Running for Home
Chapter 11: "You Never Knew?"

*.*.*

Bella

I lounge on Edward's couch on Friday morning and read one of his books. I'm still wearing the pajamas he bought me yesterday. They are so soft that I can't bring myself to put real clothes on yet. Wearing them brings a smile to my face even if I do feel a little guilty about accepting them. Besides, I'm sick and tired of wearing jeans. I haven't worn lounge clothes in over a week, and it feels good to wake up in the morning and not have to get dressed right away.

I'm also glad he picked out a bathrobe for me. It's super cozy, and I would be chilly in the tank top alone. Not to mention I'm not wearing a bra right now, and the robe gives me a little more coverage than the thin cotton.

The matching shorts are another story. They are very… short. I tried them on last night but opted to wear the pants instead. I think I'll be okay under the covers, but I'm not ready to prance around wearing them in front of Edward. I might as well just show him my underwear which I kind of already did, twice, but those times weren't really on purpose.

Edward moseys into the living room after taking a shower. His hair is still damp, and as he sits down, I catch a whiff of him. He smells clean and manly. The scent is just strong enough to reach me at the opposite end of the couch. It makes me want to lean closer and breath him in.

My eyes catch a droplet of water running down the back of his neck. I am overwhelmed with the urge to wipe it away. His hair is temporarily tamed from the weight of the water, and my fingers twitch to ruffle it up so it sticks out in every direction the way it normally does when it's dry.

Actually, I just want to touch him. It doesn't matter where.

"How do you feel about leaving tomorrow morning?" Edward breaks the silence with a question.

"I'm ready if you are," I tell him.

"I think I am," he replies. "I looked at the map this morning. I think we should aim for five days, four nights. It's roughly eight hours of driving per day, so nothing too intense. Of course, if you want to be on the road more or less, let me know."

I appreciate him giving me a say in the matter, but I don't want to dictate how long he drives. Five days sounds good; it's long enough so it won't wear him down but hopefully short enough so he doesn't have extra time to convince himself not to go. "Whatever you want to do is fine. I don't want you to get worn out. I can drive, too, if you'd like."

"Be careful," he cautions playfully with a smirk. "I might just take you up on that offer."

*.*.*

It's mid-afternoon by the time I peel myself from the couch. It felt good to do nothing all morning. Not that I've done much of anything in the past week, but it was nice not to be in a car, go shopping, or have an awkward phone conversation.

After thinking about phone conversations I decide to call Alice, because technically, I haven't spoken to her since I left. At least I know she won't spaz out on me, be angry, or cry. I bring Edward's cell phone outside so I can have some privacy before dialing Alice's number.

"Bella?" she answers.

"How'd you know?" I ask in confusion.

"Ever hear of Caller ID?" Her voice is laced with sarcasm. "This isn't the first time I've received a call from this number you know."

"Oh, right." Yep, I feel dumb.

"Soooooo, you're still with Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor, obviously. How is that going? By the way, I'm extremely pissed off 'cause you didn't call me back once in the past week, not even after I talked to your little boyfriend."

Alice doesn't sound pissed off, but if she were, I wouldn't be able to tell from her voice alone. She always sounds cheerful. I wish I could see her face to know if she's serious.

"He's not my boyfriend, Alice," I say in exasperation. The visual of it makes me blush regardless. It's not the first time the thought of dating Edward has crossed my mind. Now that I know he views me as more than just some kid, I wonder what it would be like to have him as my boyfriend.

"Uh-huh. Spill it, Swan. What's his name? Where'd you meet him? What does he look like? What happened with Jake? Where the hell are you?"

She continues bombarding me with questions until she runs out of breath. I give her a quick summary of everything I've been through with Edward in the past week. I tell her about where we've been and what we've done but leave out the personal things he's told me. We talk about my fight with Jake and the subsequent breakup. I go into great detail telling her about my feelings for Edward as well as Couchgate and how he nursed my hangover throughout the next day. It's nice being able to have a heart-to-heart with someone who understands me and knows just what to say to make me feel better.

"I really think you should do something about it, Bella," she tells me. "Boys are dumb. If you wait for him to make the next move you'll be waiting till you're old and grey. You are young, beautiful, loving, smart… what's not to love? Gather some courage and seduce him!"

