Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for sorting out my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track and to Iamamy for being wonderfully supportive.
Edward POV
Walking quickly down the corridor towards the room we were shooting in tonight, I wondered about those words I had just said. "I'm ready for you, Bella." There had been no mistaking the momentary gleam in her eye as I had spoken, the widening of her eyes, the dilation of her pupils, a slight parting of her lips and... and this is going to sound crazy... a missed heartbeat. How can I possibly think that I am so attuned to someone's heartbeat that I know when it skips? I don't have super hearing or anything, but I just felt it. I think.
What I didn't know was why I had said that.
Because in no way, shape, or form was I ready for her.
She had recovered herself, quicker than me to be honest, and stepped forward to reach up and adjust my tie, keeping her eyes lowered frustratingly from mine, fixed on the tie. But when she had tweaked the tie to her satisfaction, she stepped back again and raised her eyes to mine. I was beginning to really like it when she did that, and this time, the skipped heartbeat was mine.
How does she do that to me?
Blushing slightly and biting momentarily on her lower lip as her brow creased, she ran her eyes up and down me before clearing her face of expression and stepping back.
"You're ready to go, I think," she had said in that husky kind of voice that she sometimes has, wearing a ghost of a smile on her face. I think my knees went weak.
What the fuck, Masen? Are you a girl now?
I hadn't been expecting that slight smile, and even that small flicker of friendliness sent shivers down my spine. I gave her a tentative smile in return, plunged my hands into my trouser pockets, and even shuffled my feet a bit, not knowing quite what else to say or do.
Hell, what am I, twelve?
"Let's go then," she said, and I was again weirdly torn between staying with her longer and getting the hell out of there. Thank fuck common sense prevailed. I turned awkwardly and made my way out of the room, walking quickly down the corridor to put some space between us. I felt that familiar and yet strange burning sensation on my back again as I walked. Weird.
As I entered the room set up for the evening's scenes, the burning on my skin receded, and I tried hard to pull my mind away from Bella and onto the job. Looking round, it was hard for a moment to see where exactly I was going to be needed. The room was crammed full of equipment and people. I hesitated, assessing the position of the lights and reflectors, and then made my way around all the equipment to the slightly clearer area waiting for me.
"Edward, great," Jason said, seeing me approach. "Let's have a quick run through and see if we can get this finished up quickly tonight."
I nodded and got to work.
.
Bella POV
I was going to write to Gucci and personally thank them. Edward looked devastatingly stunning in his made-to-order midnight navy 'Marseille' grosgrain, peak lapel, one button tuxedo with custom white dress-shirt and midnight navy tie.
Oh dear God, this man is sex on legs.
A quick tweak of his tie, check him over...
Keep it together, keep it professional.
...and I was finished. He looked, of course, perfect. "You're ready to go, I think." Was all I could manage. For which I was rewarded with a smile from him.
Oh dear God, thank you.
He turned and walked out of the room ahead of me as we made our way down to the set to begin work, his shoulders slightly hunched, hands in pockets, long legs carrying him quickly.
Don't look at his arse, don't look at his arse.
Oh all right then, look.
So I did.
.
Edward POV
The run-throughs went quickly, the repositioning and final checks accomplished without any problems. In a few minutes we would start to shoot these couple of scenes and then, when we were finished, we could all relax for the rest of the evening or, in my case, collapse into bed in exhaustion. Thank God.
The problem though was that in the short space of time that we had all been crammed into this room, the temperature had started to rise. Lights, cameras, computers and electronics tended to do that in a small space. In the brief lull between run through and take, everyone began to take off layers of clothing until you'd think we were in Miami, Florida rather than Sudbury, England. I couldn't do that though, strip off that is, and I had to look coolly unaffected. Pity I couldn't get my sweat glands to comply.
Christ, it's hot. What I wouldn't give to be back outside in the gardens now.
I watched as Pete roughly unbuttoned his flannel shirt and wafted it open, creating a breeze over his T-shirt-covered body. Lucky bastard. I couldn't wait to take off this jacket.
The script called for Liam to look 'darkly commanding' tonight, and I was dressed in a superbly tailored tux that was so dark blue it could be black. When I'd tried it on the day before, I'd had to look twice to check what colour it was. Wearing it now, I decided I actually really liked it and wouldn't mind ordering one of my own when this shoot was finished. I snorted to myself... fuck, that sounded so Film Star! But I liked the idea of wearing something a little bit different at the next red carpet event I had to go to.
