Bella screamed

Bella screamed.

Seth staggered a little, gaping at me in astonishment, while I gaped back at him. He was made of iron. My hand fucking hurt. But not as much as his face was going to.

"What the fuck, Edward? What the fuck are you doing?" Bella was shouting, trying to grab me.

"Call the police," I growled to her, right arm more or less disabled, but ready to lose the use of my left as well in her defense.

"What for? To tell them you've gone troppo?"

"You just said this douchebag forced you," I hissed.

"I didn't mean what you're thinking. What are you thinking? You've got it wrong!"

"Wrong how?"

Holding his chin and smirking, Seth said, "Man, you really need to chill."

"You fucking chill, motherfucker," I ordered. "Bella? What did you mean?"

"He didn't actually force me, I just didn't want to do it but I went along with it anyway because he would have made such a fuss if I didn't..."

I hit him again. This time he went down.

"Jesus!" Bella cried, "You fucking caveman!" and she shoved me. From the floor, Seth started to laugh.

"I see what's going on here," he said.

"Well, fuck - so do I! Edward is a psycho!" Bella shrieked.

"I'm a psycho?"

"Yes!"

To my amazement, Bella hoisted a vase of flowers she had sitting on a side table, and threw the whole lot over me. Dripping and covered in petals, I stared at her, a watchful eye on Seth at the same time.

"You look lovely," he said. "Like Ophelia."

"Shut the fuck up. And stand up," I growled at him. I couldn't hit him if he was on the floor.

But Bella had disappeared from my field of vision. Looking around, I saw her scoping the room, frowning, until her gaze came back and caught the wine bottles. She picked one up and advanced towards me, holding it in front of her like a sword.

Unbelievable. Giant stranger-boy does something to her without her consent and she wants to hit me with a bottle. Fuck my life.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" I demanded, as Seth got to his feet. "Not you," I added pointedly before turning back to the tiny menace with the weapon, Bella.

"You tell me," I ordered.

"Will you stop hitting Seth? Can you behave?" she asked.

"Bella, you said he made you do things you didn't want, you said he forced you - "

"Yes, he did - he made me go shopping!"

My jaw dropped. "He what?"

"He dragged me to all these stupid stores to pick out stuff for the wedding! He hauled me around fucking boutiques and malls and plazas driving me completely insane! I hate shopping!"

Yeah, I knew she did. That's why she had no wine glasses.

"But Bella, I thought - I thought you were saying he'd hurt you. That he'd - well - " I stopped, because I couldn't bring myself to say what I thought she'd meant. The idea of anyone hurting Bella made me feel unhinged.

She didn't even have the grace to look contrite. "Okay. Well. Perhaps from what I said you could have inferred - what you inferred - if you were a lunatic, but fuck - if anything like that had happened - do you think he'd be here now? Because no - duh. You didn't have to attack him, Edward."

"Yeah," Seth said, looking smug.

My muscles were still tensed, teeth still gritted, as I considered her point. Okay. Maybe if somebody assaults you, you don't invite him home to your apartment and then give him alcohol and let him stay the night.

Seth cleared his throat. "Look, Edward, it was a misunderstanding. And dude - I'd want to kill anyone who harmed Bella too, so kudos to you. That's a hell of a punch you're packing. You must be doing some training. "

Yes, I train. Yes, I can punch. But there's still a whole lot here that needs clarifying, bozo, so never mind your fucking kudos.

I was glaring at both of them, while Bella had her arms crossed over her chest defiantly and her chin jutting out, glaring back at me. Stalemate. Seth broke what was becoming a protracted silence with, "How about I go find something to clean up this spillage?"

He went to the kitchen leaving Bella and me motionless, neither about to back down. My head was racing with questions.

So - you met this guy in Port Angeles? How exactly? And then why were you staying with him? Wasn't that pretty sudden? And why did you get him involved in your dad's wedding? And why did you bring him here? And what was the fucking "celebrating our relationship" remark all about?

Fuck. She didn't want me to hit Seth's pretty face, and he hadn't done anything untoward that harmed her. Fine.

Well, actually not fine. Nothing was fine, especially me. At all. Jesus, Sweetness. Warn a guy before you sneak up on him over a two year period with a best friend thing, then grind on him and come all over him, then suck his dick as if you really like it, then leave him choking on your dust while you replace him in a matter of days, and flaunt his successor in front of him.

"Bella?"

"Don't even. Don't even. I'm mad at you."

"You're mad at me? For defending you? Right."

"For - for - right."

We glowered at each other, but inside, I was feeling acute pain.

"Is that all you're going to say?" I asked finally, wanting an apology for her disappearing and not contacting me, and then re-appearing with this unexplained man who even I could see was major eye-candy. And now that I knew he hadn't hurt her, I could grudgingly admit that perhaps, yeah, he was open and friendly, and maybe even a nice guy, which made me worried sick, along with screamingly jealous. Please, Bella. Give me some sort of reassurance.

"Is that all you're going to say?" she retorted, still sounding affronted and hostile, which wasn't reassuring at all.

