Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight!


Chapter Eight – Secrets

Me and Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on

We both know that it's wrong

But it's much too strong to let it go now

We meet ev'ry day at the same I

Six-thirty I know she'll be there

Holding hands, making all kinds of plans

While the jukebox plays our favorite song

-"Me and Mrs. Jones"(song) by Michael Buble

Carlisle Cullen

I wasn't afraid to admit I was nervous about our time alone together. I wanted to take her out to eat, maybe shop (I was making so many sacrifices for her; I hate shopping) , and then just take her home, but God only knows what would be waiting for me, so I prepared for everything. Edward gave me two condoms, a backup one in case the first broke (how the hell would I know if it broke? I mean, they actually BREAK?), and briefed me on "the basics" though I knew it all already.

I'd never had sex before, and like I said, I wanted to wait until I was married, but I knew that if Esme pushed me when we were alone, it would be a moment of weakness, I and I would take her. I didn't know, and frankly wasn't interested in all that wild, crazy stuff people do these days—with toys and all this other "preparation". Again, I only knew the basics, and that was all I wanted to know. Esme would just have to be satisfied with what I had. I was new to this.

I packed an old gym bag I still had from my High school days (that still smelled like sweaty gym socks I might add) with an extra set of clothes for if I ended up spending the night, I wouldn't leave in the same clothes I arrived in. I put the condoms, a comb, and an extra set of keys in the bag along with my clothes, and packed the car that morning.

Esme didn't call until around noon. I was waiting by the phone. I answered on the first ring. "Is he gone?" I asked quickly, excitedly. I was almost jittering with either excitement, or pure fear.

"Yeah, he's gone. "He'll be gone until Sunday evening!" she said again, sounding just as excited as I was.

"I'll be right over," I replied, and gave her a quick good-bye before hanging up and jumping in the car.

I was at her house in a few minutes, breaking a few traffic laws in my impatience to get to her. She was waiting outside her house in a pretty, stunningly bright orange dress. Her caramel hair was down and curled slightly. As she bounced toward the car in heels, her hair bounced in rhythm with her stride. She went over the passenger side and got in.

"Where are we going?" I asked her, almost relieved she didn't want to go in the house right away, but the car was bad enough. Being close to her again after a seemingly long time away from her was almost intoxicating.

"Shopping," she replied and pulled a pair of sunglasses out from a small purse she was carrying that matched the color of her dress. She put them on and looked at me. "To the mall, Reginald," she giggled.

I laughed and pulled away from the house.


The word "shopping" took on a whole new meaning when I did it with Esme. It was surprisingly enjoyable listening to her silly banters about Rosalie and Alice. There was never a dull moment with her, since she constantly chattered and asked me what my opinion was on a dress.

"Should I text Rosalie and Alice to meet us here someplace?" she asked innocently, already opening her phone. I'd never seen her like this. She was so lighthearted and vivacious when Charles was gone.

"If you want," I offered wrapping my free arm around her waist (my other was carrying many of her bags). "We could meet them and go eat somewhere."

Esme smiled and made a noise that sounded like a squeal. "Okay! I'll tell them to meet us by that bookstore!"

The bookstore Esme had meant was beyond my expectations. It was huge! It had everything to a children's section to movies. The bookstore was my kind of store. I could spend all day in one, and I always wanted to work at one when I was old enough. Why didn't you think of it sooner? Now you're a pianist, I sneered at myself. But, if you were never a pianist you never would have met Esme, my more sensible side reminded me.

I was browsing through "Adult Fiction" and shot a glance at Esme who was in the row next to mine in the "Romance" section. I tried not to smile. She picked out a book that had a muscular tan man on it with his arms circled around a gorgeous woman. She turned and began to page through it, her back to me. I put my book back and came up behind her. I locked my arms around her waist from behind making her gasp in surprise. I kissed the space behind her ear and whispered, "You're a hopeless romantic."

Esme giggled. "I always read romance novels. They gave me something to do, and kept my dreams alive," she explained, putting the book back and turned to face me. She was so close now, and she was pressed tightly up against me.

