THIS ONE IS FOR ROB
WHO WAS SPOTTED IN SUSPENDERS
AND MENTIONED WU-TANG
WE'RE JUST SAYIN...

Twilight no es jandco's o wtvoc's.

Sorry about the dearth of updates. Blame the twilighted original fic contest, which we're both finalists for, incidentally. Heh heh...

Bella

Something smelled good.

Like soap and sleep and whiskey and warm and dammit, that was inviting because I was freaking freezing.

These sheets are too soft, too expensive, and I'm still freezing.

Before I opened one eye it occurred to me that my alarm never went off.

Then it occurred to me that I had Target sheets and they just aren't this soft.

Fuck.

I opened one eye.

Definitely still in Edward Cullen's bed.

I dared to turn my head and there he was, in all of his aggravating glory.

The fucker wasn't even using the covers, he was just…clinging to them. I briefly wondered how many members of the Forks Academy cheer squad woke up freezing ass next to Edward, who was most definitely not a cuddler.

His back was to me and he was sprawled at the very edge of the bed.

I watched his smooth back move ever-so-slightly with each breath he took and enjoyed the quiet time. I could just lay there and look at his shoulder blades and the nape of his neck; I quite liked him when he was asleep.

I imagined he wasn't an arrogant prick for a bit and then I imagined putting my hand on his back.

And then he rolled on to his back and ruined it all.

"Are you still here?" he asked, his voice gritty with sleep and he didn't even bother to open his eyes.

"Bella Swan doesn't do the walk of shame…even when there's nothing to be shameful about. You're giving me a ride."

"I can give you something to be ashamed of," he said, half heartedly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Clearly, he felt obligated to make a snarky comment, but it was just too early for him to put any conviction in it.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said, hopping out of the bed. "And really, if I was on the fence before, I've made up my mind now. Never gonna happen. You're a covers stealer."

"A what?"

I looked around his room for my shoes so I didn't have to look at him; I started rambling what I hoped was witty and urbane-sounding.

"A cover stealer. And the worst kind of cover stealer. You take them in the night, leaving your co-sleeper freezing, and then you don't even use them yourself—"

"If you wanted the covers—"

"It's more than that. I believe what we do in our unconscious speaks volumes. You steal covers, just so no one else can have any. And not only that, you do it to the unsuspecting. Obviously, you are egotistical, jealous, selfish and have huge coveting issues—"

"All true. And you may be on to something with true character coming out in unconscious because you said my name all night long…and I didn't even touch you."

"I talk in my sleep when I am particularly aggravated or disgusted, it's a common phenomenon and—"

"Bella?"

"What?" I asked, turning to face him, despite my burning face and trembling hands…I just had to see him.

He propped himself up on his elbows and kind of grinned, I couldn't be sure, I was too focused on his gorgeous mess of bed head, curling and standing everywhere.

"It's okay to be attracted to me."

I gaped.

"I'm not…attracted to you—"

"Of course you are. I just don't understand why you flaunt an attraction to Emmett and even to Jasper, but with me you just—"

"I don't—"

"Deny all you want, but you should know- I'm attracted to you, and I don't have a problem admitting it."

He just shocked the hell outta me.

Weren't high school guys supposed to play games, or hell, at least not be so blunt about this shit?

"Of course you're attracted to me, Edward. I'm new. You haven't gotten in my pants yet, and you can't say the same for the rest of the chicks at school—"

"No…I mean, I'm really attracted to you," he said, his voice low and grainy and slow.

I stopped breathing and his eyes slowly turned downcast to his lap.

I looked—then let out an audible gasp, because, dammit—it just came out.

His thick morning wood was straining against the thin fabric of his navy boxers.

This was—he was—it was huge, and begging me to just--

"I know, right?" Edward smirked, now staring at my awed expression.

I scoffed and turned back around to regain composure.

"My bathroom is to the left," he laughed, and I stumbled my way into his adjoining bathroom.

There was pale stone and marble everywhere, a Jacuzzi tub and a cove-style shower.

"You're spoiled, aren't you?" I called as I snatched his green toothbrush from its holder.

"Yes," he said, his voice way too close. "And put that down."

I stared blankly at him and grabbed the Crest.

"That's disgusting. Don't," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

I squeezed a big blue blob on the brush and turned the faucet on.