Meanwhile Seth had come back and started wiping the coffee table.

"How did this much water fit in a vase that size? And you've ruined the flowers I brought you. Nice mess, Bella."

"Any time. Well - sorry I broke your vase."

He'd given her the flowers? I should have guessed he'd brought the fucking vase too, since I knew she didn't have one. With her apartment being in the lamentable state it was, I'd tried any number of times to get her interested in making the place more comfortable and stylish. I'd even employed subterfuge - "Oh, Bella, I've found this awesome cafe, it's in a department store, let's meet for lunch, their tiramisu is the best," and steered her through kitchen sections and home furnishings before we got to the food. The first time it almost worked.

"Oh, look, Bella - a saucepan set. Matching cookware would be great, wouldn't it?" For a microsecond she'd appeared interested, but eagerness for sweet treats had gotten the better of her.

"Edward, I don't care if the lids on my pots don't fit, and if the handles fall off and I have to pick the fucking things up off the element using an oven mitt."

"Bella, when you cook rice it would actually turn out okay if the fucking lid fitted, and you wouldn't risk third-degree burns if you had pots with handles."

"Who cares? Where's my dessert?"

For all my troubles I'd been given looks that could have withered leaves off trees, so I was well aware of Bella's aversion to shopping.

And being taken to shops was what she was complaining about with Vase-boy? Jesus - from the way she'd carried on I'd thought he - and here he was, kneeling on her floor, mopping up, while I tried to catch my breath. Shit.

Having done a creditable job, Seth stood.

"How about you two declare a truce and we all get out of here so we're off the wet carpet? There must be someplace close by where we can we grab pancakes?" he suggested. "Because I am fucking starving. Bella doesn't have any food in the house. I don't know how you survive, girl."

Get off her case, I thought. Even if what you're saying is true. She never has any fucking food because she doesn't like cooking. Probably why she's so thin.

And Seth was still going with the helpful hints, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"You're going to need a change of clothes there, buddy, you're pretty wet. And covered in flower residue. That's probably not a look often seen in downtown Seattle at this time of the morning."

Downtown Seattle was going to have to wait five minutes for the glory of me, because as Seth as pointed out so rightly, I was soaked and needed to get changed.

"Come on upstairs, let's all go - you'll like Edward's apartment," Bella remarked to Seth before I could protest, and next thing I knew they were crowding behind me in my little vestibule, surging into my living room.

"Well," Seth said gazing around, while Bella went straight to the fridge as always, looking for chocolate as always and finding it, as always.

It only took me a matter of minutes to shower and dress, and get back to my guests.

I'm not a pig, and I don't live in a sty. As an architect, I have plenty of friends and contacts in the interior design world, and I like my comfort. My place combines the practical and the luxurious. When Bella came here, she usually looked around and said, "Jesus, you suck. Have you got any beer?" because of her taste bypass, which I have been willing to overlook for the sake of friendship.

Seth, however, seemed interested in more than beer and chocolate.

"I like how you've combined your textures," he said. "And I love the achromatics against the triadics."

Just hang on a minute. Nobody normal knows these words.

Bella, where did you meet this guy?

"Pardon?" I said.

"Is that a Biers?" He pointed to my desk. Well, shit. It was.

"And your standard lamp. It's mid-century. Kachiri?"

Seth, you just got a whole lot more interesting. For a douchebag.

He gestured around. "Jeez - did you take this on as a furnished apartment? Or did you get in a designer?"

"No. I redecorated myself once I took over the lease."

Seth raised an eyebrow as Bella came out of the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, Edward," she sniffed. "His mother is arty-farty-la-la-la. He thinks you can put purple and orange together just because of his last name."

As it happened, my mother was a designer of renown, but why Bella should be announcing that fact to Seth I had no idea.

"What's your last name?" he asked.

"Cullen."

"Cullen?" he queried. "You mean - as in Esme Cullen - House of EC?"

"Yeah."

"Ooooo-kaaayyy. Christ. Why didn't you say so? Jesus, Bella, you've been holding out. Jesus, Edward - how busy are you? Can you get a day off work during the week? Can you help me put this wedding together? Because quite honestly, Bella is fucking hopeless, and the situation is desperate."

Weirder and weirder and weirder. Was I on drugs? I just couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Bella asked, rolling her eyes. "You two dress the room or whatever you call it, and adorn the tables and select the flowers for the bridal bouquet, and I can have some fucking peace! Go on, Edward. Say you'll do it."

"Seriously, man," Seth said. "Her dad booked an empty hall to hold the whole event in, and it's in dire need of some vision and artistry. Bella hasn't a fucking clue what to do about it and I could really use some help."

I stared at him. "Who are you, again? Where do you fit in here?"

"I'm the wedding designer," he said.

Lord. A wedding designer.

"Go on, Edward. Please. Save me," Bella implored. "And then you can come to the wedding. Free food. All you can drink. Bridesmaids in silk stockings."

Oh, Bella. You're going to put it like that? Does the daughter of the groom wear silk stockings?

Because if she does ...

I'm there.

.

.

.