I am having way too much fun writing this. Like WAY too much fun.
Many thanks to my betas, SandandSirens and Momma Bear. I'm a lucky girl.
To my RL homies who read, I love love love you.
Playlist for this chapter is at www(dot)playlist(dot)com/lolapops
Also, I figured out that the email addresses aren't showing up in previous chapters but if I go update them it'll look like I updated, so I'm just leaving them. I'm sorry! Very distracting to have errors and I'm painfully aware of that.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Edward
After Christmas, things are different. I'm different.
I study constantly and hardly leave the apartment except to go to the gym, to training and to class. My friends give me shit for it, so I eventually faze them out.
I don't need them anyway. Fuck it.
I spend a lot of time alone.
That's the problem with a person making changes, it makes the people around them profoundly uncomfortable. The fact that I don't care seems to keep people from commenting, to my face, at least.
Emmett is surprised the first few times he returns from L.A. and the loft isn't trashed and the recycling isn't overflowing, but soon he starts to expect it.
I don't seek out random hookups anymore. I don't even attempt to actually date, because I don't know how, and none of the girls I meet hold any interest for me. This is unfortunate, because I haven't had sex since December. I haven't gone more than a few weeks without it since I was 16, and I haven't jerked off this much since then, either.
I also start to cook more, which makes Emmett ecstatic, although he complains that he's going to get fat, bouncing between Rose and I, who feed him constantly. I make roasts, racks of ribs and huge vats of chili. When I mentioned to Esme that I wanted to start cooking, she completely outfitted our kitchen, which previously housed a can opener and a microwave.
I even have an apron, which Emmett finds hysterical.
Months fly by, and as the summer approaches again I try to talk to Emmett about his plans with Rose for the summer. I'm too proud to ask about Bella, but I desperately want to know if she'll be at the lake. He throws me a bone every now and then, so I know she'll be there, but he's tight-lipped about her most of the time. It's been that way since the incident over the holidays. I gather that he's under strict instruction from Rose to keep his mouth shut, so I don't push him.
By the time school ends, I decide to pack my stuff and go with Emmett to the lake, even though my stomach churns when I think about facing all of them again; I have no idea what kind of shit storm I'm going to be walking into.
Bella's email catches me completely off guard. I spend the afternoon dissecting every sentence, seeing the truth in her words.
I want to talk to someone about it, so I grab my cell phone and start scrolling through the numbers. I scroll quickly at first, and then slower and slower, looking at each name, realizing that outside of Emmett, there isn't one person that I can call about this, or about anything, really. I scroll back at the A's and start deleting, carefully avoiding Bella's name.
When Emmett gets home I'm on the couch with my head in my hands, phone abandoned on the coffee table.
"Hey, brother!" he bellows from the entryway. He throws his bags down and walks over to collapse on the couch across from me. He's back from L.A. to pack and tie up loose ends before we leave for the summer.
When I look up, he's looking at me curiously.
"Bella sent me an email," I say quietly, gauging his reaction. His eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.
"For real? Damn. Well, I guess it's good to clear the air before you have to see her again," he reasons, shrugging his shoulders.
"She said she's probably going to be a bitch to me all summer."
"Ha! You've gotta love that girl," he says, shaking his head.
I pause and look up at him, speaking cautiously, "I think I do."
He snaps his head to glare at me, processing what I mean. I stare back, knowing my expression is sad and apologetic.
"Dude," he says slowly, drawing the syllable out.
This one word says volumes. It's not meant to reassure me, that much I know. He scrubs his hands over his face, sitting up and mirroring my stressed position. "I don't know what to say to that."
"I get that I'm probably totally fucking out of line, but I think she's giving me an opportunity to try."
"No, Edward, she's giving you an opportunity to not be a total dick, and possibly be friends. You can't just show up and tell her you love her now, after everything."
"I have to try, Em," I say quietly, but I don't feel hopeful at the prospect.
"You've changed. I'll give you that. I tell Rose about how different things are around here, but she's still not your biggest fan. I don't think she tells Bella anything anyway. But what you don't know is, Bella's different, too. I don't think you really know her anymore. Plus? She's been spending a lot of time with this guy Mike, who's family used to own our cabin," he says this gently, and I can tell he's been dreading delivering that news.
My reaction is instantaneous, and wrong.
"Oh, the Newton's, huh? Didn't they get foreclosed on? So what is he, some fucking charity case she took in?" My tone is biting.