He raised an eyebrow.

I stared at him blankly and put the toothbrush in my mouth.

His jaw dropped and I continued to scrub away my morning film.

Edward closed his mouth and slid out of his shorts.

I didn't look this time. I just couldn't have "asphyxiation by Crest" written in my obituary.

I closed my eyes and heard a low laugh, and then the shower flicked on.

The room got steamy and fresh-smelling and it was safe to open my eyes and spit.

I rummaged through a few drawers and found some soap that was acceptable for a decent face wash.

"Uh," Edward said from the shower, "Mommy has some old Forks uniforms in her closet, three doors down on the left."

"No thanks. Somehow I doubt she wore underwear."

"You just used my toothbrush and now you worry about hygiene?"

"Yes."

I walked out and took the trip down to the closet; I was surprised when it wasn't her bedroom…it was an actual room that served as closet.

Shelf upon shelf of shoes.

A rack of all leather.

A rack of all lingerie.

A rack of aprons? What the hell?

Where were the jeans?

The T-shirts?

This home was unreal.

I grabbed a red belt and high-tailed it out of there and back in to Edward's room.

He was shrugging in to his Forks blazer, hair all tousled and wet and he smelled like shower and toothpaste.

"I smell you've gotten over your germ issue," I said.

He shrugged and assessed my lack of uniform.

"I send you for a skirt, and you come back with a belt?"

I smiled and wrapped it around my waist, tugged a bit at the top, and made a fabulous little dress out of his white-collared shirt while he watched with slight amusement.

"That is…sex."

"Thank you," I said.

"But you won't get away with it. They'll send you home before you walk through the doors."

He went to his closet and pulled out another blazer and a maroon tie.

"This jacket is from freshman year. It'll fit you better," he said, and tossed the blazer and tie over without looking at me.

Then he moved on to the important task of texting someone at this god-awful early hour.

I put the jacket on. It was still way too big, but whatever.

Now the hard part…the tie.

Charlie had been tying my ties; I had no idea how.

I went to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, then put the tie around my neck, and noticed the tip was monogrammed.

EAC

I wondered what the A stood for.

Then I started to insult both myself and the tie as I twisted and knotted and nearly choked to death.

Hmmm.

Not right.

I untangled it and started again.

Still not right.

And again.

Fuck it, who needs a tie anyway?

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Swan?"

"Debating the necessity and function of ties."

Suddenly he was behind me.

I looked at his reflection in the mirror.

God. He was a head and a half taller than me and his shoulders looked so wide compared to mine—

His head cocked to the side and his jaw brushed the starched collar of his shirt and I had to use every ounce of self-control to not bend myself over the counter and beg him to—

"You need help."

"Um, well—"

His arms went over my shoulders and he grabbed on to the tie.

My eyes locked with his in the mirror and I felt his chest on my back and then the back of his hand brushed my chin and I shivered.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he kept our eye contact and started to talk very quietly the entire time just…locked on me.

"Always make sure the thicker end is longer than the skinnier end," he whispered, adjusting the tie. "Then, take the thick part, wrap it once," he continued, slowly doing the steps as he said them, "twice…"

"Uh…huh…" I kind of uttered.

His head dipped a bit, so his chin was grazing my temple and goose bumps spread over my skin, because he was so warm and his breath was hot in my hair and his fingers so close to my tongue—

"Pull it up through here…and then…through the loop…"

I stared at his reflection, amazed at the way he could just do this, without even looking—and amazed he could do anything at all, because I was positively incoherent.

He straightened my tie and let his palm run down it and I tensed when I felt his hand between my tits.

He laughed softly and took a step back.

My tie looked better than it did when Charlie did it.

"Thank you," I smiled and it wasn't just for the tie I was thanking him, it was for letting me see him just be…him.

"Anytime," he grinned, then smacked my ass hard and walked out of the bathroom, ending one charade and picking up the next again.

I sighed and followed him out.

Edward turned to say something but got cut off by Tanya's voice floating up the stairs.

"Mommy made pancakes," she called. "Come get breakfast!"

I opened my mouth to remind him of my disgust for the "mommy" talk.

"I'll be down in a second, Tanya," he called, then gave me a quick wink.

"Thank you," I said.

He gave a slight nod and we trailed downstairs to the kitchen.

