Wtvoc does Edward. Heh heh.
I dedicate this to my jandco and her predilection for bloody marys.
Edward
Seriously. What the fuck is my problem?
Even I was aware that I was running hot and cold with that chick.
I almost wanted to run my hands through my hair, but I've tried hard over the last few years to stymie those childish impulses to show my frustration. Yeah. Cool as a cuke. That's me.
Fuck that shit.
"We need to talk."
About what?
Why did I feel this desperate need to explain myself?
And why did I hesitate when it was go time?
It's not like I couldn't rise to the occasion.
I mean… I've wanted to hit that for two weeks now. Basically since the day she strolled into that party, not giving two shits about anyone or anything in Forks.
And now, two weeks later… she gives more than two shits. She wants me.
I don't blame her. Everyone does. But this one's… different. Why? Why does she have to be different? Why can't I just win the fucking bet like I always do?
It has been my intention all along to just fuck her and move on, but after that whole Target Wonderland trip, I'm not entirely sure I can just walk away. I might actually wanna do it again. Over and over. Hmm… over, under, sideways. Possibly upside down.
That dinner was… well, to be honest? As expected. I'm amazed it wasn't worse. Tanya definitely had something up her sleeve, and I just had to get Bella away before it happened. Sometimes their foreplay just pisses me off. And dragging Bella into it, on her birthday? Fucked up.
I suppose I'm to blame for manipulating her into going. But really, I only did it to get back at her for making me go to Target.
Really.
So when she crawled into my lap and started hypnotizing me with her lips and hips, I was actually surprised. I figured she'd be stunned or pissed off or disgusted or at the very least indignant, but no.
I sat there and let her grind into me, biting my mouth. And for once, I let go. I just fucking went with it. I wasn't sighing inwardly, or taking glances at the clock on the dash to figure out how long I would have to keep kissing her face until I could go further; I just… let go. For once in my damned life. Let go.
And kissed back. Really kissed back. I found my hands wandering, smoothing over skin and ribs and waist and there was no real thought process. I remember marveling over my lack of plan; just… touching. Tasting. Everything. Every sense was involved. I was aware of her fucking smell, letting it fill my mouth and nose every time I took a quiet, much-needed breath; I could hear her whimpers, her sighs. The sound of her knees squirming against the leather of my seat, her leg muscles quivering every time I inched my hands elsewhere. I knew girls were soft, but she has got to have the silkiest, best skin I've ever felt. Warm and comfortable and I just wanted to touch every bit of her with my fingertips, with my palms. I wanted to rub my face against the skin of her belly to see if it felt as fucking amazing as I assumed.
And just when I realized that there was no way we were going to do this in my damned car, that I wanted to turn the fuck around and go up to my room… crash.
I know there's no way she knows about the bet. She hates Rosalie. She would never give her the satisfaction of getting to fuck me. So when she said "Screw Alice, screw Rosalie", it was like it all funneled into my consciousness. The Bet. Mon raison d'etre. Merde.
I needed to think. I pushed her away. And then I allowed the Asshole to take over while I attempted to collect my thoughts and cool that mean hard-on.
I cringed when I saw her panicked look of absolute seething anger; I don't even know what I said. I think it was something about Target clothes? Honestly, I simply attacked the one thing about her that I found the most adorable. Sure, she was all bad ass with her Docs and predilection for Waits and her insistence on flirting with my friends, but she still, to use an Emmett phrase, "kept it real". There is nothing pretentious about her, and I really dig that. She just… is. So she shops at Target. Surrounded by the priciest, biggest examples of conspicuous spending there are, and she still exudes more class and intelligence than most of the bitches here.
So when I realized that the crazy girl was ready to jump out of a moving vehicle because I was being a douche, I hit the gas and got to the McCarty Place as soon as effing possible.
Where she ran out and into the arms of Emmett, of course. Her Big Poppa. I love that guy like a brother, but I'm about ready to punch both him and fucking Jasper in their throats.
I watched as he eyeballed her, all fucked up. I saw his purple pills earlier, so I knew he was flyin' high. And if drunk Emmett is a hornball… glazed, fucked-up Emmett is one "no" short of date rape. And he just kept feeding her that OE while pathetic, confused Edward sat in his car, all by his lonesome.
I actually ended up smacking my forehead silently on the steering wheel, cursing Mommy and the Bullshit Bullseye and my stupid fucking brain failing on me when I was getting ready to fuck. Stupid stupid stupid. Smack smack smack.
