AN: I know it took forever for me to get this out. My bad. On the bright side, because of the delay, you've been gifted with an extra-long chapter!
I think I said in a previous update that this story was set in 2012. It was, at the time I started it. But I cannot for the life of me remember what cell phones and everyday life were like 7 years ago, so now it's set in modern day, because I have a terrible memory.
Rain Delay
As I absorbed what he said, I couldn't fathom what he could possibly tell me that would make me not want to date him. I mean, I was already elated that he had used the word "date" in reference to me at all—maybe he had some incurable venereal disease? Maybe he actually was married?
Whatever it was, sitting there and gaping at him wasn't going to get me any closer to finding out, and he was starting to look like a lost puppy. "Um, yeah, okay," I finally choked out. "Let's talk."
He was up, off of the couch, as soon as the words left my mouth. As he started pacing in front of the fireplace, I surreptitiously leaned forward to press the mute button on the remote sitting on the coffee table. He said nothing, just took long breaths and rubbed his hands over his face, tugging on his hair.
"I'm adopted," he finally said. "Did you know that?"
I shook my head. I knew very little about his personal life, I realized, and adoption wasn't a part of his Wikipedia page.
"I was adopted when I was six, by Carlisle and Esme Cullen. They're amazing parents. The best I could have ever hoped for, really." He looked at me like he was imploring me to understand. I, not knowing where this was going, nodded encouragingly for him to continue.
He sighed and resumed pacing. "They're my parents. Truly, they are. But a couple years ago, when I signed my first arbitration-eligible contract, I decided to hire a private investigator to try to find my birth parents. I don't… I don't remember much about what my life was like before I came to the Cullens. At least, I didn't think I did. But the investigator found my mother, and things started coming back to me. I tried to spark up a relationship with her anyway." He took a deep breath. He stopped pacing, his back to me, his hands folded behind his back, hunched over slightly. "She killed herself, two years ago. I found her. I was on my way to meet up with her. We were supposed to go out to dinner. I was late to pick her up."
There was an unspoken something there. It's my fault, he was suggesting. He didn't say it in so many words, but he was thinking it.
"What did you mean when you said that you didn't think you remembered your life before the Cullens?" I asked quietly.
"I didn't, at first," he said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "But when I reconnected with my birth mother, things started coming back. I remembered my father a little. When she died… it was like the fucking floodgates were open."
There was a beat of silence, and then he sat carefully back on the couch next to me. I angled my body towards him, but he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. "I struggled. I thought about quitting baseball for good. I couldn't deal with the guilt over my mother's death, or the new memories I suddenly had." That must have been when his legendary depression started—the stuff that had, until now, been just a rumor. "I still struggle with it all the time, Bella. I'm so fucked up." He finally looked up at me, and gave me a weak smile. "Now tack that on to the struggle that already exists in starting a relationship with a baseball player. Our schedules are bound to be nearly opposite, I'm gone on the road all the time; I've had relationships fail just because there was a lack of trust, and she couldn't trust me on the road. I wouldn't be able to give you the attention you deserve. I can't… I don't know. I can't deal with it."
I wasn't quite sure where to start on that revelation, so I just blinked at him for a minute. The schedule thing… I could come back to that. That was basically nothing.
"We all have scars, Edward," I finally said quietly, trying to look him in the eyes. He kept avoiding my gaze, but finally, reluctantly, looked at me. "I'm really sorry you had to deal with all that, and you're still dealing with it. But it's not a deal-breaker for me."
He didn't look convinced. "I just want you to know what you're getting into here."
"Fine." I looked at him for a hard moment before turning my arm over and gesturing at my left wrist. "See for yourself."
They were faded now, and had been for some years. In fact, I'd finally gotten to a point where I felt comfortable wearing short sleeves. But when I pointed them out, they were impossible to miss-dozens of white lines on my only slightly darker skin, remnants of past pain.
Edward sucked in a breath. "Oh."
My heart fell. I confided in almost no one about this—truly, no one knew. Not Renee or Charlie, or even Jake. Alice knew, but only because she'd seen them. I remembered clearly the first time she noticed, her blue eyes full of curious concern, and she traced one cold, thin finger across the most prominent of them, before giving me a hard look and moving to a different subject. We never spoke of it. We didn't need to. It was understood.
I was startled to notice almost the same feeling, as Edward's fingers gently caresses the marks. He looked up at me with flames in his emerald eyes. "Do you still…?"
"No," I responded quickly. "This is all of it. I haven't… not in a long time."
His body relaxed somewhat, but his eyebrows furrowed further. "Why?"
"Why did I stop? Therapy."
"No, why did you start."
