Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.
A/N: A short chapter with a bit of levity and moving along B&E's relationship. Edward doesn't waste any time when he wants something as we know from Chapter 1.
Chapter 9 – First Date (Edwards POV)
Mom greeted Bella and me with a huge smile on her face as I walked in the back door just after 7.30 pm with Bella's hand firmly clasped in mine. She was noticeably excited at just how much Bella and I had bonded at the meadow. I'd held Bella's hand all (most) the way home and thank Christ I did, because she tripped twice over her own feet and would have fallen in a heap, if I hadn't caught her.
Bella only brushed herself off, retied her shoe laces and told me to get used to it because she'd been like that since birth and doubted she'd ever get any better. I'd pinched the bridge of my nose where I felt the pulsing rhythms of a migraine forming when I thought about a future with this girl that likely included taking Bella to, or collecting Bella from, a hospital emergency room where a gaping wound was stitched or a broken bone was cast.
I don't think I've ever known someone so prone to accidents and injury. In the ten days since I'd met her she'd twisted her knee, bruised her elbow, stubbed her big toe, cut her hand and had a meltdown in the ladies toilet although I didn't hold the meltdown against her. That was an emotional injury rather than a physical one, although the low blood sugar unconsciousness that followed might, just might, classify as physical in my copy book.
I nearly had an aneurysm when she told me on the walk home, she planned to do some of the building repair work and painting at her house and she wanted me to drive her to the hardware store in Port Angeles so she could hire the equipment and power tools she needed. I had instantaneous and vivid nightmares of her removing a limb (not necessarily her own) in a gory catastrophe of gargantuan proportions as she operated the chop saw she said she needed.
I told her categorically and loudly, "I. WON'T. ALLOW. IT!"
She stopped on the path, cocked a brow of stunned disbelief and said, "Excuse me!"
I cocked one brow back at her and snarked, "Which part did you not understand?"
"Can you use a chop saw, Edward?" she smirked at me with a look of disdain that said she doubted I even knew what a chop saw was.
Well I've got news for her! Of course I know what a fucking chop saw is. It's a, well it's, um, it's a … FUCK! Alright, I don't fucking know what a fucking chop saw is, but that's beside the point! My girl will NOT be operating life endangering power tools typically used on building sites by behemoths named 'Bubba', and that's final!
I said as much to Bella … but, I edited out the 'fuck'.
BIG Mistake! HUGE! … saying that to Bella; not the 'fuck' part.
Bella pulled her hand from mine and stomped down the pathway for a few yards before she stopped and turned around to face me in a huff.
"WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT, Edward Effing Cullen," (I reared back in surprise – SHE swore at me!), "to tell me what I can and can't do? Huh! Tell me? Because, the last time I checked, you weren't my husband, Edward and a few kisses in the grass don't make you my boyfriend either. So until that situation changes, you don't have any rights to me that I don't give you. GOT THAT!"
"A few kisses!" I hissed. "A few kisses in the grass!" I mimicked her (she glared). "Is that all it was to you, Bella?" I said with a hurt tone to my voice.
She squirmed. GOTCHA!
"Well, no. Of course not! It was special, Edward, you know it was. I was making a point," she said sternly. "You can't just suddenly decide to make decisions for me and expect me to blithely go along with it."
"Why not?" I asked her, genuinely baffled.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND, EDWARD!"
"YES. I. AM!"
"NO. YOU'RE. NOT!"
"IF I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, THEN WHAT WAS ALL THAT KISSING IN THE GRASS?"
"KISSING!" she shrieked at me with clenched fists by her side.
I made a split-second decision; a real anomaly for me, the guy who planned out everything to the nth degree and the finest detail.
"Bella Swan?"
"What!"
"Will you be my girlfriend?" I found myself saying.
I'd never had a real girlfriend; Lauren didn't count and I'd never kissed her like I kissed Bella. I never felt about Lauren the way I feel about Bella. I was sick of fighting my feelings for Bella. For ten days I acted like I didn't care two hoots about her but she got under my skin despite all my efforts to repel her.
I liked her. A lot! I loved kissing her and touching her and holding her in my arms. I might even be falling in love with her and I wanted the right to stop her from doing something fucking stupid when it came to her safety and my peace of mind! If being her boyfriend gave me certain rights, well then, I would be a boyfriend! I could do it!
"Why?" she asked me suspiciously.
I told her.
Even BIGGER mistake than the last one … because I skipped the 'falling in love with her' part!
She stared at me with narrowed eyes then took two steps toward me and pulled her arm back. I never saw it coming until her small fist connected with my face.