Maybe the steering wheel would have been effective at knocking some sense back into me if Bella hadn't rubbed her hair all over it. I could smell faint traces of her shampoo. The reaction was so visceral and instantaneous that again, without thinking, I was out of the car and up on the porch, just freaking needing to talk to her.
Why?
Good Lord. Why? I'm starting to lose concentration around her, and I don't like it. Kind of like when I used to do blow. That shit gets me stupid.
And stupid I am. I need to regain control of the Bella Bet Situation. And from now on, I'm definitely not letting her corner me in my own car again. Well, at least without being prepared for it. She caught me completely off-guard. And the bet. The bet has me all frazzled. And there's the whole other element- that of the unknown. I simply don't know what to expect with her.
And there it is.
New, fresh pussy. She's coveted by the entire school. No wonder I'm having such a gut-wrenching reaction to the girl. And I'm sure that whole forbidden fruit thing, too. Chief's daughter. And now Carlisle had to go fuel the fire by warning me from knocking the girl up. Dammit. Extra fodder for my libido- parental disapproval. Like I needed the extra push. I maxed out on horndog the minute I saw Bella perusing the aisles at my record store.
It was good to figure things out. Taking a deep breath and ignoring my need to clock my buddy, I attempted to look contrite while inwardly I was grinning. Edward is back in control of his emotions.
He will not let the new girl win.
"We need to talk."
She looked at me, eyes narrowed. I still hadn't let go of her waist, and I unconsciously started strumming at her sides with my thumbs, willing her to come with me. I even tossed in a pleading look in my eyes. No girl would get the best of me, ever again. I had come close in the car there- she was so soft and fucking delicious and insistent and thrusting and my mind went on temporary leave.
No more. I am Edward Anthony Cullen. My mother was a Masen. My father has touched half of the tits in Forks. I am a spoiled, sullen, selfish, son-of-a-bitch. And I do not get sentimental about the new girl.
No.
"Bella, come on," I whispered, looking down at the ground. Not down her top like I wanted; down at the patio. People were stumbling out the front door, falling all over each other and puking in bushes. Shit, it's not even eight and already the revelers are out of control. I needed in on that shit. I had a mean hard-on. I needed to alleviate the pressure, dammit.
"Fine. But quit fucking touching me," she snapped, twisting out of my grasp and stomping off into the house.
Hell. This is going to be tougher than I thought. Something tells me she won't be satiated by a kick-ass record this time.
I followed her and was having a hard time keeping up despite her weaving; she, for one, kept getting stopped by well-wishers that she didn't give a fuck about; and I kept getting stopped because- well, people stop me.
I finally broke free of about five girls, all holding low balls with what I guessed was my scotch when I noticed that she was stomping her way up the stairs. Good. Peace and quiet. Everyone knew not to go upstairs at Emmett's house. Well, everyone except us, of course.
I was about to step onto the first stair when suddenly, Rosalie popped out of nowhere, cracking her gum and adjusting her tits.
"Edward. We need to talk."
We need to talk. We need to talk. But I didn't wanna talk to Rose. I needed to give Bella some sort of excuse for my behavior.
Whenever I figured out what that excuse was, that is.
Sighing, I followed Rosalie into one of the guest rooms downstairs. Alice was in there already, busily wrapping what looked like assorted scarves and purses and other gregarious wastes of money. I grinned momentarily, relishing in the mental image of Bella's look of horror at the riches she'd be forced to accept as gifts. She was better than this crap; she wanted stuff with substance. No one around her knew her. Well, maybe Jasper.
"What, Rose? I've got shit to attend to."
"Yes, Cullen. Yes, you do. You have a bet that you're losing miserably. You'd better get on that before I get bored with the whole thing and call it off."
"You're already bored and boring. I'm on it. I'm working an angle."
"Which is what, exactly? She looked pretty pissed just now. Then again, angry sex is always a good way to go about business. Hurry, would you?" She sauntered over to Alice, shaking her ass at me. That usually did it for me, but I just wasn't in the mood today. I did, however, notice the way she put her arm around Alice to put a piece of tape on the shiny pink wrapping paper; Alice looked up at Rose, her smile dimpling around her cute little teeth. These two. They're doing it on purpose, and I wasn't sure that I was into the fake thing.
