Apologies for not sending out what was promised – I had to deal with a ton of shit these past couple of weeks, and only thirty-forty of you ever received anything from me. FFn informed me that AoC wasn't in compliance with the ToS, so I had to edit it. Then I changed my mind and decided to leave it on ADF because it's awesome there, and the edited version would have been ridiculous. Then I didn't have access to my account for a few days. Then there was work, work, work. Then Kristen Stewart was awesome and I got completely distracted. You know how it is. Forgive me. I promise I'll make up for it this chapter – I usually don't suck this much.
Anyway, thanks to ciaobella27 for reading. Thanks to Writeontime for putting up with me tonight – I was a brat, but she still sorta likes me. You guys are the best. Our little group is the best. I love you so much, all of you.
I don't own Twilight. I own squirt guns and a ticket to see The Runaways this weekend – I better see you there.
"Daddy, do you know Edward?" I ask. Stupid question, because the way he's staring at Edward, and his accusatory "You," tell me that my dad knows Edward.
I watch as my father's expression goes from angry, to furious, to completely calm. He clears his throat and takes another sip of his water. I whisper "Daddy?" again, and his eyebrows shoot up. He looks at me, and then at Edward, and gives us both a sheepish smile.
"I don't know your friend, Bella," he finally says, his eyes still on the boy I was kissing a minute ago. "I'm sorry I scared you, Edward. Didn't expect my little girl to walk in with a strange guy in the middle of the day."
You didn't what, dad? I look at my father and stare at his perfect set of white teeth under his perfectly-trimmed mustache. Oh, Charlie Swan. I know that face. That's the face you put on for mom every time she's upset or about to call you out for having done something stupid. Except it's never stupid, but she thinks it is. And if mom thinks it's stupid, it's most likely the most rational, logical thing that could have been done in the situation, but that's neither here nor there right now. Don't use that face with me. Or with Edward. And explain what that was all about.
His smile falters for a second when our eyes meet, but it's back before I can open my mouth and say something.
"Let's try this again," he says, turning towards Edward, "Charlie Swan, Isabella's dad."
"Edward Cullen."
The boy with the long fingers and soft, pink tongue takes a few steps towards my father and offers his hand. My heart goes up, down, left, right, jumps, flips, then beats, beats, beats so insanely fast. The boy didn't sound like a boy. His voice was deep and clear and strong. I watch his hand as it shakes my father's, and I can tell it was a strong handshake, and they are staring straight into each other's eyes. And me? I'm nervously scratching myself, probably leaving disgusting marks along my collarbone and down my chest.
"Nice to meet you, Edward. I haven't really heard Bella talk about you before. New to the Academy?"
"Yes," Edward replies. "My family just moved to Washington from New York."
"Welcome to Forks, then," my dad says. Edward thanks him, and it's a battle of charming, brilliant smiles in the Swan kitchen this afternoon.
"We were caught in the rain, we came here to… I came here to change, and for some soup," I explain.
"I'd say Edward needs to change into something dry too, Bella. There are extra t-shirts from the station upstairs. Give one to your friend."
"Is mom here?" I ask.
"Just me, kiddo."
"Okay. Well, I'm going upstairs to change and get him a t-shirt. Medium okay?" I ask, turning to Edward.
He nods, and when he says "Thanks, Bella," everything is warm and I have to run out the kitchen, because I remember how he said my name earlier, and how the letter 'l' sounds when he says it between kisses and when his body is close to mine.
After I find a t-shirt for Edward and change into dry clothes, I run back to the kitchen. Edward is standing at the counter, staring out the window, and my dad is nowhere to be seen. I manage to say something utterly lame like, "Hey." Edward turns around and yes, he checks me out.
"Your dad said he'll be reading in the living room," Edward informs me.
I throw him the t-shirt and he catches it with one hand, smiling when he sees the police department logo on the front.
"Your dad's a cop?"
"He's the only detective in Forks," I tell him.
"You could've warned me. Law enforcement. What if I'm not a good guy, Bella?"
"Intuition." I shrug. "And I was right, you're totally the type of guy to bring home to mom and dad. You were so kissing up to him with your smile and perfect manners."