"OW! OW! You broke my hand!" she cried, holding it against her midriff and jumping around.
"Well you broke my fricking nose! Why'd you do that for?" I yelled, cradling my nose which was dripping blood onto my T-shirt.
"WHY? You want to know WHY? Are you an idiot, Edward, or just totally devoid of any commonsense? What type of proposal was that?" she spat at me.
"What was wrong with it? I asked you to be my girlfriend. I thought you'd be pleased?" I told her.
I really didn't understand girls. Lauren wasn't this hard. Oh, right; she wasn't really a girlfriend. She was just a fuck-buddy.
"You don't tell the girl you're asking to be your girlfriend that you're asking her so you can tell her what to do, Edward!"
"Bella," I whined, changing tactics. I needed to do some fast damage control not to fuck this up even more than I already had. "I only want to look after you. Isn't that what boyfriends do?" I asked her sulkily.
"Yes, Edward," she replied in a tone used by frustrated mothers reasoning with a four year old, "but I don't recall the teenage relationship handbook saying anything about forsaking all rights and independence to one's boyfriend."
"Does that mean you're saying yes?" I asked, brightening.
She sighed. "Tell me again why you want to be my boyfriend and this time try using a bit of sincerity in the asking, that doesn't include ordering me about, and I might consider it."
I gulped. Did I really have to do this? She was waiting; her posture and expression screamed it. I wasn't getting an affirmative answer until I asked her properly. Shit!
"Bella Swan," I said nasally because my nose was pissing blood, "will you do me the divine honor of becoming my girlfriend? I will promise to look after you and keep you from harm and I will do my very best to be a wonderful boyfriend … and, I will try very hard not to order you about … too much," I mumbled.
Bella came toward me again. I got frightened she was going to punch me again and I actually backed up a step.
"Edward," she said softly, "let me see your nose."
"No," I whimpered.
"Edward?"
"Not until you answer me. I gave you a proper proposal and now I want a proper answer."
She picked up the front of her shirt and brought it up to my face. I reared back from the shirt; it was probably covered in germs, but Bella caught me behind the neck with the wrist of her broken hand pulling my head down, and started blotting at the congealing blood on my top lip and chin.
"Move your hand, Edward," she commanded, "and yes, I will be your girlfriend."
I whooped. I actually fucking whooped.
She grinned and shook her head. "Now let me see."
"Ow!" I whimpered as she daubed at my nostrils.
"Hmm! I've actually got a pretty decent right hook," she said proudly, obviously pleased with herself. She handed me a bottle of water from the cooler bag she'd been carrying, so I could rinse my mouth and face of blood.
I scowled at her, as I was presently the guy who'd just been on the other end of that right hook. "It's not so good, Bella," I said bursting her balloon, "not if you managed to break your hand doing it!"
"Um, yeah. Right. I forgot. It kinda hurts and it's swelling up."
"Let me see," I said taking her hand and gently cradling it in both of mine. I think she might have fractured her thumb and I said as much to her.
She sighed but accepted it as inevitable. I kissed her lightly on the mouth.
"Come on," I said to her, grabbing her left hand, "let's go. It's getting dark and I want to get you home before you trip and break your other hand," I said dryly, but with an element of seriousness in my voice.
…
"Oh, my GOD!" Mom screeched as she spotted the mess we were both in. "Why are you both covered in blood?" she shrieked. "CARLISLE!" she screamed, making my ears ring, "BRING YOUR BAG!"
"Esme, we're fine, really," Bella tried to assure her, "it was just an accident."
"What did you do, Edward?" Mom asked accusingly, peering up my nose. Geez. Gross much, Mom!
"What? Why does it have to be me that did something? How do you know it wasn't Bella, the walking klutz beside me?" I said evading my mothers further ministrations. She turned her mothering attentions to Bella's hand and I took off my backpack, then reached for Bella's, sliding it down her arms.
"Hey!" Bella objected, knocking me in the side with her good hand when her arms were free.
"Well it was your fault," I told her.
"Really, Edward? It was my fault, was it?" she said coldly.
"No!" I gasped. Shit! When will I learn to keep my fucking mouth shut with this girl?
"What's the problem?" asked Dad, as he rushed into the kitchen.
"Look at them! Just look at them both!" said Mom hysterically.
"What did you do, Edward?" asked my Dad, as he quickly assessed our condition and came towards us with his medical bag.
"JESUS EFFING CHRIST! Why does everyone assume it's my fault!"
"Edward!" rebuked my mom sharply.
"What happened?" asked Dad as he peered up my nose. Christ!