"It's almost like you're not interested anymore, Edward. And that just hurts." Alice was looking up at me through lowered lashes, batting them like you read about. Good thing Jasper's not around 'cuz he'd probably kill his own mother if Alice would only look at him like that.
"No, no. I'm interested. Believe you me, lady. I'm working on it. I just… decided to set myself a challenge. I mean, you should've seen the Swan girl all over my dick just now. Really. She definitely wants me."
"Good," Rose purred, stepping over Alice and coming up to me. I could smell her Chanel No. 5 wafting into my nostrils, and normally that stuff calmed me down. The fragrance of money and sophistication. But I still had the faint smell of cheap strawberry shampoo hanging around me, and the mixing of the two was making me feel nauseated.
"I really, really want you to see this bet through," Rose whispered right into my ear. She was tall; much taller than Bella, who barely made it to my chin. Rose was breathing lightly on my neck, and she reached out to straighten my tie.
"Leave it," I growled. I already couldn't breathe as it was.
"Tsk. Touchy. You need to get laid, Cullen. And I know just the white trash to do it. Now, go. Seduce her or play your own game or whatever it is you think you're doing. You have a handle on the situation, I trust?" She sashayed back over to the four-poster and sprawled out, revealing a helluva lot of thigh and a flash of red under her skirt. I tilted my head to the side so she knew I was looking, then I silently turned around and made my way up the stairs.
I had to try a few doors, but I eventually found Bella, in Mrs. McCarty's giant hot tub. Her eyes were red and her lips were puffy and pouty and fuck, I wanted to turn the jets on and climb in there with her. But I didn't. I sat on the edge of the tub, my legs dangling over the side as I leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.
"Hey, birthday girl," I ventured, knowing that it would take my supreme bullshit skills to dig myself out of this hole.
"Fuck you, Junior," she spat, slapping my hand away. Junior? I almost laughed. Mommy would've loved that one.
"Look, I don't know what got into me today. You just… aw, fuck." Now I was confused. What the hell did get into me today? I mean, I went into Target, for eff's sake. And I didn't hate it.
"You frustrate me, Bella." There, that sounded good.
"I- what?"
"Well, you've made it abundantly clear that you know I can get any girl I want."
"Uh huh." She crossed her arms and shifted, the squeak of the porcelain against her ass practically screaming into the softly lit bathroom. She arched an eyebrow at me, and she looked so damned ridiculous trying to be haughty when she was obviously hanging on the next words that were to come out of my mouth.
I grinned. "Self-preservation. I am shit. I shouldn't have said that about you. I mean, about your clothes. That was pretty dick."
"Yeah. It really was." She sighed, putting her head down on her knees. Aww. She actually bought it. I mean, I meant it. But still.
"So, do you want to fuck me or not?" Her voice was muffled against her knees, but I'm pretty sure that she was embarrassed. With a question like that, and her attitude in the public eye, I'm amazed she had shame. And that it took her that long to ask.
I laughed. "Have you seen you? Of course I wanna fuck you. But not like that. Not because you were feeling sorry for me." Take that.
"Feeling… sorry… Cullen, that Mommy thing has got you fucked in the head. I'm serious. I'd recommend you guys go to family therapy, but I'm not entirely sure you wouldn't end up getting head from the therapist while your parentals looked on."
"And videotaped the entire session for later perusal."
"They'd certainly want to incorporate bonding exercises into it."
"And make me keep a journal of my dreams."
She was looking up now, swiping at invisible tears under her eyes. Now I felt bad. And I still desperately wanted to kiss her. That make-out in the car earlier was definitely making it into my shower jerking-off fantasy rotation. That was just… it was just. And all we did was make out.
Which, I believe, was my first big error. Kissing for that long. What is this, junior high? Error. That, and spending so much time with her. If I had to name what was really going on here, I suppose I would have to say that I liked her as a person, which is a problem. Most girls just aren't so… interesting.
For instance, right now. This gloriously frustrating girl is sitting inside a stranger's empty hot tub, morose and practically weeping because I gave her mixed signals. I give everyone mixed signals. Mostly because I don't really feel like editing my actions. The annoying thing was- she was sad, and that made me sad. And I didn't know how to make her feel better.
So there we sat, her ducked down in an empty tub, not crying, but not ready to blow me, either. And I was leaning back lazily, my feet resting on one of the seats, trying to come up with something funny or sarcastic or maybe just rude so that she'd at least fucking react. I liked her all fiery. More fun that way.
