A/N: You'll be getting two povs this chapter, first will be Edward and second you so much for every kind word and every minute you've spent here. XOXO
The sounds of intercoms, clicking keyboards, and my footsteps carry down the sterile halls of Cullen Automotive as I make my way toward the front lobby.
Couldn't sleep for shit last night. Thoughts have been racing since I rolled out of bed this morning. I'm feeling less than confident and it's not something I'm accustomed to.
I've tossed it over and over in my mind and after waiting all day, she still hasn't replied back to my call, not even a text. She could still be with him, which is worst case scenario, and I'm prepared for that, but something tells me Bella isn't just going to give in to me.
She's got this rebellious side to her— she won't just surrender. And plus, I think she likes my chase. I could see it in the little smirks she gave. The sarcastic tone in her responses. And that's fine. I don't mind chasing her, I even like it, as long as I know I'll have her in the end. And that's what's got me all fucked up. The not knowing.
Last night, after Brooke and I finished everything, I called Bella. I didn't play any games, I just let her know that I'm ready when she is. Was I hoping that I'd get a call at two am? Of course.
No response yet and it's almost four pm.
It never occurred to me when I was in that restroom with her, that I would have to work for it. I'm not used to having to work for a woman's attention. This comes natural to me. And not that she isn't worth the work, I just thought it was clear in that kiss, that this was happening. There's no stopping it.
I even told her that.
And that kiss.
Countless wet dreams of the girl in the frame, with the dark brown hair. Not one of those dreams even came close to that kiss. How her small body felt pressed up to mine. How she made me burn for her.
It's only been one day and she's got me twisted.
One tiny taste of her awakened all my senses.
What was once something that frightened and confused me has morphed into something that's so clear, something so absolute.
This unstoppable desire to possess her runs so deep, and the fact that it's been a sleeping bear for all these years makes it even more profound. It's not something new… it's been inside me, lying dormant all this time. With one kiss, she woke all the need I've pushed down, all the desire for a real connection, and all the want for that four letter word that scares me to death, she woke it all up in one, warm touch of her tongue.
The fear is no longer at the forefront. The need and desire for her are racing far far ahead. And now the possibility of not having her's got me all messed up.
In my eyes, there's no competition.
Put me and Jake Black beside each other and it's evident that I'm the better man. Looks wise, mind wise, class wise and if that kiss was any indication as to how our sex would be? Jake Black won't even be an afterthought once I have her. But the thought that she might not be convinced of this has me feeling a little panicked and I'm questioning myself for the first time in my life.
I can't believe I'm even thinking about asking Emmett for advice, but at this point… it's necessary. He's never gone wrong in the relationship department.
Throughout high school, he always had a good, steady girlfriend— always unapologetically committed to someone. So I know, if anyone can give me pointers on how to really do this romance-relationship thing right, it's gonna be him.
I pass Gloria's desk and she turns her eyes up to me. She looks at me like she wants me to take her right there on the desk. She'd probably let me. But I don't see Gloria sitting there. All I see is Bella. She's everywhere.
Once I round the corner, I see Emmett.
The large open lobby houses a few of our newest models, some stacked Michelin tires and a few reception areas. Emmett is standing against the counter, under the parts and services sign, as I come up behind him.
He's got the phone to his ear, pen to a pad.
I thump the the back of his head as hard as I can and then duck, missing his swing when he turns around, and then I punch him in the thigh. He tries to end the conversation as he puts me in a headlock and we stay tangled that way, quietly wrestling, knocking papers off the counter, twisting the phone cord around us, until he hangs up the phone.
I reach to grab his balls and he instantly releases my neck. He smiles at me as I stand up, running fingers through my hair.
"What's up, cocksucker?"
"You got a minute?"
He's got his fists up, fake punching me in the gut while he speaks. "Got ten minutes before the next delivery."
I look around before I begin, making sure no one is within range to hear what I'm about to say.
"I need your advice."
.
.
.
After listening to all of Emmett's advice, I've decided that girls are just too fucking complicated.
I don't want to have to think about all these fucking rules he mouthed off. Why can't I just be straight up with her? Why do I have to do all this silly shit, like flowers and sweet notes. That's not even me.
