10.
For the first time in my life, I am up before my alarm. My entire body is at attention, and my brain is like my CD player was the summer I was thirteen. I played only one song on repeat until it drove my father so crazy, he slept at the police station, just to avoid me and Ricky Martin.
Edward comes home today!
I get out of bed and brush my teeth. Edward comes home today! I put on my clothes. Edward comes home today! I drink my first cup of coffee and the volume goes way up. EDWARD COMES HOME TODAY!
By the time I get to work, it's barely ten a.m. and I am already exhausted from the strenuous task of being happy in the morning. But it doesn't matter because (and I feel like the whole office should sing it with me), Edward comes home today! Now that the cat is out of the bag and my foot is out of my mouth, it's pretty much general office knowledge that Edward and I are together. By eleven, just as the monotony of the day is setting in, everyone knows that Edward comes home today!
It's just a few minutes later that I receive a text from him.
You remember when you were studying for your GREs?
I make a face and reply, Ugh yeah. The exam was two days before Christmas.
That was the year we all went to Vegas to celebrate, right? he asks.
I smile at the memory. We all spent Christmas Day with our families before flying out Vegas that night. Emmett got so drunk he fell into the fountain at the Bellagio and is now banned from ever returning there. Jasper, on a bet from an inebriated Alice and Edward, walked into Caesar's on the hour, every hour one day, asking "You probably get asked this a lot, but did Caesar really live here?" until he got banned from there.
I write back, Yes! That was such an amazing trip. Pretty sure it's the only thing that got me through studying.
A few seconds later, he texts me back.
Exactly. You feel like Christmas to me.
As if I needed to be any more enamored. If I could figure out how to bottle this feeling, I'd give it to all the saddest people in the world, like the people who don't win reality television dating shows. Or maybe the ones who do.
About an hour later, even though it feels like time has stopped, just as I'm really about to lose my mind—I'm talking 'sneaking around the office and setting all the clocks two hours ahead' crazy—Edward calls me, almost as if he senses this. We chat a bit until I am calm and feel like time may actually be moving again.
"So… yeah. Like I said, 10:00pm. Delta." For all his smoothness, it's hilarious how obvious it is that he wants me to come get him at the airport. I decide that I do want to do something, but not just that. I don't want to do anything that he would expect.
When we hang up, I wrack my brain, trying to come up with a great welcome back for him. Lots of incredibly stupid ideas come to mind, like singing telegrams or skywriting because apparently, I think I'm living in a romantic comedy where stuff like that is cute. Actually, scratch that, I don't even find stuff like that cute in movies.
So I go back to thinking. What does Edward like?
Two things immediately come to mind: Edward likes me. And Edward likes sex.
And then a third thing: Edward likes sex with me.
Luckily I'm quite partial to that—sex with Edward, I mean. Sex with myself is fine, but it's kind of like eating a Snickers bar when you could be having Godiva truffles with Lindt sprinkled over it and Cadbury's in the center—and a Snickers bar on top.
A plan formulates in my head as I go to the vending machine and grab a Snickers (purely coincidental, of course). It's the kind of plan that makes me very nervous but also kind of excited. I remember that in the back of my closet, still in the fantastically intricate box it came in, is a set of lingerie. It's the only lingerie I own—I bought it when Rose, Alice, and I went to one of those high end stores once. The saleswoman gave us champagne and seemed so sweet while the other two were trying stuff on. Then, while I sat there, she plied with me with drink after drink until I was inebriated enough to be convinced to buy something. I knew I should never have trusted someone whose name was "Chignon." I don't even know how to pronounce "Chignon."
That lingerie has been sitting in the box because I've never had any occasion to wear it. I could wear tonight and meet Edward at the airport. That would take care of the "me" part. Then I could take him home and jump his bones. That would take care of the "sex" part.
Part of me thinks that it is ridiculous, that it is so not me to dress up in lingerie for a guy; but then again, maybe that's the biggest surprise of it all. Edward would never expect me to do that. He'd probably expect me to come home with him and then sit on his couch, eating the contents of his freezer—which to be honest, is pretty much spot on.
