Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
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The Drum is quiet. I'm supposed to be arranging flyers artistically on the counter and cataloguing some new items in the data base but my mind is on tonight so I ask my friends for any ice-skating tips.
Amaranthe has never ice-skated.
Scott has been once. "Wear two pairs of socks," is his only advice. "It'll stop blisters."
But Alison thinks she's an expert because her aunt saw Torvill and Dean win a gold medal at the 1984 Winter Olympics, and Alison has watched the performance on video. Many times, it seems. She describes graceful spins and elegant twirls, dramatic leaps. None of it is relevant to my needs but she's so enthusiastic I don't have the heart to tell her that, or that I don't really know who Torvill and Dean are.
"Don't you just bend your knees and push off?" Scott asks.
Alison rolls her eyes. "Glide, not push." She looks around, checking for customers, but it's quiet right now. She turns back to me. "Come on, Bella, glide. Watch me."
She bends one knee and slides forward, repeating the action with her other leg until she's gone maybe a dozen feet. Her ballet flats slide over the vinyl flooring. I try too, I bend and push, but my rubber soled sneakers stick and grip so I do a clumsy stumble instead and fall on my knees.
I scramble up again as a customer comes through the door and the skating lesson is forgotten as the shop gets busy.
But even though no-one can give me any solid skating tips, they're all curious about my date. As we pack up at closing time I don't say much, just telling them his name is Edward and we go to the same college. Alison tells me to bring him to her party on Wednesday night. I tell her I'll mention it to him, but I don't know if I will.
When I get home I start trawling through my closet and soon my bed is covered in clothes as I try to decide what to wear. Wet denim is really uncomfortable, so jeans are out, especially if I spend as much time flat on the ice as I expect to. So I choose a pair of black leggings I hardly ever wear and I reach for the oversize flannel shirt that will come half-way to my knees. But then I stop. And put the flannel shirt back. I'd look like a lumber jack. A dumpy lumber jack.
In my drawer is a long, fitted, V-neck sweater of cream wool that reaches to my thighs. I bought it for last New Year's in New York, when I wore it over jeans and under a thick coat, and it's stayed in the drawer ever since. I pull it on now and it works well with the leggings but when I look at myself in the mirror my face flushes. I've regained most of the weight I lost when Edward left. In New York almost a year ago this sweater was roomy on me, but now it hugs me, you can see where I curve, and how much I curve, and even though I'm covered from top to toe, I feel as exposed as if I'm wearing a bikini. I bite my lip as I twist and turn in the mirror - I never wore anything like this when I lived in Forks. But I'm not in Forks now. I'm not at high school anymore. And I have to admit, as I examine my reflection, I look good. So with a deep breath I decide - the cream sweater it is. I tie my hair back with the red ribbon, and I'm ready.
But now I'm nervous as I wait for Edward to arrive.
I am determined not to sit gazing out the window, watching for him like a love-struck school girl. Instead I put away the clothes that scatter my bed.
When my phone rings I jump, startled. I wonder if it's Edward, changing our plans or cancelling, but it's Alice. She almost squeals down the line as I answer, then breaks into excited giggles.
"Don't tell me!" I say without any preamble. "Whatever you've seen, whatever he's told you, don't tell me!"
There's a pause as the giggles subside.
"I haven't seen anything," she says and I can hear she's still smiling. "The visions aren't like watching television, it's not like the scene selection option on a DVD." I smile at her analogy. "And anyway, I've told you that he's very hard to see since his accident. His mind is all over the place, all the time."
"So he's said something then? No, don't answer that!" But I'm dying to know. And when she doesn't deny that he's said something I decide it's confirmation that he has.
"So, did he say something about me?"
Silence. My heart picks up.
"What did he say?"
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"Yes."
"Well, we were in the..."
"Wait! No don't tell me." I scrunch my eyes shut as I laugh. "Alice, this sounds like a conversation from ninth grade."
"I've never been in the ninth grade, but I know what you mean."
And now we're both giggling.
"Lets talk about something else," I say, fighting temptation, and Alice launches into a description of Dior's new Spring season.
When I hang up ten minutes later I feel giddy with excitement...and it's not about hemlines and hats in deep shades of plum.
