A/N: Hi, guys! I have the best readers. You guys make my day with your love for my craziness. I hope you're having just as much fun as I am with these crazy kids. Thank you for your support. It means the world to me. :)
Since I've had people say that the POV switching is confusing to them, I think it's better to give you a heads up about it. This fic is going to have alternating POVs. They POVs will alternate with each chapter. I hope that's cleared it up.
Chapter-25: Behavior
Word Prompt: Behavior
Scenario: The competition is just getting started.
Complete the scenario in any way, in any style, and for any word count. Open your mind and follow where it leads, writing as you go.
~*~*~*DreamWeaver*~*~*~
"So what's Code 187?" I ask her as we walk together to the café.
She stops in her tracks and looks at me with wide eyes. "What?"
I rub the back of my neck self-consciously as I say in response, "Yesterday, when the big guy came to look for you, he said something about a code 187 …" I give her a look of uncertainty when I add, "Hey, he's not ... someone you … uh … like, is he?"
God! Cullen, could sound more awkward? I cuss at myself, thinking that maybe I should just permanently change my name into Awkward Cullen instead.
She eyebrows rise in curiosity as she asks, "Why?"
"Just getting ideas, you know?" I ask back with a shrug.
"About what?"
"Competition. If he is interested in you, you need to tell him that I won't back down."
She scrunches up her nose a little bit and prompts me, "Anything else?"
"Yeah," I reply after thinking for a moment. "You can tell him that if he wants a competition, he'll get a competition. It's just getting started anyway."
I feel very manly with the way I've managed to articulate myself—until I see the way her cheeks flush with the effort to keep from laughing. "What?" I ask, cautiously.
She shakes her head and reaches down to take my hand in hers. "Edward, there's no competition. The guy you saw yesterday …?"
"McCarty," I supply the name helpfully, making her smile at me.
"Yes, Emmett McCarty. He's my cousin, and teammate," she explains rubbing my thumb with hers. "You have no competition to worry about."
Fuck! I'm the lamest guy on the planet!
"Shit! Sorry. I uh …" I trail off, not sure what I can say to minimize my embarrassment.
However, as it turns out, I have nothing to worry about because I have Bella with me. She doesn't laugh at me for my slightly (okay, a lot) caveman-like behavior. Instead, she stills me by tugging on my hand and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
I feel the heat of her kiss radiate through me and warm her from inside.
And that doesn't make you sound a little bit like a pussy, Cullen!
"You don't need to apologize, Edward," she whispers in my ear. "It's actually quite endearing the way you want to fight for me."
I'm suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that we're standing in the middle of a sidewalk en route to the café. Why? Because I have a hunch that pouncing on her in public wouldn't probably seem quite so endearing to Bella.
But man! A guy can always fantasize, right?
~*~*~*DreamWeaver*~*~*~
Bella lets out a soft moan as she takes the first sip of her coffee, immediately sending the sound right to brain—which happened to be directly connected to my dick.
Not a good time, Cullen, I mentally chastise myself and try to think of anything that might calm me down.
What I don't expect is her next words, which make me think of anything but my dick—just like that.
"So code 187 refers to homicide," she tells me with a nod of her head.
"Hom-ee-siiide?" The word leaves a sour taste in my mouth as I repeat it.
"Uh-huh. The police thought it was a mob-hit at first and notified our unit, but when we got there, it seemed like a singular murder—not at all like typical mob-hits."
The realization that this amazingly beautiful woman sitting across from me knows what typical mob-hits look like, almost makes my heart stop.
Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine, needing to feel her presence there with me. "Bella," I ask quietly. "You're not in any danger, are you?"
Her lips stop in mid-smile, and she frowns. "Danger? Why would I be in any danger?"
I can't find the words to express the worry that made my heart stutter when she told me about the murder. So, I just say with a half-shrug, "Mob means guns and shit, you know?"
A teasing glint comes to her eyes as she winks at me. "Who told you that I don't like guns?"
And just like that, I'm hard again.
Fuck! This situation unbelievably insane … and insanely hot. What are you doing to me, Bella Swan?
A/N: That's a good question, no?
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Take care.
Ann