"All I did was introduce myself," Edward says.
"How many fathers have you introduced yourself to? The ease with which you dealt with the situation was impressive."
He blushes, and his face is serious and his eyebrows move closer together. "Where's the bathroom? I should change," he tells me.
I show him the way and start to heat up the soup while he's gone. We don't say much as we eat. There is a lot of blowing and slurping and spoons clanking on the table because we keep catching each other mid-stare, and there are coughs and averted gazes, too.
"That was good. Thank you," he says.
I smile at him as I reach out to take his bowl to the sink. He shakes his head and carries it over himself, rinsing it before turning back to me.
"Let me do that," he says, taking my bowl from my hand.
"Oh, thanks."
"No problem, whatever," he mumbles. "I uh, that's a nice color on you."
I look down at my t-shirt; it's my favorite shade of green. "Thanks."
"Uniforms suck. My old school didn't make us wear any."
"They're alright," I disagree. "It's easier to just put on the skirt and a white top and run out the door instead of, you know, having to come up with a new outfit every day."
"I guess." Edward dries his hands and leans back against the counter. "So…"
"Yeah…"
We stand around and I stare at the same inch of Edward's forearm for a long, long time until my mouth decides to work again.
"Do you have a lot of homework to do for tomorrow?" I ask.
"Not really. I got most of it out of the way yesterday and early this morning," he explains. "You?"
"Same," I lie.
"Cool…"
"Wanna hang out for a little bit? We could go upstairs, if you'd like…"
Edward turns his head towards the living room, and then back to me.
"He doesn't care."
Edward chuckles. "Are you sure about that?"
I nod. I always take my friends to my room. Boy, girl. It doesn't matter. I always keep my door open. There's no rule saying I need to keep it open, but I don't want to deal with the consequences in case my parents decide to institute one ex post facto.
I let my dad know we're going to my room and receive absolutely no response. Edward and I shrug and make our way up the stairs. I try to get him to walk ahead of me, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious and not wanting my ass in his face as I climb up the stairs. It doesn't work, and I end up in front of him, my ass probably bouncing in thin leggings right in his face.
"And this… is where the magic happens," I joke, my cheeks burning immediately in response to my lameness.
Edward laughs and looks around. "I like it."
"Thanks."
He walks to the window and looks outside. "Holy shit, it's like a monsoon out there," he says.
I walk over and join him, pretending to give a shit about the rain. We're in Forks. It rains. Big deal. I watch his face and notice that he's not too interested in the rain either, but he's trying to make it seem like he is. I've managed to bore him already.
"So uh, what was that with your dad downstairs?" Edward asks. I jump, and he apologizes for scaring me.
"No, I just spaced out for a sec… Um, I don't know. That was weird, right?"
"Yeah, a little bit," he agrees.
I shrug. "Sorry, I don't know what's up with him."
"I like the t-shirt, by the way," he tells me.
"Oh… cool. It looks good on you?" I say, but it comes out like a question.
"Thanks?" Edward smiles and it makes me laugh.
"No, I'm serious."
"Do you have one too? Maybe we can match."
I shake my head. "No, and you just want to watch me change."
He doesn't say anything. We continue to monitor the weather conditions in Forks and I notice that I'm rocking back and forth with my arms across my chest. I don't expect to feel his hand on my skin, but it's there, and I look up into dark green eyes.
"Nice watch," he tells me, running a finger over the pink plastic of my ridiculous calculator watch.
"Yeah, everything here is nice. My t-shirt, your t-shirt, the soup, my watch."
His hand moves away, but mine follows it and I hook a finger into the faded leather strap of his watch.
"Nice watch," I tell him, yanking on the strap in an attempt to get him to move closer.
"Everything here is nice," he replies. And it worked, because my face is right up against his chest.
"Your skin, your …" Edward continues. I tilt my head up and he lowers his face until we're right there, at that perfect place.