But the idea of surprising Edward, of surprising myself, is more appealing. The nerves, the anticipation—they're already there, just from knowing I'll get to see him soon. This just heightens it. And I can't deny it; I know Edward finds me attractive. Just imagining the look on his face… it seals it for me.
As if sensing this perfect plan of mine, Rosalie calls a few moments later.
After we get through the pleasantries, she says, "So Alice's birthday is tomorrow. Al-stravangaza 2011."
Yes, that's what Alice calls her birthday. She is exuberant and enthusiastic on a normal day. But every year, on this one day, she turns into the Birthday Girl from Hell. We thought about entering her into a special episode of that Sweet Sixteen show on MTV. It's fine; we indulge her. It's what friends do, and generally, I don't mind. But this year, it's spectacularly bad timing since her birthday falls during a period when all I want to do is lock Edward and myself in an apartment and attempt my first—or I suppose, if we count Valentine's Day, second—sex marathon.
"Yeah, I know," I say. I realize that because I was extra busy at work I haven't seen any of the others all week. I miss Edward, but I miss them, too. I am actually kind of looking forward to celebrating Al's birthday.
"So you know the tradition," Rose says, and I groan inwardly. I do know the tradition Alice demands, that we all hang out the night before her birthday and do a countdown. God forbid New Year's have that honor and Alice's birth not. "Come over to our place around 11:30?"
"Well, what about Edward?" I say, trying to buy myself some time as I do a quick calculation in my head. Skipping Alice's birthday is not an option. Even if she'd let us, I'd never put a guy before any of my friends—even if the guy is one of my friends. Doesn't mean I can't try and sneak in a quickie before, though. "His flight—"
"—lands at 10pm," Rosalie interrupts. "So he should be back in the city by 11:15 at the latest, even if traffic is bad."
If I can get Edward immediately from the airport and there's no traffic, we might be able to make it back to his place by 10:45pm; and Alice lives only ten minutes away from him, so if we try and get to her place by 11:40, that gives us a whole forty five minutes.
"So he'll just come straight to our place," Rosalie says. I begin to think, Oh, he'll come alright,but then halt the thought as I realize I'm talking to his sister while thinking about this. That's something we're going to have to deal with—whenever we tell the others, it's going to be weird when Rosalie realizes I'm having sex with her brother. A lot.
After work, I go home and literally expunge every single hair from my body except for those above my eyes and on my head. This process includes a lot of swearing and complaining about my genes—dark hair and light skin are a terrible combination—as well as being female.
When I try the bra and underwear set on and look in the mirror, I'm pleasantly surprised. Despite my cheese-eating tendencies, I actually have to thank the genes I was just cursing, because I look fairly good in it. Very good, in fact. When I look at my boobs in this bra, I kind of get why Edward is so crazy about them. Of course, it's a little uncomfortable, and the lace and bows sort of show through when I throw my shirt over it, but it'll all be worth it.
—|—
When I get to the airport, I stand with all the chauffeurs with signs, right up against the plexi-glass barrier that separates the arriving passengers from whoever is waiting to pick them up. To my left, there's an impossibly tall, slightly scary looking guy whose named tag reads Demetri; he holds a sign a sign for a "Mr. Miyage", which makes me think, wax on, wax off... which makes me wince thinking about the wax off I did earlier. To my right, there is surly looking Felix, holding up a printed sign for Mr. Marcus Aro, CEO of the Volt & Uri Company.
And in between them, I stand with a sign, written in obnoxious red and green marker, that reads, "Merry Christmas, Redward Sullen". If I get only one chance in my life to use that name, this is going to be it.
The arrivals hall of the airport is not very full, and there's nothing to distract me as I wait for Edward's plane to land. I feel that nervousness that goes hand in hand with anticipation bubble up inside of me, making my stomach twist and turn, making me feel almost sick with the weight of waiting. But it's such a good thing I'm waiting for that I feel like even if I did throw up, I'd be throwing up nice stuff like rainbows and heart emoticons.