I usually never really took any notice of what I was wearing, but Bella's role and her obvious interest made me take more notice this evening. Well, all day to be honest. I thought about how uncomfortable those jeans had become earlier -and the reason why- and firmly brought my thoughts back to the here and now.
Get it together, Masen. Work to do here.
I shoved my hands in the trouser pockets and shrugged my shoulders a bit. This tux; the cut really was amazing, and it fit really well, but of course it had been tailored for me, so it should do. It was a perk of the job that I decided I could start to really enjoy, though I would walk over hot coals before I admitted something like that to Alice. I let her choose all my stuff for me. She'd have conniptions if I suddenly started taking an interest and actually requested a particular designer.
Laughing to myself, I glanced at my reflection in a huge mirror hanging on the wall. I wasn't vain, far from it, but I did think that I looked good tonight. The dark wool jacket sat just right on my shoulders, emphasising my broadness, and it ran down smoothly into my waist, helping to show off my trim body that, quite frankly, nature had given me, rather than much hard work from me.
Time was not on my side though, I thought morosely, fiddling with the jacket button. More trips to the gym were in my future if I wanted to stay trim. Middle age was rapidly approaching.
Pity party or what, Masen? Afraid of getting old? Worried about beer belly and saggy arse time?
Fuck off.
I glanced at the reflection of my arse tucked behind the tails of the jacket, twisting slightly for a better view. It might have been my imagination, but Bella seemed to like looking at it, so maybe it didn't look too bad.
There's a single vent in this jacket, not used to wearing that. Does it show my arse off well? Or does my arse look too big because these trousers hug pretty snugly now that I look at them...
"Edward, my boy, are you sure you're not gay? You seem quite taken with that pretty suit you're wearing," Alistair said as he walked up and flung an arm exuberantly around my shoulders. "Not that I blame you. If I looked like you, I'd flaunt it, too."
I flushed bright red. God, it'd been years since I'd blushed like that. But I had just been caught blatantly checking myself out. I hovered between masking my embarrassment with anger and laughing it off, but Alistair had caught me red-handed. He'd never let me forget it either. Laughter it was then.
"Piss off, Alistair," I said, grinning at him. "My character needs to look good, remember?" I met his eyes in the mirror and rolled mine in reaction to his laughing face. He was so enjoying himself. Git."But while you're here, make yourself useful." I decided to tease. "Does my arse look big in this?" I jokingly flipped up the back of the jacket to give him a better view and wiggled my arse just a bit. Serves him right for taking the piss out of me.
His grip on my shoulders tightened a bit. "Edward, love, if you value your sanity, don't ask me that and don't, whatever you do, do that wiggle thing again. I might not be able to restrain myself." He was laughing, but, I noticed with amusement, still looking at my arse in the mirror. He leaned in a bit closer and said, "If I were thirty years younger, my boy, I'd take you up on that lovely offer." And smirking playfully at my stunned expression, he dropped his arm from my shoulder and actually patted my arse. What the fuck! "Anyway, there's someone here who would not be happy with me, or you, if you took that lovely body elsewhere."
That git, touching up my arse. I'll get him back. I'll put CK underwear adverts up everywhere; that'll get him drooling... wait... what?
My laughter disappeared, and I met his gaze in the mirror again, frowning at him in puzzlement, startled enough to not respond to his humorous touching up of my arse.
'Someone would not be happy'...
Who?
"Who?" I asked him sharply, taking my now shocked looking eyes from his in the mirror and turning to look down into his mirthful grey ones. Did he mean Jessica? Because she had been interested, still was probably, despite our conversation last night. But my insides were not twisting at the thought of Jessica. Did he mean, could he mean ... possibly... but no. He couldn't. She didn't like me. At all.
Why the hell do I care?
Shut up and listen, you prat.
Alistair looked steadily back at me, the laughter clearing from his face. He made no reply at first, just looked into my eyes, seeing what, I wondered? Confusion? Hell yes, could you blame me? But had he seen that flare of something that might have been hope? I held my breath as I waited for his reply.
Fuck, what am I on about? Hope? Are you kidding me?