His mouth is open. My lips part. I stand on my toes and try to move closer, but I lose balance on my left leg. He grabs me and holds me to him with a hand on my lower back. My nose touches his chin, then his nose. His cheek scratches mine. 'Kiss me,' I tell him with my eyes. 'Shut up,' he replies, by moving his forehead against mine. At first I count his breaths on my face. I hear each one. I feel and take and breathe back for him. On him. My fingers move up his shirt. They grab and hold and I'm back on my toes, and his eyes are green, and there's nowhere else I can look when they are open like this for me. His lips. They find my face. And his mouth leaves me kisses on my cheeks. My fingers open and close tighter around the cotton and I sway back and forth on my legs, unable to hold myself up. Another hand moves to my lower back to steady me. He moves me against the wall, and his body holds me up. Who is this boy in my room breathing against my skin like it's a normal thing to do? Why are my arms moving up to wrap themselves around his neck? Why has nothing ever felt better than the warm air from his mouth and his hair between my fingers? I play with that hair, run my fingers through it and down to the back of his neck, up and down. His skin is silk, and his hair… His hair.
"Bella… what?"
His mouth is wet and it finds my skin where my neck and shoulder meet. My body trembles and I hold on tighter, and he shakes his head and his lips are moving back and forth. I feel and feel and want to know what he's doing. Is something wrong, or is he trying to kill me with the way his mouth is moving over my skin? I tug at his hair. My nails scratch along his scalp. He finally looks up and Edward is still shaking his head.
"What is this?" He wants to know.
"Nothing bad," I assure him.
He nods, and I take his face into my hands. "My calves hurt."
His smile is delicious. Curved lips and teeth and tongue. I can kiss him against this wall all night if he keeps me in his arms like this.
"Better?" he asks.
"Are your arms tired? I'm heavy," I tell him.
"They're good for now," he whispers.
"Your legs? That's a lot of weight to suppo –"
Yes. Mr. Cullen. Sloppy kisser. You won't win any awards for technique. But I get it. I know. There's no room for precision here. No place for style. This can't be graceful, and who cares about form? This is earth-shattering. Your taste. Your taste, and hands. You are so eager. And I'm willing. Bite. Bite. Bite. Need. Want. Give, and give. Kiss me. Kiss me and dare to tell me it's been like this before. No. Never. You really like that word. Never, Bella. Never. Never. I like it better than the what, what, what you kept asking before. What Bella? This. Your mouth and mine, and your fingers digging, digging, and the thrill.
The thrill.
Then my feet are on the ground and his body isn't pressed up against me. Why? – I want to shout, but I hear the footsteps and I know. I fly onto my bed and grab a book. He is on the floor, a nice boy with his hands holding up his chin and his elbows resting on his crossed legs.
My father passes by my room, waving at us with a kind smile. My eyes are on Edward and his eyes are on me. I want to reach out and touch skin, but he's too far away. I wish I could stretch myself out until my fingertips find him. Or maybe will him to me.
"Your hair is a mess."
"So is yours."
"You weren't even touching my hair," I tell him, grabbing the brush from the table beside my bed.
"I guess your head was against the wall…"
"Better?" I ask, after running the brush through my hair a few times.
"I didn't say it was bad."
"You said 'never' a lot, and kept asking me 'what'…"
He runs his hands through the mess on his head. "Did I? I… I don't know."
"You know."
"If I knew, I wouldn't ask," he says.
"What were you asking?"
"Does it matter?" He moves closer to my bed, until I am able to reach out and touch his hair.
"No," I admit. "But did you get an answer?"
He shakes his head and laughs. "You tell me."
"I don't know what this is," I say. My fingers scratch and tug and play.
"But you know it's good," he whispers against my wrist.
"So, so good."
He kisses my skin all the way to my elbow. He talks, and talks, and listens, too. His mom can't cook, and Rosalie's dad lives in Africa. She plays the cello and hates Chicago. They're here because his mom is designing a house for a rich guy, and it's the opportunity of a lifetime. He hates needles and loathes sports. He likes cars and my freckles. His hands are always cold, and he won't believe me when I tell him they always feel warm. In the morning after a quiet, uneventful ride to school with Jane and Jasper, I sit next to him and he touches me with his cold hands, and I hold one hand between my thighs as he takes notes with the other. Ms. Denali stares and stares, but can't see what's going on from where she's standing in the front of the room. After he probably loses feeling in his fingers he removes his hand and I uncross my legs. He flexes and we stare at his fingers together, and then they find mine. They don't let me go until he has to leave me in front of the chemistry lab.