"I, um, I punched him in the face," confessed Bella apologetically as Dad stuffed cotton wool up my nostrils. Shit, that hurt!
"Did I hear little Bella say that she punched Edward in the face?" boomed Emmett as he strode into the kitchen. "I would have paid to see that!" he guffawed.
I flipped the bird at him and growled.
"What did you do, Edward?" he asked with a snigger.
"Fuck you, Emmett!" I snarled, but it came out sounding like I was Alvin the chipmunk.
"Edward!" cautioned Dad as he inspected Bella's hand, then placed a bag of peas on it that Mom got from the freezer.
"Both of you, into my office, now!" ordered Dad.
I took Bella's unbroken hand in mine and led her from the kitchen down the hallway to Dad's office. Mom and Dad followed closely behind us, as did Emmett, bringing up the rear with a smirk on his face. Dad slammed the door in his face as he and Mom came into the office. I sniggered.
"Sit!"
We sat.
"Explain!"
I gulped. "Um ..."
"Bella?" shot Dad like lightning when I didn't elaborate.
She swallowed. "I took … umbrage at something Edward said," she whispered evasively.
"Edward?" said Dad sternly. This time his expression said 'don't fuck around; I want answers and I want them now!'
"I, um, I might have forbidden her to do something," I said, equally as evasive.
"You might have, you say? Hmm. And what exactly did you say, Edward, that made Bella punch you in the nose?"
I shrugged.
Dad eyed Bella.
"Really, Carlisle, Edward was just being protective and I took it the wrong way. My punching him was just a stupid overreaction. We kissed and made up and now we're all good," Bella rushed out, then gasped when she realized that she'd referred to us kissing.
"You kissed!" said Mom excitedly, "He kissed you, Bella?"
Bella nodded enthusiastically.
"Ooohh," squealed Mom, hugging Bella to her breast. I don't think I've ever heard Mom squeal before. She must be channeling Alice.
"Esme!" Dad reproved quietly.
"Oh, sorry, Carlisle. Please continue," she said stepping back to stand beside Dad again, with an expression of parental disapproval on her face, but she couldn't hide her delight that Bella and I seemed to have 'hit it off', so to speak.
"So, let me see if I understand this," began Dad.
"Edward, you said something to Bella that she took offense to?"
I nodded.
"Bella, you felt that the offense warranted punching Edward in the nose?"
"Well, not if you put it like that, no," she began, but Dad cut her off. Fucking rude!
"Then you kissed and made up and now everything is fine and dandy?"
"Yes!" I said. "Everything's good. Great in fact. I asked Bella to be my girlfriend and she said yes!"
Mom squealed again. Definitely channeling Alice, I thought, rubbing my ringing ears.
"And Dad, Bella didn't just punch me for a single offense. I was um … a bit of prick!" I confessed guiltily. "I deserved it," I told him. I didn't want Dad to think that Bella just up and hooked me for no reason.
"Oh, Edward," sighed Mom, "I knew it was all your fault."
'For the love of GOD! Is there no mercy?'
"You know we're going to have to move one of them off the third floor, now, Esme," said Dad as he started taping up Bella's hand.
Bella mouthed silently, "I'm sorry" to Dad. He gestured, "it's okay" back to her, then mouthed silently, "I knew it was probably his fault."
'Fricking traitor! What happened to male solidarity?'
"WHAT? WHY?" I yelled at Dad. "Jasper and Alice and Emmett and Rose are all on the second floor. Why are they different?"
"They don't get physical with each other," Dad fired back.
"How do you know?" I mouthed back acidly.
Dad just raised his eyebrows, not because of what I said, but how I'd said it.
"Sorry," I said.
"Dad, we're not you know … that type of physical," I told him with embarrassment. Yet! I clarified silently. Bella flushed red like a cooked lobster. "Geez, I only asked her to be my girlfriend like an hour ago. And we won't be getting the other type of physical again either. I've learned when to keep my mouth shut."
"I doubt that," Bella mutter-coughed into her hand.
I glared at her. 'Not helping, Bella!'
"Good. Let's keep it that way for a while," ordered Dad. Mom nodded her head vigorously in agreement. Bella flushed even redder in the face.
Dad ordered me onto the examination bed so he could probe my nose and tape it. He cleaned it with medical alcohol, then applied strips of tape over the bridge. It had stopped bleeding, so he removed the soiled cotton wool from my nostrils. At least I wouldn't sound like Alvin any longer.
"You might have a couple of black eyes, but I don't think you've broken it; it's just badly bruised," Dad told me. "Stay away from fists and door knobs for a couple of weeks, and you'll be as good as new," he joked.
