A/N: Alright… so, Edward just picked up Bella and carried her (against her will) to his car… and… ACTION. This chapter's gonna be too damn fun to write.

Chapter Fourteen

What a prick.

Seriously.

What does he think this is? Gone With the Wind? You don't just pick up a girl when you want her to go somewhere. You don't just act sexy and amazing and lean in to kiss someone and then disappear. Prick.

We were in his car now. He had carried me all the way there, never releasing me, even going so far as putting me into the passenger seat and buckling my seatbelt around me. He didn't say a word, didn't look at me, didn't breathe. Just snapped the seatbelt into place, slammed the passenger door, and walked around the car too quickly.

We had been driving maybe four minutes when he stopped, pulling the car into a parking space and cutting the engine.

"I thought you were taking me home," I muttered, realizing I sounded like a six-year-old in the middle of a temper tantrum and not having the energy to care.

"You need to eat something. That idiot never fed you."

I shot him a look across the center console, but he was already halfway out of his seat and at my door a second later. How did he do that?

"I'm not hungry. I just want to go home."

"Do you need me to carry you again, Bella?" he threatened, his voice a mix of irony and annoyance.

"Whatever."

I swung my legs onto the ground before he had a chance to try to pick me up again. The area we were in now looked much more populated, all bright lights and welcoming store fronts, and I didn't need to be humiliated yet again tonight. Especially with an audience.

I stood myself up, bracing myself against his car for support, and winced. My ankle was not happy. It was no wonder. Mike had kept me walking way too far. Edward noticed my grimace, of course, and immediately drew his arm around my waist, closing the car door quietly behind me and supporting the bulk of the weight as he led me towards our destination, a cheerfully-lit, low brick building with a green awning over the door proclaiming "La Bella Italia" in white script.

"Italian," I muttered under my breath. This had to be where Mike was trying to take me. He had been going in the wrong direction. "Jesus, what a douche."

I could feel Edward chuckle silently beside me, but I didn't look up at him until we made it inside and stopped in front of the hostess station.

"Good evening," Edward said to the girl behind the podium. "Table for two, please."

She giggled and stared and twisted her long blonde hair around her finger a couple of times before reaching down and grabbing a couple of menus. Edward didn't seem to notice her, though, which just made her tug on her hair more forcefully. Apparently that move usually worked for her.

"Right this way," she said a bit too loudly. She led us through the crowded restaurant, her hips swaying a bit too widely, nearly clipping a couple of patrons as she weaved past their tables. "Here we are," she said, placing the menus on a table and gesturing for us to sit. The table was situated in the exact middle of the dining room, and, I suspected, within full view of her perch at the hostess stand.

Edward looked at the table and frowned, before throwing the hostess a devastating smile and leaning closer to her.

"Do you have anything a bit more private, perhaps?" he asked, pressing his hand firmly into hers. It looked as though her hand was closed around something when he pulled his away, and I wondered what had just happened. Part of me suspected he'd just tipped her, but the jealous part of me was convinced he had just slipped her his phone number.

Her eyes widened and she nodded like a broken doll. The poor girl. I couldn't hold my own when Edward smiled at me, either. She took a couple of deep breaths and picked our menus back up slowly, composing herself, before turning to face him again.

"Follow me," she purred, leading us into a back corner of the restaurant. It was darker back here, with enormous booths clearly meant for larger parties. But it was well away from the noisy chatter of the restaurant, and it seemed to satisfy Edward. "This alright, sir?" she asked, gesturing towards the furthest table from the dining room.

"It's perfect. Thank you." He didn't smile this time, and seemed impatient for her to leave.

She leaned over the table a bit too far, arching her back as she dropped our menus into place, and I fought the urge to gag. She was taking this a bit too far.

"Thank you," he repeated, gesturing for me to sit before taking his own seat across the table from me.

She looked at him expectantly, but he ignored her, and she walked away with her head down.

