*Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight
Last Chapter:
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"Hey." I close the dishwasher. "Do you work tonight?"
"No," he says. "Do you want to do something?"
"Yes." I melt right where I stand. He'll have to scoop me off the floor because, for real? "Can you though? You have that dinner thing, right?" I don't know why I'm asking this instead of just taking him and running far far away?
"What dinner thing?" he asks.
"With Tanya's family?" I'm starting to question my own reality. "Is that not a thing? She was talking about it with her friends, and Heidi said that you sometimes have these dinner parties." I cringe as I imagine her all dressed up as if she's there to court him or something along with whatever elaborate scheme she has planned.
Edward groans. "No. I mean, yeah. That's a thing, but it's not my thing. I don't need to be here for that. We can go somewhere."
"Okay," I say, because yes, he shouldn't be there with her and her ill intentions. He should be somewhere else with me and whatever intentions mine may be.
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Chapter 19:
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"Wait." Alice looks at me through my phone screen as she scrutinizes my look for the millionth time in the last half hour. "Let's try your hair down again."
I pull the elastic out of my hair and shake it out.
"Are you sure you don't have any tops that are off the shoulder?" she asks.
I try to make my hair lie flat as I tell her, "No, Alice, and even if I did, it's cold."
"Pshh! Like Cullen is going to let you be cold. Hello, body heat."
I don't have time to ponder that. My long-sleeved, sort-of-silky, borderline lowcut black top will have to do. The doorbell rings, and both our eyes widen. "Alice, what do I do?"
She calls out mascara as if she's telling me to grab a fire extinguisher. I look at my cosmetics. Logically, I know what mascara is, but for the life of me, I can't see it. "Purple tube, Bella. Purple tube."
Once I have the tube, Alice walks me through how to apply it, as if she's teaching me how to tie my shoes.
"I know. I know. I'm not completely useless." Somehow, I manage to swipe it along my lashes without making a mess.
"Okay," she says. "Deep breath. You've got this." She blows me a kiss, and as cutesy as it is, I return the gesture before I hang up.
I grab my Converse from my closet and head downstairs, not wanting to leave Edward alone with my dad longer than I already have. When I get to the living room, they are looking at my dad's sports memorabilia. Edward is acting interested, and maybe he is, but he's acting as if he hasn't already seen all of it when he most definitely has.
"Hey," I say to Edward, and sit on the couch.
"Hey," he says, as he turns toward the sound of my voice.
"I'm almost ready," I tell him as I pull on my right shoe.
"Okay, whenever is fine." He smiles and turns back to my dad, who still has so much to show him.
It's a sight to see him here with my dad. There's a collar on Edward's shirt, which is a style that I've never seen him wear. I also can't tell if his hair is just wet or if he's put some sort of product in it. He looks really good, like always. If he wasn't also wearing jeans, I'd feel underdressed. I know my dad is proud of his collection, but I've never seen him show it off like this to anyone.
"Come check out what I've got in here," my dad says as he heads toward the kitchen.
I tuck my laces into my left shoe instead of tying it because what the heck? There's absolutely nothing to show off in our kitchen. When Edward glances back at me, his confused expression shows exactly how I feel.
I shrug and mouth, "I don't know."
I follow after them and, in my hurry, my left shoe slips off. I hear the freezer door open before I'm even in sight of it, and I can't help laughing.
My dad's eyes narrow at me. "Don't you start."
I lean back against the counter, fixing my shoe, while he pulls out a bent-up, frozen fish that he crammed into the freezer months ago.
"Nice," Edward says, the admiration in his tone natural. "Are you going to grill it up or—"
"Actually," I say as I push off from the counter and walk toward them. "This one's so nice we're hoping to get it stuffed and mounted."
Edward laughs, and even though my dad is glaring at me, there's a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"And don't even worry," I add. "He caught this when it was still in season. I promise."
My dad closes the freezer behind him way harder than necessary. "Would you get out of here?"
"I'm trying." I don't know what comes over me, but when we leave, I hug my dad and whisper, "Thanks for acting semi-normal."
His hand is light against my back. "Anytime."
As I lead Edward toward the door, we say goodbye to my dad, who says, "Have fun, but don't forget school tomorrow."
I take a few steps backward. "Right. I'll be back by nine."
He purses his lips. "Ten to ten-thirty would be all right."
I smile and catch Edward's eye.
"Oh, and Edward," My dad calls after us.
I hold my breath as Edward turns to face him. We'd been doing so well so far.
I'm expecting him to make some sort of fatherly threat or words of caution, but my dad lifts his head in a half-nod. "Some buddies of mine host a fish fry every month or so. You can try it sometime."
I look at Edward to see if I need to get him out of this. My dad just kind of sort of asked him to hang out. I'm about to answer for him, but Edward says, "Yeah, that'd be cool. Thanks."