And like I said. I just didn't want her to be sad anymore. I mean, it's her fucking birthday.
I was staring at her, but not really seeing her. Just trying to clear my head.
I needed a drink.
I could hear the faint roar of the party going on beneath us and I became aware that I was humming. Stupid Waits. I heard the song playing out in my head, plain as day. So I started to sing it under my breath, mumbling through the "well, the music plays and you display your heart for me to see" part when I became aware of Bella's stare. She had raised her head and was looking at me with a skeptical eyebrow, sniffling a little bit and sitting up straighter.
I looked down, embarrassed. Truth be told, I'm a kick-ass musician, but my singing kind of sucks. My voice gets gravelly when I sing in a lower register; it's annoying. But I kept going. I sort of mumbled through the "I hope that I don't fall in love with you" bit because that just sounded sappy, and she'd probably see it for the line that it was. I almost didn't want to look at her because I just didn't want this night to be the first time I saw rejection in the eyes of a girl I was after. She never stopped me, though, and she didn't move, and I just didn't know what to do so I kept on stumbling through the song, not moving a muscle.
I got to the end bit- where the guy searched the place for her lost face and guessed he'd have another round-
-when I felt her yank me by the collar on both sides. I was so taken by surprise that I just let it happen, and I kind of hurt my ass as I landed on the hard seat but I didn't care because she was just there and hot breath in my mouth and I sucked it right in and I could taste her and she tasted like salty tears and OE and swollen tongue and fuck. In my lap, thighs squeezing thighs and my fucking dick up and mmph. That strawberry smell, everywhere. I realized my hand was on her neck and she was straightening her back, brushing her tits across my chin as she stretched up, her hair enveloping my head. I could barely see her eyes in the faint light coming from the vanity across the room, but they were wet and large and sucking me in.
"Hi," she breathed, and my face was just full of her, and before I could so much as say "hi" right back, she was kissing me again. Her tongue was on mine, but not sloppy or insistent or needy but soft, relaxed. Pulsing. Meeting mine stroke for stroke. I could've pushed it. I could have. But- didn't.
I didn't wanna.
This was perfect.
My hands eventually started wandering again, because dammit. How could I not explore that skin, taunting me with its creamy soft glow? She was sighing again, urging me on. I wanted that shit to last. I did. I kept going. I wanted to see how long I could go before I broke. Utterly amazing.
I do not know how long we sat there, barely balanced on a rock-hard porcelain bath tub bench as we writhed and groped. She had her fingertips running lightly under my shirt, going along my collarbone, around the back of my neck. Gracing my shoulders. I could actually feel the tingling somewhere in my dick area, and it felt… well, fucking king. I have no clue where this restraint was coming from. Maybe the idea of accidentally cracking her skull when I inevitably tossed her back to have my way with her because I knew once I had her on her back I would just not be able to fucking stop myself and the thought of burying my face between her tits was starting to drive me crazy-
"There you are," I heard a tinkling giggle from somewhere behind me. And every cell in my body groaned. Fucking Cockblock Alice.
Wasn't she in favor of this? The fuck is with the women in my life?
"Come on, Bella," Alice said, walking into the room. It was a wide-open bathroom, and we were right in the middle of it. Bella climbed off of my lap and straightened her clothes. She hesitated for a half second before climbing out, never once meeting my eyes. Right. We still needed to talk.
The hell am I doing?
I had to take some deep breaths before moving. Not only to calm down and steady my heart beat, but so that I could replace the complacent and half smiling Edward face with the Asshole Expression.
With the game face back on, I stepped out of the tub and strode out of the room, ready to grab Bella and take her away from this stupid party.
But Alice was practically dragging her downstairs, where the entire cool population of Forks Academy was gathered, heartily singing a sloppy, drunken rendition of "Happy Birthday" while toasting Bella, each other, themselves, the room in general, and other assorted things to celebrate. It was like there wasn't a party practically every freaking day around here or something the way they were drinking. Trying to impress the new It Girl, I guess.
Who was not impressed. Emmett was smugly wheeling out a three-layered, pink cake. Going by Jasper's grin, I'm sure it was one of those bullshit sugar-free fun-free things Alice was into. Better than bulimia, I suppose. There were a thousand candles on the thing, and I wouldn't've been surprised if Adrian Young popped out of it; this party was Alice's dream. Not Bella's.
