A/N: Hi there. If you're reading this then you're still sticking around despite the long breaks between updates. For that I thank you.
As always, my love and thanks go out to chicklette_ for her beta brain, honesty, but most of all her friendship.
The day before my show I was a nervous wreck. I'd spent the better part of the morning with Chelsea finalizing the details of the show, unveiling for her the final pieces I'd only finished that week.
"Jasper, these are . . . my God, they're gorgeous!"
It was a series of six paintings of Edward, all capturing different moments of the day. Edward asleep, eating, at the piano, in the throes of passion, his leg showing around the shower curtain, Edward laughing with the sun setting the background.
"This is like a completely different phase of work for you. I don't know who he is Jasper, but if this is the inspiration you get, you should keep him around."
I made a point of reminding her that all my lovers inspire me. That interaction was the crux of my work, the energy from which I drew; my lovers were my muses.
Chelsea shook her head. "It's not just a river in Egypt, Jasper. Tell yourself what you like, but these pieces are on a completely different level from your others."
Unable to sit still, I headed over to visit with Rose and Emmett. They were still unpacking things, having decided after our trip home to make their living arrangements a bit more official. I helped them for a little while, until Rose finally grabbed a book from my hand and said, "Enough! You've been bouncing around here like a like a terrier on Adderall. I can't take it anymore."
"Is that the thanks I get for helping you out, Rose?" I replied, grabbing the book back.
"Ah, chère, I appreciate the help, but your nerves are wearing me thin. Why don't you call up Edward? Go dancing or something, anything, just work off some of that nervous energy, okay?"
I mumbled my reply.
"What was that, dude?" Emmett asked.
"I said that Edward has plans tonight. His friend Riley's birthday or something," I answered while looking at the book in my hand.
"Why don't you just call up one of your other friends?" Rose continued, gently taking the book from me.
I looked at her.
"Oh shit," she gasped. "Are you jealous that he's out with his friends?"
"What? No! I'm not! You're right. I'm just gonna go call someone else." I winked and smirked. "Someone who might appreciate all this energy."
"Don't you bullshit me, Jasper. You can bullshit your friends, your lovers, whoever the fuck else, but not me." She grabbed my chin and made me look at her. "If you want to be with Edward, be with Edward."
I jerked my chin away, but before I could respond my phone rang. Grinning at Rose, I answered. A minute later, "I'd love to, Seth. Be there soon."
"Seth huh?"
"Mmmmhm."
Emmett rolled his eyes. "Jesus man, you say it like he's a chocolate cake!"
Picturing Seth's bronzed skin and black hair, I laughed. "More like a really tasty mocha with a touch of cinnamon."
"Out!" Rose pointed toward the door. "Just out! Men," she huffed as she walked away.
Two hours later I was grinding against Seth on the dance floor, his back sweat-stuck to my front, our shirts long gone. My hand was splayed out over his stomach, fingertips dipping...
[EDITED] SEE NOTE IN CHAPTER 1
...rush.
Well fuck. I thought. That's new.
And unwelcome.
I tried to shake it off as Seth and I put ourselves to rights. The bathroom lights were harsh compared to the dim hallway, but the place still smelled and sounded like sex. I threw away the condom, washed my hands and splashed water over my head.
"You okay?" Seth asked.
I smiled my nothin'-but-trouble smile, as Momma called it, crowded Seth up against the counter, and answered, "Sure, why wouldn't I be?" before stealing a kiss and shutting him up.
We danced a bit longer, but I blamed the next day's show for my early exit. Seth seemed a bit surprised, but didn't say word, just kissed me goodbye and danced back into the crowd.
Sleep eluded me most of the night. I tossed and turned, until falling into a fitful sleep filled with dreams of green eyes and a too slim build, black hair and pale skin; where Seth danced and laughed, then spoke in Edward's voice, and where dexterous, piano playing fingers slipped out of my grasp. Jerking awake I realized I'd finally managed to pass out and slept into the early afternoon.