It feels as if I'm in some sort of alternate universe as the door closes behind us.
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Maybe I still have some bad memories about being the girl in Cullen's front seat and being dropped off at home when I thought he was trying to spend more time with me, but they disappear from my mind when the doors close, and a new scent fills my nose.
I lean forward and try to determine if it's him or the car that smells like this. It's him—definitely him and something new he's sprayed.
"Is it okay?" he asks.
I sit back in my seat and reach for my seatbelt. "Yeah, I like it."
"Okay, good." He nods. "That wasn't so bad in there with your dad." His knee bounces some.
"No? Were you scared?"
"No…maybe… Just a little bit." He shows me about an inch with his thumb and index finger.
I squeeze his arm. He's super cute in his shyness. "You don't have to go to the fish fry. He just gets obsessed with things like that."
"I don't mind," he says.
"Okay." As he backs out of my driveway, I ask, "Everything okay with your mom?"
He glances my way, giving me an exaggerated eye roll. "She's such a spaz sometimes. She'll get over it."
"I hope so." I hold my hand over the air vent, feeling the pressure from the air as it hits my hands.
"Are you cold?"
I drop my hands to my lap, realizing just how antsy I'm acting. "No, just nervous, I guess."
He laughs in a kind of half-spurt of sound as his eyebrows scrunch and his look of amusement soon turns into confusion. "Why?"
I try to shrug it off, but he keeps looking at me whenever possible. When he takes my hand, nudges my thigh, and asks me again, I sigh.
"I don't know what we're doing." I hear the double meaning as soon as I say it, so I fix it. "Like where are we going?"
"Port Angeles."
I nod, but as we drive, I fidget in my seat and squeeze his hand.
"Babe?" he asks, squeezing my hand right back.
"Sorry." I don't know what's come over me. "I don't think I've ever done this before, officially, like a date that wasn't a group thing or just hanging out, nothing that was specifically called a date." The closest I've ever come to a date was when I thought he was going to take me to breakfast after the first night we spent together. That didn't turn out so well.
"Yeah? Huh. I guess me either."
We exchange shy smiles, and as a tinge of pink appears on his cheeks, I feel our nerves as they mingle together and give way to an antsy excitement.
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"You sure this is okay?" he asks as he pulls into the lot.
"Definitely." I nod. "It's kind of perfect."
We've ended up at the Italian restaurant he'd mentioned back when we'd discussed our favorite foods. He seemed pretty set on something on the waterfront as his dad had suggested, but the options seemed either too formal for how we're dressed or too casual for what he had in mind.
He seems resigned, so I squeeze his bicep as I say, "I love it. I promise."
His muscle flexes under my touch. He hesitates before leaning over the console. I consider not meeting him halfway, paying him back for his teasing almost-kisses from the other day, but I don't want to do that to him, and I definitely don't want to do that to me.
Our nerves don't get in the way of the series of perfect moments. We share a few lingering kisses, before he rounds the car to meet me just as I close the door. He takes my hand, our fingers entwine, and we have the biggest smiles as we head inside.
He manages to open the restaurant door and hold it open for me without letting go of my hand. The place is quiet. By now, the diner back in Forks is likely filling up with the usual dinner crowd, but it's a weekday and Port Angeles isn't Forks. There are several restaurants to choose from in the area.
This place is nicer than any I can recall ever being in. I don't feel underdressed, but I could have dressed up and still fit in. The staff is uniformed in black slacks, white button-ups, and ties. There are maroon cloth napkins and wine glasses already adorning the tables, but when the host leads us to our seats, he snatches them off the table before returning with water cups. He holds one hand behind his back as he pours water from a metal pitcher.
Ice clanks along with the soft melody that's playing. The lights are dim, and the flames of tea light candles dance above pooling wax.
Our server introduces herself, but I don't hear her name. She says something to which Edward responds, but me, I just nod. I'm too caught up in everything. It's this place. It's him, reaching across the table to take my hand back in his. It's as if someone wanted to create an image where they could say, this is what romance looks like—what it feels like, and here I am, living it.
A drink is set in front of me, but I don't know what it is. I take a sip. It's sparkling lemonade. I lean forward, and ask Edward, "Did I order this?"
He laughs, as he nods and squeezes where our fingers are intertwined. "Do you want something else?"
"No, this is good." I take another sip. I glance at the menu, so that I don't end up agreeing to whatever food I'm offered. I don't know why I'm looking. I already know what I'm getting. Maybe some other time, I can explore the options and see if there's something I want to try. After his attempts to get his mom to make spaghetti on Bella Tuesdays, how can I not?
"So, what's new?" He lets go of my hand, as he reaches for the basket of bread that has appeared at our table.