I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I couldn't tell you if I wanted to. My therapist said it was repressed pain from my parent's divorce. I always figured it might be because I took care of them—both of them—more than they really took care of me. Jake says depression is just something in your brain, and it doesn't always have a cause… and though, from all the research I've done, that's the most likely explanation, it feels unfulfilling." I laughed suddenly, though the sound was humorless. "You know what the weirdest part is? The smell of blood makes me nauseous. But I guess—I don't know. When I was doing it to myself, I didn't breathe or something. I don't know. It was weird. Like I was another person entirely."
My candor surprised me. I hadn't spoken to anyone about this since I stopped seeing a therapist when I graduated college. But he had been so open and so vulnerable to me, that it only felt right to reciprocate.
"Be my girlfriend."
I gaped at him. "Wait, what?" Was this the same man who, just minutes ago, was trying to tell me I shouldn't date him?
"It's probably selfish," he admitted sheepishly, "and sounds a little childish to ask you to be my girlfriend. And I know we've only really been out once-twice if you count that night at the bar, which I don't—but I'm a man of exclusivity, Bella, and you're fascinating to me. I want to get to know you better. And… No one has opened up to me like that in so long."
Silence once again hung in the air.
"It's a little fast," I finally said nervously.
"It's extremely fast," he said seriously, though his eyes were filled with laughter.
"I'm worried people may talk."
"It's Cincinnati, not New York. And if anyone talks, it'll be because they can't figure out how a guy like me ended up with someone as beautiful and funny and amazing as you."
More silence.
"So… girlfriend?"
He smiled widely. "Girlfriend." And then he closed the gap between us once more with a gentle kiss.
When my clothes were finally dry, and after indulging in a bit too much of the Ben & Jerry's stashed in Edward's freezer (which he teasingly implored me not to tell his nutritionist about), Edward drove me home. I tried desperately to keep my eyes off the speedometer, but failed miserably, though he did slow down on the city streets around my apartment. When he pulled up in front of the building, he assessed it carefully.
"You live on top of a theater?" he asked with some interest. "Is it any good?"
"They're great," I assured him. "They're actually a troupe, so they don't have any casting calls or anything for their plays, and it really shows when they work together that they have a lot of chemistry. I saw a genderbent version of Julius Caesar they did a few months ago—it was fantastic." Alright, well, there I went with the babbling again. He was looking at me, amused, but patiently listening.
"Sounds intriguing. You'll have to take me sometime, Miss Swan."
I flushed. "That would be nice."
He leaned in. "While I would love to walk you to your apartment door, I'm afraid this is a no-parking zone, and if I found a place to park and walk up with you I'm not altogether sure I could remain a gentleman."
Then don't! screamed some part of me. I leaned in for a chaste kiss though, and he whispered a Goodnight. I didn't turn around until I was safely in the lobby of my apartment, but the Volvo was still there, and inside I could just see Edward, watching me, smiling.
Jake was in my apartment when I walked in. "Did your lease expire and you just didn't renew it?" I asked, flopping down next to him on the couch and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bag in his lap.
"Someone was out late," he sang, ignoring me. "How was your date with that hot hunk of baseball ass?"
I slapped him playfully on the arm. "It was hardly a date. I was sitting in the upper deck, so I was pretty cold and wet when I finally saw him, and we just went back to his house so I could take a shower and dry my clothes."
Jake's eyes shot up, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I understood what he heard in them. "Bella, did—"
"We didn't sleep together," I mumbled. "He made me dinner, we talked. It was nice."
Jake had never been one to second-guess things I said and took my words at face value. He seemed to relax a little bit at my assurances of chastity. There was no need to tell him about how far Edward's hand had gotten under my shirt during our final makeout session on the couch. "What did he make you?"
"Steak."
Jake exhaled through his teeth. "He's the perfect man," he mumbled to himself. I smiled brightly.
Edward texted me the next morning before the game started to ask me to join him at his house for "game night". I wasn't sure exactly what it entailed, but he told me to invite whomever, so I texted Alice only to discover that Jasper had already invited her to the same event and let me know she'd pick me up. I invited Jake as well, but he had a "date", which I guessed meant his long-time booty call, Corey.
I was still in my pajamas when I turned on the 12:30 game, clutching my mug of coffee. It threw me for a minute to see Edward on TV. It was much clearer today, and the bright April afternoon sun glinted off of his bronze locks as he ran his fingers through his hair before replacing the red cap. The announcer was talking about his production in the first two games of the year, but I could hardly hear him. He looked amazing—he was smiling at someone off-screen and warming up by jogging backwards from the dugout. The red Sunday jersey made the red tones in his hair stand out, and the emerald green of his eyes pop on camera.
