Disclaimer: I don't even know any more. I don't own Edward or Bella, but I own the story, so just don't steal anything please.
Well, here we go...
Chapter Thirty-Five
"Well, I'll have to find my passport..."
"So…" He stares at me for a moment, the chilly night air kicking up around us. "You're coming with me?"
I tuck my hair behind my ears with hands that shake from the cold and the adrenaline that's surging through my veins.
My voice sounds shaky, but the longer I stand there the more the idea cements itself in my mind. "Yeah… yep. I'm coming to Rio."
Edward crosses the space between us in two long strides, interlacing his fingers with mine and pulling me along behind him as he makes a beeline for the house. "We better hurry then. Flight leaves in a few hours."
To his credit, he's relatively calm as he helps me pack, but when he asks me for the tenth time if I'm sure, I'm about ready to beat him to death with my passport. The fact is that if I don't go now I'll regret it the minute he leaves without me. And this time I'm not letting him. Not again.
I'm packed in record time, changed into something comfortable and all ready to go, when I realise there's something important I'm leaving behind.
Five minutes later Rosalie is up and out of bed, looking dishevelled but alert.
"Rosie!" I yell, impatient and more than a little nervous that we'll miss the flight entirely. "Get in the car!"
With her hair still a mess from sleep, she flaps about her bedroom, her passport in one hand and her purse in the other. "I can't just leave," she says, staring at me from across the room, wide-eyed. "I can't just leave… can I?"
"Yes," I say, continuing to shove things into her bag. "So get your shit together and let's go."
She's still got her PJs on but her ugg boots are firmly on her feet and her bags are packed and so help me God if I have to shove her in the van myself, I will.
The sound of the car horn pierces the night air again – Edward is getting impatient. "Come on, Rosie, let's go!" I snap my fingers at her. "Get a wriggle on!"
But she doesn't move. "I can't," she says, shaking her head, watching as I desperately try to zip up her over-stuffed suitcase. "I can't just leave my brother and my job and my family and… actually, fuck my brother. But I can't just up and go to Rio." She stops, her eyes darting around the room. "Can I?"
Still thrumming with adrenaline, I grab her by the shoulders and shake her hard. "If you don't do this—" I continue to shake "—you'll regret it. It's now or never. Life is too short. Take the bull by the horns, all that bullshit. Just get in the fucking car."
With flushed cheeks and her blonde hair falling out of its ponytail and into her face, Rosalie stares back at me. "When did you get so wise?"
I glance at my bare wrist, cringing as I realise I've forgotten my watch. "About half an hour ago."
The sound of heavy footsteps echo down the hallway just as Rose stuffs her passport into her handbag and a beat later Edward appears in the doorway looking just as flustered as the two of us. "Sorry, ladies," he says, leaning over to kiss me quickly and tap me on the butt. "It's go-time."
And with that, he wraps his hands around Rosie's hips, tosses her over his shoulder, and we're off.
After two long, solid days of travelling, we land at Galeão International just as the sun rises, the day before the beginning of the Billabong Rio Pro. I'm tired and cranky, my neck is stiff from trying to sleep on the plane, and Edward will not stop smiling at me. I'm doing my best to return his enthusiasm, but the excitement of being in a new country disappeared somewhere between an eight-hour layover in Dubai and then a thirteen-hour flight beside Rosie, who snores like a freight train. I do my best to look happy, but I'm filthy and tired, and to be honest... I'm shitting bricks.
Rose hasn't said a word for the last few hours, and as we amble through the terminal the tension is practically rolling off her. I'm not sure if it's because she's just as stuffed as we are and on the brink of a shit fit, or if she's worried about surprising Emmett. Either way she's been a narky bitch for the past few hours, so the quieter she is the better.
Clutching my passport in one hand, and Edward's hand in the other, we shuffle through customs, no doubt looking bleary-eyed and rumpled. Once we're through, Edward stands at the luggage claim to wait for our bags while Rosie and I search for a bathroom to freshen up in.
After almost falling asleep on the toilet, I wash my hands and splash some water on my face. Forty-eight hours of travelling has done me no favours; my skin is blotchy and dry, and combined with the bags under my eyes and the limp messy hair, I look like a meth addict. I run my fingers through my knotty hair before tossing it up on top of my head with a hair tie. My teeth are furry and I'm pretty sure I have nasty sleep-breath, but since I was too rushed to think about packing a toothbrush in my carry-on, I have to settle with some chewy and a quick finger-brush.
"Holy shit," whispers Rosie beside me, staring at our haggard reflections in the mirror. "We're in Brazil."