He patted me on the arm in an avuncular way, the friendly teasing gone now.
"Sometimes you need to look with your heart, my boy, and not your eyes. Don't let opportunities slip you by." He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice as he continued seriously, "Don't be afraid to take chances, Edward. You don't want to have to live with regrets later."
I stayed frozen, breath still trapped in my lungs. Was that it? Great advice, but what the hell?
There was a sadness deep in his eyes that spoke of personal understanding, and I grabbed hold of my inner selfish prat and shoved him down, gradually releasing the air in my lungs I had been holding onto. This was heartfelt advice, sincerely given, and I was conscious of the trust he was placing in me by saying it. I felt like a git for thinking this, but my inner selfish prat was shouting that he didn't understand. Didn't know how the advice related to my circumstances now, and he wanted to know.
Shut up. Alistair's obviously been hurt in the past and is trying to help.
Yeah, but, help how? What is it I'm missing? What should I be taking a chance on?
Before I could ask him to clarify what it was he thought I should be doing, he straightened up again and said professionally, "Get your make-up and costume fixed. These wretched lights are making us all wilt no matter how much I try. We'll be ready for Liam's entry scene by the time you've done that." And he gave me one last perfunctory pat on the arm before striding over to his control board, an unconscious sway to his hips as he stepped gracefully over cables and equipment before beginning to run through his electronics checks.
I stared after him in confusion. What was that all about? I felt as though something monumental had just happened, and that if I didn't try and work it out now, I'd miss what it was and never understand it. But I didn't have time to think about it any longer. Angela had stepped up to me and was opening up her kit and pulling out powders and brushes and foam pad things.
I'll think about it later. Got to concentrate now or I'll go mad.
So I submitted to Angela's ministrations, letting the character of Liam fill my mind, because his world was a hell of a lot less complicated a place to be right now than mine.
.
Bella POV
He was working incredibly hard. If I'd been asked to go over the same move again and again so that lights could be adjusted, I'd have been fuming. But he was taking it in his stride, listening to Jason as he directed his movements across the set, chatting comfortably with crewmembers as he waited patiently for everyone to be ready to do it again. And again. I enjoyed watching Edwards's films, but I'd never really considered how much hard work he must put into making them. I felt like a bit of an idiot as I thought about it. Fantasy Edward just appeared on the cinema screen, but Real Edward had to work hard to get there.
When Jason decided that everything was set up ready to go, we all grabbed a breather for a minute and tried to cool down. Edward moved to stand out of the direct light with its accompanying heat and stood, hands in pockets, shoulders slightly hunched again, gazing over towards the far wall, looking pensive. Was he worried about the scene? He took a hand out of the pocket and fiddled with the button on his jacket. I wondered what he was thinking about.
Probably about how hot it is in here. It's what the rest of us are thinking.
God, I've got to take this jumper off. I'm sweltering.
Remembering the complete idiot I'd made of myself the last time I took my jumper off in public, I sneaked out of the room to remove it. By the time I came back in, Angela was re-applying Edwards's makeup and it was time for me to do my job, too. Officially it was my responsibility to 'monitor the quality and continuity' of Edward's costume, and since I could tell he had been tugging on the tie again, that meant I had to help him re-adjust it. It was a hard life.
.
Edward POV
"Are you okay, Edward?" Angela asked as she worked at re-applying makeup to my face. "Are you not feeling well? You look a bit pale under all this."
Pale. Well, it wasn't anything to do with being felt up by a sixty-year-old gay man. I'd worked with Alistair on three projects now and knew that he was cheerfully touchy-feely with everyone, man and woman alike. It was just the way he was. I liked him as a friend, and now that I thought about it, a kind of mentor, too. He'd helped me a lot a couple of years ago when I didn't have a clue how to behave on a film set or what to do. So it wasn't his sexual orientation that I was concerned about, I'd never really given it much thought. It was the words he'd spoken to me so earnestly that were tormenting me.
Don't let opportunities slip you by. What opportunities? Because frankly, the opportunity to sleep with Jessica wasn't that unusual an occurrence, and I'd done all I was going to do at taking up those kinds of opportunities. What was it he thought I should know or be doing?