He's been talking about me. I grin and hug myself and look at the clock. Only ten minutes till he arrives.
This really feels like our first date. I know it is for Edward, but I really feel as if I'm getting to know him all over again. There is so much still to learn about him, so much I didn't think to ask before.
He's been talking about me. That has to be a good sign. But I still know I can't assume anything, I know how his mind works and the tide could turn at any time.
When I hear his knock on the door I straighten my clothes, grab my bag and my long jacket, and take some slow, deep breaths...
Let nature take its course, Bella.
-0-
I open the door and there is Edward and I can't help the small gasp that tumbles over my lips. He's wearing a long, black overcoat over jeans and a dark, fitted sweater. The coat has obviously been tailored for him - it sits perfectly on his frame, accenting his height, the lean lines of his body and the set of his shoulders. In this coat, with his bronze hair windswept and hanging over his amber eyes, he is beyond gorgeous. My heart flutters in my chest, I feel the rush of colour to my cheeks. Now I'm so glad I'm wearing the fitted sweater and the leggings. And from the fleeting look of admiration I catch in Edward's face as his eyes move over me, I suspect he is glad too. I realise I'm standing straighter.
"You look very nice," he says, voice tight.
"Thank you," I smile. "So do you."
I turn my head and he catches sight of the red ribbon in my hair. He doesn't comment but the smile spreads wide across his face. And I smile back just as wide.
"Shall we go?" he asks. "If you're ready?"
And he offers me his arm as I pull the door closed.
-0-
We are mostly silent as we drive and Edward has soft music playing on the sound system.
When I ask he tells me the car is a Honda S2000 hardtop. It's seats are deep and comfortable and I smile as I sink deliciously into the leather. My eyes take everything in and though the car is new to me, so much is familiar - the few cd's in the console; the loose change; I know that in the glove compartment there will be two pairs of sunglasses and a pair of gloves to keep his hands from reflecting light if he drives in the sun. His satchel is tossed carelessly on the backseat.
There's a parking receipt from the airport sitting in the console and it shows today's date.
"You've been to the airport?" I ask, pointing at the receipt.
"I picked up Emmett and Rosalie earlier tonight," Edward answers.
"They're back?"
"Yes, but not for long. They fly out again on Tuesday night." He turns and smiles at me. "Told you they travel a lot."
Yeah, that is a lot.
"Where are they going on Tuesday?"
"Brazil."
"Brazil?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. Brazil? Where the sun shines all year round? "Um, is it a holiday?"
"Mm, something like that. Okay, we're here, are you ready?" he grins at me and I realise the engine is off, the car is parked, and we're sitting outside my first ever ice-skating rink.
"Not in the slightest," I groan and Edward laughs.
-0-
Edward was right, the ice rink is almost empty. And it's so big. Apart from a bald man skating solo there are only two other couples and the large expanse of glittering white ice is intimidating.
"Don't look so scared," Edward grins at me as he pays for our admission and skate hire.
"Not scared," I tell him. "Just...apprehensive."
He bends low and whispers, "I won't let you fall, remember?"
It's colder inside than I expected, though Edward tells me I'll warm up once I start moving. The floor is covered in black rubber and there are pools of icy water scattered here and there, shed from the blades of other skaters.
We go to a low bench beside the rink, close to one of the entry gates in the waist-high wall that surrounds it. Edward takes off his coat and underneath he's wearing a thin black sweater that fits him very nicely. He lays the coat across the bench, sits down and kicks off his shoes. I sit beside him, take off my jacket and my boots and pull on the extra pair of socks that Scott recommended.
The rental skates are made of heavy plastic and don't have laces, just two snap buckles that look similar to the ones on Renee's ski boots. I touch one of the silver blades. It's sharp and I pull my hand away quickly before I cut myself.
I watch Edward slide his skates on, adjust the buckles and stand, all in smooth, fluid movements. I try to do the same, I snap the buckles closed but I can't seem to get them tight enough.