I contemplate what she says. I've never considered trying to initiate something with Edward. I'm not sure I have it in me. I don't even have a clue of what to do first. He would probably just laugh at my juvenile attempt at seduction. If he rejects me, I'm not sure how I will get over it, especially if I have to look at his beautiful face every day knowing he doesn't want me.

The conversation goes well until Alice starts talking about fate. She rambles on about how Edward and I must be meant to be together because of the circumstances that lead us to one another – moving to Washington instead Florida, dating Jake, going to college in Jacksonville, Jake's proposal last weekend, leaving my cell phone behind, walking to the gas station while Edward was there…

I want to tell Alice that her theory about fate is ridiculous, but the irrational part of my brain is telling me to zip it and take what she's saying to heart. I'm grasping for anything that might give me hope concerning this doomed relationship.

"Enough about me," I say when I can't deal with talking about it any longer. "How are you? Are your classes out yet?"

"Yes!" she exclaims. "I took my last final this week. Thank God."

"I might be in Forks for a while this summer. Any plans on coming home?" I ask hopefully.

"Actually, I was going to fly back this weekend, but there's an art festival here I want to attend. Hopefully I'll be home sometime in the next two weeks. I can't wait to see the new house!"

"You haven't seen it yet?" Alice's parents sold their house right after we graduated from high school last spring. They moved after Thanksgiving. I knew Alice hadn't gone home for Christmas, but I assumed she had seen it at some point during the buying process.

"Nope. I've seen pictures, but I've never been inside. You'll have to stay with me for a few days. That is… if you can kick Edward out of your pants," she giggles.

"Very funny, Alice."

"It's just a matter of time, Bella."

"Shut up."

"You looooove him, you want to kiiiiiiss him," she sings.

"Stop it! How are your parents doing, anyway? I haven't seen them in forever." When it comes to Alice it's all about distracting and deflecting.

"They are doing well," she bubbles. "My mom asks about you all the time. She'll be so excited if you decide to visit."

"Of course I will," I assure her. "Give me your new address. Maybe Edward will drop me off."

"Oh, Edward!" she moans in exaggeration.

"Alice!"

Alice's laughter fills the phone. "Believe it or not, I don't know the address. I wrote it down somewhere…" Her voice fades and I hear papers shuffling around. "I have no idea where I put it. I'll have to call you back when I get back home."

"That's fine," I tell her. "How are things with you and Jasper?"

"Oh, I miss him so much," she says sadly. "He's back in Forks for the summer, but he said he'll come with me to New York if I go back early!"

"Cool. And Emmett and Rose, how are they?"

"Yuck," Alice complains. "I hope they get all that kissy, touchy, feely bullshit out of their systems before I get home. You remember what they were like last summer, don't you? I do not want to deal with that again."

I laugh at the memory. When Emmett and Rose came home last summer, after being separated during their first year of college, they didn't leave his bedroom for what felt like weeks. Then, when they started socializing again, every time we looked away they would start groping each other. We couldn't even go out in public without them taking joint trips to the bathroom, disappearing behind a building, or going back to the car because they "forgot something."

"Maybe it's good that you're not flying back this weekend," I tell her.

"No. Kidding."

*.*.*

I shower before putting on a new set of clothes. I like having something different to wear even if everything is stiff from being new. I'll throw a load of laundry in the washer tonight. Maybe Edward will let me do his as well. It can be my way of saying thanks.

And a way to secretly steal a shirt that still smells like him.

I am startled by a knock on the bathroom door. I crack it open slowly. My heart speeds up in my chest when Edward smiles at me.

"Do you have any more of the lotion you bought?" he asks bashfully.

"Sure, come in." I open the door only wide enough for him enter. He hesitates before slipping inside. I quickly shut the door behind him and he looks at me questioningly. "I don't like to let the heat out," I explain.

He chuckles at me. I dig the lotion out of my bag and hand it to him. He flips the cap open and smells it cautiously.

"It's unscented," I tell him.

"Good. I don't want to smell all girly," he jokes.