I arranged myself in the booth, twisting my hands in my lap and looking everywhere but at him. My date with Mike had taken a very unexpected turn, and I didn't know what to think about anything that had just happened.

How did Edward know where we were? That we were in trouble? Where did he learn to fight like that? Why did he insist on taking me home? Why did he insist on feeding me? Why…

"Bella," Edward interrupted, leaning across the table towards me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

He smiled lightly and gestured towards the woman who was now standing at the end of our table. "What would you like to drink?"

"Oh," I shook my head, embarrassed. I'd been spacing out. "Coke?"

"And for you, sir?" the waitress breathed, leaning towards him. This shit was getting old.

"Two Cokes," he said, waving his hand, his eyes on my face. She walked away dejectedly.

"You need to stop doing that," I said to him irritably.

"Doing what?"

"Dazzling people. Being you. It's not fair to the rest of the world."

"Pardon?" he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

I scowled at him.

"Bella, forgive me, but I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah. Sure. You don't know what I mean."

"I don't."

"Fine, then. I'll show you. When the waitress comes back, I want you to smile at her."

"You want me to… what?" He looked genuinely confused. I'm not going to lie, it was kind of adorable.

"Smile at her, Edward. Smile at her and watch what she does."

"I don't want to smile at her."

"Do it. I'm asking you to. I'm giving you permission. Do it."

He sighed, baffled by my behavior. To be frank, I was kind of baffled, too. I didn't want to see him smile at another girl, didn't want him to smile at anyone but me. But I wanted him, needed him, to know the effect he has on people. I needed him to know the effect he has on me.

"Two Cokes," the waitress announced, setting them down on the table in front of us. "Are you ready to order?" She was looking at Edward as though I wasn't there. Edward, of course, was looking at me. And I hadn't read the menu.

"Ummm… mushroom ravioli," I said, choosing the first item I saw.

"And for you, sir?" she asked, looking at Edward like she wanted him to bend her over our table. "What can I get for you?"

"Nothing for me," he said, still looking at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and jerked my head in her direction. He frowned in consternation before breaking our gaze and turning his head to the waitress. "Thank you," he said smoothly, smiling at her.

The jealous part of me was irrationally pissed off. He only smiled at her because I asked him to.

The rest of me had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

Her reaction was… priceless. I felt less alone in the world. Her face turned shades of red that even I couldn't accomplish. Her body tensed and then melted, and she had to rearrange her feet to maintain her balance. She opened her mouth as though to say something, but seemed to think better of it and merely nodded a couple of times before walking away.

When I was sure she was gone, I began laughing hysterically. My body shook and my eyes watered. My hands clutched my sides.

"Drink your soda, Bella," Edward muttered, pushing my drink towards me.

I looked at him then. Looked at his uncomfortable expression, his lips drawn into a taut line, his eyes narrow in confusion. He thought I was making fun of him. That made me quiet down a bit. I may have told him to "fuck off" in the past, may have snapped at him and told him to get out of my life, but I would never make fun of him.

"You really don't understand what you do to people. Do you?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and pulling my soda towards me.

"I know… a bit. I know that I can get things when I smile, for one," he admitted, looking at me sheepishly. "And I know that women seem to… like me. It doesn't mean I understand why, though."

I snorted, covering my face with my hands at the sound.

"I don't like being laughed at, Bella," he said quietly.

"I'm… I'm not laughing at you, Edward. Really. It's just, I mean… you're gorgeous. You have to know that. You can't walk around with that face and those eyes and not know it." Shit. Did I really just say that?

"You think I'm gorgeous?" he asked, smiling at me.

"I didn't say that I thought that… oh, hell. Fine. You're very attractive, Edward. But you know that."

"I think you're very attractive too, Bella."

Fuck. Me.

"I, um… thanks."

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench, trying to adjust my cast under the table. He noticed.

"Does your ankle hurt?" he asked, concerned. Of course he was concerned. He was always concerned. When he wasn't angry.

"It's fine," I lied.