"Would you like some help?" Edward asks. I nod and lift my leg, holding it in mid air for him, the buckles of my boot hanging open. He chuckles, takes my foot in his hand and rests it back on the rubber matting as he crouches down in front of me. He has one knee on the floor and his head is bent over my feet as his long fingers deftly adjust the buckles. His bronze hair hangs down as he works, he's so close, I want to pull my fingers through his hair and have to sit on my hands to stop myself. He shifts to the other foot, pulling it forward and giving it the same careful attention. Then he sits back on his heels and looks at me.
"How do they feel?"
I wriggle my toes and nod my head. "Feels good. Not too tight."
He smiles and makes to stand but as he moves out of his crouch overbalances on his skates. He drops back down, throwing his hands behind him for support and they land in one of the icy puddles. He gives me a sheepish grin and I wonder what brought that on. He never stumbles, he doesn't overbalance, but realisation dawns as he stands again, gracefully this time, rubs his palms over his thighs, then holds them out to me.
"They might be a bit cold," he smiles apologetically.
So was this why he suggested ice skating? So he could touch me? The thought is sweet and sad all at once.
"I don't mind the cold," I tell him softly.
His smile widens. "Come on," he says. "Up you get."
I put my hands in his, touching him, his skin, for the first time.
His icy touch sends fire racing through my veins, like I'm alight on the inside and my body is truly warm for the first time since he left me.
There is a sigh from Edward as his hands close slowly, gently around mine. The breath is too soft for me to hear, but I see it in the movement of his chest, the slow parting of his lips. He looks away, blinking, as he pulls me gently to my feet. He's biting his lip. His throat moves slowly.
"Feel okay?" he asks, turning back to me, and for a second I think he means his touch, but then I realise I'm wobbling in my boots. "Are they too loose?"
He bends quickly, one hand still on mine while the other runs a finger around the inside at the top of my boot.
"They don't feel too loose," he frowns, standing again.
"Um, yeah I think the boots are fine, it's me that's the problem."
He takes my other hand again, the heat surges through me once more. I look at the ice and the five other skaters who no doubt come to the late session so they're not bothered by beginners like me. Edward seems to understand. He bends low and speaks softly, his cool breath breezing over my skin.
"I won't let anything happen to you," he promises. Then he pulls back, jerks his head in the direction of the other skaters and smirks. "Or to them."
I roll my eyes and he chuckles.
"Come on, Bella, lets have some fun."
We move slowly, he is so careful as he helps me onto the rink, but as soon as I make contact with the ice my feet slide from under me and Edward grips my elbow firmly.
"Relax," he says. "Lean forward a little, bend your knees. Try not to lift your feet like you're walking up stairs." Because that is exactly what I'm doing, I look like I'm walking up stairs, or on the surface of the moon!
Houston, we have a problem...
"Lower your centre of gravity, Bella, lean forward a little bit when you push off. Try not to tense up, I won't let you fall."
He's so patient, holding one of my hands while I wave the other like a windmill as I try to keep my balance. My legs are sliding all over the place, I know I look like a cartoon character that's stepped on a banana peel. We keep trying, move barely twenty feet across the ice, and then Edward stops.
His lips twist as he thinks, his eyes look down to my waist.
"Maybe…" He lets go of one hand and moves his arm so it's hovering around my waist but not quite touching me. His amber eyes burn with uncertainty and gentle longing. "Would this be okay?"
"This would be okay," I whisper.
He nods, face serious as his arm encircles me slowly, so slowly, until he's holding me, pulling me carefully into his side.
Pressed against him, my whole body breathes a sigh of relief, like it's been tied in knots for two years and now the knots have unraveled and slipped undone; I pull in a deep, long breath. But though my body has relaxed, Edward's is tense. I keep very still.
"Um, perhaps if you put your arm around me too," he suggests, voice tight.
I don't have to be asked twice. I lift my arm and wind it around his waist. He stays very still and so do I. Then slowly, I feel him relax and he exhales a long breath.
"Ready?" he smiles down at me.
"Ready."
He's still smiling as he faces forward and pushes off.
"Remember, move your feet forward, not upward."
And suddenly I'm gliding, really gliding. My feet are just sort of slicing through the ice, this feels so easy with Edward guiding. I start to laugh and look up at him. He's beaming down at me, the breeze playing in his hair as we skate past the others, skate right around the rink...one lap, two laps, five, ten.