But if it works, I guess it will be worth it.
When I pull into her driveway I see her car parked in the front.
With a huge bouquet of flowers in hand, I walk up the steps that remind me so much of Chief Swan.
It's a strange feeling, walking up these steps knowing he'll never be here again. When I knock on the door, I imagine him opening it with a simple, "Edward, good to see you son," before ushering me in.
I get lost in my thoughts of Charlie for a few minutes before I notice that she isn't coming. So I leave the flowers there in front of the door.
I was really hoping to see how she'd react to me bringing her flowers. If I'm honest, I was hoping I could kiss her again.
But it's okay, I'll take my time, because in the end I have no doubt that she'll be mine. It's just the waiting that sucks.
For the first time in my life, I feel a purpose driven need.
And as I back out of her driveway, seeing those flowers there, I imagine how beautiful she'll look with the smile that they'll surely give her.
And I smile to myself… because I don't doubt it anymore. I know.
She will be mine.
.
.
.
His skin shimmers bronze against the sun.
I sit back and admire the defined lines of his muscles as he takes both hands, wiping the wet hair that dangles out of his face.
Sometimes when I look at him, I see perfection. A perfect, sculpted body… a gorgeous handsome face. Eyes that whisper dreams of sexual desire, lips that look like they were made in a mold… he's essentially flawless. When I stack all my imperfections against his perfections, it's intimidating.
He could have anyone. And he's brought me here with him.
I watch him coming up from the shore to our spot on the beach. We're both just biding our time until it happens. The it being sex.
He's holding the sex hostage even though we can't keep our hands off of each other. When I woke up next to him the other morning in my room, it was such a sleepy, silky, dreamy feeling… his skin against mine, our warm bodies pressed together. I ached for him. His kisses, so soft and lush, I practically begged him for it. His response just made me want him more.
The memory of that morning flashes through as he trods through the sand, eyes on mine.
It wasn't quite daylight out yet, but no longer dark.
"Shhh... " He laid a kiss on my lips, speaking in whispers. "You think our first time is gonna be while you've still got that shit in your system?"
He pulls up, smiling confidently down to me. "Nah." His top teeth scrape over his lower lip before he continues with lust in his eyes, "When I get inside you, there won't be any doubt as to why it feels so good. When I take you, you'll be completely sober and it'll be better than any drug you can find." He covers my pleas with his kisses, stilling my hips with his strong hands. Speaking with his lips on mine, he sends thrills through me. "I'll take every breath from these lungs," his hand touches my chest, as he places another kiss to my lips, "Every kiss from these pretty lips and every memory, of sex before me, away. I'll make it all brand new and you'll be all mine."
My tummy flip flops and a smile breaks out at the thought of it.
And the thought of every excuse he's given since then brings me right back down.
It's four in the afternoon, we're on the beach in Malibu. He brought me to one of his friend's places and we had the whole house to ourselves all day yesterday, last night. Today. It's pretty amazing. Cozy lounge chairs right out on the beach, which is just footsteps from the back door.
We have to get back in just a little bit though. He's gotta pack for his seven am flight out tomorrow morning.
It's all I can think about.
I've tried to put it in the back of my mind since he told me after breakfast. Up until then, I was truly enjoying our time together. We drove here laughing, kissing, talking and smiling.
When he opened the door and I saw the place, my face lit up with excitement. I rushed through, straight to the glass walls with views of oceanside cliffs, white beaches and blue ocean for miles.
We laid in the sun yesterday, showered and then he took me out to a nice dinner. I thought I'd die seeing him leaning against the kitchen counter in nothing but a towel but then he got dressed and he was so gorgeous it was painful. He was draped in all black, like he usually is, with his leather jacket on, a big watch, looking like danger and sex melded into one. He was perfection. I couldn't keep my hands off of him and he couldn't keep his lips off of me.
After dinner we came back to the house and sat out on the shore with a bottle of wine and the moon bright above us. Slow kisses turned to soft moans and needy hands. With his tongue pressed between my thighs, he took me to the sky.
