Chapter Ten: Exposure

EPOV

Bella, the girl I've chatted to on Facebook and fucking fallen for in the past three weeks, is on a date with Dr. Mother Fucking Feelgood.

Fuck.

I pace around my living room, glaring at my laptop screen as I silently curse Dr. Jacob Black. I can't blame him for asking Bella out. Not really. She is beautiful...and witty, and smart, and has the whole 'dry humor' thing going on.

Fuck!

It's not like she's betrayed me. I've only lightly flirted with her, too worried that I might scare her off by laying it on too thick. I've been waiting for her to take the next step, not sure myself what that next step may be, but we've never gone very far, only chatting about sex and domination that one time, and definitely not chatted about the future...her future, my future...our future?

I stop pacing, close my eyes and take a deep breath. Our future? Did I really just think that? Did I really just imagine a future with this girl...with this girl I hardly know, a girl I've never spoken to on the phone, a girl who's never seen my face and doesn't even know my last name, other than the pseudonym I choose to go by?

Yes. I imagined it. I imagined a future with Bella.

My eyes pop open and realization consumes me. She thinks we're friends. She doesn't understand that I've developed feelings for her, feelings that I've unconsciously been hiding because of a woman from my past. I've guarded my heart...too closely, and now she's on a date, a date with a prestigious man. She's on a date with a doctor for crying out loud.

I need someone. I need someone to talk to; a confidant. Someone who won't judge me for showing my weaknesses and concerns.

Definitely not Emmett.

I pull my cell from my pocket and scroll through until I find my beta's name. Pressing the phone to my ear, I begin to pace again, shooting the death glare at my laptop screen each time I pass it by.

"Eduardo," Jasper's slow, Southern voice drawls from the phone. "How's it goin'? Haven't heard from ya in a while. You got that new chapter ready for me to beta?"

"I need help," I admit, my voice sounding weak and shaky to my own ears. "This has nothing to do with writing. Well, yeah. It sort of has everything to do with writing. Wait. Not really. Jasper, I think I'm in love."

"Whoa, slow down, buddy," Jasper advises in a whisper, the phone sounding muffled and distorted for a moment. "Let me shut the door. You know how M&M likes to eavesdrop. Nosy woman."

I sigh, rolling my eyes at the mention of his girlfriend 'M&M,' whose real name is Monica Maria. Jasper calls her M&M for short. I refuse to call her by that stupid nickname.

Almost as stupid as Jazzypoo.

As crazy as Monica is, she's equally as hot. Standing around five-three with sweet curves, creamy brown skin, and a killer rack, she's a true vision. The two recently decided to move in together after meeting several months ago at some smoky, seedy bar while line dancing.

Yes. Line dancing.

Apparently, Monica noticed him doing the 'Boot Scootin' Boogie' or some shit and fell in love. The girl is psycho-obsessed with Jasper.

That's probably because she's a psycho.

She makes Amanda Bynes look like Santa Claus.

Monica is seriously deranged. The chick could channel Kathy Bates from 'Misery.' If Jasper doesn't answer the phone for a couple of days I immediately worry that he's tied to a bed somewhere getting the shit beat out of him with a sledgehammer while Monica stands over him, berating him for cursing from the pain.

Why did I call Jasper again? Oh. That's right. For relationship advice.

Epic fail.

"You know what, Jasper?" I hedge. "Nevermind. You're probably busy with Mon..."

"Naw," he interrupts, the distinct sound of water sloshing around in the background meeting my ears. "I just need to shut the door for a minute. She's...she's weird about me being on the phone sometimes."

She's weird about him being on the phone sometimes? She's weird in fucking general.

"What are you doing man? Washing dishes?" I ask as the sound of water splashing around grows louder before eventually fading away.

"I, uh," he stutters. "I really can't talk about it now, man. What's up? Tell me what's goin' on."

I shake my head in confusion before quickly giving him the details about what's going on the past three weeks. I tell him how we began chatting and how my feels have quickly developed. Then I tell him about her date with Dr. Feelgood.

"So she's on a date right now?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"And you asked her to Skype you?"

"Yes."

"What'd she say?" he questions.

"Nothing," I hiss in frustration, throwing my free hand in the air. "She's said nothing since I asked her to Skype me."

"Maybe the elusive Dr. Feelgood finally showed up for the date," he chuckles, the thought instantly pissing me off even more. "Don't worry about that guy, man. Women...they deduct points for things like that."

"Deduct points?"

"Oh, yeah," he muses wisely, more water sloshing around in the background. "Points. Late for a date? Point deduction. Forget to compliment her new haircut? Point deduction. Women...women are ruthless."

He would know.

"What do I do now?" I ask.

"Now...you wait," he drawls. "She'll message you back, man."

"I'm feel like I'm losing my mind," I confess. "Maybe I'm moving too fast."

"Look, you like her, right?" he drawls.

"Yeah. Yeah, a lot actually."

"Then you're not moving too fast."

I can imagine him shrugging, as more water sloshes in the background.

"Are you in the bathtub, Jazz?" I ask, immediately feeling creeped out at the thought of Jazz naked in a bathtub, talking to me while his schlong floats around in the water.

Smiling. Because that guy smiles all the time.

"Uh, yeah," he admits. "M&M's practicing her photography and I'm her subject...again."

"I didn't know Mon was a photographer."

"She's not."

Insert silence.

I shudder.

Suddenly, a female voice breaks the uncomfortable quietness.

"Jasper, why is this door locked?!"