Emmett shakes his head slowly, a warning on his face. "You have no right to have an opinion about that, brother. I kept my mouth shut through most of this, but you royally fucked up, and just because you happen to be unhappy, and just because you aren't getting what you want the second you want it, doesn't mean it's okay act like a bratty fucking kid. Mike is a great guy, and he's really good for her. They aren't dating or anything yet, but it seems like it's heading that way. Also, he's coming up for a week in June, so you're going to have to work on not being an asshole. She shouldn't have to deal with some childish crap from you on top of everything else."
Even as kids Emmett and I rarely argued, so I'm surprised at his harsh words and how they feel like a punch in the gut.
One of his best qualities is that he can get out what he has to say, and leave it alone. So when he gets up and claps his hand on my shoulder, I know it's over.
"I think you need to try to be her friend. Let the rest fall into place," he says kindly. "Now, what are you making for dinner, because I'm fucking starving."
To: bswan(at)
From: ecullen(at)
Date: June 3, 2009 4:34 AM
Bella,
I fully deserve any bitchy attitude that you want to throw my way, so don't hold back. As for winning you over, I'll do whatever it takes, including, but not limited to:
Foot massages
Cocktail mixing and delivery
Errand running (excludes the purchase of girly shit, unless I get extra points)
Meal preparation and service
I would buy you a car, but I know you got one for Christmas, so I'll have to think of some comparable gifts to bestow upon you.
All joking aside, thank you for replying. I hope we can be friends when you're ready.
Edward
I keep the tone of the email light, but my heart is heavy after my conversation with Emmett. Even though I take his advice, I want to ask her who the fuck Mike is, and why she's different now, or how she's different. I want to know what she's been doing, and I want to know if she thinks about me. I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling and going over it all in my head, knowing I'm a selfish, possessive fuck, but I don't know how to stop myself from feeling that way.
Bella
The day we're leaving, Mike comes to see us off. I'm excited to get there, but sad to leave him. He is his usual jovial self, telling us all that he'll miss us, but not getting overly sentimental, true to form. Rose and J usually have a service that comes to water the plants and check on the house, but Rose had the idea to have Mike do it instead, saying she'd rather have someone she knows in the house. He tried to refuse payment for it, but Rose can be quite persuasive, and cut him a large check, making sure he cashed it before we leave.
I show him where everything is and give him keys and the security code before we head to my room so I can pack a few last minute things. He sits on the bed watching me stuff clothes into a suitcase, smiling.
"I'm going to miss you," I say sadly. I zip the suitcase and sit down next to him, looking around. "I guess that's it."
"You're gonna have an amazing summer up there, and I'll be up in a few weeks. It'll fly by."
I nod, turning to look at him. His bright blue eyes are shining, and I know he means it. He's probably the most selfless person I've ever met.
I look at his mouth, and then meet his gaze. We lean in slowly, our lips coming together softly. I love his smell and the way he kisses. I back up, and his eyes search mine, looking for hesitation. Finding none, he pulls me onto his lap to straddle me, and we crash together, my hands running over his taut back muscles and broad shoulders. He's hard underneath me, and I'm wet and aching. I arch against him and bring my lips to his neck, biting lightly and making him buck beneath me.
When Edward's face flashes in my mind, I moan. I hope Mike thinks it's a moan of passion, but he stills immediately, sliding his hands from my ass to a safer spot on my back and leaning back to look at my face.
"You okay?" He asks, bringing a hand up to brush my hair back behind my ear.
I nod, knowing that I'm not going to say a fucking word about Edward right now. In fact, I'm actually irrationally annoyed at him for choosing to make an appearance at this particular moment, even though it's my own subconscious playing the mind games.
Emmett called me a few days ago to give me some…information about Edward, and between that and Edward's second email, he's been weighing heavily in my thoughts. I haven't told anyone about the call yet, needing some time to sort through Emmett's words.
"Bella," he kisses me again, softer, pulling me towards him, "I want you, but not if you're hung up on someone else."
It's like he's reading my mind. "I'm not. Well, I don't want to be," I admit, running my fingers over his jaw, feeling the texture of his stubble. "I want you too."
He smiles, and we resume our kissing. By the time Alice bursts in, we're practically dry humping. Okay, fine, we are dry humping.
"We're getting ready to leave, B," she yells behind her as she cruises down the hall. I can hear her calling for Rose, giggling.
Busted.
We take a breath, leaning back to look at each other.
"You know what I think?" Mike asks me, looking at me seriously.
"That I should stay here and we should get it on?" I ask back.