"See?" he tells me. "Easy."
He gets faster each lap, I laugh and giggle and when he spins me around I squeal out loud, my head thrown back.
"Having fun?" he wants to know as he watches me, laughing.
"Yes! Yes!" I laugh back as we spin, I watch the walls of the rink fly past, round and round.
"Keep going?"
"Yes!"
"More?" he teases.
"Yes! More!"
He changes tack, releasing my waist and taking my hands, and now he skates backwards, fast, pulling me with him in an elaborate pattern of twists and turns across the ice. My feet stumble a little to keep up but I don't fall. Then he lets go of one of my hands and he lifts me, high as he spins around. I squeal again and hear him laugh, and then see his beaming smile as he gracefully sets me back on my feet.
"Where..did you...learn to skate?" I pant as we stand together, holding hands, while I catch my breath.
"On a pond when I was eight."
I blink up at him, still breathless, realising this is a human memory.
"You learnt to spin and lift like this on a pond?"
"No. I learnt how to get up after falling over on the pond. The spinning and lifting came later."
I nod. I guess the 'later' was post 1918.
"So you were you as clumsy as me when you started?"
"Worse," he winks, and then he wraps his arm around me and we are skating again.
We skate and skate and after about another half an hour I feel I have the hang of it.
"I want to try on my own," I tell him. I half expect him to frown and suggest perhaps I shouldn't, but he doesn't. Instead he smiles, slowly unwinds his arm from around my waist and holds on to my hand.
"Let me know when you're ready to let go," he says.
I find my centre of gravity, and give Edward a nod. He lets go. I wobble, but he's still right beside me, hands at the ready if I need him. I push forward tentatively with one foot and my skate slides over the ice. I follow with my other foot and it slides too. I repeat the process, arms out like I'm trying to fly. Edward calls encouragement, he follows me slowly, giving me space as I move further and further away from him.
And I am moving.
I'm actually skating. I'm clumsy and slow, I have no style whatsoever, but I'm moving. And it feels great.
Edward stands in the middle of the ice now, watching me proudly as I make my way around the edge of the rink, within grabbing distance of the wall should I need it. I do almost a whole lap on my own before I decide to skate back to him. I try to change direction, moving away from the edge to the centre, but I wobble and overbalance. I fumble and flail as I try unsuccessfully to regain my balance but my legs go from under me. It happens so fast, the ice looms up...crap, this is going to hurt!
But of course the crash never comes because suddenly I'm scooped into Edward's arms and he's holding me against his chest.
Breathless, I look up at him, into eyes that are wide and rapidly darkening as he holds me close.
"See?" he whispers. His breathing shallows, his gaze burns into mine. "See? I won't let you fall."
-0-
I pull my jacket tight around me as we walk back to Edward's car. My legs feel wobbly and strange now I'm walking in my normal shoes again. Edward has offered me his arm again and I hold onto him happily...and not just because my legs are like jelly.
Our moment when he stopped me falling is burned into my brain. The rush of fire through my body, the intensity in Edward's eyes, the feel of his hands, his arms...
I remember how he looked away over the top of my head as he released me slowly, and how he took my hand gently in his, and we skated slowly across the ice.
We skated three more laps of the rink before either of us spoke or even looked at the other, but the touch of our skin spoke volumes.
And when we did speak it was Edward offering to buy me a hot chocolate and me saying yes. Of course, the girl from the kiosk tried to flirt with him as she took his order but he barely looked at her. And I chuckled quietly to myself as I watched her attempt, knowing she didn't have a chance. If she had seen his dazzling smile as he presented me with my hot, watery beverage, she would have realised that.
Edward holds the door open for me as I climb into the passenger seat. He slides in behind the wheel, starts the engine, swivels around and rests one arm along the back of my seat as he looks over his shoulder to reverse out of the parking space. I know it's for show, but he doesn't know I'm used to him just reversing straight out without even a backwards glance.
As we head towards home he keeps the conversation light and neutral, though the tension from my almost-fall is still between us.