Chelsea was calm and organized when I arrived. She took one look at me, led me to the bar and had the bartender pour me a drink. "You look like you could use this, luv."
"Thanks," I said as I took the shot and signaled the guy for another. "Where's your partner in crime? I thought he'd be here."
"Barking up the wrong tree, Jasper."
"Can't blame a man for trying." Not that I really was. He'd made it clear he wasn't interested.
She threw her head back and laughed. "No, I suppose not. Alec, may not make it tonight. He had to fly home for a few days and his flight was delayed."
Although time had seemed to stretch over the last few days, suddenly it sped up and before I knew it people were arriving. Rose and Emmett were among the first, and she had tears in her eyes when she hugged me.
"I'm so proud of you."
When they got to the images of Edward, Rose gasped and I heard Emmett take a deep breath.
"Wow, man. Just . . . I didn't . . . I mean . . ."
"Nice, Em. Thanks."
He clapped his hands on my shoulders, big forge-strengthened hands, and I could feel the weight of his words through them. "Those are amazing, Jasper. I don't think I really understood until now just how good you could be, how good you are, when properly inspired. Don't fuck it up, okay?"
Before I could answer, there was a tug at my elbow and Chelsea was leading me away to introduce me to someone. The next thirty minutes or so was a whirlwind of introductions and glad handing, until I heard murmurs and a steady susurration of whispers.
I looked up and saw Edward making his blushing way over to me, Alice in tow. Something in me coiled up tight inside at the sight of him. It was so like the first time we met with Edward tugging at the clothes Alice no doubt forced him to wear, and his blush searing his pale skin. Pale skin I itched to get my fingers on.
"Chère, you made it."
A softly whispered, that's him, followed Edward to me.
"I can't believe you, Jasper! That's . . . that's me!" he said in a low voice. I would have worried that he was upset, but the look in his face wasn't anger, it was wonder. "I can't . . .the way you make me look," he said.
"I drew what I saw," I told him and pulled him in for a quick kiss.
A murmured aw caused Edward to break the kiss and duck his head down, his blush renewed and flaming.
"And they all know!" he practically squeaked.
Alice laughed behind him. "Get over it big brother! If the music thing doesn't pan out, you could pose naked for all the students at the school."
"Shut it, Alice."
"Hey Ali," I said, still laughing at Edward's discomfiture and giving her a hug.
We chatted for a minute, before a loud, "Precioso!" interrupted. Edward was engulfed by Maria. I got a cursory hug and kiss before she was dragging him off to meet so-and-so, leaving Peter, Alice and I standing there laughing.
The evening continued as I mingled, Chelsea shilled my work, and Maria kept Edward annoyingly out of reach. I was watching him over the rim of my wine glass, watching the way some suit kept talking to him, knowing that it was exactly the type of person Edward couldn't stand, but was too polite to brush off, and I was again taken back to the night we met. To the way he put up with everyone around him, the way he looked at my work, and the way he'd watched me. I remembered the way I'd taken him in the supply closet, the way I first experienced his abandon and passion.
I got achingly, desperately hard.
Turning to Chelsea and . . . whoever it was we were talking to, I excused myself to use the restroom. Taking the long way around, I walked over to Edward, Maria and The Suit, and interrupted with a polite, "Would you mind terribly if I stole Edward here for a moment?" Before they could answer, I was dragging him away.
"God thank you, Jasper. He was driving me crazy! I really appreciate Maria trying to help me with my music, but I felt like he was fucking me in his head the entire time we were talking."
Shepherding Edward ahead of me, I found the door to Chelsea's office and pushed him through.
"Jasper, what—"
I cut him off as I shoved him against the door and kissed him breathless.
"Jesus, Jas—"
"Fuck, Edward, you just . . . you're so . . . I . . .I want you . . . now, fuck," I muttered as I pulled at his shirt and started unbuttoning his pants.