"No it isn't. Here," he said, reaching under the table and smoothly pulling my leg onto the bench.

"It's f---"

He gave me a look, silencing me, as he unstrapped the bulky plastic from around my ankle and set it aside, cupping my heel in his hand and elevating my foot slightly.

"Does that feel better?" he asked, looking at me.

"Yes," I sighed, relief washing over me. "Thank you."

His hand was cold, but it calmed the throbbing feeling I'd been fighting against since my little walk with Mike.

"Are your hands always so cold?" I asked, leaning my head back against the wall of the booth.

"Sorry," he muttered, setting my foot down on the cracked red vinyl of the bench.

"No, please… it feels good. I wasn't complaining. Just curious."

He left my foot on the bench, though, and moved back around to his side of the booth.

"I'm… yes. My hands are always cold."

"Must be nice," I offered. "I'm always too hot."

He looked uncomfortable. Again.

"So, Edward," I began, trying again, "tell me about yourself. I don't really know anything about you. Except that you have impeccable timing."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, first the truck and now this," I said gesturing vaguely outside. "You've saved my life twice now. I'd call that timing."

"I don't…," he began, fidgeting. And then his face changed entirely. "What were you thinking walking in the middle of nowhere with Mike Newton," he demanded.

"I didn't…"

"And why didn't you make him drive you? You shouldn't be walking anywhere right now."

"I asked…"

"And what were you doing going on a date with him in the first place? He's beneath you, Bella. He's a child. Is that what you look for in a man?"

"Stop it."

"And--. What?"

"I said stop it. You do not talk to me like that. Ever."

"I—"

"No, Edward. If you would like to know something, you can ask me. You can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer you to the best of my ability. But don't you dare judge me or yell at me like that ever again. You have no right to talk to me that way, regardless of what you've done for me. Now apologize."

"What?"

"I said apologize, Edward, or I'm leaving. I told you before that I would not tolerate these mood swings of yours anymore, and I meant it."

He looked at me. Bewildered and annoyed and hurt and amused. I looked back at him.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he murmured, suddenly intensifying his gaze. "You deserve better than this. And I will try to be better. I promise."

"Thank you," I replied curtly. I crossed my arms across my chest and sat back. I was proud of myself.

"Why--," Edward began, stopping himself for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Bella, why did you say yes to Mike Newton?"

He dropped his eyes to the table. I was baffled by his behavior. Were his feelings hurt? Was he… Was Edward Cullen jealous?

"If I answer your question will you answer one of mine?" I asked, and he eyed me skeptically. "It's only fair, Edward. That's a pretty personal question."

He nodded once.

"Because he asked me," I said simply.

"That's not a reason."

"Yes it is."

"Bella, you know it isn't. Please just answer the question like you said you would."

His eyes met mine and this time I looked away first.

"Because he was nice to me all day and I would've felt guilty turning him down. Because he's a boy and I'm a girl and I have to remind myself of that sometimes. Because I haven't been out on a Friday night in a very long time. Because…" I was worried about saying the next part, but I made myself spit it out anyway, "because I was hoping you would feel jealous. I wanted to make you jealous."

He inhaled sharply at the last remark, and then his face changed again. His eyes softened, his mouth twitched, he looked… relieved?

"My turn," I stammered, wanting to move past what I'd just admitted. "How did you know where we were? That we were in trouble?"

He shook his head slightly looking down at his hands on the table.

"Edward, you've broken too many promises to me already. Answer my question. I answered yours."

I reached across the table towards him, trying to touch my fingers to his, to tell him it was alright, but he pulled his hands into his lap and looked up at me miserably.

"Edward—"

"I followed you."

His voice was so quiet that I couldn't be sure what I'd just heard.

"What?"

"I followed you," he said louder, admitting it. He stared at me like he was afraid I was going to get up and run away from him. Throw my drink in his face. Call him a stalker.

I didn't.