We talk about our classes. I bring him up to date with Henry the eighth and he tells me about visual phenomena and optical illusions.
"Optical illusions?" I blink at him in the darkness.
"By studying how the brain is fooled, it can show us how it works," he explains. "At least, that's the theory."
He takes one hand from the steering wheel, reaches over to the backseat and pulls a book from his satchel. My leather bookmark is poking out from the top. Edward removes it and places it in the console between us before he hands me the book. It's a psychology text.
"Chapter nine," he smiles. "Take a look. They're fun." He switches on the soft, overhead light so I can see.
I turn to chapter nine and look through the pages. I stare at a sketch of stairs that seem to spiral in on themselves.
"They're incredible," I murmur. "And this one of fish...or are they shoes?"
He's right, the illusions are fun and I study each page, commenting and laughing about the tricks they play, but my eyes keep flicking to the bookmark that sits between us. When I've finished looking at the illusions I pick the bookmark up.
"Was there any particular place you were marking?" I ask.
He looks at the bookmark in my hand, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before he frowns and shakes his head.
"No, it can go in anywhere."
I place the strip of leather on the open page but as I close the book I sense a subtle change in Edward's mood.
I watch his knuckles as his hand grips the gear stick, smoothly changing down through the gears as we come to stop at a red light. His other hand taps on the steering wheel, marking his agitation. I see the flexing of his thigh as he itches to accelerate.
The light goes green and he shifts into first gear. He accelerates faster than he has before, moving quickly through the gears, his hand almost a blur, as the engine whines to keep up. We're way past the speed limit now as we move through the dark streets. I grip the sides of the seat the way I used to in the Volvo and push myself back into the leather, bracing myself like I have so many times before. So he still drives like a maniac, then.
Suddenly, Edward seems to realise what he's doing. He shoots me a fast, sideways glance, and the car slows, the needle of the speedometer drops dramatically back to a more sedate 35.
"Sorry," he murmurs.
"It's okay. I'm used to fast cars." The words are out before I can stop them, and of course now Edward is curious...he loves cars. Whatever was bothering him about the bookmark is forgotten.
"Tell me. What type of cars?"
"Mm..." I stare out the window, gripped in panic. "I don't know, there's not much to tell, really."
I can feel his eyes on me, I know he can hear my heart racing.
"Perhaps another time, then," he says quietly. I turn and he's smiling gently. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
"You don't….you didn't. I feel…very comfortable with you."
There's a beat of silence and then Edward looks away. I look away too, trying to pull myself together after my slip-up.
"I noticed you have the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy books on your shelves," he changes the subject a moment later. I look up and he's smiling at me.
"Er, yeah, Douglas Addams is great. Have you read them too?" He's never mentioned reading them before.
"I have," he answers and a conversation about two-headed aliens and inter-galactic hitchhiking ensues. But too soon the car comes to a stop outside my building.
Edward turns to me, and though he's smiling I can see the sadness that echoes in his eyes. I wonder what's brought it on and I want desperately to reach out and touch him, touch my fingers to his cheek, his lips, I want to tell him not to be sad, everything will be alright...but I have to let him lead this.
My ponytail is hanging over my shoulder and he reaches out to touch the red ribbon, like he did last night. He smiles.
"I've kept you out very late, it's past midnight."
The dim lights from the dashboard illuminate his features, the shadows hollowing out his cheekbones and under his eyes. In this light his beauty really is supernatural, he does look like a vampire, until he gives me that crooked smile. And then he's just Edward again...my Edward.
"I had a great time tonight," I whisper.
"So did I."
I hand him back the book of illusions and he returns it to his satchel. I suppose this is goodnight and the already familiar feeling of when will I see him again starts to churn in my gut. I hate that feeling, so I decide to do something about it.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" I ask and my question clearly surprises him.
"Tomorrow?" He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"
My mind races as I sort through options and I remember the flyers I arranged on the counter at work.
"There's a jazz festival on the waterfront in Olympia this weekend."
"You like jazz?"
"Sure." You introduced me to it, we sat in your room, with your head in my lap, listening to Duke Ellington and Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis. You taught me about blue notes and improvisation. I know the difference between swing and ragtime, cool jazz and jazz fusion...