I get tired of standing after a few minutes, so I take a seat in one of the plastic chairs nearby, putting my sign down next to me. The chairs are so damn uncomfortable I think I'd actually prefer to stand. As I'm looking around for a coffee shop or somewhere more comfortable to sit, my eyes pass over the board with the arrivals announcements, and that's when I see it:
Edward's flight landed early, about fifteen minutes ago. He's probably through baggage claim and exiting the airport—in the other terminal.
Forget blurting out that he's my boyfriend and showing up at the airport to surprise him, my next actions indicate just how head over heels I am for him. Bella Swan doesn't run. Not for an emergency, not for "fun", not even when she signed up for that half-marathon (she walked it the whole way). But Bella Swan is running for Edward Cullen.
She's also talking about herself in third person, which is mildly disturbing.
Still, I run as fast as I can (which is pretty slow), only remembering that I've forgotten my sign in the chair next to where I was sitting when I'm halfway to Terminal 2. I get to the arrivals area of the other terminal about ten minutes later and realize that my best bet would be to hopefully catch him still waiting in the taxi queue. I rush outside, but there's no sign of Edward anywhere as my eyes scan the space for a tall, messy thatch of his crazy colored hair.
I'm not quite sure why I'm freaking out so much. If I miss him at the airport, I can see him at home. But I want this moment, I want him to see that I came here for him because I couldn't stop thinking about him all day—all week, in fact—and I pull out my phone. The surprise doesn't matter to me anymore. I just want to see him.
That's when I get his text.
Landed. Want to see you. Need to see you.
And it's like one of those perfect moments, because as I read the text, I round the corner—and there he is.
I slow my run—okay, my spastic jog—to a walk and just soak up the sight of him, no damn computer screen between us. Nothing except about twenty feet of empty space between us. It's the strangest feeling because he's so familiar and yet it feels like I'm seeing him for the first time. He's handsome and happy like always, but this time, he's mine and that, that makes all the difference. I feel like everyone around me must be staring at him, watching him as I am, but that may be just because of how good I think he looks. Whether anyone else is actually looking, though, I wouldn't know. I can't take my eyes off him.
He's standing at the curb, a few feet away from the taxi queue, staring at the screen of his phone, probably waiting for my reply.
"Edward!" I call when I'm about ten feet away.
His head turns, and I register the look of surprise on his face as he sees me walk towards him. Then he smiles, and it feels like someone turned up all of the lights in the entire city. His smile is somehow ecstatic and shy and wide all at the same time, and I'm pretty sure I'm wearing the goofy version of it. Seven feet away. And right then, if for no other reason—and there are a million other reasons—I adore him for realizing I'd want him like this even before I knew it myself. I adore him for how brave he's been, how good and sweet he was in putting himself out there, for not just believing, but knowing that we'd get here. Five feet away.
Because I can't think a greater place I've ever been than here, this moment, with me walking into his arms, and him smiling back at me.
And thus my transition from Bella Swan, nutty, neurotic single girl, to Bella Swan, nutty, neurotic girlfriend is nearly complete.
I should write a book or something.
"Bella," he starts to say but before he can get another word out, I grasp the lapel of his coat and pull him to me. No feet away. Here.
Talking we can do later. Talking is all we have been doing for far too long.
My fist still tightly wrapped around his coat, I use my other hand to bring his lips to mine and kiss him thoroughly. I feel his shock last a beat or two longer than I would expect, almost enough to make me freak out, but then he responds. I can hear the thump of his satchel as he lets it slide off his shoulder and fall to the floor so he can put his arms around me.
One hand slides up my back and into my hair as he kisses back, and as our lips meet again and again, it's like there is nothing before this—not our years of friendship, not the few crazy weeks of something more, not even the four days of separation. It's like this was always it; this was always where we'd end up, and it doesn't matter how we got here.