So, yeah. Amazing.
The camera changed to the opposing pitcher warming up in the visitor's dugout, and I shook my head to rid myself of the Edward-induced fog. Last night still felt surreal. Had I imagined the whole thing? My dreams were, admittedly, pretty vivid usually, but I couldn't imagine that I was creative enough to come up with all that on my own.
Besides, I think my lips were bruised from all the making out.
The game ended up being a pitcher's duel. Edward had one hit, but no RBI or runs scored, and it was his only time on base. He did make a fantastic grab on a bullet down the line, though, while playing off the base on a shifted infield defense. I grinned when he came up from the full-body catch. He didn't smile—just held up two fingers to signify the second out-but his eyes were gleaming.
Emmett ended up being the one to save the day and drive in the only run in the game for either team. After the 7-hole hitter, a kid named Danny Reyes filling in for the usual center-fielder, got on-base via an error, Emmett doubled, and the kid was fast enough to score standing up. That was in the seventh inning, and it gave Yasmani Alvarez, the third pitcher in the rotation, the motivation he needed to finish with a four-hit complete game. It was an unbelievable start, considering he'd missed the last month of the previous season with a thumb injury.
I shot a quick congratulatory text to Edward before shutting of the TV, not wanting to get too caught up in the post-game show. Sweeping the first series of the year was impressive. Sweeping the first series against a division rival—even if that rival wasn't necessarily expecting to be in contention that year-set the tone for the entire season.
I was still thinking about how incredible Edward looked in his tight baseball pants when I turned on the shower. My body felt like it was awakening from a long slumber. The kisses from last night started rousing it, and now my own musings were making me… Hot. Anxious.
Oh, let's face it. I was turned on as fuck.
It wasn't like I was a total newbie to sex. I was a red-blooded American girl who'd been to college, after all. My experiences had been fine, I suppose, but I hadn't been with anyone in over a year and didn't feel particularly like I was missing out on anything.
Until now, that is. I wanted Edward. If we were going to do this "girlfriend/boyfriend" thing, I was hoping it would come with perks. Of the sexual variety.
Like sex, I wasn't a newbie to self-pleasure either, but my brain was on fire as I climbed into the shower with the new material from the last few days. I hadn't felt like this in a long time. Maybe ever. Though Edward had tried to be a gentleman last night, I felt him against my hip during our makeout session and was well aware that he was big. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he might be bigger than anyone I'd been with before. God, I wanted him.
I didn't waste any time once I climbed into the stream of warm water. It was nothing on the rain shower head in Edward's house, and I vaguely recollected how useful the detachable hose might be at this moment, but it did the job. I wanted this over fairly quickly—I just knew that if I went to Edward's house this evening in this state, I would be liable to do something embarrassing. I was already soaked when I reached my finger down, and not from the shower. It only took a few flicks of my clit and the memory of Edward's dazed eyes the night before to bring me over the edge.
I washed up quickly and chose what I hoped was a simple but cute outfit of a black Henley and skinny jeans. With a few hours to go, I debated on what to do until Alice picked me up, and finally decided on baking cookies for whatever "game night" entailed. I knew at least Jasper would be there as well, and figured Edward probably had some other friends or teammates coming by as well. The best way to win people over, in my experience, is through baked goods.
I was just sealing the Tupperware of cooled cookies when my cell chirped to alert me that Alice was waiting out front. My toe caught on the edge of the carpet as I rushed out of the kitchen to slip on my flats, and I blushed, even though no one was around to see my fall. I was still grumbling under my breath when I slipped into the passenger seat next to Alice.
Her dad bought her a canary yellow Porsche for our college graduation. It was a sort of "sorry I couldn't make it, let me buy your love" gift, and though I knew Alice was still a little bitter about the whole thing, she adored the car. It was her baby. She bought it a priority parking spot at her luxury apartment building (well, technically Mr. Brandon bought it, but he'd basically bought her anything she wanted and otherwise ignored her since her mother died when Alice was a baby).
Despite the strict "no eating in the Porsche" rule, Alice's eyes lit up when she saw the Tupperware. "What did you bring?" she asked as she sped away from the building.
"Cookies. And yes you can have one, but only once we get there and everyone else gets a chance as well."
"Oh boo," she pouted, though she knew full well she'd put away the entire batch if given the opportunity. "Anyway, catch me up! Jake says I'm behind. What's up with you and Edward?" She sang his name teasingly, and I flushed.
"We, um…" I took a deep breath. "He asked me to be his girlfriend."
Alice's squeal almost made me cover my ears from both its intensity and pitch. "Oh my God, Bella, you can totally have a joint wedding with Jasper and I!"