Fuck. I can hear her screaming in the background. The tale-tale sound of her tiny fist beating against a wooden door rings in my ears. Jasper's voice fills with panic and alarm as he ends the call, but not before I hear the last words coming out of her mouth.

"You better have your boots on when I get in there! Are your legs hanging out of the tub? If those boots get wet I'll murder you!"

I shudder again as I disconnect the call, remembering the time Jasper drunk-texted me, confessing that Mon makes him wear his cowboy boots everywhere, claiming she has a slight cowboy obsession.

When I say she wants him to wear them everywhere, I mean everywhere.

I toss my useless cell on the desk, glaring at the computer screen once more. She's still failed to respond. My heart sinks in my chest and I know I've ruined whatever friendship I've forged with this woman by crossing the line, asking her to Skype me.

Weary with regret and exhaustion I trudge to my bedroom and fall on the bed. After tossing and turning for a couple of hours I eventually fall into a restless sleep, my dreams full of a faceless man kissing my girl...kissing my Bella.

~h00rs~

I awake with a start, shooting straight up in bed and glancing around the room in confusion. I'm partially clothed, wearing the same pair of jeans I'd worn the day before, although my shirt is mysteriously absent. The window beside my bed remains dark, and after a brief glance at the digital clock I find that it's almost three am.

The hour of the dead.

Like my cold dead heart.

A dry chuckle escapes my lips and I yawn and stretch, shaking my head at my own dramatic thoughts. I've always found myself odd, maybe even a little dramatic, but I tell myself it's because I'm a writer and we're all a little freaking weird.

I try to think of these things as I shuffle to the kitchen and chug a bottle of water. I try to think of anything, anything other than her, but she refuses to allow me to ignore her, because as I stand in that kitchen I hear it. I hear my Facebook Messenger alerting me of an incoming message.

I choke on the water that runs down my throat, tossing the useless bottle in the kitchen sink as I cough and sputter. Stumbling to the desk, I grab the phone, breathing a sigh of relief as I see her name.

And messages. I see message after message after message.

A grin crosses my face as I read them. Her humor still evident as she breaks down what seems to be the most horrible date in existence.

What straight man takes a girl to see Magic Mike on a first date anyway?

I walk around the living room for a moment in an attempt to mellow myself out, but find myself strutting around instead, my swagger only obvious to me, as I am in the apartment alone gangsta leaning like a pimp.

I cannot contain the swag. This girl, this beautiful girl, went on a date with a single, successful doctor, only to come home and message me later.

Score.

I drop down in front of my computer and stare at the screen once it's lit up. A smile plays on my lips at the last line.

I guess you're asleep? Too late for the Skype date? It's a shame. I'm pretty drunk and wearing my pink negligee. - SwanLake

Sweet baby Jesus. At the mention of the negligee my cock stands at attention.

I'm up! I mean, I'm here! - TonyMazen69

Oh, I'm up. I'm definitely up. My cock feels like a steel rod in my wrinkled jeans.

When she messages me back I immediately realize she's drunk.

Do you like me, Edward? Cause I like you. I like you a lot. - SwanLake

I like you too, Bella. Why do you think I want to Skype? Why do you think I was so pissed off about your date that I contemplated driving, flying, hell, I'd even WALK to wherever you are, just because I wanted to kick your date's ass for leaving you waiting? I want to kick his ass for asking you out. Yes, I'd say it's obvious that I like you. - TonyMazen69

There's a long bloated pause before she answers.

Give me your Skype info. - SwanLake

My heat thumps erratically in my chest. My eyes widen and I'm doing it. I'm giving this girl my info and waiting for her call and I'm so fucking anxious to see her beautiful face that I don't even realize I probably look like shit until she's staring back at me through the screen; staring at my disheveled hair and shirtless chest.

Fuck.

I can't even worry about myself. I can't worry about anything but the way she looks. Her makeup is smeared slightly under her eyes, giving her a dark, seductive look. Her long brown locks are sleep-rumbled and she wears a thin, pink, silk negligee, so thin I can see her hard nipples straining against the fabric as she stares blankly into the screen. Her full lips are parted slightly, and a look of astonishment dances across her features.

"I fell asleep," I mumble lamely as I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it, but failing miserably. "I guess I look like shit."

"You're beautiful."

I chuckle at her words, at being called something I've never been called before, at being called a word meant for a woman. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and blushes a delicious shade of pink. The color travels from her cheeks, and down her neck, disappearing in her cleavage that she so courteously displays as she leans slightly closer to the screen, swaying in her seat.

"You're the one who's beautiful, Bella," I admit, smiling as she blushes deeper. "So beautiful."

"This is so weird," she admits, pretending to ignore my words as she leans to the side and reaches for something. "Finally talking to you, face to face so to speak."

The thin strap of her negligee slips from one shoulder. The fabric skirts down over her creamy skin and I see it.

I see one full pert breast...a mound of flesh that I'd love to caress, and one rosy nipple that I'm desperate to suck between my teeth.

Shameful Hoodfabulous Fanfiction Confession: I write about people I know. I usually twist their characters into something majorly dysfunctional. M&M? Totally real, although she's completely mentally stable...but she does have a slight cowboy obsession! I love you, Mon!

Got a confession for me?

Reviews = lurve. I've failed at answering reviews for a while now. Two wips makes it difficult to answer reviews, but I do love and appreciate each of you who take the time to leave me a confession or chapter review. Thank you

Peace,

Hoodie