Chapter Twenty One

My ocean away bff is the Bella to my Edward, the jelly to my peanut butter, the chocolate to my milk (even though that one sounds dirty). She is my muse. And I hate her for it.

Bella's nose started working before the rest of her body came online. The smell of a freshly home cooked meal that wasn't threatened beyond an inch of its life infiltrated her nose, turning on every other sense. She cringed as she tried to sit up, barely remembering why she was sore all over in the first place. Then she remembered.

Oh right, sliding down Edward's practically naked body and continuing my decent downstairs face first.

Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to gain her bearings and force herself to move, Bella overheard voices wafting down the hall from the kitchen. From her perch on the couch in the living room she could hear everything.

"How long has she been living here?"

Pause. "A few days… Look, it's not bad! I mean nothing happened, exactly, technically. I just, she's ugh."

"Finish your thought dear."

"She's everything, yet she's still a stranger. I feel like I know so much about her when I really don't. I know she's from Forks, that her father is the chief and her mother works at an elementary school. I'm not sure what her favorite color is, but I know her favorite band is Mumford & Sons.

"I know she hates coffee creamers and drinks her coffee black. I know her nose wrinkles when she's uncomfortable or doesn't like something and I know she blushes when she hears a compliment. And I know she's beautiful."

"Why do you say all that like it's a bad thing. You don't not know this woman Edward. I clearly don't know her, but you like her."

"I do."

His mother must have opened the oven because ten seconds after she didn't respond Bella was hit with a gust of something heavenly. "Stop over thinking this honey. Just because you've been burned once, doesn't mean you should write off trying, forever."

Edward scoffed. "I was more than just burned mother. I was practically drowning in gasoline. And ya know what, fuck that metaphor. I put my heart out on the line for Jane and that bit me in the ass. I don't want to jump head first into this and never make it back out."

"But you want to try, don't you?"

"I really do."

Reviews are better than wanting to try.