A/N: Hi, everybody! I want to thank the amazing eeyorefan12 for her invaluable input into this story, and thank you to the lovely gabby1017 for pre-reading. I love them both.
And thank you for reading, my reader friends. I love hearing your thoughts.
TO THE LIGHT
CHAPTER 34
When Angela picks me up the next morning, I'm so anxious to see Edward again that I forget to scan the vicinity for my mother until I'm getting into the car.
We murmur hellos and it grows quiet, just the background music playing softly. I'm thankful that Angela seems to get me and understands my need for privacy.
Peeling my gloves off of my sweaty palms, I clear my throat for the fourth time.
"Is everything okay?" Angela asks. "Are you getting sick?"
An odd sputter of laughter tumbles from my lips. "No, it's just..." I ball my hands into fists. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and Angela doesn't miss it.
"He's very handsome," she says.
I turn my head sharply towards her, and she laughs. "I have eyes, Bella, and that man is incredibly attractive."
"I haven't seen him in two days."
"And you're nervous? Excited?"
"A little of both."
"I'll bet he feels the same way."
She parks in the garage, and I stumble out of her car. I lose my grip on my bag, and it drops with a thud to the concrete. "Oh no," I mumble and then cringe as I quickly open it and check my lunch items. I blow out a breath when I see they're still intact, and the pecan pie is not damaged.
As we exit the garage and round the corner, I inhale sharply when I practically run straight into Edward. He's right here in front of me, not down by my building. He steps close and everything disappears: Angela, the buildings, the people crowding the sidewalk, the icy weather.
I see only him.
"Hi," he says softly, his long lashes blinking slowly, his soft, ivy eyes moving along the contours of my face. I drink in the sight of him, letting my gaze wander as I register the smile on his lips and his smooth, scraped jaw. His black beanie has longish hair peeking out, and his brown leather bomber looks like it survived World War II. He briefly nods at Angela, but his eyes barely leave my face.
My heart races, and I unwillingly drag my eyes from him to Angela. She smiles knowingly before walking away.
The freezing air kicks up between us, blowing strands of my hair across my face. Before I can react, Edward reaches his gloved hand out and slowly pushes it back, his fingers trailing along my cheekbone. He runs his hand along the length of my hair as he pushes it back across my shoulders. My eyes slide shut as tingling ripples of goosed flesh spread from my scalp downward over the length of my spine.
His gloved hand finds my cheek again, his thumb rubbing delicately along my skin. Someone brushes past me, breaking the spell, and I finally open my eyes.
We start walking toward the bank building, and it's so crowded that we keep bumping arms. Each time, my skin seems to burn beneath my coat.
"Are we still on for our date?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice.
I have to clear my throat to get it going. "Yes."
"I've never been asked out before," he says.
My lips curve. "I know that's a lie."
"How come?"
"Because."
Surely the man owns a mirror.
"Well, then let me rephrase that. I've never before been asked out by the woman of my dreams."
I cough briefly, choking on nothing but his words.
"You okay?" he asks, and I hold up my hand to signal that I am.
"Good," he says, nodding and looking quite pleased with himself. "I can't wait. I'll see you at noon."
He walks away, and I just stand there in a daze. I stand there so long I'm almost late for work. I have to scurry to put my things away, and I'm a flustered mess by the time I get to my station.
"Looky!"
A doll flops in front of me as eight little fingers curl over the edge of my station. Two big blue eyes pop up beneath a mass of dark curls. "Do you wike her?"
I pick up the worn doll with black smudges on her cheeks where pink rouge used to be. The blue gingham dress is frayed at the edges with a few strings dangling. "You mean her?" I ask and the mass of curls nods enthusiastically. "Oh, I like her a lot. Does she have a name?"
"Her name's Bessie."
"Oh, that's a beautiful name." I mouth "lollipop?" to her mother and she nods. "Do you think Bessie would like a lollipop?"
"She only wikes the wed ones."