Not that dining with June and Ward and having her chest insulted was a fantasy come to life. Bella needs a good birthday party, dammit.
With the "and many more"s, Emmett and the cake made it to the foot of the stairs by clearing a path with the inferno it was. Bella put on a fake smile and sucked in a huge breath; I watched as about fifteen guys elbowed forward, helping her put out the candles. I lazily leaned on the banister upstairs, watching the fools try and get in. I'm sure everyone knew the two of us were up there alone, but since I wasn't staking claim on her or anything, they must've assumed I was done and she was now a free agent.
What a bunch of assholes.
I gotta get outta here.
Rosalie was leaning on one of the columns flanking the front door; she was smirking, her arms folded as she silently asked me if I was done. I just scowled at her, ambling down the stairs as I watched the dregs scramble for Bella's attention. She was surrounded; couldn't even move. Jasper was handing Alice a big knife, and Alice was busy barking out instructions to everyone while holding onto Bella's elbow. What a mess.
I didn't say a word to Rose as I left. I simply hopped in my car and drove home.
Carlisle was right. I didn't want to look like shit tomorrow. Because tomorrow I would talk to her.
I had been asleep for a few hours when I heard a scraping noise. My window was partly open, so I recognized the sound. And a closed-eyed, lazy grin spread across my face because I knew without looking that she was back.
"How the hell did you keep getting past the gate, anyway?" I could hear the sleepy in my voice and attempted to clear it. Every cell in my body was waking up.
"They have the codes down at the station for all of the big houses, you know."
"And your Dad just hands this information out, does he?"
"No. But Deputy Mark is remarkably susceptible to lip-biting and a little cleavage flashing. Scoot over."
"My kind of guy." She had slipped out of her sweater and wasn't wearing those ridiculous heels. I flipped the corner of the blanket over, moving to make room. I normally slept in the middle, but I was going to make sure I didn't steal the covers this time. She wasn't wearing enough to stay warm.
With a sigh, she flopped down on the pillow next to me. We still weren't touching; I desperately wanted to, but dammit. Since we needed to actually talk this time, I didn't want to go down that road until I was clear on things, and if I felt her skin under me, there's no way I'd stop that shit this time. And there were no cockblocks in sight. Down, boy. Talk first.
But I didn't know what to say.
And I was fucking tired.
"G'night, birthday girl," I whispered. And laid there, listening to her breathing slow down. Only until I could tell that she was asleep did I move. I turned my head and watched her; lips slightly open, she had her face turned toward me, her arms over the covers with hands clasped across her chest. Despite the shitty evening, she looked all peaceful lying there.
I decided to let her be. I'd sort everything out in the morning.
Then we'd see about that bet.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I was startled out of sleep again, only this time I wasn't sure why. I looked to my side and was pleased to discover that I did not hog the covers this time. Bella was still there, looking as peaceful and warm as she had several hours ago. Suppressing a moan, I glanced at the clock. Seven a.m. I never awaken this early on a Saturday. Being careful not to wake her, I got up to shower. The game was at the Hale House this month; Mrs. Hale was pissed if you weren't there by nine. I had a few hours, and I'm sure Bella would want to go home and change before the game.
What would I say to her when she woke up? I doubt she'd want to face breakfast with my parents. If they ever left their room, of course.
I creeped downstairs, not hearing any movement. Good. Maybe I'd go get some donuts or something. A normal, teenage breakfast.
I climbed into the Cadillac and took off, lost in thought. Last night had my head all twisted and fucked. And I wasn't sure why. I had a bet to win. I had the girl panting for me. I had two girls waiting for me.
I knew what I had to do, and I hesitated.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was on the highway, heading away from Forks. Running from my issues?
I just drove, listening to stupid soft rock that I wasn't aware existed as a radio station.
And then there it was, shining. Like a beacon. That damned Bullseye. My eyes narrowed, like it was taunting me. Challenging me with its low prices. Fucking Target.
I exited, turning into the parking lot. And there were fucking cars there. Who fucking goes to Target at eight a.m. on a Saturday?
Losers who can't seal a deal, apparently.
I found myself parking. Heard the doors swish in as I entered. I grabbed a cart. Started wandering. Kid's clothing. M&Ms. Free giftcard with soda purchase. Britney Spears makes a fragrance? What the fuck is Choxie? And what the hell am I doing here?