When we got in the bed he finally let me touch him, see him… taste him, but the one thing he wouldn't do was have sex with me.
When I woke wrapped up in his skin this morning, I thought I might die if I couldn't get him any closer, inside me. He felt me with his fingers, which helped soothe the ache, but it didn't completely take it away. And nothing will but that single type of closeness you get through sex.
He's already made love to me with his mind. We're like one sometimes in our conversations, our views on life, in our friendship… I just need that last piece of him to feel complete.
I watch as my bronze god shimmers closer to me, his eyes gazing into mine. He bends to kiss me, and both of us sigh at the touch. "You ready to go?"
I smile up to him, keeping one eye shut from the sun's rays as he stands there in his wet trunks. "No. But I guess we have to?"
He holds out his hand and I take it in mine, "Come on, pretty girl."
.
.
.
We pass the Welcome to San Ansvaro sign as I sit quietly beside him, contemplating how my time with him has been such a sanctuary. So much happiness. Yesterday was one of the best days of my life. Just a fun, easy day, full of talking, kissing, touching. Loving.
I'm pretty sure I fell in love with Briggs a few weeks ago, but last night I fell for life. He's got my heart. I don't know how I'll get through without him now.
And I don't know why he's doing this. I mean, I know why— I just… ugh. I'm willing to sacrifice making it more complicated and getting a broken heart in exchange for being with him that way. He, on the other hand, feels like he'd be a dirtbag to fuck me and leave the next day. What he doesn't get, is that I don't care. I'll take the heartbreak of him leaving, I'll even take the guilt for making him feel like he's a douche, I just want to be with him that way.
.
.
.
We've driven the entire way with our hands tucked into one another's. We're almost back to my house and I can't stop thinking about it. Each time he leans over and kisses me, it kills. I think I'm losing my mind.
If he's worried about breaking my heart, it's already done. The damage sits right here inside me. Constant thoughts about him leaving circle around in my head and the hole in my heart is already spreading like fire to paper, singeing it's way from the inside out.
He doesn't understand that he's trying to stop something that's already started. The damage is done and I need him now more than ever, but Briggs is the boss here, he's made it clear that he won't go there until he gets back from New York, and my god, how can I not respect that? It's so valiant. So good. So true.
So heartbreaking. I ache for him.
.
.
.
When we pull into the driveway, the sun is setting and my heart is sinking with it. He grabs my bag and comes around to open the door for me, wrapping me in his arms when I stand. "Did you have fun?"
I smile into his chest. "I loved every minute."
When we start up the steps I see a beautiful, tall arrangement of purple, white and lime green flowers. They're so pretty and big, taking up almost the entire width of the door. I immediately smile at the sight of them, but wonder why someone would be sending flowers over two months after Charlie's funeral.
Briggs bends to pick them up, a peculiar look on his face as he snatches the note, handing it to me.
When I read the words, I'm flustered.
Not only the last thing I expected, but what a fucking predicament I've found myself in.
Briggs looks to me in question and he can see that I'm taken aback a little so he slides the note gently out of my fingers and reads it for himself.
He doesn't appear to be mad. A solemn look is on his face as he gently takes my keys out of my hand, sticking them into the lock and then turning the knob. He opens the door, waiting for me to enter and then he leaves the flowers outside, shutting the door behind him as I throw my bag on the couch.
My brain is a flurry of racing thoughts and it's hard to look at Briggs right now. For some reason, I feel embarrassed at the notion of receiving flowers from Edward after the last two nights that I've spent with Briggs. So much has changed so fast, it's just… overwhelming.
When I glance to Briggs still standing beside the door, he comes quickly to me, and with little effort, I'm scooped into his arms and he's jogging us both up the stairs, his lips plastered to mine.
I'm breathless and all thoughts of anything are gone, except the burning need to feel him inside me, as he tosses me onto my back on the bed.
He's peeling his shirt off, untangling his belt and it's gone too. The look in his eyes is fierce and he's changed his mind. It's written on his face as he bends to grab my ankles, pulling me closer to him.
My shorts are flying off of my legs, my shirt next and within seconds Briggs is on top of me with a husky voice spilling into my ear, "You're fucking mine."