I was pretty sure that if I asked him, he wouldn't tell me. I got the definite impression that he thought it was one of those things where working it out for yourself was the whole point, but damn it, Alistair, bad timing or what? I had enough on my plate with these long days on top of a really long hard few months. I had to tackle the airport before I could finally get away on holiday. I hated stepping foot in an airport now because of all the photographers and clingy women who would materialise out of nowhere and try and grab me or photograph me as I walked through the terminal, sometimes nearly tripping me up. They all seemed to know my travel plans better than I did. And the people who would stare at me and photograph me as I went through security were worse. I hated having to put my personal possessions in a tray on display for them all to see, and taking my shoes off made me feel kind of vulnerable. It all felt so violating.
Never once had I snapped however, I thought with a tinge of pride. I always maintained a character whenever I had to go through that, pretending I was someone else and smiling for the cameras, signing a few autographs here and there and acting as if it didn't bother me. But I had a feeling that this time, I would be right on the edge. My stress levels would be right up, and I didn't know if I'd be able to maintain the fake character.
And to top off all that, I had this ... thing... with Bella. This connection, pull, whatever it was. I didn't know her from Eve, couldn't understand her attitude toward me, and yet felt compelled somehow to get closer to her, even though my brain was screaming at me to keep away. That couldn't be what Alistair had meant, could it? To not think about her with my head, but to think about her with my... heart?
Oh, fuck this. No way was my heart involved with this -whatever- with Bella. She was not the one elusive woman that I was looking for. I knew that for a fact, because the woman I was looking for to share my life with me would actually bloody like me.
Bella was some kind of witch creature. That was the only explanation for the feelings and emotions that churned inside me. She had some kind of magic that she had used on me to put me under a spell and make me feel so confused. I had never felt such a connection to such a contrary woman in my life before. But then, I had never met such a contrary woman before either.
Magic spell?
Oh for fuck's sake. Stupid, sodding idiot.
I was going mad. An image from a Harry Potter film of Ron Weasley after he had inadvertently ingested a love potion swam tauntingly through my mind. Damn Alice, making me watch those films. There was no way I looked as sappy and stupid as Ron in those scenes, thank you very much.
"Edward, are you sure you're okay?" Angela was asking me worriedly. "You look a bit out of it."
"Just, you know, getting into character," I lied, not at all convincingly, putting all thoughts of fictional magic firmly behind me. There had to be a rational explanation. "Don't worry, Angela, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
I smiled at her, my professional smile morphing into a genuine one when she raised an eyebrow at me and replied with a smirk, "Didn't know you were a fan of Harry Potter. Got a thing for girls in school uniform, have you?" She eyed me over the top of her glasses. My eyes widened as I struggled to control the rest of my face.
Shit. Did I say any of that out loud?
Angela was chuckling now as she patted more powder across my forehead and said, "I'm just kidding. You said 'fucking Ron Weasley' and looked like you wanted to strangle someone. Honestly, I'd love to know what that was all about."
"Oh, you really wouldn't," I replied, itching to run my fingers through my hair, but knowing I couldn't. Angela had it slicked down and firmly controlled for once. Really, I had no control over any other part of myself at all anymore.
She patted me on the arm... what is it with the arm patting? and said, "Time to go. They're ready for you."
I looked round at the crammed full room for the first time in several minutes. I'd almost forgotten why we were here in the first place.
"Thanks, Ang." I took a deep breath and turned towards where I knew Bella was standing. I couldn't see her, she was behind a couple of reflectors, but I knew she was there. I sighed again. Perhaps I should just stop worrying about it and just accept it. It would be a lot less stressful.
~~ooOoo~~
It wasn't actually a small room we were working in, but when it was packed full with all the equipment and people, it became a lot smaller. And hot. As the evening progressed, everyone stripped down further to t-shirts as the lights threw out heat like a baking summer's day. I didn't get to cool off though. I was wearing the suit and tie the whole damn time, trying, if it's possible, not to sweat, but having to have my makeup touched up every few minutes by the end.
The collar of my shirt was now feeling way too tight, and I kept pulling on it, trying to loosen it. The waist of my trousers was digging into my hips, and I fiddled with the fastenings, longing for the time when I could go and take them off. Even my shoes felt hot and tight. And through it all, Bella was there constantly, fussing with my shirt and my jacket, even slapping my fingers away when I tried for the hundredth time to run them around the inside of my shirt collar, which admittedly would have ruined my makeup, but I didn't care. It was so damn hot!