I'm at a loss as to what to say. I talk to him so often, I feel as if I already tell him everything. "I have to go to Phoenix." I take the bread he offers.
His eyes bulge. "Forever?"
I shake my head. "No. Not forever. Just to see my mom."
"For how long?" he asks, traces of worry still etched on his brow.
I separate the crust from the bread. "I don't know. A weekend maybe. It might be a week, if we wait until winter break."
He nods. "Excited?"
I shrug and eat a strip of bread crust. I've never minded going back to Phoenix. I never looked forward to it either, but looking at Edward, even if the trip is going to be short, I'd rather be here.
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On the drive back to Forks, Edward drives as much as he can while holding my hand.
"How do you think it's going at your house?" I ask, cringing at the thought of him being there.
"I don't know," Edward says. "Hopefully they're gone. If I know they're coming over, I leave, but I think my mom was trying to trick me with this one."
A shiver runs through me. "I'm happy we did this instead. Tanya at your house seems scary. She's probably naked, hiding in your closet right now, and waiting for you to go home and find her." I gasp. "Would she do that? Has she ever?"
"No." Edward lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"Maybe not in your closet. She's too bold to hide. She probably just takes off her clothes and lays on your bed. She probably takes pictures too, so she has proof."
"Does she now?" Edward asks, laughing now for real.
"I don't know. Does she?"
"No." He looks over his shoulder before changing lanes. "I don't think she even knows where my room is."
"What does she do then? If she's at your house, she's got to be doing something."
"I told you that I usually leave, but if I get stuck there, she messes around on her phone the whole time. That girl does not like me."
I sigh, struggling to imagine that being true.
He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a kiss against the back of it. "You want to go home or go talk somewhere?"
I glance at the time. We have a while before I need to be back. "Talk."
"Good, because all this about that girl being naked at my house is making me sick. I need something new to fill my head."
"Like what?" I ask as he pulls into the parking lot of a small park near our school.
He just shrugs, but I can tell that he has something in mind. I can feel it. It starts with a twitch in my knees and moves up until it's a quiver in my thighs.
He turns off the ignition and turns my way. "You're the one with all the ideas. Tell me something."
I unfasten my seatbelt, pulling my knee onto the seat as I turn to face him. "You're going to have to give me some direction here. I don't come up with these things off the top of my head."
His brows rise as he presses on the overhead light, illuminating us as the sun sets. "All that stuff you think that blonde girl is planning isn't off the top of your head?"
I turn away, as a blush flames across my cheeks. "Well yeah, maybe, but I don't know what you want to hear."
He takes my hand and pulls it into his lap. "Anything would honestly be better than that."
"Yeah, nothing worse than that, huh?"
He chuckles as he plays with my fingers. "Well, I guess I can think of worse."
"Yeah? What?" I ask.
His nose scrunches up. "Like if that blonde girl had her friends with her in this bedroom scenario of yours, that'd be worse." He presses the back of my hand and the heel of his other palm against his closed eyelids. "Maybe we should stop with the visuals of other girls."
I laugh at his disgusted expression, but I don't like these images either. "Really? It seems like a lot of guys would like those visuals."
He leaves my hand against his cheek, while his moves down my outstretched arm. "I don't."
"What do you like?" I ask as the tender touch of his fingers tickles the inside of my elbow.
"You."
We both lean in, or maybe I pull his face toward me, but as our lips connect, his tongue is caressing mine, and in an instant, I'm lost in the feeling of it.
"So much better," he says as his hand makes its way down to grip my hip.
"I've been in your room too, so maybe you could just conjure up that image," I offer. I don't voice the naked part, but I hope it's implied. "Or has it been too long to remember?"
"Not too long," he says and kisses me again.
It doesn't matter what he's just said about it not being too long ago because I have this deep-rooted need to change how long it's been. My fingers curl in his hair and my chest juts forward, seeking the feeling of him pressed against it. His hand moves down from my hip with his thumb pressing on my inner thigh before he moves it down a few inches, as if he didn't mean to touch where he did. I want him to move it back. I want to keep kissing and have his hands wander where they may, instead of sticking to safer zones.
As I anticipate what it would feel like if he did slide his hand back up higher, my knee lifts like I'm trying to help him reach where I'd like him. My kissing falters as I realize I could only be more obvious if I grabbed his hand and moved it back up my thigh.
It wouldn't be such a bad thing to show him what I like, but he stops kissing me, moves back a few inches, and looks in my eyes. His hand squeezes that place he's settled mid-thigh. "Did you ever think about it before?" he asks as we catch our breath. "Not these ideas you have about what other girls do, but like…what you would do? I mean before the whole lap thing at Mike's."