"Jasper! We can't! Not here!"
"Why not?" I whispered against his throat, nipping at his jaw. "Just like the first time. Everyone out there wondering where we disappeared to, and you . . . you were a fucking revelation," I said as I slid my hand down and...
[EDITED] SEE NOTE IN CHAPTER 1
...when we stumbled out of Chelsea's office.
"I'm sorry I'm late, luv! I'll just put my things in your of—"
Still laughing as we ran into Alec, pulling a small suitcase behind him.
"Edward?" he said, taking in the sight, the measure, and the unmistakable obviousness of us.
"Alec? What are you doing here?" Then, as if stung, Edward shook my hand off his arm.
Surprised, I looked at him, saw the panic in his eyes and made one and one add up to two. I wasn't sure I liked the result.
"I see you made your flight," I said to Alec.
Turning to me, Edward asked, "You two know each other?"
"We've met. He's Chelsea's best friend."
"Looks like the show is going . . . well," Alec replied.
Alec was handling the situation with more aplomb than most people probably would, certainly better than Edward was handling it.
"Jasper's show," Edward said. "This is the show you wanted to bring me to? Jasper's show," he repeated.
"How did you not make the connection?" I asked him.
"Cee Cee, he calls her. Cee Cee!" Edward's voice was a bit hysterical. "Cee Cee is not Chelsea!" he continued before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "This is not happening."
"Edward—" He cut me off and stepped away from me as I reached out to him.
"Alec, I'm sorry." Edward took a step toward Alec. "I just—"
"Hey, you told me you were seeing someone else," Alec replied.
"Still, I . . . I . . . I gotta get out of here. Sorry," he whispered and then bolted.
"Edward!" Both Alec and I called after him, but he didn't turn and he didn't stop.
"So, your 'sweet boy?'" I asked Alec, although I was still looking to where Edward had disappeared.
"He is. He's very sweet in fact." Alec turned to me. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Jasper, there you are!" Chelsea broke in to our conversation, grabbed me by the hand and began to drag me back out into the gallery. She turned to Alec. "You coming luv?"
"I'll be out in a few, Cee Cee. Just need a moment."
Chelsea looked back and forth between us. "What's going on? Jasper, where's Edward?"
"He, uh . . ."
She looked between us again. "You know what? We don't have time for this right now, but I will be getting some answers soon."
I let her drag me back out and put on my game face. Alice found me and in a harsh whisper asked, "What did you do?"
"Wasn't me this time, chère." But I moved on with Chelsea to talk to a potential buyer.
The evening was a success, financially and professionally at any rate. Personally, it felt hollow. Edward was entitled to be with whoever he wanted, that I couldn't begrudge him, but Alec . . . he was the kind of guy you brought home to your parents—successful, good looking, polite, educated and, if Chelsea's stories were true, a genuinely wonderful person. Alec was exactly the right kind of guy for Edward, the kind of guy who would give him what he wanted.
Thinking about them together left an itch under my skin; one I didn't want to think about.
Turned out I didn't need to for long.
I didn't see Alec again that night, but Edward . . . Edward showed up at my loft not long after Maria, Peter, and I returned. We'd just opened a bottle of wine when he arrived, and Maria and I were dancing. He looked a little wild, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright, his hair standing on end.
Edward walked over to me, grabbed my glass of wine and swallowed the contents in one go, then turned to Peter and started dancing with him. I'd seen Edward dance with another man before, the night at the club when he was with Riley, but this was different. Then, although I'd denied it, I was jealous; jealous of the history and connection between Edward and Riley, and the fact that Riley was obviously in love with Edward. With Peter, however, there was only a hint, a mild twinge of jealousy; one small moment where I wanted to pull Edward into my arms and away from Peter's. It was fleeting—morphing instead into something hungry and wanting, something I wanted a part of, instead of something I wanted to take apart. I watched Peter's hands settle on Edward's hips and the sensuous rhythm of their movements, and enjoyed the allure of them together.