I stopped mid-walkway, leaning forward and putting my head in my hands. She's at home in my bed, possibly being awakened by my stepmommy, and I wasn't there to save her. Was I doing that subconsciously to get rid of her?
I became aware of vicious muttering. Making a right into the magazine aisle, I noticed a Target employee wearing black skintight pants, a red t-shirt, and those stupid emo fingerless gloves that go to the elbow, only they were black-and-white-striped. Very Nightmare Before Christmas. Her hair was short and spiky, dyed fake black with chunks of red. She had a constant litany of cursing going, and as she turned to the side, she sneered, the piercing in her nose dancing as she muttered.
"Fucking idiots. Can't effectively take down TPCs. And then I have to honor the price change. And who the fuck forgot to…" She just wasn't stopping. I wanted to laugh, but I was pretty sure she'd try to kick my ass if I did.
"Fucking Target. Target is the devil. It carries disease. These damned people, never covering their damned mouths. Buying things they don't need. Why Target carries all of this crap is beyond me. I'm going to kill someone if they ask me where Wal-Mart is one more time, I swear. Get the hell out of my store. I hate this place. Target embodies all that's-"
"Target does not suck." I must have a death wish.
She turned around slowly, a look of pure disbelief on her face. Her eyes squinted as she took in my prep appearance; Croquet Saturday had strict rules of dress, so I was wearing a navy blue cashmere sweater with an untucked white shirt under it, and khakis, of course. Not cheap Target ones. I'm sure I looked like I stepped out of the A&F catalog, only not gay.
"Can I help you find something?" she sneered at me, her fine-pencilled eyebrows challenging me.
"Yeah. Amelia, is it? Target does not suck. You sell Pop-Tarts and camping gear. It's insanely convenient."
"Thanks, Rich Boy. I'm sure it's fun for you to slum it up in here and all, but don't you have some Cotillion to attend?"
I had to laugh. I hadn't been to a Cotillion in two years, since all our girls debbed. The women of Forks had to get used to my "nos"; I no longer acted as escort. That shit gets old.
"Are you sure they let your kind out in the daylight?"
"I have to lure you Forks Bitches in somehow."
"You're right. We don't allow Emo into Forks."
She chuckled. "You're alright, kid."
"Edward Cullen."
"Of THE Cullens?"
"Yep."
"Ooh. I feel honored by your presence."
"You should."
"I bet you think I want to fuck you."
"No bets, please."
"Not the gambling kind?"
"Au contraire."
"Don't use your fancy schooling skills on me. Did you need something?"
Guidance? Advice? A way to back out of a bet gracefully?
'Cuz yeah. I wanted out of the bet.
I can admit it now.
Thank you, Target.
"Thanks, Amelia."
"What the hell for?"
"Being Emo. You've sucked me in."
"Glad to hear it. Really- are you okay?"
"No. But I will be. And I'll take one of those Maxims."
"You would. Megan Fox is hot."
"Indeed." I took the magazine and flipped it into the cart.
"Seeya around, Emo Girl."
"Later, Richie McPrepperson."
Smart ass.
I felt better.
Time for croquet.
I actually felt lighter as I drove back. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I knew it'd be clear when I got home.
But when I got there, Tanya and Carlisle were getting into the Benz, urging me forward. I told them I'd meet them there, and the Good Doctor tapped his wrist meaningfully. Rolling my eyes at him, I ran into the house, sprinting upstairs. I knew seeing her would lock everything into place.
But of course when I got there, she was gone.
So I drove off to the Hale's alone.
XXXXXXXXXX
I was greeted with a Mimosa by a guy in a blue polo and white pants. As ever.
All around me were the elite of Forks, the old-moneyed, snooty jerks who were hitting croquet balls with abandon. I had never even bothered to learn the game in all the years of attending these monthly rituals. The Forks Rich Folk were as serious about their croquet as most Americans were about their beer. My eyes sought out Bella, but I couldn't find her anywhere.
But boy, did I hear about her. Her name was on the lips of everyone I passed.
Mr. McCarty was being the most vocal.
"Ever since Renee Hotchkiss unceremoniously left Forks in disgrace, the whore contingent has been sorely missed. Good thing her daughter's back. And from what I hear, we're in for a treat, gents," he proclaimed, raising his Mint Julep to his mouth in salute. The men around him, my father included, were grinning appreciatively.