And when he parts his lips slightly, taking my top one between his, it's like there will be nothing after this, nothing but me and him and this ever-growing, unstoppable thing between us, being passed from him to me, from his mouth to mine. I may have started this kiss but he's been leading these past few weeks and I love everywhere he's taken me.
It's my turn, though. It's my chance to show him that he's not alone, that I am right there with him, so I kiss him back, first hard, then soft. I can't believe I've ever not found him sexy, especially when he makes a tiny noise from the back of his throat, a cross between and hum and a grunt, a noise that only I can hear, a noise that only I will make him make.
We finally pull away with three small kisses, at the end of which he mutters, "Hi" right against my lips. It makes me laugh, and I nudge my nose against his once, then once more, just because I can. Because he's here and he's mine.
I want to smile and say things to him, but I can't. He's just too close, he's finally close, and I need to kiss him more. I think I might need to kiss him forever.
I'm in the middle of trying to achieve this when I hear a voice go, "Interesting," dragging out the first syllable.
I wrench my mouth away from Edward's and probably look like a Looney Tunes character with the way my eyes bug out when I see Emmett standing there, leaning against his car with a smile so smug it puts Edward to shame.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
It occurs to me that my arms are still around Edward, though not quite in the tight embrace they were a few seconds ago. I really should move away, maybe try to salvage the situation, but I don't. It's possible it's because I know the jig is up; there's no way I can pass that off as a casual kiss to Emmett. But it's probably because I've missed Edward so damn much that I don't want to move away.
"Well," Emmett says, pushing off the car to walk towards us. "Since I'm the only one of us who has a car, I called Edward and told him I'd pick him up and give him a ride to Alice and Rose's place. Apparently you had a similar idea... Though by the looks of it, you had a different kind of ride in mind." He waggles his eyebrows.
"Har har har, you're so clever, Em," I say in a mock sycophantic voice.
"Thank you, B, I live to please you," he replies in the same tone. Then in his normal voice, he snickers, saying, "Oh, nope, that's Edward."
Speaking of, I turn to Edward. "Um… a little warning?" I tell him.
He snorts. "I was about to tell you when you kissed me!"
"You could have pulled away," I tell him.
"Not for a million dollars," he says, his eyes twinkling. I can't help but grin back at him.
"Awwww, you two are just so sweet," Emmett says. Even though his voice is teasing, I can tell he genuinely means it and I blush a little. "So how long has this been going on? From New Year's?"
"New Years?" Edward and I both ask, simultaneously confused.
"Yeah… you both had dates that mysteriously bailed—"
"My date got food poisoning!" Edward argues.
"I didn't really like mine that much so I told him I was staying in." I shrug, and Edward quirks his lips up at me.
"Yeah but you guys went together," Emmett argues.
"But not together together," I reply.
"Well, you both disappeared, and we didn't see you till like… 3am," Emmett recounts.
"Victoria was at that bar! I didn't want to deal with her, so Quil gave us two bottles of champagne, and we snuck out back to drink them and got wasted," Edward replies. "We rung in the New Year in an alley with some rats."
"Oh God." I shudder. "I forgot about the rats."
"Well, then, answer my question," Emmett interrupts impatiently. "When? Because Bella was talking about—" Suddenly his eyes go wide, and I should know what's coming next, but for some reason I don't anticipate it. "Oh shit! Edward! Oh shit!" He starts bouncing on his toes, giddy as a schoolboy. "You're the best she ever had!" He says it like he's informing Edward of something he doesn't already know.
I groan as Edward, reaching new levels of self-satisfaction, says, "Yes. Yes, I am." He punctuates each of his words with a sharp nod of his head while I can do nothing but shake my own. They high-five before grinning at me.
"Damn, E! The best. You're like The Godfather of sex. If sex was Star Wars, you'd be The Empire Strikes Back!"
Edward pretends to tear up. "That may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Em."
Emmett's eyes widen. "That's why you were talking about that dude's dick!"
"Well... yeah." Edward actually looks a little sheepish.