It got even hotter when Bella was down to wearing her loose shirt open over the little skimpy vest thing she had on underneath. Holy hell, how was I supposed to concentrate on anything when she was waltzing around in that? I couldn't keep my eyes off her, greedily lapping up every glimpse of her figure, every graceful movement her body made. My mouth was alternately watering at the sight of her and draining dry whenever she came near me.
It's true. I dried up. I could think of nothing to say, could push no coherent sounds through my lips. It's bloody amazing I managed to say my lines at all.
Her face was shiny from the heat; little wisps of hair around her face were sticking to the dampness there. She was obviously tired; I could tell from the slight droop of her shoulders and the way that she rested her weight on one hip sometimes, resting the other side of her body the way that women do. I watched as she laughed quietly at something a couple of the riggers said to her. She seemed shy, avoiding eye contact with them, and almost seemed embarrassed to be joining in with their banter. She was edgy, not relaxed with them, but in a shy kind of way, not a frightened one. She had never acted shyly with me, I thought with a touch of smug pride, but she did seem to be shy around almost everybody else. For some reason, this thought process took me down the road of imagining Bella and I together, with me being the only person in the world that she would talk to, me being her protector, her friend, her lover.
Whoa. Slow down there, boy.
Well, it was just a dream. A guy can dream.
I know you want that whole settle down thing, mate, but with her? Are you crazy? She's not what you're looking for, and don't forget: she hates you.
Maybe not so much tonight.
I'd like to be able to say that this wasn't true, but confusingly it was. Her attitude towards me seemed to have changed into a professional yet casual one; one that involved actually looking at me when she spoke to me, a few smiles and even -fucking unbelievable- a couple of jokes. I didn't get it. Well, I got the jokes and laughed breathlessly with her, unable to believe what was happening. No, what I didn't get was the transformation. Her mood swings were giving me whiplash. She didn't seem like the same woman from earlier in the day.
.
Bella POV
I didn't think it was possible, but Edward really was even more beautiful in person than he was in all the pictures of him that I had seen. And do you know why? Because he was a beautiful person. Inside, I mean. He was working hard, was pleasant to everyone, didn't complain or fuss about the heat or the repetitive work; he was just damn nice all the time. How could I have been such a bitch to think otherwise?
You really didn't get a good first impression of him though.
You really didn't give him a chance either, did you?
Damn it. I was such an idiot.
The heat generated in the room made Edward's brow a bit damp all the time; Angela had to keep running in and brushing powder and such on his face and neck. He kept fiddling with his collar, and I had to keep him from messing too much with his tie. I tried to appear friendlier towards him, hugely embarrassed by my unprofessional attitude throughout the day and trying desperately hard not to react to the heat from his body and the feel of his skin under my fingers when I couldn't prevent the contact. Perhaps, if I tried hard, he would forget how rudely I had behaved and we could finish out this shoot without any animosity.
I really hoped so.
It was too much to hope for anything more.
.
Edward POV
Not only did Bella seem to have changed, but I did, too, because I couldn't understand my previous reservations about her physical appearance. How could I ever have had any doubts that she was a beautiful woman? Every inch of her was lovely, and it didn't help that, as the evening went on, I could see more and more of her as she first removed her jumper, then rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, then unbuttoned it and left it open, the soft fabric swinging with her every movement. Should I have been worried that I knew that she rolled her right sleeve up first and then the left? That she had first unbuttoned the top three buttons and then, a few minutes later, the rest? Should I be worried that I now knew she bit her bottom lip when she was worried, twisted her clothes between her fingers when she was nervous, and held her breath when she was annoyed? Because I knew all those things. Watching someone will do that.
She had a little scar under her chin, pierced ears though she wore no jewellery in them, and a little collection of five freckles along her right collar bone. She had to be quite close to me for me to see those things, and close she had been. The heat made me fiddle with the costume or maybe it was nerves or maybe it kind-of-might-have been a bit deliberate.