"You know, you're lucky I'm even letting you use it." I can't pass up the opportunity to give Edward a hard time.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because you teased me for needing it in the first place," I chide.

"That's different," he argues. "We practically swam our way through Florida. They shouldn't even sell lotion there."

"Doesn't matter." I frown up at him. "It was mean of you. Now I have a complex. I'll never be able to use lotion again."

Edward pouts, looking adorable as he exaggeratedly puffs out his bottom lip. He offers the lotion back to me, but before I can take it he snatches it out of my reach. "Ha!" he exclaims and squirts an excessive amount of lotion up the length of both his arms.

I swing at him playfully, but he evades me by leaning back. I pull the towel from my head and start to roll it up. "Oh, you're gonna get it," I threaten.

Edward cocks an eyebrow and looks at me in amusement while he rubs the lotion into his arms. "You are going to towel whip me?" he asks arrogantly.

I slink toward him slowly. Getting in striking position, I twist up the towel tightly. Edward smirks at me, taunting me. I softly whip it backhand at him and yank back as hard as I can before it makes contact with him.

A loud crack echoes through the bathroom.

"Oh, shit!" he shouts.

Edward bolts toward the door as I re-twist the towel. He paws frantically at the handle but his hands are too coated with lotion to get a grip on it. I back up to get enough space between us and pull my arm back to strike again.

He turns his head in time to see me wind up. A high-pitched, girlish scream escapes him, and I giggle as I whip the towel a second time. The bathroom door pops open and he scrambles out through it, but not before the towel snaps loudly as it makes contact with his behind. He hollers loudly as he stumbles into the bedroom.

I fall down in an uncontrollable fit of hysterics and crawl out of the bathroom. Edward is pacing in his bedroom as he applies pressure to the point of contact with his fingertips.

"Fuck, that's stingy," he says through his teeth, his face contorted into a grimace.

"Are you going to live?" I giggle.

"You'd better fucking hope so. Fuck, that was through denim and everything!"

"You should see what I can do to bare skin. Just don't piss me off when you're not wearing pants," I advise him.

"Hmph," he groans. "I'll keep that in mind. Fuck, that's going to leave a mark."

"Let me see," I request as I stand up and approach him, still giggling.

"No way! I'm not taking my pants off anywhere near you, devil woman," he says while backing away.

"Oh, come on, Edward. I want to see if I've marked you," I tease.

His eyes shift quickly around the room. "Where's the towel?" he asks accusingly.

"In the bathroom. Now come on, lemme see."

I honestly don't expect him to show me, so it takes me completely by surprise when Edward reaches down and pops the top button of his jeans open. He saunters toward me as he slowly unbuttons the rest of his fly. My eyes are glued to his crotch, and I blush furiously when the black material of his briefs comes into view. He stops in front of me and turns around. He pulls his pants down slightly on the side where the towel hit him. I gingerly pinch the hem of his shirt, too flustered to make any sort of bold move, and peak underneath.

There is a little pink welt forming right below where the waistband of his pants normally falls. Without thinking, I reach out and run my thumb across it, feeling the circular ridge of his inflamed skin. When I realize I am touching Edward's butt I quickly pull my hand away as my head snaps up to look at him.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologize—for hurting him, for leaving a mark, for demanding he show it to me, for assuming it was okay to touch him.

"I like it," he breathes. His response is as vague as my apology. Edward is looking down at me with a peculiar expression on his face. His eyes are heavy, and his lips are parted slightly. My breath catches as he slowly licks his lips. I imagine what they would feel like pressed against mine. I bet they are soft and warm and delicious.

The hope of Edward kissing me quickly fades as he regains his composure. He squints and shakes his head slightly before rebuttoning his pants. I thought we had a connection, but I guess it was just wishful thinking. Maybe Alice is right about needing to seduce him.

"We should probably go soon." He quickly composes himself. "I want to show you some of the city before dinner."

*.*.*

Edward drives us downtown. He wants to take me to Giordano's for dinner because their Chicago style pizza is supposedly famous. There's actually a restaurant down the street from his house, but he insists on showing me the city even if it's only for a little while.