I straighten out the mess I've made of his hair. "Like if I ever thought to mess with you before like others do?"
He nods. "You know, the whole cracking thing," he says.
I internally cringe at that word. Somehow, it's become taboo. The fact that a label has been created at all is extreme, and I don't like to say it.
"No," I say with certainty. "I never considered that, and that was not what I was doing. I was… I don't know what I was doing exactly, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't that, at least not purposely. I'm not the kind of person that would ever…but I saw you there and you were easy for me to talk to and it just came out. I mean, no one is easy for me to talk to, so I just went for it. I really would have just guarded you though, I swear. It just didn't work out like that."
"Okay." He looks out the front window with a serious expression, as if my reassurance that I wouldn't have done that isn't what he was trying to hear. "It was just something I used to wonder about."
"You would wonder if I had ever thought of a ploy to crack you?"
He shrugs. "I'd wonder if anyone would even go along with whatever their scheme was if I said yes, but I wasn't ever going to find out…unless…you know, it was you. I'm pretty sure ninety percent of the girls in Forks had already tried to get me to do something by the time you talked to me."
When he says things like this, I don't know how to connect this girl he's talking about to me. I'm her, but how? "Why me?"
He laughs, but it's the airy, nervous one, so I lean forward and kiss his jaw, lingering there because he smells the way he does. Clearing my head, I ask again. "Why?"
He licks his lips before he says, "Everyone here messed with me because I was new, and when you moved here, I was just, like, really aware of you."
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Yeah, but so was everyone else."
"Because I was new, like you said. You never tried to talk to me though. I might have thought you were different."
The corner of his mouth twitches. "Why?" he asks, while tilting his head as he mimics my earlier question.
I tuck my lips in, remembering Alice giving me the rundown of who was who when I first moved here. "Because I knew you wouldn't give anyone the time of day." I sound like I'm trying to convince myself as much as I am him, but hey, it's plausible.
He shakes his head. "I felt like a hypocrite with the whole being new thing, and then you had a boyfriend, so…"
I lift my shoulder and refrain from letting air leave my mouth in a huff. Everything seems to come back to this boyfriend I once had.
"But I was going to talk to you at Mike's party," he says. "At least I was going to try, but it seemed like you were there with Crowley, so I went back upstairs."
I stare at him, unsure how to react. Sure, I was supposed to be there with Alice and Rose, but the night turned into me going rogue, trying to find my place in a world I never quite fit in. "That's not—"
"No, I know."
I nod, wondering if I should say something more about it. Hanging out with Tyler wasn't a big deal, but I didn't dislike him, not like I dislike Mike. Tyler was okay aside from the on-again-off-again girlfriend he seems to always go back to, but that was in a world pre-Edward Cullen. Now, Tyler Crowley isn't even someone that I'd contemplate.
"So," he says.
"So," I repeat, the air in the car fills with an awkward pressure.
"That virginity thing you said the other day, that was Jake, right?" He tilts his head, so his hair falls away from his eyes.
I nod even though this is the last thing I want to talk about.
"Why'd you break up?" he asks as his hair falls forward.
I push back his hair, letting the feel of it between my fingers ground me to where I am and not let me be shrouded in regrets of what's already been. "We were better friends."
He leans into my hand with a visible relaxation before his eyebrows scrunch, and he says, "Wait, you're friends, but then why don't you go to La Push?"
My hand falls away from his hair. "We were friends before, but not now. We ruined it. Anyway, what about you? Before Mike's party, it was just the one time for me, but you obviously had experiences before that."
He shakes his head, as if what I'm saying isn't true, but then he says, "You're the only one that counts though."
"I don't think it works that way."
His jaw sets as I wait for him to say something. His fingers wrap around the steering wheel, as if he's going to steer us somewhere else before he says, "If you need a number, it's two, but they couldn't even get my name right, so they don't matter."
"Wow!" I move my nails back and forth on his forearm.
He just kind of shrugs. "It's whatever. I mean, it sucked back then. I thought I was going to have to change my name to Sam or never have sex again, but with you, it's not like that, so I just don't think they need to count."
"For sure." I nod. I'd thought my experience was horrible, but I can't imagine dealing with being with someone and having them call me the wrong name. "They don't need to count, and we don't have to count my one time before either."
He agrees, and now we're both on the same page, but then something he said hits me, and all air leaves the car. I get out of the car before closing the door behind me and walking away.
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Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I've gone back to school and didn't do well with getting into a new routine last semester. Let's hope this one goes better. Also, I didn't want to leave off with only half the date, so the next chapter is ready to post next Wednesday.
Thanks so much to YourVixen for prereading and dazzled eyes22 for betaing! You both help me so much!
Thanks everyone who read. I've fallen way behind on review replies, but I'll do my best to reply to everyone soon.