I sat there and wondered my stomach felt warmer at his admission. Why my body tingled. Why I liked the fact that he'd followed me.

"You followed me," I repeated, nodding. "Why did you do that?"

"I just needed to know you were safe. I wasn't spying on you or anything, I promise. I didn't go into the movie or…"

"You were at the movie theater?"

"Yes."

"Did you hear us talking in the parking lot?"

"Yes."

"Why did you move your car when we started walking?"

"I was trying to give you some… privacy."

I nodded as though that made perfect sense.

"And then…" I prompted.

"And then that man put his hands on you. He put his hands on you and Newton just stood there." He was getting angry again, and I tried to come up with something to distract him.

"But your car was around the corner… how could you…"

"I have… good hearing," he explained, looking uncomfortable again.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Bella."

"Don't be."

We looked at each other again, silence blossoming in the space between us. The waitress brought my ravioli, and I was grateful to have something to concentrate on for a while.

I was spearing my first piece of pasta on my fork when he spoke again.

"Why did you want to make me jealous?"

I froze.

"You said I'm attractive and you said you wanted to make me jealous."

I stopped breathing.

"Why, Bella?"

Shit.

He leaned towards me across the table, and, against my will, I found myself looking at him. His mouth was twisted into that impossible crooked smile, and his eyes were bright. He was enjoying this. Bastard.

"I might, um… look, this is… I just…"

"Why, Bella?"

"I like you, ok? No matter how much I hate you. no matter how much you piss me off and make me crazy and… no matter how much I fight it, I still like you."

I shoved the ravioli in my mouth and concentrated on chewing. I concentrated on the fork and how it felt in my hand. The bowl of pasta in front of me. The dancing bubbles in my soda.

I ate for a minute in silence, willing the redness out of my cheeks, willing my heart o beat normally again, before looking up at him.

He looked… sad.

"This… this isn't right, Bella. This isn't right or fair to you, and I'm sorry. It's all my fault." His eyes met mine for the hundredth time that night but, for the first time, his carefully constructed wall was down. He was vulnerable.

All I wanted to do in that moment was hug him. To wrap my arms around him and hold his head in my hands and make him feel happy again. I felt my hand creep across the table again, seeking him out, but I drew it back, knowing he wouldn't let me touch him.

"I don't see how it's your fault, Edward. It's a silly thing to apologize for."

"No, Bella. I shouldn't have… it's one thing for me to want you, to worry about you, to think about you. But it's… you're suffering because of me. Because of me. It's unacceptable."

He kept talking, kept muttering, kept running his hands through his hair distractedly… but I didn't hear him. I didn't hear a word he said.

He wanted me. He worried about me. He thought about me.

"You want me?" I asked quietly, interrupting his monologue.

"Yes," he breathed, leaning forward onto the table, dropping his head into his hands.

I reached forward timidly and stroked his forearm with my fingertips, tracing a line up over his hand and into his beautiful bronze hair. I ran my nails lightly across his scalp he leaned into my hand, moaning softly at my touch. Emboldened by his response, I moved my other hand to his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb.

"Bella," he whispered, lifting is head and ensnaring me in his gaze, "god, Bella. You have no idea how that feels."

He slowly reached his hand across the table and brushed a lock of hair from my eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. So damn beautiful."

"Can I get you anything else?" a clipped, female voice said loudly.

Edward was gone again, leaning back against the booth as though nothing had happened. The wall behind his eyes back up again.

I looked around for the source of the disruption, trying to force the Edward-induced fog from my brain so I could think clearly again. The waitress was standing at the edge of our table, arms folded across her chest. Who the fuck does she think she is?

"We're fine, thanks. I have everything I need right here." I gestured across the table to Edward, my tone dripping with venom.

"We need the check, please," Edward said, reaching out to stop her as she walked away. "As soon as possible."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Bella," he sighed, "we need to have a talk."

A/N: Woohoo! That was super fun to write. Hope it came across alright. Review please!!! I'm dying to know what you thought. : )