My skin prickles with excitement and I smile at her, but for now that's all I can muster. "Fucking oath we are," I say with a nod. I only have the energy to sling an arm over her shoulder as we exit the bathroom, but even still, the knowledge that someone else is going through the same thing I am is a comfort—especially when that person is my best friend.
The airport is busy. I almost get knocked over by a woman and her rolling luggage, and we have to double back the way we came when Rose realises that we've taken a wrong turn somewhere. Finally, I spot Edward across the terminal. Our bags are at his feet and there are three or four teenagers in front of him, all a mess of nervous smiles as they offer hats and t-shirts for him to sign. I grab Rose by the hand and pull her into a magazine stand nearby, giving him some space.
Even from a distance I can see the exhaustion radiating off him, but nevertheless, he smiles for pictures and chats happily to the gaggle of young kids. Reconciling this guy with the one that I saw teaching a bunch of chubby nippers to swim is surreal; they seem like different people from different worlds.
Pretending to flip through a magazine, a sudden wave of uncertainty washes over me as I lift my eyes to watch Edward interact with his fans. Suddenly I can't help but wonder if I can fit into this world with him. If I'm built to be a part of something so different, so new, so vastly opposite from what I'm used to. My hands shake, and the dodgy airplane brekkie feels like it could have been a bad idea as it rolls around in my stomach.
I suck in a deep breath. Hold it. I hold it until my lungs ache and the nerves dissipate a little. I let the air out slowly, imagining all of my worries seeping out between my lips, evaporating into the air around me. Straightening, I pull my shoulders back.
No more being scared.
No more what ifs.
No more clinging to ideas of what my life "should" be.
Not only do I need to have faith in Edward to help me navigate this new world, I have to have faith in myself. I have to let go of the fear and embrace the fact that, for now, my life isn't planned or sorted, my future isn't set in stone. Who knows where this could lead.
"Chill out, Bella," I whisper under my breath. "You've got this."
With Rose back at my side, I make my way over just as the last kid scampers away, clutching the signed t-shirt in his hands. Edward spots me almost immediately, and it doesn't matter how bedraggled I think I look, how much of a mess I think I am, the way he looks at me makes every muscle in my body relax, and that tight feeling in my chest disappear. Looking at him looking at me, I know all the way down to the deepest parts of me that this was the right thing to do.
"You right?" he asks, reaching out his hand for mine.
I nod. "Yeah, I'm good."
A car is waiting for us out the front, and the feeling of warm summer air on my skin is enough to spark a little rush of excitement inside of me. A few minutes later we're bundled into the back seat and flying through the city, watching the colour and wonder of Rio de Janeiro whiz by.
The mood inside the car is quiet. Rosie is still on edge, and Edward is dog tired, and tired or not, I still can't believe that I'm riding in the back of a private car through the streets of Rio. Little old me, country-girl turned beach-bum Bella. It's beyond surreal.
When we arrive at the hotel the boys have been staying at, it's like Rosie's tension ramps up a notch. Even Edward notices.
"Will you stop freaking out?" he says to her quietly, lifting our bags from the boot of the taxi. "He's gonna flip out."
"You reckon?" says Rose, and I resist the urge to shake her again. Once is probably enough. "What if he freaks out and doesn't want me here? What if he-"
Edward rolls his eyes, his limit for emotional women at its peak. "Of course he wants you here. If he didn't think you'd say no, he'd have invited you ages ago."
"Really?"
Edward sighs, taking my hand in his. "Really. Now suck it up, princess. I didn't put up with your snoring for fourteen hours just so you can turn around and go home again."
Trust Edward not to mince words. And, really, it's what Rosie needed to hear. I watch her straighten her shoulders and lift her head, the Rosie Hale I know and love reappearing as she tightens her ponytail and picks up her backpack.
As luck would have it, in the end there's no time for nerves. As we're rolling through the front doors of the hotel, Emmett appears from the bank of lifts to our left. He stops dead, his eyes swivelling between me and Rosie and Edward and back again.
"Check out what I picked up in duty-free," jokes Edward, jerking his head toward the two of us.
Colour flushes Rosie's cheeks, and I can practically see the remaining anxiety evaporate from her body. "Hey," she says quietly.
The flip-flop of Emmett's thongs against his feet echoes around the hotel lobby as he strides over. I watch with a smile as his muscled arms wrap tightly around Rose, lifting her from the ground as she clings to him, and he to her. I can hear her whispering softly to him, her fingers tangled in the fabric of his t-shirt.
A moment later, Emmett lifts his head from Rosie's shoulder, his blue eyes locking onto Edward. "Thanks, bro," he says quietly, his eyes full of gratitude.