On the buffet island was a plate with a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with blueberries for the eyes and nose.

I didn't know whether to laugh or gag and Edward sneered at me.

"Darling, you don't want to be late—" Tanya stopped short when she saw me, which was fine because I think we all needed a moment to gather our thoughts.

She was wearing an apron…and a piece of fabric that was supposed to be a bra. It couldn't have offered much support, but she didn't need it—those puppies were packed so hard with saline, they'd stand through the apocalypse.

Edward proceeded to offer me a fork.

I reached out to take it, because what the hell else could I do?

"Edward, you know Mommy doesn't approve of sleepovers on school nights," Tanya said, eyeing me.

I stabbed in to Mickey's ear.

"Bella's dad is out of town. You were babysitting," Edward said dryly before popping a blueberry in his mouth.

This appeased Tanya, which made me drop my fork onto the plate.

I didn't want a role in this game.

"Oh! Well then, can I get you some orange juice?" she asked me. "I wouldn't want your father to think—"

"I'm good. Thanks," I said, edging for the door. "We don't want to be late, Edward…so…"

"I'm eating," he said, shoving my discarded fork in his mouth.

I stepped forward and smiled and let my tits push into his side and I could actually hear him gulp down his bite of Mickey.

"Well," I said, fishing in the pocket of his blazer until I found his keys, "I'm leaving."

I dangled them in front of his face for half a second before bolting out of the kitchen of pseudo incestry.

I won.

We settled in his car and he turned the radio up loudly, too annoyed to speak to me, but not too annoyed to check out my legs on his leather passenger seat.

I watched his jaw tense as he watched me cross and uncross my legs.

Good.

When we pulled in to the parking lot, I turned the radio down.

"People are going to make assumptions," I said, gesturing to his shirt and monogrammed tie.

"Yep," he said, swinging the car smoothly into his choice spot.

No.

I couldn't let him let people think I slept with him.

Rosalie would catch wind of this and never believe I didn't spread 'em for Cullen.

"Well…you can't let them—"

"I most certainly can—"

"Wait. I thought we were, like, friends. Shouldn't you be protective of my honor?"

This sent him in to hysterics.

"Shut up! I'm serious."

"Look, I don't kiss and tell. People make assumptions. I don't feel the need to defend myself or anyone else—why do you care if people think we fuck?"

"Why do you want people to think we do?" I asked, suspicious—his reputation didn't need the boost.

"I don't talk about my sex life either way, so—"

"If you don't tell people it's not true…I'll tell everyone you were a horrible lay."

"Everyone who counts already knows I'm good at pussy. No dice."

"I'll say…I'll say you called out Jasper's name."

"I'll say you resemble a cross between chewed bubble gum and roast beef below the belt, and keep in mind, no one has seen you yet. And if I start that rumor, no one ever will," he shuddered.

"You! That is horrible—"

"I won't say a word about any of it, I already told you that—just don't test me, Bella."

I'd have to lie.

"Edward," I said, widening my eyes and lowering my chin, "I just…want to start fresh here, okay? It's hard enough going to a new school, and I don't want a filthy reputation. It's just so hard as it is, and I thought, you know, we were friends…"

I trailed off, hoping he could see some kind of earnest innocence.

He laughed.

"I have no idea what you're actually trying to pull—but you're full of shit," he said. "But I am intrigued by whatever you have going on—so fine. But when I tell people nothing happened, I'm going to tell them I didn't even try."

"Fine," I said, pleased.

"Good. Now get outta the car. People wanna see me."

I rolled my eyes and hopped out of the car, bookless and bagless.

The parking lot loitering came to a standstill and Edward and I were both surprised that all eyes weren't on him- they were on me.

Tyler Crowley passed by and snickered at Edward.

"What, bitch?" Edward asked.

"New girl kicked your ass right off the poker table last night, huh?"

I grinned proudly.

"Psssh…beginner's luck, and I went easy on her…during the game, anyway," Edward said, and tugged on the monogrammed tie around my neck.

He didn't.

He did.

He fucking just implied he fucked me…he was either the biggest asshole ever or had severe short-term memory issues.

"Nice," Tyler said, leering at me, and then stalked off to spread the news.

"Fuck. You," I growled.

