I'm frantically hopping around, trying to pull on shorts, while looking for my shoes.
I step on Jess's flip flop and almost faceplant into the corner of the wall. Adrenaline pumps and I pray I make it out the door in one piece.
The floors creak as I make my way around the den, into the study and through the french doors.
As I walk into the kitchen, the white moonlight streams through the panes in the window and my stomach flips when I open the door.
Outside, the night air is ink black and mellow calm... crickets chirp, and the cicadas do what they do.
The grass is plush under my shoes as I make my way under the tall king palm, passing through the to the cool foliage sprinkled along the edge where the pacific coast irises stand tall and beautiful. Thoughts of Charlie and how he loved to garden skitter through my mind.
I hear twigs snapping as I get closer, and I can see a tall, shadowy silhouette making his way to the fence.
My heart is beating lightly in my chest, with equal parts, school-girl-crush and excitement, pulsing through.
As I near the stepping stones I can see him better. His tattooed arms are bare and a black tank hangs from his shoulders with the word hype written in white, diagonally across his chest.
Under the canopy of old valley oaks and tall sycamores, he's alternately glancing up and looking back to the ground as his footsteps bring him closer, stopping at the fence, where we meet.
I stand on the other side of the gate, a good foot shorter than him. The light from the post pours over his hat shading his face, but revealing all of me.
"You," He adjusts his hat bringing it up higher on his head... where I can see his eyes.
"I'm Bella," I smile, opening the gate and passing through.
"I remember you." He grabs the gate and closes it behind me. "Sorry I woke you up."
"It's cool, I'm a light sleeper." I give him a knowing look, "Your cousin however..."
"Yeah, tell me about it, right?" He smiles.
I walk through the trees as he follows quietly.
"It's a good thing we were just behind you or else you might've had to take the porch for the night," I look behind me and he meets my eyes, shrugging his shoulders.
"I've slept in worse places... wouldn't have been a big deal." His deep tone gives me a feeling that he's being sincere, which makes me regret ever saying that.
We weave through the trees and exit beside the apricot mallows Charlie, Tanya and mom planted years ago. I tug a wild lilac free as we cross Jess's yard, coming up on the back of her house without any more words.
We make our way around the side, where the mulch is plentiful and the lewisias line the beds.
The porch light is on as we trod lazily up steps identical to mine. I make it to the door, unlocking it with ease, taking the keys out and backing up enough so he can go inside, "There ya go... that'll be seventy five dollars, please."
He smiles and grabs the hem of his tank, bringing it up, wiping something from his face.
My eyes zero in on the quick flash of his abs and it doesn't go unnoticed.
He continues smiling at me, grazing his teeth over his lips while stepping into my space, reaching inside to turn the light off and making sure the bottom lock is unlocked.
When he pulls the door closed behind him, jiggling the lock again, just to be sure, intensity flares, so I back away and step off of the porch, making my way down the front steps.
"You're out of luck," he says and I turn to see him reaching into his pocket, pulling out a few bills, "I've only got fifty-five on me."
"I guess you'll just owe me then," I call over my shoulder. "Maybe I'll let you get my tab the next time I come to The Clubhouse."
"Is that right?" He laughs under his breath, looking to me, "Wait up... I'll walk you back."
I smile so high I can feel it in my cheeks as he jogs down the steps, looking better than any guy has a right to and I catch a glimpse of shiny steel and the back of a tire.
I walk towards the other side of the house, where his bike is tucked into the shade.
I sense him following behind and the hair on the back of my neck stands as he approaches.
"So, this is yours," I run my fingers down the length of the warm black leather and up to the handle bars.
"Custom... just for me," he toes the tire.
"You ever been on the back of a real bike before?" He tilts his head, his jaw a straight line, lips so full and his stance, so manly.
"Aside from a few crotch rockets in my younger years, no." I give him a crooked smile, waiting for him to make fun, but he reaches in his pocket instead.
He pulls a key out, moving closer and asks, "Want me to be your first?" He smiles wide and I giggle at the innuendo, thinking if I could turn back time.
He steps to the other side and swings a leg over, grabbing the bars, kicking the stand and walking it back, into the drive.
"What... now?" I say quietly... feeling thrilled but at the same time, like really?
When he's got it where he wants it, he looks over to me.
His hat is pulled low again, and he's got one arm stretched out, holding on as the other rests on his black jeans that pour into his boots. The dog tags around his neck reflect the street light, and he's a model right now.
He is straight out of the pages of a magazine.
He pulls me from my daze when he takes his hat off, nodding this way, "Hop on the back of this bike, girl."
As I walk to him, I notice that his hair has grown on top, just long enough to comb to the side. Shaved on the sides, in back and still short, but grown just enough to make the distinct part that's shaved high on the side.
It takes me a minute to get situated, and to trust that he'll hold us up and not let us spill over. He pulls his hat snug and finally grabs my hands from both sides of his back, "Listen girl, you've got to hold on if you're gonna ride with me," and wraps them tightly around him.
His obliques bulge and his abs feel warm and god... they feel good.
When he's got me locked tight, a loud rumble vibrates through my core and we move.
.
.
.
The streets are bare and there's nothing but yellow lines on pavement, the night air and the two of us, pealing through the wind.