"Whatever, man! Talk about that dude's dick all you want! The dude is you!" How Emmett can be so smug on Edward's behalf I don't know, but it must be one of those bro rules—always be a good wingman, never put the toilet seat down, and your sexual conquest is my sexual conquest. Boys.
"He's not the only one," I interrupt defiantly. "I was—" and will be "—his best, too!"
They both burst out laughing, and I huff, grabbing Edward's suitcase and putting it in the trunk of Emmett's car, just to escape their infuriating male egos. They calm down and then follow me. Edward and I both move to sit in the backseat.
"Oh no. Hell no," Emmett says. "One of you get in the passenger seat. I'm not going to sit in the front while you two cuddle and shit in the back."
"But… but… but… " I sputter. But I want to hold his hand. And maybe stare at his face creepily. It's my right as a girlfriend!
"Dude," Edward says, injecting just the right amount of pleading into his one syllable. "We haven't seen each other all week."
"I haven't seen you either, E!" Emmett says. "Maybe I missed you, too! You never thought about that, huh?"
"Emmett, if you missed me in the way that she's missed me, I'd rather not think about it at all," Edward deadpans.
Emmett rolls his eyes. "Fucking hell. Fine. Get in." We pile into the car and crank up the heat, having forgotten about the cold in the excitement of reunion. "I feel like a goddamn chauffeur," he mutters.
"We'll tip you well," I tell him.
"What were you planning to do anyway, Bella?" Emmett asks. "Hop in a cab and have a quickie before you went to Alice's?"
The underwire of the lingerie I am wearing digs into my ribs, and I wince as I reply, "Pretty much."
Edward turns his head and beams at me, his smile so wide it melts my heart a little; you'd think I'd planed some elaborate welcome back soiree. But no, he's just happy to get a quickie from me. I can't stay away from him anymore, so I reach for his hand, stroking the back of his palm with my thumb.
Emmett snorts. "It's already 10:40. You would have never made it; unless Edward's a real quickie."
Edward hurls some quip back, but I'm too busy rolling my eyes at these boys; one second, they're high-fiving each other over their prowess in bed, the next they're giving each other shit. I'll never understand guys.
I'm even more distracted when I discover that Edward's hand is seriously addicting. Or rather, holding his hand, touching his skin is addicting. I wanted it to be enough, because I know now is not the time, but the roughness of his hands, the feel of his long fingers wrapped around mine, knowing that if I'm close enough to touch his hand, I'm close enough to touch the rest of him—it just makes me want more. It's like when you know there's something delicious you shouldn't eat, and you're like, 'I'll just take one bite, because one bite will actually help me not be tempted anymore.' But then one bite leads to two, and two bites lead to four and before you know it, you've eaten the half of the cake you just baked for Rose's birthday. Or you're making out with your boyfriend in the back of Emmett's car.
"Dude! Guys, come on!" Emmett pleads, and I reluctantly pull away. Edward keeps me close to him, sliding his arm around me and tucking me into the side of his body. I'm just so excited he's here. Nothing, not even the shit-eating grin he's wearing could keep me from touching him.
"I think we should keep this between the three of us," I say, abruptly, realizing that we haven't quite talked about the full implications of Emmett knowing about us.
Edward frowns down at me as Emmett whines, "Why not? I can't wait to see the look on their faces! It'll be just like Star Wars!" He lowers his voice and covers his mouth with one hands, making a hissing noise. "Luke, I am your father. Guys, Edward and Bella are dating."
"That will not be happening. We're not going to say anything."
"Maybe I should go with Yoda," Emmett muses. He makes that weird Yoda voice as he says, "Fucking, Edward and Bella are."
I roll my eyes. "It's not forever," I say, looking at Edward to reassure him. "Not even for that long. Just for now, because it's Alice's birthday and I don't want to steal her thunder."
Emmett nods slowly. "Yeah, okay, I get that. I can keep my mouth shut." He meets my eye in the rear view mirror. "The question is, can you keep your mouths to yourselves?"
