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SunKing and Sarahsumbrella beta for me. I want to let everyone know that I've asked them to beta this quick and dirty in the interest in getting it posted as quickly as possible. This means I'm hoping to start updating more than once per week, but it also means that some of my errors they normally would catch might slip through the cracks. Please excuse these in the interest of more frequent updates and getting the story up faster, and know any mistakes you see are completely mine.
Thank you so much for your interest, reading, and reviewing!
CHAPTER 11: Flow
Bella allowed me continue to hold her hand as we walked into The Diner. It was right out in the open where everyone could see. Jane was hostess that night, and I saw her eyes drop to where our hands were joined. They shot back up to glance at Bella curiously before settling with bright speculation on me.
"Hi, Edward," she said, making no move to seat us.
"Hey." I waited for a beat and then prompted, "Can we get a table for two?"
I had to let go of Bella's hand so she could walk in front me into the dining area. She was allowing me some familiarity, and I couldn't resist putting my hand on the small of her back, right in that intimate little dip, that space reserved for friends. Close friends. Boyfriends, even.
I felt the thrill of connection through her jacket and clothes. She started a little just as the sensation shot from my fingertips up my arm. I would have been worried she didn't want my hand on her except that she leaned back into the contact, increasing the pressure just the slightest bit, and let out a soft sigh. Knowing I wasn't imagining it felt even better than the reaction itself.
"Good," I said in response to the sensation. I placed my mouth near her ears, purposefully making it look like I was kissing her. I would actually do it, but I didn't want her to jerk away from me in surprise and ruin the whole yeah, we're together, so back off thing I was going for. "You feel it, too."
We followed Jane into the dining area. I walked as close to her as I could manage without it seeming weird, casting surreptitious looks around to see who was there. I wanted people to see us. I wanted it to be obvious we were together and that she was with me – with me, as in with me. On a date.
Jane seated us in a small booth, and Bella commented about her making a rude gesture with her hair – her hair, for Chrissake. How do you make a gesture, rude or otherwise, with your hair? I figured it must be one of those things guys weren't meant to understand, because I had no fucking clue what she was talking about.
"So, what's your pleasure?" I asked, hoping to distract her, and then I wanted to bite my tongue. Fucking hell, don't talk about her pleasure, not in public. I didn't think she picked up on it, because she just kind of stared at me with a goofy little grin on her face that was really kind of cute. "Bella?"
"Ice cream sundae, of course," she said, her grin widening.
"Right." The ice cream sundaes at The Diner were pretty decent sized. We usually had to get a couple of them when I came with the guys, but I figured there would probably be enough with just her with me. Unless she wanted something completely bizarre – they had some pretty odd flavor combinations – it would be fun to share. I could always grab something to eat later.
I was relieved when she pointed at the hot fudge brownie sundae as it was one of my favorites, and we told the waiter what we wanted when he came to the table. There was a quiet lull in our conversation until he came back with our drinks. The silence stretched, not quite uncomfortable, but she had the oddest expression on her face. She kept looking up at me, her eyes jumping from various places on my face to somewhere lower, like my neck or chest, my hands, and then back at the table to her hands. I had no idea – once again – what she was thinking, so I went with what had been working and just asked.
"Did you want to change the order?" I joked, trying to lighten her expression. I desperately hoped that she wasn't regretting going out with me.
"Change the order? For the sundae?" She frowned, looking me in the eye now with curiosity. "No, why?"
"I don't know. You have a very determined look on your face." As long as she wasn't determined to dump me already… "You're not planning on hogging it all, are you?" I asked, referring to the ice cream.
Her eyes were alight with amusement as she smiled at me. The tight ball of tension in my belly uncoiled at the simple pleasure on her face. It wasn't the face of a girl who was getting ready to demand to be taken home.
"No," she laughed. "I don't want to puke all over your pretty car."
Puke in my car? I repressed a shudder. I didn't even like to have food in it – only in emergencies – and drinks only because they were unavoidable. My expression must have been pretty funny, because her chuckles deepened.
"Just kidding, Edward. I wouldn't waste perfectly good ice cream like that."
I let out a laugh, mostly in relief that she seemed to have relaxed and forgotten about whatever had been bothering her. The waiter came back with the big bowl of ice cream, fudge, and brownies, and we laughed and had fun while we ate. She staked out her part of the bowl and defended it against me, even when it became obvious she was full. She was teasing, and I once again realized how much I enjoyed spending time with a girl who could not only take my shit but give it back to me and then some. I was competitive by nature and loved challenges. Bella certainly was a challenge on many levels.