"Oh, well, I only like the red ones, too. How about I give Bessie two of them and maybe she can give one to you. What do you think?"
I hear her giggle, and my heart warms as I watch her and her mother walk away.
When the clock clicks twelve, I quickly gather my things. A knot of nervousness forms in my stomach as I head toward the lobby. I spot Edward immediately, standing off to the side.
"Hi."
"Hi."
His eyes brush over my face, and I feel his gaze like a feathery touch.
"He stepped down," he says softly, "trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."
My heart flutters, and my breath rushes out. "What?"
"Leo Tolstoy. Anna Karenina."
My eyes drop to his boots, and my face heats like the sun.
"You look so lovely right now."
Shaking my head, a nervous laugh slips from my lips as I press my free hand to my cheek.
He chuckles. "I'll stop embarrassing you because I'm starving," he announces. "Got food?"
I laugh away my nerves. "I do got food."
"I was so excited about our date that I forgot to unlock the front door to the bookstore this morning," he says playfully. "You've become quite a nuisance in my life. My business might go under because of you."
I laugh again and can't stop smiling; apparently, neither can he. "Let's get this date started," he says as he rubs his hands together in anticipation.
I lead him to a free seat near the water feature in the center of the lobby. He slips off his beanie and coat and fiddles for a moment with his disobedient hair. I pull out a container and hand it to him.
"Chicken salad?" I ask nervously.
"Love it," he says as he reaches for the box. It holds a sandwich cut in triangles and some potato chips. I also pass him a bottled water.
I remove the lid on mine and place it underneath the container before re-arranging the sandwich. I need to start a conversation, but instead, I begin organizing my chips according to size.
"This is delicious."
Do it. It's now or never.
"Thank you. Where do you live?" pops out of my mouth. It sounds almost accusatory.
Edward glances up, gesturing with his hand for me to wait a moment as he tries to swallow quickly.
I'm still embarrassed at how awkwardly I approached this. "I mean, uh, I don't know a lot about you. I was just wondering ... where you live."
He wipes his mouth with a napkin and gives me that crooked smile.
"Do you know where Keystone and Meridian is on the east side?"
"No."
I'm on the west side. I knew he didn't live near me.
"Well, I have an apartment in an old industrial—"
"Edward Masen?" a female voice calls loudly, and it startles me so much that my food in my container almost slides off my lap. "The Edward Masen? That's you, right? I can't believe this!"
My eyes dart to where the noise is coming from. The young woman looks like a giant from where I'm sitting. She's wearing a full-length brown coat with a thick, fur collar and has a cute Kate Moss face.
Perplexed, my eyes focus on Edward's. His narrow, staying fixed on the woman as a vertical wrinkle forms between his eyebrows.
"I am one of your biggest fans," she continues in a rush. "I followed your band all over town for like two or three years, and then you just disappeared."
His eyes flick to me briefly before he nervously clears his throat. "I, uh, took a break."
"A break? You can't take a break—you guys were so amazing," she says as she rummages in her purse and comes up with her phone. "Well, I have to get a selfie."
I'm looking at Edward again, and his expression is apprehensive and almost annoyed. He stands, and his 'fan' quickly wraps her arm around him. She snaps a few shots before turning to me. "Will you take some, too? My friends will so not believe this."
"No, a selfie is enough," Edward interjects.
"Please?" she begs. "Just one more picture? It'll only take a second."
Edward gives me an apologetic look. Frowning, I set my container to the side, reach for the phone, and stand up. She shows me which button to push, and the phone feels heavy in my hand as I step back some distance from them and lift it clumsily. An ill-at-ease feeling comes over me. The image of Edward and this complete stranger hanging onto him comes into focus, and I watch as she snuggles into him like she knows him personally, intimately, like he's her lover or something.
Her face glows, and Edward's half-smile looks forced and distressed. As I stare at the two of them on the screen, I wonder which of them is more of a stranger.