"We could if you'd just let us get it out of our systems right now," I tell Emmett.
"No way, Bella. I don't need to know you two are doing whatever in the back of my car. That shit is gross."
"Oh, because it was so enjoyable when you were doing it with my sister," Edward retorts. I inwardly fist pump. Yes! We have a leg to stand on.
Emmett seems to realize this too and softens his expression. "Point taken."
"Hey," I say, quietly to Edward. I slip my arm around his shoulders and play with the soft hair right behind his ear. "You're okay with that, right? Not telling anyone?"
He leans his head into my hand and rubs his thumb across my other hand, which he's still holding. "Yeah, that's okay." He's silent for a moment before he takes a sharp breath and says, "For awhile."
I nod. "For a while."
"For a short while."
I smile. "For a short while."
"For a really—"
"Soon." I hold his eyes as I nod as he smiles, nodding back. I run my hand through his hair. Again, just because I can. I can do so, so much with him. I can do everything.
A little while later, Emmett pulls up to the curb outside Rose and Alice's apartment building, dropping us off before going to look for parking.
We wait in the lobby of the building for him to come back so we can go upstairs together.
"I'm not trying to rush you, you know that right?" Edward says, concern in his voice. He grabs my hand and starts playing with my fingers, tugging and twirling and curling his around them.
"I know," I reply.
"I just..." He shrugs and lets out a sigh. "I've got you now. I don't want to waste time lying or hiding when I could spend it being with you."
I think I melt a little at his words; it feels like my insides are giving themselves a hug. I cup his cheek and run my thumb over his lips, where his sweet words and sweeter kisses come from. When I look into his eyes, I still see worry there, and I think I understand it. Even if he's so sure about us, he isn't as confident that I am as sure, and I can see it, the slight fear that I'm just going to find this too overwhelming and pull away.
I'm not good with words—hell, I've just started grasping the concept of feelings—so instead, I try and tell him the only way I can think. I slip my arms around him and kiss him, hoping he finds reassurance in the way I can barely think, barely even breathe because I'm so focused, so floored by the feeling of his mouth on mine.
I pull away a few seconds later, and he leans down, resting his forehead against mine. He's smiling lightly, and I notice a tiny laugh line right next to the corner of his mouth. All this time, I thought I knew everything about him. But there's this whole other Edward, sweet and vulnerable, charming and boob-obsessed that I've gotten to see lately; I can't wait to get to know him as well as I know my best friend Edward.
Oh and naked Edward. I really, really can't wait to get to know him better.
"Hello girlfriend," he says, his lips moving against my mouth.
I laugh and don't even bother to move away, just wanting to touch any part of him that I can.
"You are such a girl, Cullen."
"Why?" he asks, feigning outrage and looking so, so cute. Or maybe it's just because I can feel the wrinkles on his forehead as he changes his expression, but whatever it is, it's fantastic.
"'Hello girlfriend'," I mimic. "Such a girly thing to say."
He rolls his eyes, and I feel it as his eyelashes sweep up then down. "One of us has to be the girl in the relationship," he says, shrugging. "I've come to terms with the fact that it's probably going to have to be me."
I laugh. "Whatever, I'm very girly when it comes to you."
"Oh yeah? Show me," he demands.
So I do, acting on the one impulse I feel so strongly in my bones that I think I might start shaking if I don't do it soon. I throw my arms around his neck and just hug him, so close that it might be uncomfortable, but I don't care. He tightens his arms around me and hugs me right back, burying his face in the side of my neck. He's tall, so I'm reaching up on my tip-toes but he hugs me tightly enough to help me balance.
"Yeah," he admits quietly, his lips moving right below my ear. "You're definitely a girl."
"I didn't I used to be," I reply. "What have you done to me, Cullen?"
He pulls away so he can see my face. "So if we're both being girls and you're okay with it... does that mean you're okay with girl-on-girl action?"
I roll my eyes. "Never mind. You're definitely a guy."