We talked about our families. I told her about growing up with Emmett and the crazy things we used to do and still did. I told her about how I wanted to play hockey professionally – that was pretty obvious – but also how I had a fascination with medicine. I loved to follow my dad around the hospital when he was working, and I talked about how I was considering a degree in the field. We discussed how difficult it would be, not only schedule and schoolwork wise, but also what it meant for my hockey career. It would take away from some of my prime playing years, and I talked about the conflict I had about it. I'd never really admitted the depths of my worries to anyone, not even my dad, but Bella was an amazing listener. I could tell she was really interested and in how I felt about the major decisions I had to make in the next year. If I hadn't already fallen for her, I certainly would have in the couple of hours we spent huddled in the booth at the Forks Diner.
She told me about her mom, who lived in Phoenix with her fiancé. They were planning on having a wedding ceremony at Thanksgiving. Her mom had divorced her dad only a few months after she'd been born, and only a few months after the two of them had been married. She talked about growing up with her mom and how she always felt responsible for her, like their parent-child relationship had been reversed. She told me about how they constantly moved around the country, never staying in one place, never content, until her dad put his foot down and demanded that Bella come live with him to offer her some stability. It really upset me that she had a childhood that was so unsettled, so unlike my pretty much perfect one. I couldn't imagine doing that to a kid, and it made me sad and angry that Bella might never have felt one hundred percent loved and cherished at any point in her life. She was so kind and genuine. No one deserved that, but especially not someone like her. She was very perceptive, and I wasn't very good at hiding strong emotion. She reached out to touch the back of one of my hands when I scowled down at them during her telling of her story.
"Hey," she said softly. "It's okay. My mom really is a good person. She was just so young when she had me. She met Phil a while ago, and she's really gotten her life together. I don't regret the time I spent with her. It makes me appreciate my dad, and even her, more now that I've grown up a little, too."
I turned my hand and wrapped my fingers around hers briefly. We smiled at each other in understanding, feeling better for having shared our stories, and feeling the connection between us solidify with our confessions. The conversation turned to lighter topics, books she'd read, books I wanted to read but didn't have the time to start, movies we'd seen, wanted to see, and our all-time favorites. She started quoting lines, challenging me, not yet knowing about my weird ability to hear music or words once and then have almost perfect recall of them. She claimed The Princess Bride as one of her all time favorites, and we traded lines back and forth, laughing, screwing around, and having a great time.
Being a Saturday night, there were a lot of people from school at The Diner, eating, hanging out, and gossiping. I was completely absorbed in being with Bella and in our conversation, but I was also aware of the speculative looks we were getting. I couldn't deny the satisfaction I felt. After a while, a few people started coming over to say hi and to see if they could get any information on what was going on between us. I'd seen enough of the mannerisms and heard too many of the not-so-subtle leading questions to know what was going on. I was polite but sent them on their way as soon as possible. I didn't want to waste a second of the time I had with Bella, especially since we were finally getting comfortable, relaxed, and really enjoying each other. After our waiter had made repeated stops at our table to see if he could move us along, I knew we couldn't stay in the booth much longer.
I didn't want to leave. I was having a great time just talking to her. I was so glad I'd finally gotten the balls to ask her out, and really, really glad she'd given me that yes. I reached across the table and squeezed her fingers. "Bella?"
"Yes?" She glanced down at our hands and squeezed back before lifting her eyes to mine with a happy smile. She was so beautiful.
"I'm glad you came with me tonight," I said sincerely, and her grin spread.
"I'm glad you asked me."
So was I. I settled back in my seat, finally feeling satisfied with the way things were progressing between us. I was also strangely excited when she said she'd be at my game the next night. I hadn't actively cared about someone being at my game since I had asked my dad to come watch me play when I was six.
We couldn't think of an excuse to linger more than we already had, and I felt an irrational surge of anxiety as I helped her on with her coat. I didn't want to take her home. It was still fairly early, and there was something else I usually did the night before a game, something I hadn't planned on doing since I was with Bella. I was actually considering sharing it with her, which I'd never done before. I knew I could trust her, I knew I could let her in, but I wasn't sure if she'd think it was weird or not.