The music was slow and sensual, the air was heady with smoke and our bodies were loose with wine and happiness. We danced like that for a long time—slow, hot, and...
[EDITED] SEE NOTE IN CHAPTER 1
...pink the sky, I opened my eyes to see Edward getting dressed. He turned with his shoes still in his hand, shirt hanging open.
"Leaving so soon," I whispered, loath to wake Peter and Maria.
Leaning down, Edward kissed me. It was tender and sweet.
It was also goodbye.
"Thank you, Jasper."
"Edward—"
He placed two fingers over my lips. "Shhh. It's okay." His fingers traced my lips, feathered across my cheeks. "I don't regret anything. It's been amazing. You are amazing. But I need more."
Then Edward Cullen kissed me again and walked out of my life.
Weeks later, I was ashamed to admit that I'd been having an epic sulk about it. I was alternately angry with Edward for not being willing to live life on my terms, and understanding of his needs and wishing him the best. I missed him, but there was no way I could give up my life, my work and how I was inspired to it, for him.
So, I pulled up my big boy pants and tried to dive back into my life. I worked on new pieces, and met with buyers that Chelsea insisted I see, and although she never once mentioned Alec, he was always absent when I was at the gallery. I also went out and partied, spending time with Seth and Maggie, Maria and Peter . . . and Paul, Garrett, Kim, Sam and Emily, Erik, Carlisle, Leah . . . well, the list was long. I figured that eventually Edward would get worked out of my system.
Maria? She had other ideas, and she made sure I heard them.
"Mira, coño! Don't you pretend with me! Do you hear me, Jasper?"
"Enough, Maria. I don't want to talk about Edward. We were just . . . whatever it was that we were, okay? It's over. Edward doesn't want me, doesn't want this."
She threw her hands up in the air. "Oyeme, y oyeme bien. You are stupid in love with Precioso, and you are behaving like a . . ." and she trailed off into a stream of expletives in Spanish that I couldn't follow.
I walked out of the room.
"Don't you walk away from me, Jasper!"
"There's nothing left to say, Maria!"
"Oh, there's plenty to left to say, Jasper, you just don't want to listen!"
"What do you want? You want to hear me say I love him? Fine. I do. You're right, I fucking love him okay?" I shouted. "But it doesn't matter, because this life isn't for him."
"So?"
"What do you mean, so? This is how my life is. I don't do monogamy, Maria."
"So, you start doing it."
I laughed at her. "What? Like you and Peter?" I snorted.
"Hijo de la puta! You are such an idiot sometimes, Jasper. Peter and I? What we have? It works because it's something we both enjoy, but if either of us stopped enjoying it? It would be over, finished, because nothing, no one, not even you, comes between us. It is always me and Peter first. What we have works because I enjoy watching Peter take his pleasure and he enjoys watching me, but I would no longer enjoy fucking you if Peter didn't enjoy being a part of that. Entiende?"
"So you're saying that if tomorrow Peter asked you to stop, to be monogamous, you would?"
"In a heartbeat, mijo."
I stared at her for a minute, stunned. "But . . ."
"Jasper, what Peter and I have is different, yes? Not everyone can live like this, not everyone even wants to try, but at the core of it, the heart, it's me and Peter. We're the most important part. The rest? It's icing on the cake."
"Fine, but this is how I do my work. My art is based on my life. You know this, better than anybody!"
"Really? So, how's that been working out for you?" Maria walked over to several partially completed canvases. "This?" She pointed at one. "This is shit. You know it. I know it. It's why you haven't finished it. And this one? It may be finished, but it doesn't hold a candle to what you used to do. It doesn't hold a candle to what you did when you were with him."
Maria was fighting dirty, hitting low, and although I was pissed off and argued with her—spent the next few months arguing with her in fact—it turned out that she was right.