He laughs and hugs me tightly once more, kissing my shoulder where his lips touch it. After a few seconds, he says, "This is nice."
"It is, isn't it?" I agree.
"Yeah. I can totally feel your breasts," he says, and he laughs as I push him away and smack his shoulder.
"Such a guy."
"Come here." He tugs on my hand and pulls me back into his arms before I can move too far away. "Make out with me?"
"Are you asking?" I say, laughing.
He nods and puts that adorable puppy dog face on. "I am. I've had a really long week and—" I don't even need to hear his second reason. Hell, I didn't even need to hear his first one.
When we come up for air a few minutes later, he rests his forehead against mine and says, "Well, if I'm not going to have sex tonight, at least I get that."
I pull away slightly and give him a questioning look. "You're not having sex tonight?"
"Uhhh, it's Alice's birthday. Or it will be in like... forty-three minutes. Have you forgotten what Brandon birthdays are like?"
I groan. "I think I've been suppressing the memory for the past three and sixty four days."
"It's all Alice for the next twenty four hours. We'll be lucky if she lets us leave here before dawn," he says. He's completely right; a few years ago, when Alice's birthday fell on a Saturday, she let us all get five hours of sleep. The entire weekend.
Emmett comes back right then, rolling Edward's suitcase behind him.
"Hey E, you forgot to take your suitcase," he says.
"Oh, sorry," Edward says, moving to take it. Emmett waves him away and carries it easily up the stairs into the lobby of Rose and Alice's building before we pile into the elevator.
"You know, it's really cool of you guys to still be here," Emmett notes.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I mean, you haven't been alone in what—five days? It'd be so easy to blow this off."
Edward frowns. "We'd never do that. Mostly because she'd murder us, but also because, y'know, we like her and stuff. "
"Yeah, but it's not like she's not going to be celebrating tomorrow night with all of us."
"Why does it sound like you're trying to convince us to skip this?" I ask, teasing.
Emmett shakes his head. "Nah, it's just nice that you guys are still putting friends first."
Edward shrugs. "We were friends first." He glances at me. "I don't know if there's any other way we would be putting it."
I smile because I couldn't have said it better myself.
We reach our floor and Emmett steps out of the elevator. I move to follow him, but Edward grabs my arm and pulls me back. Jabbing the "door close" button, he yells, "Just wait one second, Emmett!" as the elevator shuts.
"What are you—"
But I can't finish my sentence as he moves towards me and kisses me forcefully, walking us backwards until my back is against the wall of the elevator. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him press the button for the top floor and somewhere within his kiss, I hear the ding when we reach and he presses Rosalie & Alice's floor again.
But that's all in the periphery. Noises, breathing, anything other than him seems to mute. With both hands on my face, he tilts my chin up and kisses me thoroughly. I can't tell what feels harder, the wall against my back or his body, pressed against the front of mine.
I've never been kissed like this, his lips so soft as they press hard and ardent against my mouth. I've never felt so wanted, so needed, so thoroughly immersed in the way someone else is feeling. His hands are still on my face, his shoulders hunched almost like he's trying to pour himself into me with this one kiss. One of his thumbs strokes my cheek while the other rests on my chin, coaxing it down so my mouth can open to his. I do just that, tightening my arms around his body, curving them up to clutch his shoulders from behind, arching my back so my chest is pressed against his.
His tongue strokes mine, and I can't even think. No thought. All my effort goes into keeping my spine from melting and my toes from bursting off my feet, because I feel his kiss all the way there, in every part of me.
Then the elevator dings, signaling we're back on Rose and Alice's floor again, and he pulls away abruptly just as the doors open to an impatient Emmett.
"So much for 'friends first'," Emmett quips good-naturedly, even as he rolls his eyes at both of us.
"Sorry, I just needed to get that out of my system," Edward says, his voice a little hoarse. I'm not sure if he's talking to me or Emmett. He steps out of the elevator, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, flicking his bottom lip with his thumb twice. I've never wanted to be a finger this badly before. I don't really think I've ever wanted to be a finger before at all, now that I think about it.