XxXxX
"She doesn't hate you. Stop being a drama queen."
I lean back against Edward's chest and sigh. "Then where is she? She just disappeared after class."
Jasper shrugs and bites into his sandwich.
"I had something important to ask her," I continue. "It's about my birthday."
"Bella, you're not changing your plans, are you?" Jasper asks, looking at me like I've lost my mind.
"No! It's just, Edward suggested that we hang out at his place on Saturday night, since his parents are out of town."
"That sounds fine," Jasper says, "I don't think Jane cares, as long as you don't cancel your plans with her."
"Yeah, but would she come?"
Jasper nods, saying "Yeah, why wouldn't she" – like my questioning it is ridiculous.
"You're free, right?" I ask Jasper.
"I was gonna hang out in Port Angeles with Emmett; there's a car show."
I turn my head and look up at Edward. "You like cars."
He smiles. "I'm going in the morning."
"Look at the two of you. Are you guys fucking? That took no time," Jasper says.
I throw my empty soda bottle at him.
"Jesus, Bella, I'm kidding."
"You need a girlfriend, Jasper. I know you and Emmett love each other and can't stand to be apart, but I suggest you go out and meet girls. The car show doesn't sound like the ideal place for that," I tell him.
"Don't worry too much about me, Swan. Anyway, about your birthday, mind if I bring Emmett?" he asks.
"I don't know. Ask Edward, it's his house."
Two strong hands cover my belly, and Edward leans forward until his mouth is just behind my ear.
"It's your birthday."
I smile at Jasper, who heard what Edward said. It's my birthday. I know those words are nothing, really, and maybe he's just being nice, but there's something about the way I'm resting against him, about the way he puts his hands on me, the way he says it's my birthday… Something that says he's not just being nice. Jasper smiles back, he gets it. He knows. He's heard me talking to his sister and he's seen her sketches.
"Cool," Jasper says, "I'll tell Emmett about it."
He can tell whoever he wants. I almost don't care who shows up as long as Edward's mouth is on my wrist or cheek, or his fingers and my fingers are all tangled up and my lips are on his soft, soft hair. Is this how it's supposed to feel? Like I'm taking tiny breaths very quickly but can't get enough air. Like every second lasts and lasts in his presence, but time goes by too fast. It's good. Like I told Edward, it's so good, but it's also different.
I've been trying to put all my memories of dreams away to focus on the present. Here. Now. Edward. It's been much easier than I would have anticipated, but I know there is something different. I felt it earlier when he came and snatched me away from Jane. It's like I know that Hat Guy wouldn't do that. Edward doesn't seem to care about anything outside of me and him. Us. The way he looks at me, and the way he's so focused on everything I say. How different is he from the new kid who acted like a jerk and ignored me?
"Bella! Stop staring at Cullen's hand. Geez, it's like I'm not even here."
Jasper is laughing in my face. My face burns when I realize how I managed to get lost in my head again. Luckily, Edward is behind me and can't see.
"You're boring, Jasper. You managed to put me to sleep," I say, stretching out my arms and pretending to yawn. I feel Edward's body relax against the tree and I allow myself to completely relax against him. I'm not sure how we found ourselves in this position. I'm waiting for a teacher to walk by and glare at us, forcing us to sit up. I'll have to leave my place between his legs.
"Are you comfortable?" I ask Edward, prepared to hear one answer only.
"Yeah."
One-word responses. This actually doesn't surprise me much. His mouth rarely moves to form words in my dreams.
"Do you like chocolate?"
Resting my head against his chest and looking up to see his face, I tell him 'yes.'
"Do you like beer?"
His arms are around me, so I struggle for a second to turn around and completely face him. Edward is so hot. Not hot like Shia is hot, or Mark Wahlberg is hot... He's hot like that too, but what I mean to say is that his body is hot. His skin. Warm. Maybe he thinks mine is too, because his eyes close and he takes a sharp breath through his mouth. I watch how his Adam's apple bobs as be swallows. I want to reach out and touch it.