"Bella, your hand isn't fractured either, but you have wrenched the thumb badly, so it will be swollen and bruised for about as long as Edward's nose takes to heal. Try not to use it too much for the next couple of weeks; no heavy lifting, carrying or pulling, okay?"
"Okay," we both said simultaneously.
I at least, had gotten my own way, as Bella wouldn't be using any fucking chop saw any time soon. I smirked triumphantly.
She noticed and glared.
"Okay, you can both go. You might want to get some sleep; you're both going to feel exhausted when the adrenalin wears off. Take two Motrin for the pain if you need it," he said handing us a couple of pills each.
I slipped off the examination table and walked over to Bella to help her to her feet. I clasped her left hand tightly in mine and led her to the office door.
"Do you want something to eat?" asked Mom as I grasped the door handle.
I looked at Bella. She shook her head. I wasn't really all that hungry either.
"No thanks, Mom. We're not hungry. We'll grab something later if we want it."
"Alright, Dear. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," we both caroled.
I opened the door and Emmett fell in, landing in a heap on the floor.
"You nosy prick!" I hissed as I stepped over him, then picked Bella up by the waist to swing her over him.
"Bro, you can't blame me. That was just too good not to spy!" Emmett crowed unapologetically.
I flipped him the bird and strode down the hallway, Bella jogging to keep up with me. I stopped abruptly when we got to the foyer and she ran into the back of me.
"Sheesh, Edward. Slow down."
"Sorry, Bella. Um, do you want to have a shower?"
She cocked a brow.
"Alone, Bella. I meant that if you want to shower, alone, I'll need to bag your hand so the tape doesn't get wet."
"I know," she replied smugly.
I rolled my eyes and pulled her into the kitchen, slowing my gait this time so she wouldn't have to jog to keep up. I grabbed a couple of large zip-lock bags from the drawer where Mom kept the foil and the cling film and stuff and some rubber bands to tie the bag onto her wrist. I detoured to the freezer for a couple of cold packs (one for Bella and one for me) and threw the defrosted peas Bella had on her hand in the bin. While I was there, I snagged two bottles of OJ and and the rest of the fried chicken from the fridge in case we got hungry later.
'Take that, Emmett!'
Bella smirked.
"Let's take the elevator," I said and she pressed the call button since my hands were full.
When we got upstairs, I led her into my room first and placed the food on the coffee table in the sitting area.
"Let me bag your hand for you, then after you shower, will you come back here?" I asked a little anxiously as I tied a rubber band around her wrist. I tested the elasticity to make sure it wasn't too tight.
"Yes, give me fifteen minutes or so and I'll be back," she promised, then left my room.
I used her absence to have my own shower and wash my hair. Somehow I'd managed to get blood in it, as well as on my face and chest. My T-shirt was ruined, so I tossed it in the bin then dressed in a pair of boxers, black sleep pants and a white T-shirt.
By the time I came out of the bathroom, Bella was back and sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed dressed similarly to me but in a feminine equivalent in a pretty lemon shade. Yes, I know what fucking lemon is! She'd pulled her hair from it's ponytail and she was brushing it out. I halted in my tracks and watched her, totally captivated by the sight and completely ignoring the stray hairs clinging to the upholstery … at least until she went to bed; then I'd collect them up.
I sighed. She was so beautiful. Her hair was a long, glistening fall of chestnut colored waves that reached the middle of her back and surrounded her pale features, accentuating her dark brown eyes. I couldn't believe she'd agreed to be my girlfriend. I was one lucky bastard!
I'd told her about Robert at the meadow. Not all of it, just some of it and she'd listened to me without condemnation. I think that's when I really started to fall in love with her. When I was kissing her, I'd been in lust with her. Before the meadow, I'd been in like with her.
Does that make me a selfish prick, that I'd fallen in love with her because she didn't hate my guts like I hated myself for so long; or was I simply starting to accept what Mom and Dad had said all along – that it wasn't my fault; Robert's death. It really was, just an accident and I didn't need to punish myself and everyone around me.
I sighed again. Bella heard me this time and she looked up smiling at me. She stopped brushing her hair but I walked over to her and took the brush from her, sitting behind her with my legs cradling her on the deep sofa to continue brushing her hair for her. It crackled with electricity and health and I loved the feel of it in my hands. She leaned against my chest and I put my arms around her.
"Thank you for today, Edward and thank you for telling me about Robert."
"I didn't tell you everything," I confessed.
"I know," she sighed and cuddled into me.
"Was that our first date?" she asked with a giggle as she leaned her head back to look up at me.
I kissed her. "Yeah, I think it was!"
…