I just stand there, leaning against the wall, gripping on the railing for dear life, wondering, 'What about my system?'
I step out of the elevator shakily, and we walk down the hall towards the girls' apartment. Emmett raises his hand to knock on the door before pausing and looking at us. His eyes linger over me, and he says:
"You might want to wipe that look off your face, Bella."
"What look?"
"Like you're Paula Deen and he's a stick of butter."
I roll my eyes. "Shut up. I do not look like that."
Emmett knocks on the door. "If you say so."
Edward turns to me, his eyes sweeping over my face and says, "You kind of do."
I flip him off and mutter, "Well, whose fault is that?"
Rose opens the door and lets us in. Emmett walks in, and Edward motions with his hand, saying, "Ladies first."
As I walk in front of him, he pinches my ass, making me yelp.
"You okay, Bella?" Rose asks, turning around. Emmett simply shakes his head and continues walking.
I shoot a dirty look at Edward as I mutter, "I'm fine." The minute Rosalie's back is turned, he winks and reaches to do it again. I jerk forward, slamming into Rose.
"What the hell, Bella?" she asks.
"Sorry. I just... I tripped," I say, sighing as we walk down the narrow hallway that leads to the living room. I can see Edward's smirk out of the corner of my eyes—it's going to be a long night.
But, for once, I have retaliation. I stop and turn around right before we turn into the living room; Rose and Emmett have already walked in and we're obscured from view by the wall.
I take off my coat and Edward raises his eyebrows. Then I unbutton my shirt and—with no shame and a lot of smugness—show him my bra. He goes very still as his smirk fades and his eyes get really wide. Seemingly of its own volition, his hand slowly reaches up to touch me.
"You could have had this tonight; instead, you're—"
"Eeeeeeee! Thirty minutes till my birthday! Thirty minutes, people! One thousand eight hundred seconds!" Alice screeches, with perfect timing. I swat Edward's hand, which has stopped mid-air, and button up my shirt quickly.
I crack my neck and roll my shoulders and as I walk into sight of the rest of our friends, I call back to Edward:
"Sorry. Had to get that out of my system."
—|—
I wake up a few hours later, still pressed tightly to your back, your arm holding me to you. I think it might have been the sun streaming in through a gap in the curtain that woke me up and the sheer nearness of you makes it impossible to fall back asleep. You're slightly restless, and when I start kissing down the back of your neck, you clutch my hand tighter as if to tell me to keep going.
The thought to stop never even occurred to me.
Soon, the way I move and the way you move back against me takes on that very particular rhythm. I slide the boxers you are wearing down and wonder if you'll let me do it this way. All of you—from the top of your spine to your calves to where your toes are flexing on top of mine—is touching me. There's just so much skin, so much tasty, touchable skin, and then even more when my hand reaches around your front, sliding down your breasts to the soft flesh of your abdomen, while I suck on the outside of your shoulder.
Then you're arching your back and whispering my name, but I can't listen because it's so good and I want it to go for just a little longer.
With a long sigh, you curve your back so it's up against my chest again. We're a little less frantic and I'm obsessed with the way you're moving, the way your hips and ass roll against me, the way you feel around me. I skim my free hand all over you, anywhere and everywhere that I want to touch—the outside of your thigh, the underside of your breast, the inside of your arm. And then you take my hand and show me where you want me to touch you. You sigh when I do.
As that frantic need to go faster and harder and more and even more picks up again, there's this sudden, short moment when I am sure I am falling in love with you. Then the moment passes, and both that feeling and I are lost in you.
One more chapter and then the epilogue.
americnxidiot is the hottest hobo ever. yes. ever. may the flannel gods bless her for the rest of her days.
you guys are the best, best, best. you make this so much fun and I can't say enough thank yous. I love hearing whatever you want to say. Tell me, what's your equivalent to The Empire Strikes Back. Or tell me how to pronounce 'chignon', because I really don't know.