A second ago, I turned around because I was curious about his random questions. I appreciate the effort, because he's trying to get to know me. But I forget to ask why we are talking about beer and chocolate. I just smile instead.
"So yeah? You like beer?" he asks to confirm.
Not at all. Beer is disgusting. "Yes."
"Cool."
"Where's my sister? I never thought I'd miss having her around for lunch," Jasper says.
"She'll turn up," I tell him, craning my neck to see if she's anywhere nearby.
"Class in fifteen," he comments.
Class in fifteen? What happened with all the time I had with Edward?
I hear him groan behind me, and his hands are on my shoulders.
"Bella, I have to go get something from my car," Edward says. "I'll be right back."
I sit up and nod. Jasper and I watch him sprint off in the direction of the parking lot. I eye the string cheese Jasper has in his hand. He notices and shares.
"Wow."
"Huh?"
"You work fast, Swan."
I roll my eyes at him and swallow the last of the string cheese.
"When did you guys start hooking up?" he asks.
"We're not... We've kissed."
Jasper raises an eyebrow and throws a bag of carrots at me.
"Mom's making our lunches," he explains.
"Fun."
"Well, that's pretty crazy," Jasper says. "Have you gone out on a date? You haven't mentioned anything."
I nod. "Yesterday. Instead of going to Port Angeles."
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"It worked out for the best." I smile at my friend. "How's your mom holding up?"
"She's doing better."
Denial.
"Cool. You?"
"Jane told you everything?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"If that motherfucker thinks I'm still his son or will be around to watch his kid grow up, he's..."
"Jasper, you're still his son."
He shakes his head. "I want nothing to do with them."
"I wouldn't either," I admit.
"Charlie would never do that to you guys."
"No..."
"I'd never do that to my family," Jasper says.
I move closer to him and wrap my arms around his arm. "I know."
He sighs and plays with a strand of my hair. "So, do your parents know about Cullen?"
"My dad met him."
"Charlie met Cullen? How'd that happen?"
"Long story… Actually, it was very strange. He looked like he knew Edward from somewhere, and then just… it was weird."
"What'd he say?" Jasper asks.
"I don't even know. Nothing. And Edward thought it was weird too."
"Huh." He scratches his head and then laughs. "Maybe he's seen Edward in his dreams too, Swan." His laughter becomes hysterical. "Maybe he's gonna steal Cullen away from you."
I smack Jasper in his chest and laugh along with him.
"Look at him run."
I turn to see Edward approaching us. Our eyes meet and he slows down, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, he's trying to play it cool, like he wasn't running back to you," Jasper jokes.
"Whatever."
It's almost time for class. I get up and gather my stuff. Edward and I walk together, and it's very quiet. We stop at my locker and he leans against the one next to mine.
"Are you going to continue to touch other guys like that?"
"Are you going to be an asshole about it if I do?"
"I won't be around to be an asshole if you do."
I slam my locker shut and start to walk away.
"Bella…"
His voice. I can't let him do this – say the two syllables that form my name and make me change my mind about everything.
"Jasper's like my brother," I say.
Calm down, Edward. You always look so angry.
"Are you going to touch other guys like that, then?" he asks.
"I don't want to."
Don't make me touch other guys, ever.
He touches my chin with his finger. We make it to class just before the bell rings. His hand is on my waist, down my hip. He kisses my cheek and we walk in and take our seats. We want to study together, but I run into a very happy Jane in the hallway after class, and she wants to hang out after school. I tell her Edward will drop me off. I don't know if he's disappointed as we pull up behind Jasper's car in the driveway. I kiss him and kiss him, and he asks me if I like chocolate or vanilla frosting. I tell him vanilla, and kiss him for asking. When I walk through his front door with Jane a few days later, he smells like our kitchen after my mom has baked for Jane and Jasper. He hands me a beer and I tell him I lied about liking beer. He looks annoyed and asks me why, so I kiss him, and I think there are people inside to help me celebrate my birthday, but I don't care.
I've written most of the next chapter, so it should be up soon. Tell me if you like this? How does everyone feel about Edward? Bella? Where the fuck was Jane? Let me know your thoughts!
Thanks for reading.