"I want to show you a little bit of everything Chicago has to offer just in case, you know, you want to come back someday," he says with uncertainty as he quickly peeks at me before returning his eyes to the road. Does he doubt I want to come back? If anything, I worry Edward will tire of having me around.

He shows me Navy Pier, Soldier Field, and points out all the famous skyscrapers. He attempts to tell me about The Great Chicago Fire and the history of the buildings but keeps backtracking and getting his facts all mixed up.

"If you come back while it's still nice I'll take you on a boat tour. It's really informative. They give you a lot of facts, but it's really cool because, you know, you're on a boat." Edward's face lights up as he tells me about one of the few times his sister looked after him for a day. They did a boat tour and went to the Field Museum before spending the evening at Navy Pier. He is excited as he talks about the memory and I wonder what their relationship is like now.

We park in a lot a few blocks away from Giordano's. The late-afternoon sun is still shining, and there's not a cloud in the sky. The warmth of the brings a smile to my face.

"What the fuck?" Edward shouts from his side of the car.

My head turns in his direction. He is looking down with a horrified expression on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask worriedly.

"What—what's—I'm… what the fuck, Bella?"

I dash to his side of the car. Edward is holding his arms out and frowning, but I have no idea what's wrong with him.

"Why the fuck…" he trails off.

"What?" I ask in frustration.

"I'm fucking sparkling!" he bellows angrily.

I take a closer look at his arms. Sure enough, in the direct sunlight he is, in fact, sparkling. I giggle, and he gives me a dirty look. I try unsuccessfully to choke back my laughter.

"Why didn't you tell me it was sparkly lotion? I look like a fucking pansy!"

"It's not sparkly, Edward, it's shimmery." I snicker. "Honestly, I didn't even think about it at the time. Maybe you should have read the bottle."

"Oh, you're gonna get it now," he warns as he stalks toward me in a predatory manner.

Squealing loudly, I turn to run away from him, but his arms wrap around my waist, and he lifts me off the ground before I can even take two steps. He swings me around and pushes me against the side of his car. I laugh as he wipes his arms on me in an attempt to remove the remnants of the lotion, and he overpowers me as I try to squirm away.

Soon, we are both laughing hysterically. I swat at him, trying to make him stop. Edward grabs my wrists and pins them back on the roof of the car. I bring my knee up to him threateningly.

"Oh, no you don't," he mutters. He presses his body flush against mine, rendering me completely immobile.

The pressure and heat from his body causes excitement to stir in my stomach. We are both breathing heavily from the struggle. His face is close to mine, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. His smile falters, and if I didn't know better, I'd say his eyes are filled with lust. It's probably more wishful thinking on my part, but I'm fairly certain I'm not imagining the way Edward is slowly leaning in toward me.

For the briefest of moments I am under the impression he is going to kiss me.

Again.

Edward swallows thickly and releases my arms before pushing away from the car. He clears his throat and looks away. "We should go eat," he murmurs. I nod. Edward turns away from me and walks in the direction of the restaurant. I follow behind him feeling slightly rejected.

Things start out awkward at dinner, but it doesn't take long before we slip back into our usual selves. The pizza is good. I had doubts when I first saw it, but Edward was right when he told me it would be the best pizza I'd ever eat. However, it doesn't taste as good as being with Edward feels.

Once we leave the restaurant we aren't ready to go home. I ask Edward if he wants to walk me around the city. He happily obliges. He even wraps his arm around me when an exceptionally chilly wind whips down the street. My heart soars and I feel like I'm in heaven.

The sun is setting when we arrive back at the car. I blush at the memory of our faux altercation before dinner. Edward smirks at me as he gets in the car, and I wonder if he is thinking about it as well.

As we leave the city I sigh quietly. I don't know if I'll come back soon, but if I do, I hope I'll be here with Edward. There's no way of knowing where the next leg of our journey will lead us. What I do know is, wherever I end up, I want to be with him at the end.

Edward seems nervous on the drive back to his house. His knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. His head appears to bob to music which would be perfectly acceptable if we weren't sitting in complete silence. Cracking the window open, he leans into the breeze. I can hear his breathing quicken. He removes one hand from the steering wheel and tugs it roughly through his hair.