Whenever she came near me to adjust pocket flaps I'd messed with or to straighten up the tie I'd habitually loosened, I felt not only the magical pull towards her, but also her warmth. The heat of her body touched mine as she leaned in closer, her warm breath caressed my neck as she stood on her toes to reach up and adjust my jacket collar. I couldn't be more aware of her and every movement she made or how my body reacted to hers. Several times, I'd had to suppress a groan and shift my weight so I could mask the physical signs of my attraction to her. I had to think of cold showers and ice baths and try desperately to force down the desire that was starting to wash through me.
It didn't help that sometimes she'd touch me. A brush of the back of her fingers against the burning skin of my neck as she adjusted my tie was nearly my undoing, sod whether there were a dozen people in the room along with three cameras. And every time she had reached up, the blue vest top she was wearing slid up her body just the tiniest bit, allowing a tiny sliver of pale skin to show above the top of her jeans. I ached to touch it, physically ached. I pulled my fingers into fists and shoved them into my pockets to prevent them from reaching forward and sliding over that forbidden area. Because forbidden it was. She didn't dress provocatively, didn't invite looks or touches, kept her body private and hidden away, and the snatches of skin were all the more erotic for it. I was beginning to really wish she felt the same for me.
.
Bella POV
If he didn't keep putting his hands in his pockets like that, I wouldn't keep thinking about it; about how the fabric stretched tighter and the zip strained, about the tantalizing shadows and bumps. I was pretty sure he dressed to the left, and I wished I'd thought to examine the trousers more closely last night to see if I could spot any extra room on one side of the centre seam or the other. A made-to-measure tux would be made to fit all parts of his body, after all, and men who were well endowed by their creator needed that little bit of extra room.
Oh, good grief, can you not think about something else for once?
Well, no, actually.
.
Edward POV
I'd managed to keep myself in check right 'til the end when I had to say the line. The one I'd been rehearsing without a second thought. The one that didn't mean a thing to me until I'd been trapped in that room with her, trapped in her bewitching company all day. The line where my character, Liam, looked back over his shoulder at his girlfriend as he left the room and said that when he got back home he wanted to fuck her into the middle of next week.
When I turned my head to say that line, Bella was right in my line of vision. I don't know whether I was thinking as Liam or as myself when I said it, but Bella's eyes were wide, and she grabbed onto the back of a chair for support as our eyes locked and I spoke those words directly to her. My body was bursting at the seams with sexual tension. I'd never been so wound up in my life.
Jason had let the seconds hang on and on, the tension inside me building even further, and I'm not sure what my expression was exactly, but when he called, "Cut!" Pete, standing by Bella's side muttered, "Fuck me." And then grinned a huge grin. "Well done, Edward. That'll have them flocking to the cinema."
There were chuckles and murmurs of agreement from all round, and I kind of felt like I was coming back down to earth. I glanced around and several people had flushed expressions on their faces, Angela in particular. I gave her a lopsided grin as she came forward with yet more powder and asked, "Will that do, do you think?"
She gave a shaky laugh and replied, putting her hand on her heart as if to hold it in place, "Yes, yes, I think so," before shaking her head as if clearing thoughts from it regretfully and turning to look behind her. "That was great, wasn't it, Bella?"
But before I could switch my attention back to Bella where it wanted to be, Jason was calling, "Hold positions, we're going to get some different angles." And I did the move and said the line several more times, but now, Bella was nowhere to be seen. She'd left the room. I held her image in my mind though. In fact, I was pretty sure the look on her face was one I would never forget. And it was no acting ability that put the burn of desire on my face or the heat in my eyes or the promise in my voice. That was all her.
.
Bella POV
Holy shit, could that man act. My knees were actually trembling from the intensity of it.
The deep voice, husky and desire-roughened, the way he had dipped his head and looked up through his eyelashes, his narrowed eyes filled with scorching heat, the restrained power quivering in every muscle throughout his body. The promise of it all.
Holy shit.
What I wouldn't give for that to be real.
.
Edward POV
"And cut! That was great, Edward. We'll call it a wrap for tonight, guys."
Jasons's words were a relief to everyone. It had been a hell of a long day. Whatever twist of fate that had put Bella into my line of sight didn't know what it was messing with. Lauren, my co-star's not being available until Saturday wasn't such a big deal with the wonders of ADR and an excellent editor, but I had been prepared to say the lines to a blank space. Seeing Bella standing just off camera had been fate having a great big laugh. Right in that moment, after the build-up and the tension and the fucking 'pull' between us, I had meant every single word.