Edward shrugs, his mouth lifting a little, his eyes downcast. "All good."
We stand aside for a moment, letting Rosie and Emmett have their moment, but when it's clear that we don't really want to be around to watch them grope each other, I grab Edward with one hand and my bag with the other. "We'll leave you two to it."
Just as we're turning away, Emmett calls to Edward. "Hey, you might wanna call Marcus. He's spitting chips you left."
With a groan, Edward nods, his shoulders slumping a little more. "Yeah. I'll get on that."
I'm guessing Marcus, Edward's team manager, is less than impressed with his disappearing act. I feel bad for all of about a second, but then I remember that Edward flew across the world just to see me, and the guilt evaporates. The lift up to Edward's floor is quite possibly the longest ride ever. He spends the whole time staring at me, smiling. I'd say I'm getting sick of it, but it would be a flat-out lie. His smile, and the way his blue eyes linger on my body, holds promises of things that make my heart race and my skin flush. Plus, I'll never get tired of that smile, or any of the incarnations of the very same one he gave me that first day on the beach. Never.
We're a mess of hands and kisses before Edward even has the chance to close his hotel room door. "I can't believe you're here," he says, as I drop my bag at my feet.
I back up until my legs meet the bed, watching as he toes off his shoes and pulls his shirt up over his head, smiling at me the whole time. I flop onto the bed and all I can do is grin right back at him as I whip off my shirt and wriggle out of my jeans. Edward crawls onto the bed beside me, then leans over and kisses me slowly, like he has all the time in the world to do it. His skin is warm, and even though we both need a shower, all I want is him.
The bed is soft, with huge, fluffy pillows and soft, clean sheets, and after spending the last two days sleeping sitting up, it feels like heaven. My body relaxes and I sigh as Edward runs a warm hand across my stomach, fingers skimming the top of my underwear.
My skin still tingles, ignited by his touch, and I can't help but let my eyes drift closed, wondering if the feeling will ever stop, hoping it won't.
What feels like a moment later, I open my eyes as I feel the bed dip. A little disoriented and confused, I feel Edward's legs snuggle up against the back of mine, his arms snaking around my waist.
"Can't believe you're still asleep," he says quietly, his warm breath tickling the skin beneath my ear as he presses his face into the crook of my neck. I hear him inhale, and feel his arms tighten around me.
Asleep?
"I fell asleep?" My mouth is cotton-wool dry and my voice croaky.
I can feel his lips turn up into a smile against the back of my neck. "Yep."
"And we didn't…"
"Nope."
"What time is it?" I ask, curling my legs around his until we're pressed together like spoons.
"Like, three in the arvo."
"What?" I scoot away from Edward's arms, and blink the sleep from my eyes.
He rolls onto his back, tucking his hands beneath his head as I sit up. "Yeah. You've been out most of the day."
My head feels empty, like I've been tossed around in a tumble dryer, leaving me disoriented. I guess all the excitement caught up with me. Peering at Edward over my shoulder, I frown as I realise he's been up and about while I was asleep.
"Did you go for a surf?"
Edward nods, reaching for his phone. "Got a couple sets in. Saw Marcus."
"Oh, yeah? How'd that go?"
Edward cringes. "He did his nut. Threatened to chuck me off the tour."
I sit up taller, wide-eyed. "What?"
Somehow, Edward smiles. "Nah. He says it all the time. He'd never throw me off the tour."
My heart rate settles, and my muscles relax. "Oh. Good."
"I do have to be in the gym at four-thirty in the morning for the next week though." This time we both cringe.
As much as I want to be awake to get out and do things, the sight of Edward, half-dressed, his tanned skin standing out against the white bed sheets, makes me want to crawl back in and never get out. As if sensing my mood shift, Edward tosses his phone aside as I slip back beneath the covers, finding his warm skin with mine.
"Thought you were getting up," he says, sliding his hands around my hips before he pulls me on top of him.
Resting my arms by his head, I smile down at him. "I was thinking about it."
It still hasn't sunk in that he's here. Or that I'm here with him—in Rio. I need to keep reminding myself that he's not going to leave come sunrise. Well, he is – that needy blue bitch of his still has her claws sunk deep inside of him – but I know full well he'll come right back. For the first time in ages, I take a moment to really look at him. The way the ends of his hair have lightened with the perpetual summer sun, leaving them the colour of honey. The dusting of dark stubble across his jaw line. The dip at the curve of his shoulder where my head fits so well. He's so perfect, I can barely stand it.