I'm not sure why he is acting so strange. I thought everything went well today. Aside from… Cargate anyway, but we got past that. He seemed all right during dinner and after when we walked.

"Are you all right?" I ask in concern.

"I'm fine," he answers sternly.

I don't believe him for a moment. I feel slightly hypocritical right now. I always tell people I'm fine and in return they always tell me I'm not. It really bugs the crap out of me. But if I weren't fine, I would probably say I was, which I'm convinced is what Edward is doing right now.

He pulls over to the side of the road and stops the car. I watch him curiously as he stares intently out the windshield with a frown on his face. His jaw is clenched, and his hand flexes on the steering wheel. I notice he does that a lot with his hands, but I'm not entirely sure why. My best guess is that he's uncomfortable or nervous about something. I want to wrap my arms around him and let him squeeze me so he can take his worry out on my body instead of using the wheel—just like he's done in bed for the past two nights.

If I've learned anything about Edward this past week, it's that he doesn't talk until he's ready. Instead of asking him what's wrong, I reach over and pull his hand off the wheel. He immediately entwines his fingers with mine, and after a few moments he starts rhythmically squeezing my hand. I really like holding hands with him. I wish I had the courage to take his hand out of the blue instead of only when he's stressing out.

"There's somewhere I have to go," he finally says. "Will you come with me?" His voice is confident, but as he looks at me, his expression is anything but. His eyes are pleading as if he actually thinks I would turn him down.

"I could never say no to you, Edward," I say reassuringly.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he says under his breath.

Edward drops my hand and puts the car in gear. Instead of continuing in the direction we were heading, he makes a U-turn and heads back toward the city. I watch him carefully as he drives. He looks just as unsettled as he did before. I'm dying to ask him where we're going, but I assume I'll find out soon enough. It's not long before we pull up to a cemetery. I look at Edward, expecting him to still look anxious, but he doesn't. He is completely still. His gaze is fixed in my direction, almost as if he's looking through me. He looks empty, hollow, like he has completely shut down. It reminds me of the morning after his talk with Jane, and my body shivers unintentionally.

"You don't have to come with me." His voice is flat.

"I want to," I insist.

"I missed the funeral."

"Your mother's?"

He frowns and nods once, still not focusing on me. "I need to say goodbye." We sit there in silence for a few moments. Edward makes no move to exit the car. He appears to be deeply in thought.

"Are you ready?" I ask.

Edward finally focuses on me, and I give him an encouraging smile. He says nothing as he opens the door and slowly climbs out. I hop out quickly and meet him on the driver's side. I want to take his hand again, but before I can make a move for it, he shoves them both in his pockets and starts walking. We walk side-by-side in silence, winding through the cemetery paths, until Edward stops before a cluster of three plots.

Confusion sets in as I look at the three headstones. I recognize the names on the first two—one reads "Edward Masen," the other "Bethany Masen"—but I am thrown by the third. It's obvious by the fresh patch of sod that it's a recent addition. Very recent. I don't recognize the name, but the headstone is engraved with "Beloved Daughter & Sister."

"Edward." My voice comes out quiet and shaky. "Who is this?"

He doesn't answer, and by the sound of his breathing, I can tell he's trying to hold himself together. I don't press him further. He doesn't need to tell me anyway.

"Your sister," I whisper knowingly.

We stand in silence for what feels like an eternity. The light from the setting sun slowly fades, and I shiver from the cool night breeze. Edward is deep in thought, but I don't want to interrupt him. I will stand here with him all night if it's what he needs.

I can't imagine what Edward is feeling right now. It hadn't sounded like he was close to his adoptive parents, but other than his sister, he hadn't mentioned any other family. His father has been gone for a while, but for him to lose both his mother and sister within a matter of months must have been hard. His hands are still shoved in his pockets. I pull on one of his wrists, and he allows me to wrap both of my hands around his.

Edward clears his throat. "She wasn't really my sister," he states.

"Of course not," I acknowledge. "You were adopted; she wasn't."

A bitter laugh erupts from his chest. "No, you don't understand. She wasn't my sister."

I look at him expectantly and wait for him to continue.

"She was my mother."