"The only reason I respect Chief Swan is because he tapped that ass," he continued, finishing his drink with a gulp and absent-mindedly reaching for another as a server quietly handed him the next. Carlisle gave his assessment of her body, which seemed to have changed from needing light work to being perfect in every way. Fucking hypocrite.
I made my way over to my crowd, shaking my head at Rosalie's zeal in winning. She was definitely in her element here, going out of her way to knock all opponents out of play rather than taking the win. So predictable.
"Edward. I see that you're alone. Thank you for not inviting the trailer park over," she said lightly, sipping on her Bloody Mary with pinky raised.
"Rosalie. Thank you for reminding me why we've never fucked," I responded smoothly, nodding to the bartender for my scotch. I needed to think. Everyone froze for a second as Rose glared at me, but I couldn't give a fuck just then. Why wasn't Bella here?
"Edward. Play nice." Alice came over and put her arm around my waist, and I leaned against her without thinking about it. She really was a nice person. I have no idea what she saw in Rosalie except that they've been BFFs since second grade when Rose started getting tits and Alice discovered Travis Barker.
"Yeah, Edward. We're nice. You should be, too." Rose was all honey and batting eyelashes and the faux sincerity usually threw me a stiff one, but I just didn't want it right now. Sincerity is where it's at. I'm tired of the lack of fucking authenticity sometimes.
Rosalie was gabbing with some other girls about how she and Bella went to finishing school together and how Bella used her tricks to fuck every guy in sight blah blah blah. I had heard it before. Classic smear campaign. Too bad it wasn't working. The girls all narrowed their eyes whenever Bella was around, mostly because she was either arm-in-arm with Jasper, getting smacked on the ass by Emmett, or snaking one of my earbuds and listening to the Velvet Underground with me. But I also noticed that a lot of them had picked up the sweater vest thing and insisted that their mothers were making them use them so it wasn't a "complete waste of money". My ass. We are complete wastes of money.
I saw Jasper emerge from the bushes with a bottle of Bombay and two freshman. Way to work off your pain, J. He had a toothpick balanced on his lip, and when he saw me, he made a beeline.
"You're late, bitch. You'd better avoid Mrs. Hale; she'll want to punish you for that."
"Reason enough to go look for her," I responded automatically, no enthusiasm, whatsoever. Jasper raised his eyebrows at my tone, using his tongue to flip the toothpick over.
"I swear, Whitlock. Where do you get this shit?" I groused, shoving my hands into my pockets. I did not feel like playing croquet today. Ever, really. But especially not today. I saw Mrs. Hale emerge from the house, looking disheveled and being trailed by one of the servers. Good. Her ire is easier to handle when she's been freshly fucked.
I sweet-talked Rosalie's mom when she noticed me and came over to bitch about my tardiness. They're so easy, these women; a few double entendres and grabbing her drink to take a sip and I was forgiven. All too easy. These rigid "society" rules drove me up a fucking wall, anyway. And I needed to call Bella.
Edging slowly toward the pool house, I slipped away unnoticed (except by maybe Jasper) and reached into my pocket for my iPhone. It took a few calls, but I'm annoyingly persistent when I need to be. She finally picked up on the fifth dial with an "I can't do this right now, Edward."
Funny how hearing her say my name made me smile.
"Do what? Where the fuck are you? You're supposed to be playing croquet."
"Croquet? Please." Her derisive laughter only turned me on more. "Bella doesn't do croquet. Especially when it's at Rosalie Hale's house. I'd rather get head from a syphilitic with cold sores. Besides, I wasn't invited."
"Of course you're invited. You're with me. Anyway, I'm coming to get you. We still need to talk."
She sighed and was silent for a moment. It felt like five minutes, but it was probably more like five seconds. Finally, she spoke.
"Fine. Come get my ass. But I am not going to croquet. I already want to kill Heather Number One. But I'm no Winona Ryder, and you're much hotter than Christian Slater."
"You make no sense."
"Heathers, Cullen. It's a movie us common folk like to watch from time to time."
"Yeah, I got that. Just… please. Please? Can I come and get you? I promise to play nice."
"I thought you played pretty nice at the end there last night."
"Yeah, you don't suck, either."
"Big compliment, coming from you."
"And I meant every word of it."
She paused for a moment. "I believe you."
"Thanks."
"Give me like, twenty minutes to get ready."
"I'm already on my way."
So. you. Yeah, you. Where's your entry for a Very Cullen Christmas? Deadline approaches, BBs….