I can see him considering, he frowns as he looks down at his hands.
"That sounds good," he says eventually, lifting his eyes. "If you're sure?" And I breathe a sigh of relief - I hadn't even realised I was holding my breath.
"I'm sure."
"If I pick you up at ten?"
"Ten is fine."
I gather my bag. Edward opens his door so he can come and open mine. I scramble onto the footpath. We stand side by side and I wonder what happens now. Edward's eyes are so deep and serious as they stare at me - the pull is so strong and I'm sure he feels it, too, especially after the way he held me on the ice.
Instinctively, my lips part, so do his. I wait, very still. I think I feel him closing the space between us, but suddenly he takes a sharp breath in, pulls back and rakes his hand through his hair.
"It's late," he says. "I'd better go."
-0-
Of course sleep won't come. I lay in my bed, staring out the window, my mind and my heart full of tonight. Full of ice-skating and holding hands, arms around waists...spins and twirls and falling...intense eyes and heated touches. Hot chocolate. Illusions.
Fast cars.
I shudder at the slip I made.
How long before I make another slip? How long before I mention Charlie by name? Or make some unintentional reference about Forks? Even if he tells me the truth of who he is, I'll still have to pretend I haven't known him before. Even if he kisses me I'll have to act like I've never kissed him before.
I groan and pull at my quilt, bringing it closer around my ears as I snuggle down deep into the bed. It's like these thoughts are the monsters in my closet and pulling the covers up will keep me safe...but it doesn't work.
The monster thoughts come regardless.
How long can I go on lying to him before he becomes suspicious?
But I'm not lying, am I? I'm withholding information, that's not the same thing.
But I know in my heart it is.
And I know what Edward would think.
Tears start burning at the backs of my eyes and I blink them away.
Where do we go from here? With every step forward we take, it's a step further from the truth. I'm walking deeper into the lie with every touch and every smile. Or is it walking towards a new truth? I don't know.
And what if he discovers the lie? Will he hate me?
Or if he regains his memories?
What then?
I shudder again and pull the covers tighter. And I realise that while I used to wish that he would remember, now the thought scares me...and not just because he'd know that I've been lying.
It scares me because I like this Edward, I like how we are together, I like who I am when I'm with him.
Would that change if he remembered?
Would he change?
Would I?
I wonder what Edward is thinking, what he makes of it all. Am I still the new girl who's caught his attention, or are there flickers of memory? I wonder what he said to his family and what he is doing now. Is he outside watching my building? Is he running somewhere? At home in his room? Is he thinking of me now?
Would he be able to forgive me if he knew the truth?
It's all too hard. I give up and kick the covers off.
Sleep finally comes as the sky begins to lighten.
-0-
Olympia is lots of fun and today my dark thoughts are locked away, tight. I won't let them spoil this time with Edward...I won't.
The jazz is great and though the sky is overcast the waterfront is beautiful, and Edward is playful as he teases me about the dark circles under my eyes and how many times I've yawned.
"I really did keep you up too late, didn't I?" he smirks. "Maybe you should nap in the car on the way home."
I poke out my tongue and he laughs, flips the hood of my jacket over my face, then asks if I'd like a hot dog. He's been like this all day. He was wearing a beaming smile when I opened the door this morning and it's hardly left his face since. And though he hasn't held my hand we walk close, our arms brushing every now and then. When he speaks to me, or I to him, he lowers his head to bring his face closer to mine. When we move through crowds I feel his hand, resting lightly on the middle of my back, guiding me.
I'm sorry when the last band finishes and it's time to head home.
"We should do this again," I say without thinking as we climb into Edward's car. Immediately, Edward tenses, and though the smile is still on his face his jaw is tight.
"You'd like us to spend more time together?" he asks, voice low. He's not looking at me as he reverses out of the parking lot. I'm not sure how to answer, but I go with honesty.
"I would. Do you think...would you like that?"
My heart slows almost to a stop as I wait for him to answer.
"I would," he says slowly. He changes into top gear as we speed out of town. "But there are some things I should tell you first."
My heart stutters now, and starts pounding. I rub my hand over my chest, somehow thinking that might slow it down, or stop the noise.