"Dreams?" I queried in a whisper, kissing her jawline, all sense of danger of being seen gone.

"Of finding someone like you," Esme replied running one hand through my hair. She leaned up on her tippy-toes and kissed my lips softly.

One of my hands found its way up and knotted itself in her beautiful long hair. I kissed her back, lovingly, but softly. Esme played with my hair in her hands as she pulled me closer, demanding entrance with her tongue, which I granted her all too happily.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. My blood ran cold hoping it wasn't someone who knew Esme was married to Charles. Esme pulled away quickly and tried to peer over my shoulder. I turned, keeping Esme behind me to protect her to see Alice and Rosalie. Alice was giggling quietly while Rosalie just looked annoyed.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed. "You scared the crap out of us!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes and looked at Esme, then at me. "Leave it to you, Esme to get the hottest guy on Earth. Have you slept with him yet?" she asked.

"Uh, why don't I move away so you ladies can speak freely?" I suggested awkwardly. I hated feeling like a piece of meat a pack of wolves were eyeing.

Esme grabbed my arm. "No, stay," she said and narrowed her eyes at Rosalie. "What's your problem anyway?" she snapped at her friend.

Rosalie glared. "You always go on and on about how horrible, and miserable your life is! You're married, and have a nice house—"

Esme cut her off. "Yes, and I have a husband who abuses me!" she spat acidly. "Do you think I like that?"

"No, but you're always complaining about it! Then this drop-dead gorgeous man comes into the coffee shop, and of course you jump all over him, and wrap him around your little finger!" Rosalie snarled, looking from Esme to me.

Esme stared at Rosalie, tears forming in her beautiful brown eyes. "I don't complain about it! And I never jumped all over Carlisle!" she shot back at Rosalie. "I thought you were my friend!"

"Why don't I just call Charles and tell him?" Rosalie growled.

"You wouldn't!" Esme almost screamed, trembling now.

Alice, who still stood next to Rosalie, seemed just as stunned as I was. "Rose, Rose!" Alice said trying to stop her as Rosalie got her phone out. "Rose, come on you have Emmett, you love him, Carlisle is nothing," she said shooting a quick apologetic glance at me. "Come on, calm down," she persuaded. "Walk away, Rose. Walk away."

Rosalie gave Esme a death glare before turning around and stomping out of the bookstore. When she was gone, Esme burst into tears. I wrapped my arms around her sadly, trying to sooth her. She buried her face in my chest, and Alice joined in the hug.

"I don't understand what I did," she sobbed.

"Rosalie is just jealous that you have Carlisle to love you, and Emmett… Emmett won't propose to her. Rosalie asked him why, and he said it was because he wasn't sure what he wanted…" Alice explained. "So… Rosalie dumped him until he's figured it out."

"What?" Esme gasped. "But they're perfect for each other!" Esme protested pulling out of her grip.

"I know, but you know Rose—stubborn as a mule," Alice said sadly.


Alice, Esme and I went to a fancy Bistro to get lunch. Alice and Esme gossiped about random things, before Alice began to speak to me. I felt like I was being interrogated. "Where are you from?" she asked calmly, sipping her Iced Yea. Alice was a Southern girl, Esme said, so she loved her Iced Tea.

"New York," I replied. "My parents were immigrants from England."

Alice began to look interested. "Where are your parents living now?" she inquired.

I saw Esme winced and give Alice a warning look. The words burned my throat, but I said them anyway. "They're dead. My brother, Edward and I are the only ones left pretty much."

Alice's face softened. "You said you lived in New York," she recalled, changing the subject. "You went to college there, right?"

What did this woman do; Google me? "Yes. I did…" I said eying her, unsure.

"You were training to be a doctor, right?"

What is this, a job interview? thought, somewhat annoyed at all the questions. "I—"

Esme's cellphone rang suddenly. Esme, who had been staring at me, looked down at her phone. The caller ID said "Charles".


A/N: HAHAHA! Evil Cliffie! R&R please! Thanks for reading!