me up and bring Emmett's Jeep home. "This isn't like you, Edward, are you okay? Is there something wrong?"
"I'm fine, Carlisle," I answered, rubbing my face in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. Sitting in a cell for several hours had left me drained. "I had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, and I just forgot about them, I guess. I was…distracted. I'm sorry you had to come out so late."
"We're always here for you, Edward, you know that. I just hope she was worth the risk," Carlisle was frowning at me. "You realize what they do to DUI offenders here? They post their mugshots on the Internet. Your career would have been over."
"I know, I know, okay?" I was annoyed. I loved Carlisle, but I wasn't a child to be scolded. I'd fucked up. I knew it. I didn't need it pointed out to me in minute detail. We stepped outside the police station and my mother was waiting by the Mercedes. She hugged me with a viselike grip before looking me in the eye.
"Edward Anthony Masen, don't ever do that to me again! You could have killed yourself, or someone else!"
"I wasn't legally drunk, Mom," I sighed, trying to calm her down. "I was on a date and I had some wine, that's all."
I could see the magic word date setting off bells and whistles in my mother's head. Her eyes lit up, all concern over my traffic violations and stupidity forgotten.
"A date? You were on a date? With a girl?"
"Yes, Mother, a girl. I haven't started hitting for the other team," I teased. "Now please stop squealing, this is not that monumental an occasion. I do date from time to time, you know."
"Tell me about her. What's her name? Do you like her? What does she look like? When do we meet her?"
The questions ran together. If I didn't stop her soon, Mom would start planning my wedding.
"Esme," Carlisle cautioned gently. "Let's get Edward home so he can sleep. I'm sure he's worn out after everything tonight."
My mother pouted. I laughed.
"Tell you what, Mom, I'll ride with you and tell you what you want to know, okay?"
She clapped her hands happily and stuck her tongue out at Carlisle, who started laughing as well. He held his hand out for Emmett's keys.
"Good luck, son," he patted me on the back and tried to look serious. "It was nice knowin' ya." He walked away toward the Jeep, still chuckling. I leaned down and opened the door for my mother. She met my eyes and reached a hand up to my cheek.
"I'm still upset with you, Edward," she warned. "Please be more careful. I can't lose you."
"I know, Mom," I answered. "I'm sorry."
She sat down in the seat and started the car.
"Now close the door and get into this car, I've got questions for you!"
If Rosalie's interrogation of Bella was half as intense as my mother's of me, I felt sorry for her. I did my best to answer her questions, but my mind was still full of my own.
Thank you for reading! Reviews/comments/hellos are welcome too (hint hint). Thank you to o_Oza, MsKathy, KayCannon1, and emmward for being my prereaders and sharing their thoughts.
Story Notes:
Dogma was written and directed by Kevin Smith and released in 1999. It stars Ben Affleck and Matt Damon as fallen angels trying to get back into heaven through a loophole in Catholic dogma. The "Buddy Christ" is a prop used in the film. The movie is dirty and raunchy (like all Kevin Smith movies) and was controversial for its handling of religion for comedic purposes, so if you're offended by that, don't watch it. If you're not offended and still haven't seen it, do, if for nothing else than to see Alan Rickman as the voice of God and Alanis Morrisette as God herself.
I have never been arrested for drunk driving, so I don't actually know the procedure. I do know, thanks to some research, that Arizona posts the pictures of DUI offenders on the Internet. Let's just say Edward drew the short end of the stick and got a cop in a bad mood. He was speeding, after all. And maybe, given his raging blue balls and general frustration, Edward didn't exactly grin and bear it when the cop stopped him. But it had been a while since they'd had the wine, and they hadn't had that much. So he was not driving impaired in any way. Just don't want y'all to think this Edward is irresponsible like that. ;)