"What? I- oh shit, Bella I didn't even—"

"Of course you didn't—you can only consider yourself—"

"It's not that big of a deal—"

"Go fuck step-mommy," I said, then stormed ahead…into a sea of smiles and cheers.

These people were loving me.

Because I beat Edward at poker?

Because I rubbed up on Emmett?

Because I wormed my way into Cool-as- Ice Jasper's inner circle?

I didn't really care why. All I could do was hope my newfound popularity also came with credibility—because I was going to have to convince Rosalie that I didn't sleep with Edward.

Alice Brandon was at my side in a flash, Jasper trailing like a lovesick James Dean behind her.

He took one look at me and handed me the flask.

I gratefully accepted without a word.

"So…wow. People are just going crazy over you, Bella," Alice began. "Beating Edward at poker…well, it just doesn't happen—"

"Alice Brandon—let's cut the shit, shall we?" I asked in a pleasant tone, stopping in the middle of the parking lot.

Jasper raised his eyebrows in amusement and re-pocketed his flask.

"Okay," Alice shrugged.

"I know you are Queen Bee Rosalie's go-to gal and yet here you are, coming to me under the guise of blossoming friendship to fish for information for Rosalie. I genuinely like you Alice; I will be your friend, but know that I am well aware of your loyalty to Hale."

Alice considered this with narrowed eyes.

"Okay," she finally said with a smile. "I like you, too, Bella."

"Good," I said, and Alice linked her arm through mine.

"Love the amendments to the uniform," she said.

"I didn't sleep with Edward Cullen," I said. "Despite what you may hear today, I didn't…so you can go tell Rosalie that."

"Oh, I know you didn't sleep with Edward."

"How?"

"He doesn't have the Cullen Post-Coital Glow. Most people can't spot it, but he's been a dear friend of mine for years—I know post-coital Edward," she said, nodding across the lot in his general direction. "That's not him, that's more…dear God—that is brooding and distraught Edward! What did you do? I've only seen this particular Edward once before. When they changed the design of U.S. currency bills- he was really attached to the design- and God, he didn't come out of his house for days when they stopped circulating the older—"

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with me," I said, cutting her off.

"Hmm…" Alice mused, trudging forward, one armed linked with mine, the other with Jasper's. "On to bigger and better things. Daddy got me backstage passes for the next Foo show in Seattle—"

A groan escaped Jasper's throat and my heart broke a little for him, though I couldn't really quite figure out what a guy like Jasper saw in this ball of oblivious energy.

"What's the matter, Jas?" she asked.

"Nothing. I just feel a little sick suddenly."

"Lay off the breakfast booze," Alice said. "Anyway, me, Rose, Jasper, Emmett and Edward are all in. You should come, Bella. I have an extra pass, and you're one of us now."

One of us now.

Oh God.

I didn't want to be impolite to my only hope of infiltrating Rosalie's psychotic mind.

"Uh, when is it?"

"The thirteenth," Alice and Jasper said in unison.

Alice's voice was dreamy and excited; Jasper sounded like he had just announced his execution date.

"I can't on the thirteenth," I said, happy to have a valid excuse. "It's my birthday."

Alice stopped dead in her tracks like I had just announced I had syphilis.

Jasper and I both jerked to a stop as she cemented herself, eyes wide.

"What?" I asked.

"If you're one of us, you get the honor of me throwing your birthday party…and Bella, I throw the best parties—"

"But your concert—"

"I will skip the concert for this. Taylor will be back—"

"Oh, Alice, I don't know—"

"You won't have to do a thing. Just show up and I promise you 200 of Forks' Elite will be there. This shit will rival that MTV show."

"I don't really do birthday parties," I said, looking to Jasper for help.

He was staring at me with pleading, desperate eyes.

"Fine, okay. Birthday party," I said.

Alice kissed my cheek, whipped out a Blackberry, and was gone.

"Why don't you just bed the girl and get it over with?" I asked Jasper as soon as she was out of ear shot.

"Not your business, Swan."

"Um, I just committed myself to a birthday party at which I won't know half the guests, and the other half I don't even like…all for your benefit. It is my business."

"Thank you for that. Her parties are horrendously pretentious and debauchery-ridden," Jasper laughed at me. "And I don't want to just bed Brandon…I want…more."

"What are you gonna do? Just run drummer-cock-interference for the rest of your life? Won't work, Jasper. Make a move."