Moving slowly, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the little constellation of freckles on his sternum. I smile as the smell and taste of his skin hits my senses. It amazes me that no matter how long he showers, no matter how long he goes between surfs, he'll always taste like the beach to me; like warm summer and salty ocean, with a hint of coconut Sex Wax.
I slide down further beneath the sheets and continue the trail of kisses downward until he's close enough to take into my mouth. As I roll my tongue around the head of him, his stomach flexes, and I feel his hips move slightly beneath my hands. When I push him deep to the back of my throat, the telltale sign of my own arousal begins to burn deep in my belly, an arousal only ignited further when Edward groans quietly.
"Not that I'm complaining," he says a minute or so later, lifting the sheet so that he can peer down at me with heavy-lidded blue eyes, "But if you keep going like that I'm going to – oh, fuck – I'm probably going to come in your mouth."
Releasing him for a moment, I rest my head on his thigh and smile up at him. His hips flex and his chest rises with a ragged breath as I take him in my hand. "How about you just let me worry about that?"
He grins, shrugging a little. "Just trying to be a gentleman."
Even though my skin is damp with sweat where we're wrapped around each other, I snuggle in closer, feeling that rush of excitement I get when I remember where I am. "If you could do anything right now, what would it be?"
Half asleep, Edward rolls his head to the side, a sleepy but satisfied look plastered across his features. "You mean other than a repeat of the last hour?"
I roll my eyes. "Obviously."
He stares up at the ceiling for a minute, humming as his fingers scratch up and down his chest absentmindedly.
"Okay," I interrupt, propping my head up against my hand so that I can look down at him. "Different question: what's your absolute perfect day?"
A serene smile breaks across his face and his hand stops mid-scratch.
"A deserted beach somewhere," he says. "Couple of boards, a break full of six-footers that bang all day, no stress, no cameras, no clocks—"
"No girlfriend?"
He rolls his head to the side and looks at me like I'm stupid. "It'd hardly be a perfect day without you, would it?"
Dropping my head to his shoulder, I sigh as soft fingers drift slowly along the dip in my spine. "It does sound perfect."
I wake half an hour later and, determined not to fall asleep again, get up and out of bed.
Edward yawns. "You wanna get some tea or something? I'm starving."
I open my mouth to respond, but my stomach beats me to it.
Edward throws his long legs over the side of the bed. "I'll take that as a yes."
After a quick shower, I chuck on a sundress and shove on a pair of thongs. I fluff my hair a bit, trying to get it to sit right, and then slap some lip gloss on, too. Just as I'm about to finish, I decide to put on some mascara and perfume as well. Edward, on the other hand, exchanges one t-shirt for another and sits on the bed, waiting for me to finish.
Outside, the sun is beginning to set, casting the entire coast in a bright pink-orange haze. We walk hand in hand past beachside resorts with exotic-looking restaurants and open air cafes. We keep walking until we find somewhere small and bustling with locals. Edward recognizes a few people as we enter—a French surfer and his wife; a couple of the US surfers and their teams—but rather than socialise, we sneak into a corner and spend the night eating whatever the waiter puts in front of us. Empanada. Feijoada. Something with beef mince and spices that makes my mouth burn and my lips tingle. By nine-thirty I'm buzzed on Cachaça and cold beer, my skin is flushed, and my neck is damp with the humidity.
"You going to come to Fiji with me next week?" asks Edward, polishing off the last of the bread.
I laugh, feeling pink-cheeked and fuzzy with all the alcohol. "Probably."
Edward smiles a clear, wide smile, all glittery eyes and perfect teeth. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," I say, finding myself a little surprised at my answer. "Maybe California, too."
His eyes widen and he sits forward a little. "Really?"
"Really!" I answer with a laugh. "You promised me Disneyland, remember?"
Grinning, Edward looks down, watching his finger draw lines in the breadcrumbs on the tablecloth. "I remember." And then he falls silent, staring intently at the tabletop.
"You all right?" I ask, tilting my head a little, contemplating Edward's sudden silence.
"Edward?"
Finally, he lifts his head, his grey-blue eyes filled with something so fierce it makes me heartbeat falter and my head spin. "Why'd you change your mind?"
Around us, the noise of the restaurant rises, and suddenly the alcohol swirling in my head makes me feel restless, like I can't pin down a thought properly. "I guess…" I sit up straighter, fidgeting, fumbling with the hemline of my dress. I swallow down the nerves and try to push through the fog in my brain that tends to appear when things get a little heavy.
"I've always been afraid of letting go," I say, looking down at my hands in my lap. "Of drifting through life and ending up somewhere I don't want to be. I guess I just realized that where I want to be is with you – wherever you are."