I gasped. "Holy shit, Al, did Jasper propose?"
"Not yet," she said, waving her hand as if it were irrelevant. "But he's the one. I feel it. And Edward is totally the one for you, Bella, mark my words."
My nostrils were flaring and I was well aware I looked a little crazed, an expression that remained when Alice was ringing the bell to Edward's house after parking down the block on the street. The door swing open to reveal none other than Emmett McCarty.
"Ball girl!" he yelled with a huge grin. I blushed even harder. Edward pushed past him to greet me with a warm smile.
"I'm so glad you ladies could make it," he said as he ushered us inside. Alice gravitated immediately to Jasper, who was comfortably slumped in the big living chair with a bottle of beer hanging from one hand. He used the other to pull Alice into his lap.
My head got a little fuzzy when Edward leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. I reflexively followed him when he pulled away, my eyes hooded, and heard Emmett laugh from behind me.
"Not now, Ball girl, we have a whole night ahead of us for you to get freaky!" he waggled his eyebrows, but a perfectly manicured hand reached out and slapped his shoulder. "Ow!" I looked gratefully at Rosalie, who gave me a sly smirk in return.
Alice chimed, "So what exactly does game night entail?" and I looked expectantly at Edward, but Emmett was the one who spoke up.
"Oh man, Ball girl, you should see the setup we have downstairs. It's awesome. Some of the other guys should be showing soon, with their girls."
"We do this most Sundays if we're at home," Edward continued. "It's kind of a tradition. Jasper and Emmett are always here; our other teammates come if they have time, as well as some of our local friends. We just, you know, play cards, video games, have a few beers… whatever."
My eyebrows raised at the mention of beers. "Don't you play tomorrow evening?" I asked skeptically.
"No one's gettin' drunk, darlin'," Jasper drawled. "Well, unless we have an off day on a Monday. Then all bets are off."
"And we actually have a few of those this year," Emmett said happily. "Used to be that we only got a Monday off if we were traveling on that Sunday, but the new rules changed that."
I smiled and nodded. Rosalie grabbed my hand, making me jump a bit in surprise, and began to pull me towards the kitchen area. "Drink, Bella? Alice?" Alice jumped off of Jasper's lap to follow us, then stopped.
"Oh my God, Bella, the cookies! You left them in the car! I'll go get them." Before I could say anything she was darting out the front door, and Emmett was looking at me with wide, eager eyes.
"Cookies?"
Rosalie rolled her eyes at him. "I will cut you off," she threatened. "You know the rules. You can have a few, and that's it." She looked at me conspiratorially. "Season diet. He needs a lot of calories, but not as many as he seems to think he does."
Edward's kitchen was just as glorious as I'd anticipated, and I kicked myself for not finding my way in here the previous evening. It was spotless, all the appliances gleaming, and the huge stainless-steel sink was full of ice and beers on one side. "Beer," Rosalie said, gesturing at them, "or… we can make margaritas." Something about the glimmer in her eye when she said margaritas gave me the impression that her version was far boozier than the ones I got on my last visit to Phoenix when I visited my mother, but I nodded at her. She gave me a wicked smile and spun around the breakfast bar, hovering over the sleek bar cart in the dining area and carefully selecting a few bottles. I, honestly, had no idea what went into a margarita, and heaved myself onto a bar stool to watch the process. Rosalie seemed like a seasoned pro, scooping ice into the Vitamix blender, adding liquid from both bottles and well as something from the fridge, and blending it all together. Alice reappeared as she turned off the blender and squealed through her mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.
"Are we making margs?" she asked once she swallowed, bouncing a little. I nodded, and Rosalie passed me a triangular glass full of the greenish liquid, which she'd rimmed with salt before pouring the margarita into. I took a tentative sip, and was surprised at how good—and boozy—it was.
Emmett walked up behind us, startling me when he boomed, "Can I have one too, Rosie?" He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes and I giggled. He also had my Tupperware of cookies in his arm, cradling them like they were a baby. Rosalie rolled her eyes.
"Go put those downstairs with the rest of the snacks. I'll bring you one."
Emmett happily bounded down the stairs, with Jasper and Edward on his heels. Edward gave me a pleased smile before slipping into the basement, and Alice was off, margarita in hand, as soon as she heard "snacks", leaving Rosalie and I alone in the kitchen. She poured the last of the blended drink into two glasses and looked at me.
"Wanna come down? We don't have to wait up here; if anyone else shows up, they know they can let themselves in." I nodded and slipped off the bench—losing my footing on the way down and ending up directly on my ass. Rosalie whipped around the bar in time to see me groan and roll with a hand on my sore ass.