I considered how to bring it up without sounding completely odd as I paid the bill and walked out into the parking lot, my hand resting casually on her waist. I hoped that the novelty, the wonder of touching her, would never fade. She even let me take her hand again as we made our way slowly to the car. It was dark and quiet in the small lot, and all I wanted to do was pull her against me and hold her. Okay, and maybe kiss her. I wanted to kiss her quite badly. Hold her and kiss her. Yeah.
I stood braced in the open door of the car after making sure she was seated inside, fighting the urge I had to just lean down the few inches between us and place my mouth on hers – gently, softly. It didn't have to be a wild scorcher; I just wanted that familiarity, the implied and allowed intimacy at this point in our relationship. I had a feeling the wild scorchers would come in due time. There was way too much tension between us to make me think otherwise. She didn't help my resolve when she turned her face up to me, her eyes widening slightly when she realized I was hovering over her and then focusing unerringly on my mouth. Even in the growing darkness of the parking lot, I could see the color wash across her features. That didn't help my resolve, either.
"You're blushing," I said. It came out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking my thoughts out loud. I reached out and let the tip of my finger trace her rounded cheek. Her skin was so soft and felt so good. My hand automatically opened to gently caress the side of her face. I had to shift my stance slightly and will my twitching erection to die a quick death; otherwise she'd really be getting an eyeful. "You have no idea what that does to me."
She lifted her chin in an unmistakable, welcoming gesture. I felt as though there was an invisible cable reeling me in and toward her mouth. She let out a soft sound. I watched her carefully but saw nothing but breathless anticipation on her face. Her eyes went back to my mouth, and she licked her lips quickly, reflexively. There was nothing on earth that could stop me from kissing her – not my better judgment, not caution, not uncertainty. Not when she so obviously wanted me to kiss her. God, I was going to kiss Bella, finally, after all these months of wanting and wishing and just thinking about her all the time. My breath caught in my chest. It was a tight ache, but one that felt good. I savored the anticipation and the idea that one of my fantasies was about to be fulfilled. She looked absolutely amazing in my car, waiting for my kiss, wanting my kiss. I could hardly believe it was finally happening. I was so close her scent filled my head, the warmth of her skin sending heat flaring through mine, and still she gave no sign of protest. I ducked a little more, until only the slightest fraction separated us. I wanted to nuzzle into her, feel her soft, fragrant skin before I kissed her, slow, soft, and sweet…
The bright flare of headlights from a car pulling into a spot across from us seared into my brain, causing a quick flash of discomfort and then a sharp shock of surprise that caused me to jerk back in reflex. I rapped my head hard on the open car door, forgetting it was there. I felt a sting of pain and then a wave of disappointment shoot through me. The disappointment hurt worse. I glanced quickly at Bella to make sure she was okay, and that I hadn't embarrassed her with my actions. She looked fine, the color seeping across her cheekbones again, and she was back to looking at my mouth with obvious disappointment. No damage done, either physically or emotionally – thank God.
She finally met my eyes, and I gave her an apologetic shrug. I had no idea what to say. What do you say after something like that? She stared at me for a second and then smiled ruefully in acknowledgement of the awkward and frustrating situation. I grabbed the stupid car door – the back of my head was still throbbing slightly from hitting it – and shut it carefully. I was breathing heavily in annoyance and disappointment. I'd been so close to kissing her!
I'd have to start over with the whole kiss approach. I just wanted to get it over with, to be done with the anxiety and uncertainty, but on the other hand, I wanted it to be right. I didn't think I could handle it if she was disappointed in our first kiss – or any of our kisses, to be honest. I heaved a sigh as I got in behind the wheel. I was getting so ahead of myself, thinking of future kisses. Let's just get the first one right, jackass, I chastised myself.
"Bella." I turned to her – whether to apologize or to ask her if I could try again, I had no fucking idea – but the look on her face stopped me cold. She looked upset. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer, staring at her hands twisting nervously in her lap. My stomach dropped. Shit. Fuck. I shouldn't have tried to kiss her, not so soon. This was the first time we'd been out, even though we'd been hanging together for the past couple of months. It was the first time we'd done anything with romantic connotations, and there I was, pushing her and practically jumping all over her.