Edward slips his cap off his head and runs his hand over his hair a few times before putting it back on, silent the whole time. "And what if I keep competing? You gonna come with me or…"
"Well… for now, yeah. I mean, after everything that happened with Embry and his cancer—" Edward's expression flinches almost imperceptibly "—you know how short life is. How quickly things can change." My head clears as I feel everything click into place, my own understanding of the choices I've made taking shape in my heart. "I'm not saying I'm going to follow you forever, but right now I can't imagine sitting at home while you travel the world. Letting you go again would be…" My breath halts a little as something in my chest twists painfully. "I couldn't do it."
"Yeah, but…" Edward's cheeks flush a little, and he frowns. "You wouldn't have to wait for me, Bella. I'm not that much of an ass. I get that this—" he gestures to the restaurant around him "—isn't what every girl wants: hotels and touring buses, months away from home and dealing with my self-important bullshit all the time. What about what you want?"
Sighing, I scoot my chair around the table until I'm right beside him. "I know that some other girls wouldn't want this, but I don't know if you realise this—I'm not other girls. I'm your girl. And what I want is you, and everything that comes with you."
"Even if it means—"
"Even if it means following you from here to God knows where and back, Edward, I'd do it in a heartbeat. And it's not going to be easy—you're going to have to help me deal with my self-doubt and my crushing inability to make decisions. You're going to have to let me bitch and whinge when I'm tired of surfing and jetlag, and you're probably going to have to help me buy a decent fucking surfboard so that I don't get left on the beach all the time. But I will follow you anywhere you go, because I love you and I want to be with you. That's it. There's no backing out for me now. "
I sit up straight in my chair, my back rigid, holding my head high as my nerves twist inside. I wait for him to say something. Ignoring the guests around us, Edward leans forward slowly to plant a kiss on me that leaves me breathless and wanting, the kind of kiss that warms me from the inside, settling my nerves and calming the race of my heart until I'm sure it's stopped beating altogether.
"I love you," he whispers, his mouth so close to mine that I feel the words warm my lips. He reaches beneath the table to weave his fingers through mine. "Thank you for coming with me. You won't regret it, I promise."
I smile, tugging on the end of his cap. "I know."
The next morning is the first day of competition and, after being up since four a.m., Edward wakes me at stupid o'clock and ushers me into a waiting van. Emmett and Rose sit quietly in the front while Edward and I share the back seat. The ride to the beach is quiet, and I'm loath to break the silence. Emmett has a set of headphones on, and I can hear the music blasting into his ears from my seat behind him. Edward, meanwhile, is sitting calmly beside me, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was asleep. The regular deep breaths and the constant tap-tap of his finger against his leg are what give him away. I've not been beside Edward pre-comp, and I can't help but be infected by the nerves and excitement.
When I slide a hand across the seat and slip my fingers into his, he turns his head and opens his eyes.
A version of my favourite smile, the one that tilts his mouth to one side, spreads across his face, and he presses the back of my hand to his lips before closing his eyes again.
Ten minutes later, as we begin the climb down the hill toward the beach, Edward sits up, straightening in his seat. I watch as he switches from the Edward I know to competitive Edward. His eyes harden, and his face sets into a determined expression. The finger that was softly tapping against his knee has turned into both hands tapping a staccato rhythm against both knees. To some, he might look on edge, but to me he just looks excited.
"You good?" I ask, nudging him gently.
The drumming of his fingers stills, and he turns to me, nodding.
The van pulls to a stop, and just as I'm about to step out, Edward squeezes my hand, holding me in place.
"You ready for this?" he asks, blue eyes steely beneath the peak of his cap.
And in that moment I know he's not talking about the competition. He's asking me if this is it.
If I'm all in.
And right then, I'm back in Clearwater, sitting out past the breakers, paddling, paddling, paddling, waiting for the perfect wave. It feels as if I've been waiting forever, but this is it. It's never going to get more perfect that this.
Like trying to catch the perfect set, sometimes you just have to jump on and ride it out. I don't know what the future holds. For me. For Edward. For us. But, for once, the uncertainty doesn't bother me. Because no matter what I do or where I go, I know that I'm strong and capable, and that beside me is a guy who grounds me, who reminds me that life doesn't need to be hard, that life is what you make it.
With a gentle squeeze of his hand, I nod. "I'm ready."
Chewy - chewing gum
Get a wriggle on - Just means hurry up. I'm not sure why you need to wriggle.
"..did his nut." - Got angry.
Endless thanks to MagTwi for helping me out of my funk, and to Wednesday_in_LA for still agreeing to beta even though she had every right to say "Who are you again?"
There's an epi to come in the next few days.
x Wink