He laughs. "Nope, although that sounds pretty amazing right now," he exhales slowly, "I think we should take this couple of weeks to figure some shit out. I think you need to deal with Edward before we can move forward, and honestly I don't think you know what you want right now."
I try not to bristle, not liking when I'm told what to do or how I feel. It subsides quickly though, because I know that Mike wouldn't say something that he doesn't think is true, or that he doesn't think I need to hear.
"Okay," I concede, knowing he's right. Rose calls my name from the bottom of the stairs, and I can hear that she's trying to hold in laughter.
"I guess I've got to go. I wish I didn't. Is it any consolation that I wish I could stay here and keep doing this?" I say, smiling and looking down at where our bodies are pressed together.
He throws his head back in laughter, showing all of his white teeth.
"You know I'm down, girly," he says, pointing to his dick, which is straining against his jeans. He picks me up and sets me next to him on the bed, readjusting himself with a groan. He takes a few deliberate breaths, probably trying to calm himself down.
"Have I told you that you're the best?" I sigh, sinking into his side, his arm around me.
"Why, no, I don't think you have, but feel free to continue in that vein," he laughs.
He brings my suitcase out to our loaded cars and I give him a peck on the lips before I get in. We're driving up so we have vehicles for the summer, with Rose and I in one car, and Jasper and Alice in the other. Emmett and Edward fly in tomorrow and are renting a car to drive up. It'll probably be something enormous with spinning rims, if Emmett gets his choice.
Mike kisses my left cheek and then the right, and whispers in my ear, "You are amazing, Bella Swan. Don't let anybody make you feel like less."
One more hug and I get in the passenger seat of Rose's car. I watch Mike grow smaller as we pull away, feeling more than a twinge of remorse.
Rose grills me on the Mike make-out session for the first few hours in the car, until I get her talking about Emmett. The girl can be exhausting. I still don't tell her about Emmett's call, because I don't want to deal with for the 24 hours in the car. We stop at a hotel for the night, and spend it watching crap on Pay Per View and eating room service.
When we finally arrive late the next afternoon, we're all ecstatic. Not just to be out of the car, but because we're finally here again. It's in the high 70's. The boats are gassed and the cabins are stocked. I don't know where to start, so I unpack my clothes and change into a swimsuit and dress, mixing a drink before walking over to Rose's. She's got the grill going, and Jasper's playing The Walkmen, which is floating out the screened windows from inside the cabins.
Alice sits on Jasper's lap, gesturing animatedly while regaling us with tales about his erratic driving, which Rose and I can completely sympathize with. He rolls his eyes, but takes it all in good humor, looking at her like she's the only person in the world. If I didn't love them both so much it would make me sick.
Rose and I sit next to each other; she periodically gets up to refill drinks and check on the food, making sure we all have what we need.
We eat dinner on the deck by candlelight, dusk descending on our little heaven.
I lay on the thick carpet in my living room that night, listening to a playlist that Edward made me last summer while staring at the ceiling.
I haven't listened to it in almost a year.
The nostalgic tone of the songs, while slightly painful, doesn't diminish the greatness of the mix. Perhaps I'm even reveling a bit in the pain of it.
I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but I have this. I have these people that love me, and my family and friends. That's all I can count on. I resolve to enjoy every second of it.
The next morning, I'll see him for the first time in six months. I try to stop my heart from crashing in my chest, but my body betrays me.
I wake up early and hop in the shower. When I'm done I throw on a bikini, a green sundress and flip-flops. It's a little cool still, so I zip a hoodie over the dress and step onto my deck, closing the screen door carefully behind me so it won't make too much noise. The lake is quiet and still, buttery light brightening the tops of the trees. I can't remember the last time I saw sunrise.
"Hi." The voice startles me and I jump, my hand clutching my chest and my eyes wide. Edward is sprawled on one of the Adirondack chairs, looking like he just woke up.
"Holy shit," I gasp. "I kind of forgot how you like to sneak up on me. I wasn't expecting you to be here yet, and by here, I mean the lake … not my deck. That, I couldn't have predicted," I ramble breathlessly, watching him sit up and rub his eyes.
Resting his elbows on his knees, he looks back up at me, squinting a little, his expression soft.
"Well if you were expecting it, it wouldn't be fun, B," he chuckles quietly. I think my expression sours, because his smile falls and he explains why he's here. "We got in early. Emmett went to Rose's, obviously, and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to wait for you to wake up so I could talk to you," he says, looking down at his hands.