"Look," I said quietly, wanting to reach out and touch her, but restraining myself with an irritated internal rebuke. Being impulsive was what had upset her in the first place. I started to apologize, but she spun around in her seat. "I'm sorry – "
"No!" she said forcefully, her expression fierce, and my voice broke off in shock. I'd never seen her look like that, and it was glorious. I was so fucking turned on, completely and instantly. Fierce Bella was just the stuff of fantasies.
"No," she said more normally, but I was still reeling a little from that glimpse of the assertiveness in her. Oh, boy. "Don't be sorry, Edward. I'm sorry...that stupid car...I wish..."
She huffed in frustration, and my heart soared. She really had wanted me to kiss her and was just as bummed as I was when we were so unexpectedly interrupted. Without thought, I reached out and patted her leg, her thigh, just where the swell started above her knee. The heat and softness of the intimate touch sent a shockwave through my fingers and jangled up my arm. I withdrew my hand reluctantly, worried I'd overstepped again, but damn, that lingering prickle felt amazing.
"I know, right? Bad time, bad place." I was just glad she felt the same way I did. It was my fault, trying to kiss her for the first time in a parking lot, of all places. What had I been thinking? I hadn't apparently, and that's what I got for not having a plan in place to make it perfect.
"We can always try for a better time and place, though, right?"
My head whipped around at the softly spoken words, and I stared at her. She was looking down at her lap again, biting her lip, but her words settled in my head and in my heart. I couldn't doubt she wanted what I wanted, that she felt what I felt. Bella liked me, and she wanted to go out with me. She wanted me to kiss her. Now that I was sure she wanted it, too, nothing could stop me from making it happen. I was an amazing planner. Silence stretched between us for a few long seconds, but I waited until she looked up at me. I wanted to be sure she understood I returned her feeling and sentiment tenfold.
"I'll keep that in mind, Bella," I said with a smile when she finally met my gaze, hoping to set her at ease and reassure her at the same time. She let out an amused chuckle. She so got me.
I started the car, but I knew I didn't want to take her home. My thoughts went back to what I usually did the night before a game – it was such a part of what I was. I had an inexplicable urge to share it with her. I'd never considered opening myself up like that to anybody, let alone a girl. It made me realize how different Bella was and how different I felt about her.
"Bella, I have something I need to do tonight." I took a deep breath and made that leap. If she accepted, I knew there would be no going back, not on my part, and that was perfectly fine with me. "Do you...that is, would you like to go with me, or should I drop you off at home?"
"I'd like to go with you, if you don't mind," she said without hesitation.
Of course I didn't mind, and I told her so. I pulled out of the lot and started for the arena, and after a moment she asked, "Where are we going?"
Man, how could I tell her what a big deal it was to me? How I'd never, in all the time I'd been playing hockey – my whole life – asked anyone to share such an important pre-game ritual? There was no way to explain it properly, so in the end I simply said, "I've got to stop by the arena for a few."
"The arena?"
"The ice rink," I told her, feeling a little dumb. If I couldn't bring myself to explain, would she think I was a total freak? "Not for long. It's just something I do, something I have to do, the night before a game. Habit, I guess, or superstition. It won't take too long, I promise." Yeah, that was clear as mud. I was a freak. "You'll probably be bored out of your mind," I added, realizing too late that it was true.
"That's okay," she said blithely. "I won't be bored if I'm with you."
I glanced at her sharply, thrilled, wondering if she really meant it. She was blushing again, but she met my eyes with a shy smile before glancing away self-consciously. Oh, she meant it. And when she started asking questions about hockey, I knew for certain there was something special going on between us. It was kind of like when I'd actually read Wuthering Heights just because I'd seen the dog-eared copy in her book bag a few weeks ago. She listened intently and with honest interest, asking more questions and trying to understand the concept and rules of the game, which I knew could be somewhat confusing. She asked me how long I'd been playing, which brought us back to a discussion of our childhood.
Her questions changed to those about my family, growing up with a brother, and, even though she tried to hide it, her interest in growing up with two parents who were madly, and sometimes embarrassingly, in love with one another. I realized the dynamic – the annoyance, irritation, pride, and above all, unconditional love – was something she was curious about and yearned for. It made me kind of sad, as it had in The Diner when we talked about our families. It wasn't the first time, and I was sure it wouldn't be the last, that I realized how lucky I was to have my family. I wanted to sweep her up and hold her close, give her the love she wanted but didn't know how to ask for. This girl had me so wrapped around her finger. I'd give her anything she wanted, and I wanted to be everything she needed.