The lightweight feeling of the ride is a thrill. The power of the bike roars beneath us and Briggs' strong muscles control each curve we take.
I think about how we must look, the picture of us riding through the early morning. Me with short shorts, no bra, a white tee and my hair swirling in the wind. Him, straight off the pages of an H&M ad, and the two of us strapped to these two wheels without a soul in sight. I don't know if I'm more in love with the thought of it, or the reality.
When I feel his forearm cover where my hands meet, I bring my chest closer to his back.
A broad back, so wide across his shoulders, slimming towards his waist where I try to keep my hands just above... scared that I might touch his crotch. That would be a little too forward.
We ride and ride until the valley streets, lit up by posts, darken to the desert roads, where the hills are darker than the night and the light from the bike illuminates the stretch before us.
I have no worries and no thoughts aside from how nice this is and how beautiful I feel.
My hair trails behind me as we cut through the crisp desert air and I bring my nose a little closer, leaning in to where his neck is trimmed and I breathe in deep.
He's so kept. From head to toe, he's so tough but he's so damn manicured it's intimidating... he's prettier than I am.
His neck smells of a light cologne... not too musky or strong, just light and crisp, a tiny hint still there.
I rest my chin on his shoulder and fully relax into the ride.
He tilts his head a few minutes later as he slows, "You good?"
I tell him yes as we pull off at a boulder and he turns us around. I unlatch my fingers and place both of my palms flat against his chest, lightly holding... but taking this opportunity to feel him, now that I'm comfortable.
He's all strength and solid muscle, and I still feel beautiful behind him as we ride silently back home.
I drift off in a daze as we near town... fantasizing that he pulls onto a dark street, comes to a stop and cuts the engine as we sit in the darkness, in the middle of a quiet road with no lights.
He turns around, straddling the bike facing me, and reaches for my neck... bringing his lips closer to my own.
We reach Jess's house before my fantasy reaches its peak and he pulls back to the side of the house.
When his feet touch the ground and the rumble quiets, instantly, the reason to touch him is gone and I've got to keep my hands to myself now.
It felt so easy, touching him... him touching me.
Jess always talks about energy and spaces... how spaces feel, the energy people give off. Briggs is just easy. Easy on the eyes, easy on my nerves... he's just easy.
Pretty much the opposite of Edward Cullen.
We don't say much... and not much is needed.
The night is calm and the mood is relaxed as we walk back and when I'm almost to the door he looks at his watch, "Shit, it's five o'clock, time got away from me, sorry."
I just stare at him, like... go on.
"Jess has talked about you for years, you know..." He twists his watch and I notice the tiny nose ring in his nostril for the first time. He just gets more enchanting with every glance. He continues, "Bella this, Bella that." He pokes my belly, "Now I can put a face with the name."
I giggle, "Yeah, I imagined Briggs to be much shorter, skinnier and less tattooed... but I can't say I'm disappointed," I twist my fingers together and sway side to side, feeling a tinge of awkwardness.
I'm not much of a game spitter. It's pretty clear that flirting isn't my forté so I break the ice, "And I'm pretty sure you got me pregnant on that ride, so."
"He laughs and lightly pinches my side, tickling me again and I fold, laughing.
He stands up straight and pulls his lid down low, where his pretty eyes are shadowed and all that's visible are his lips.
"Thanks for letting me in, I'll keep the key on me from now on."
"You're welcome," I open my door and go inside, turning when he speaks.
"Do me a favor before I go?"
I look back to him and he reaches to lightly graze his thumb over my chin, "Smile for me again?"
I smile bright, because how can I not. He's charming.
"Yeah," he licks his lips, "I'll sleep on that smile."
He turns and I'm a puddle of goo as I watch him walk back. His muscular back, his gorgeous biceps... how he walks with such confidence, his butt, the way he wears the hell out of the clothes he has on. How he walks... his swagger. My god.
Butterflies flutter as I lift the quilt, thinking about the fantasy and the almost kiss and I fold myself back into the couch, where Jess hasn't moved an inch and where I hope my dreams will pick up where my mind left off.
.
.
.
Three days later
You know when you say something, and it's just... why the fuck did I just say that.
This is that feeling.
Edward is at my door, staring at me like he does. Like he has no time for this and how I'm such a bother.
The sunlight blinds me when he moves and I cover my brows to see him.
I'm standing here with my wet hair in a towel, and I'm wearing a god awful puffy, purple terry cloth robe that mom passed down when I wouldn't quit using it.
"Thank you so much for bringing it to me." I'm still seeing black spots from the sun's blinding rays but I can make out half of his face.
He has an all professional serious look as he backs away, "No problem."
A tan colored Suburban arrives and I wonder where the bill is, so I yell out to him, "What about the bill? How much do I owe you?" He ignores me, walking toward his ride and within seconds he's in the passenger seat, and out of my driveway where he's just dropped off my car, which looks better now than it did before I wrecked it.
I close the door and head to the kitchen with regret. I shouldn't have even gone to the door.
Jess is working all day so Alice, Angela and their friend Rose have invited me over to hang out. A girl Rose knows is in town and having a party at her parents fancy beach house tonight. I told them I'd go along. Trying to meet new friends and all.
.
.
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A/N: Edward says he'll see you at the party.