I take this in, trying to decide if I should invite him in for coffee. I'm annoyed that I acted flustered when I first came out. I wanted to be cool and collected.
I think of Mike, and my shoulders relax.
"I don't think Rose will be doing breakfast today. I'm sure she'll be busy, um, reuniting with Emmett." I blush when I realize I'm referring to sex this early in the morning, and this early in our first conversation in months. He appraises me, raising an eyebrow. I choose to ignore his expression. "So, do you want to come in for coffee?" I ask, a bit apprehensively.
He smiles and stands up, stretching. He looks good. Like reallygood. There isn't a hint of the exhaustion that I saw at Christmas. His skin has a little color, and his eyes are brighter than I remember, despite having just woken up. He catches me eyeing his taut stomach, and his smile widens.
I don't smile back, and he looks away before opening the door for me. We step inside awkwardly. He sits at the counter while I make coffee.
"Do you want toast or something? Cereal?" I ask, while I'm hunting for my favorite coffee mug.
"Cereal is hardly a nutritious breakfast," he teases. I roll my eyes at him and turn back to the cupboard. I'm not sure if I'm ready for teasing yet, but decide to avoid making this any more uncomfortable than it already is by pointing that out.
"Well, since you're such a stickler for the four basic food groups, why don't you cook me breakfast? I believe I'm entitled to that, per your email," I say, finding my mug and one for him and turning to set them on the counter in front of him.
I stop at the sad look on his face. There's none of the usual cockiness in his posture and expression.
I have trouble meeting his eyes for too long though, glancing down at the mugs or over his shoulder every few seconds.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he says softly. My eyes stop darting around and fix on his. I don't have to ask what he's sorry for.
My head nods almost imperceptibly, but he sees it, and allows a tiny smile. Again, I don't smile back.
After another long look, I clear my throat and try to ease the tension in the room. "Well, saying that is one thing, but showing it is another. Now, make me breakfast, because until I say otherwise, you're my bitch." He adopts his crooked grin, and I pour the coffee, deciding to go with the flow, but keep my distance.
He makes pancakes and bacon, and slices fruit. I watch, pretending to pay attention to what he's making, but really just admiring the way his big hands move on the knife. His forearms flex hypnotically as he slices, the sleeves of his worn sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows. He pauses with his knife halfway through a kiwi, bringing me back to the present. Looking up to his face, he's raising one eyebrow at me, the tiniest of smirks on his lips.
Shit.
"Sorry. What?" I ask, my voice high.
"Oh, I was just asking about your dad. How's he doing?" He begins slicing again and I force myself to look elsewhere.
"He's great. You'll see him in a few weeks." I remember Mike is coming around the same time and bite my lip, trying to decide if I should tell Edward about him. In the spirit of honesty, and because frankly, I want to rub it in his face a little, I take a deep breath and blurt it out.
"This guy Mike Newton is coming up the same week as my dad. His family used to own your cabin, and we all ran into each other, and now we hang out a lot."
I take a second to wonder why I can't form normal sentences right now, and watch his reaction.
His jaw visibly tenses, but his expression stays cool. "I look forward to meeting him."
I'm not sure what reaction I expected, but that wasn't it. I make a mental note to figure out how fucked up it is that I hoped he'd be really jealous.
Our conversation over breakfast flows effortlessly, once we get over the awkwardness. I ask him question after question about what he's been doing. His answers are straightforward, and it sounds like Emmett was right, he's made some major changes. I take him in, sensing his sincerity and enjoying his presence, while keeping space between us, literally and figuratively.
After we're done, it's almost 10, and he goes to his cabin to unpack while I head to the beach. No one is down there yet, so I put Talking Heads on in the boathouse and lay my towel on a lounge chair, taking off my dress and laying out in the sun. I get my journal out of my bag, and document the morning, trying to sort through how I'm feeling. I have an overwhelming need to stay in control of the situation with him, and hope my acknowledgement of his apology didn't make him think that I'm over what happened last summer.
Half an hour later he walks down the beach towards me, board shorts hanging on his hips. I try to stop myself from gawking, but it's fucking impossible to look away. I notice, smugly, that he's gawking right back at me, eyes sweeping my body, leaving a burn in their wake.
He stops in front of my chair, blocking my sun. I'm about to tell him just that, but before I can say anything he licks his lower lip, his face spreading into a slow smile.
"Hi."
I'm rendered speechless.
Thank you to everyone who puts this on their favorites and story alerts. I look at every one of your profiles when I get the emails that notify me. I actually do. I'm a total dork.