"What things?" I whisper. Is he going to tell me now? Is this it? I'm excited that we've progressed so far, that he wants me to know who he is, but I don't know what to say, or how to react. I'm a terrible actress, he's told me that before. I swallow down the panic that grips me.
He gives a wry smile as the car picks up speed. It's going almost as fast as my heart.
"Remember our conversation about dangerous friends?"
Oh no...no... "Yes."
He looks over at me, his eyes are guarded now. "I'm not exactly a reckless choice, Bella, but I am an informed decision."
"Oh."
He looks back at the road, changes gear, and I feel some relief...an informed decision, we can work with that, I know we can. I wait to see if he's going to elaborate, but he doesn't.
"Are you going to inform me now?" I ask.
He shakes his head and smiles at me. "Today isn't the right time," he says, quite cryptically I think, and I wonder if it's because he doesn't want anything to spoil today, either. "But we do need to talk," he adds quietly. "Soon." Then he changes the subject and asks me to choose some music.
I select The Chimes and he grins. We talk about a capella music and his suggestion that he could be dangerous fades away but his need for us to talk soon lingers. At least I know it's coming...I can prepare. And, of course, I know I won't go running and screaming. I wish there was a way I could let him know that.
As we wind along the road I see a sign pointing to the Heritage Nature Reserve and Walking Trails.
"Alex has been there," I point at the sign. "He said the woods are really beautiful." Immediately Edward changes direction, taking the car down the rough road that leads into the reserve.
"Lets take a look," he smiles.
Yeah, he definitely wants today to last, too.
-0-
We are the only car in the gravelly parking lot. The surrounding woods are plentiful and green and three trails are sign posted. Two are long, all-day round trips, but one is very short, only an hour there and back to visit a look-out over a valley.
"Do you want to take a short walk?" Edward asks and I nod.
"I'd like that."
I'm reminded of our first walk to the meadow and even though the sky is grey and this walk is much shorter, I soon begin to feel warm.
"Looks like a clearing through there," Edward points through some trees away from the trail.
I can't see anything but then I don't have vampire eyes. "Would you like to take a look?" His face is almost eager, I know this is the sort of thing he likes.
There isn't a proper trail, but Edward goes ahead of me, holding branches out of the way, making my passage easier.
It's darker through here, shadier, but I can feel the thin film of sweat forming on the back of my neck. I take off my jacket and tie it around my waist.
I follow Edward through the trees, squinting my eyes, trying to see any sign of this clearing he's mentioned, but it's just trees and more trees, until...
"Here!" he says triumphantly. We come out of the trees into a space maybe the size of two basketball courts. It's much smaller than the meadow and there are no wild flowers, but its grass is green and lush and it has a wild sort of beauty all its own.
"How could you know this was here?" I ask. I know how, of course, but I'm still amazed, just the same.
Edward simply shrugs.
"Your face is pink," he smiles.
My hands fly to my cheeks and I roll my eyes. "I can imagine."
He chuckles as I fan my face and blow some stray hair out of my eyes. I push the sleeves of my sweater up to my elbows as I look around, hands on my hips.
"This is really lovely, Edward."
I'm smiling, and though I find it curious that we seem to have ended up in a meadow again, I realise it makes sense if this is the sort of thing he likes, the sort of thing he looks for. I turn in a slow circle, looking at the trees, drinking in the peace, appreciating now, and not thinking about conversations that still need to happen.
But as I turn back to Edward the peace is quickly shattered.
He's staring at me like he's never seen me before; his teeth are clenched and bared, his body is rigid, the cords of his neck stand out and his eyes are wide and black. I feel a sharp stab of fear but before I can even ask what's wrong he snatches up my arm and stares at the crescent-shaped scar high up on my wrist.
"How did you get this?" he hisses.
A/N: Mmmmm... *ducks head under the covers and peeks out warily* Yes, I did leave it there. I will get the next chapter up as soon as I'm able, promise.
Your reviews and feedback amaze me, thank you all so much. And thank you to Edward's Eternal for being such a speedy beta (and for cheeky emails).
*pulls covers back over head and runs*