"Let's talk about your night instead, high roller."

"Yes, let's."

"You're a hustler."

"I am."

"I think I might be falling for you, Swan," Jasper said, putting his arm around me and eyeing Edward, who was getting pawed by Jessica Stanley near his Volvo.

"Are we still playing the Piss Edward Off Game?" I asked, leaning in to him.

"Always. It's a never-ending battle of calculated moves and wit."

"Just so you know, he's got an iPod full of Chili Peppers songs in his pocket. Did Alice have a tryst with Chad Smith?"

"Fuck. Yes. Kiss my cheek; I want the first assault of the day."

I complied when I was sure Edward was watching and let Jasper lead me into the school.

Throughout the morning I was revered for my poker skills and I was glared at by ghosts of Edward's Past Fucks.

I debated whether or not to Sharpie "I didn't do Edward" on my forehead.

I passed him four times in the hallway.

The first time he looked at me with sad, apologetic eyes.

The second time he yanked on my elbow and I jerked away.

The third time he flipped me off.

The fourth time he mouthed "sorry" and I pretended not to see him.

Finally lunch rolled around and I found myself at a table sandwiched between Jasper and Emmett with Alice and Rosalie on the opposite side of us.

Rosalie looked down at her Gucci watch and smiled up at me.

"Matter. Of. Time," she mouthed.

I sneered and turned my attention back to Jasper and Emmett while Alice prattled about party plans.

"What's this about, Big Pimpin'?" Emmett asked, tugging on my tie. "I thought we had something."

"I didn't touch Edward," I said, looking at Rosalie while answering Emmett.

"Oh, I don't care if you're a playa, Babygirl," Emmett said, and before I knew what he was doing, he shifted me onto his lap. "Just don't get yourself owned."

"I won't," I smiled down at him.

"Looks like you already did," Jasper said, fiddling with the hem of the Edward shirt I was donning.

"Please. I stole his clothes, won his money and pilfered a ride to school. I think it's Cullen who got owned," I smirked.

"Damn…you are—"

Emmett got cut off because just then, Edward was at our table, glaring at the three of us.

"Dude, we were just talking about you," Emmett said.

"Yeah, I caught that," Edward said. "I got played, owned, whatever—listen, Bella, I really want to talk to you—"

I noticed Rosalie's eyes darting between Edward and I with a morbid fascination- with the wide, thrilled eyes of a fucking master orchestrator.

She was getting off on this.

I had a sick feeling that more was at stake than just the pissing match between Rosalie and I.

"Don't you have another rumor to start?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Don't act like a fucking baby. Talk to me," he said, getting irritated.

"No."

Then he grabbed my wrist and I was on my feet.

"Hey," he said, his voice only slightly raised, but the entire cafeteria stilled and all eyes were on us.

My heart started to pound and everyone stared and I was positively frightened—I had no clue what he was about to do.

"Bella Swan schooled me in poker last night. I tried my damnedest to win that game, but I didn't. Bella won my money—and not even with a stroke of luck—she won because she's that good."

The cafeteria broke out in whispers and the buzz got louder until it was full-on cheering.

"I'm not done," Edward said and I gulped. "She slept at my house. She's wearing my clothes and I drove her to school, which is all way more than any other chick at this school has ever gotten from me…and she didn't even put out."

I stood there in a numb daze trying to figure out what the hell he was up to.

Was he so determined to get in my skirt that he was offering himself up for public humiliation…in front of the people who worshipped him? For me…a girl he barely knew?

No.

Edward Cullen definitely had more motive than just me…as did Rosalie.

But still…he was going balls-out in front of the school to give me some integrity. So for right now, I decided to just be in this moment with him. Because it felt too good not to.

I slid my wrist from his grip until we were palm to palm, and just like that, I was holding his hand.

"So, everyone can shut the hell up about my big loss and where I put my dick last night. I haven't slept with Bella," he said, then looked down at me with a devious, crooked grin. "Yet."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

so remember how bella and emmett were mackin' last chapter?

well, we've decided that it needs to be an outtake. in emmett's POV. Heh heh

ALL BECAUSE WE LOVE QJMOM

and we want her to be happy. we just do.

however.... if you want it.... yer gonna need to review. It's not getting posted.