"So Edward wasn't lying," she said with a dry smirk. "You really are a klutz."
"Yeah," I grimanced, pulling myself up with the counter edge. "It's a curse."
"Amazing you caught that foul like that then."
My face turned hot. "Are we still talking about that?" I grumbled. Rosalie laughed and took my margarita, leading me towards the stairs down.
"If you and Edward work out, that story will go down in history as one of the most romantic events in human history."
I mean, yeah. That was pretty true. I smiled a little to myself thinking about it. I'd given up on a romantic meeting story, thinking I'd go the way of most people—we met online. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's kind of the generation's "we met in a bar." Not special. Rosalie was right—it was embarrassing and I would never get used to seeing the footage of it happening, but it sure was a hell of a story.
If we worked out. Still a huge "if" at this point.
And the thing is, even though Edward had asked me to be his girlfriend, the title didn't seem to mean much at the moment. We just didn't really know each other well enough yet. But his comment about exclusivity—that made sense to me, and if the title was a reflection of not seeing other people while we got to know each other, then that made sense.
I was thinking about this when Rose and I reached the bottom of the stairs. Edward and Emmett looked up from their game of foosball with matching goofy grins.
"Heard that crash from down here," Emmett said with a gleam in his eye. "Fall down, did we Bella?"
"I'm surprised she made it all the way down the stairs in one piece," Edward mused.
I stuck out my tongue at them. Rosalie rolled her eyes and handed me my margarita. The room was huge—a warm, pale tan color again, but with shag carpeting that somehow didn't seem outdated, plush furniture, and, besides the foosball table, a pool table and what seemed to be a few vintage arcade games. I noticed a few speakers up on the walls with the mancave-like décor as well, and wondered if the whole house was wired and I just hadn't noticed.
"Come on Bella," Rose said, pulling me towards Jasper and Alice, sitting on a huge, overstuffed chair on one side of the massive room. "Girl talk. Jasper, go away."
Jasper pouted. "Y'all can't do Girl Talk with me? I can Girl Talk. I can Girl Talk all day." Alice giggled but swatted at him.
"You go hang out with your men and do maly things!"
Jasper got up, but leaned back down to kiss Alice and whisper, a bit too loudly, "Oh darlin, I'll be doing manly things to you later." I think I threw up in my mouth a little, but as he sauntered away, Rosalie swatted him and Alice started after him with the most lovestruck expression I'd ever seen on anyone over the age of 16.
Rosalie rolled her eyes again—something I was beginning to notice as her trademark. "That's my brother for you," she said, settling next to Alice on the couch and gesturing to the recliner across fro them, where I took a seat.
"Brother?"
"Twin brother," Rosalie qualified. "It's how I met Emmett."
Yet another thing I didn't know about the team, but looking between them, it made complete sense. I wasn't sure why I didn't see the resemblance earlier—the same blonde hair, aquamarine eyes, tanned skin, and radical cheekbones graced them both with an almost unnatural beauty. Rosalie, though, seemed to lack a certain trait Jasper had.
"What about the accent?" I asked, curious.
"I ditched that shit the second I hit college," Rose said, taking a large swig of her drink. "Jasper went to school in the south. I went to Chicago. It's hard being that Texan girl with the obvious accent so—I dumped it." She made it sound so easy, like getting a haircut. "Jazz is lucky. Half the dudes in the league have accents like him."
Alice finished her drink, then said brightly, "I like the accent."
But I was distracted—over on the other side of the room, the boys had switched to a game of pool. Edward was leaning over the table to prep for his shot. Those jeans fit him like a glove—not too tight… But certainly not exactly what I would call baggy.
A wolf whistle from next to me made me jump a little. Rosalie called, "Nice ass, Ed!" and I flushed red, knowing she'd caught me staring. Edward looked back, winked at me, then took his shot.
"So, you tapped that yet?"
I almost choked on my sip of margarita. Rosalie was looking at me, one eyebrow raised in amusement, Alice next to her trying (and failing) to hold in a laugh. I coughed and held up a hand.
"I don't…" I sputtered, "I… we…"
"Oh relax, Bella," Alice giggled. "She knows you guys are total prudes. We talked about it earlier."
I blinked. "You talked about my sex life without me."
"Well duh. It's just Rose."
And that was that. Rosalie McCarty was officially Just Rose, and had woven herself into Alice and I's friendship effortlessly. I smiled to myself. Rosalie was a lot to handle—even I could tell that from my brief encounters with her so far—but I liked her. Plus, Alice liked her, and Alice hadn't let me down about a person yet. I couldn't wait to introduce her to Jake.