Pete was looking smug, and even Jason looked pleased with how things had gone. It had felt pretty intense to me, that was for sure, and I wasn't positive I wanted to see how it had looked. But my professional head prevailed, and I wandered over to the small monitor and leaned down over Jason's shoulder to see. And froze in shock.
That couldn't be how I had reacted to Bella could it? I looked almost feral, like a possessive animal or something. I could almost see 'My Woman' blazing across my face.
"Good job, Edward," said Pete, practically rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. "You've really given Liam an edge there."
Yeah, that had been me as the character Liam, hadn't it? Not me, reacting to Bella.
Christ, that can't have been me.
But deny it all I tried, I knew the truth. That was all me. And fucking hell, that was terrifying. I felt like a great cliff had suddenly appeared before me, and I was balancing right on the edge of it. I wasn't seriously thinking of her in that way, was I? Mentally, I threw on the brakes and backed the fuck away from that edge. No way was I taking that plunge. No way. She was not the woman for me. Justin's earlier advice hovered insidiously around me wanting to be heard, but I refused to think about it now.
We work together. It's unprofessional to even be thinking about her like that.
Bit sodding late, mate.
And I really do prefer blondes. Really. And... she just isn't my type.
You can tell yourself that.
Fuck. Off.
Even thinking about pursuing her didn't feel right. She was so far removed from the type of woman I usually chose to date that I couldn't believe I was even contemplating it. All I knew about her was that she could be stern and cold and shy and nervous and she wore hideous jumpers and didn't like me very much. That wasn't someone I would choose to spend time with, was it?
Bloody hell, I can't ignore this pull I feel, I just can't.
The mysterious 'pull', the heat of her touch and the way my body now seemed to respond to her mere presence were too much to dismiss I knew that now. I didn't understand how these feelings could be real but I was pretty sure they were, I just didn't understand why. She wasn't my perfect woman, far, far from it, but for some reason I wanted her anyway.
It was scary as fuck.
Hastily, I strode down the corridor towards Wardrobe, more than eager to get this suit off, get into my own clothes, and escape upstairs. I needed a Plan. Striding across the room towards the changing area, my feet beat a rhythm on the solid wood floor; (...I don't understand... I don't understand...) I stripped out of the expensive clothes with relief, felt immensely guilty about leaving such a limp, sweat saturated shirt for Bella to deal with, dressed as quickly as I could back into my jeans and t-shirt, and strode purposefully back out into the corridor again. (...I need a Plan... I need a Plan...)
I needed to work out what the hell was wrong with me.
Music was drifting down the corridor from the main room, and I remembered Jessica saying that she had organised entertainment for the evening. Despite my exhaustion, unwinding and having a beer or two suddenly seemed a lot better an idea than brooding in my room unable to sleep, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and headed down towards the light, noise, and booze, knowing full well that Bella wouldn't be anywhere near it. Which was just what I wanted. I needed to think.
This had been, without a shadow of a doubt, the longest day of my life. And there were three more to go. It was going to kill me. She was going to kill me.
.
Bella POV
I slipped into the scullery intent on collecting my baby that I had left there to dry. There it was, looking all forlorn where I had left it. I pulled it down from the hanging rail and looked closely at it. I was pretty sure, even in this poor lighting, that I could see a large faint brown stain in the centre of the chest. I smiled ruefully. Really it didn't matter. It was just one more thing to remember this time by. I had thought about slipping one of the Polaroids I had taken of Edward wearing my baby in my bag, too, but that would be a direct violation of my contract, and I was too scared to try that.
It didn't say anything about T-shirts though.
Folding the fabric carefully and tucking it into the kit bag I still wore around my waist, I headed back out of the dimly lit scullery towards the main corridor.
The sounds of music and laughter drifted down the corridor from the main room where, true to her word, Jessica had set up a karaoke evening complete with bar and a table groaning under the weight of junk food and snacks. I didn't know whether or not it was true that an army marched on its stomach, but a film crew certainly did. I had peeked around the door a few minutes ago out of curiosity, but there was no way I was going to be joining in. I couldn't think of anything worse than being forced to sing in front of a whole bunch of people. Besides, I still had work to do. I had to make Edward some new underwear.
