A/N: Yeah, I still exist. I've been so blocked, damn. Worst one I've had in an age. Ugh, but no matter how badly I get at updating, I will always finish what I start. The Friend Zone is my only exception. I did finish it, but then lost it a few dead computers ago. Don't be me; back up all chapters. Anywho, rambling, this chapter is not edited. Kim's sick and can't get to it right away. I was going to wait, but then realised how long it'd been since my last update. I got antsy.
I hope you enjoy. I feel like this chapter is kinda sorta wordy, and Bella is really beginning to soften. It was a fine balance to give her that without her losing who she is. Jesus, I'll shut up.
**ETA*** this chapter is now edited. Thanks, Kim. Love ya. Feel better soon.
Black Swan
Chapter 32
"So," Edward begins, rolling his body to the side of the bed to face me, "did you have these as a human?" He places his fingertips lightly to the top of my right breast. As relaxed as he is, though, it's obvious he's still apprehensive. I'm sure he expects me to swat his hand away and break his bones in the process, but I don't.
"Nope, strictly an A-cup," I answer, unable to hold off my smile. I only grew a single cup size, but it's one facet of my transformation that I've never begrudged. As a human, I was barely a step up from being flat-chested.
My bra size isn't the cause of my secret amusement, however. It's this boy in my arms. He's utterly adorable, and why it completely escaped my attention before now remains a mystery. He's overly heated and hopelessly sweaty, and the fact that not only am I able to tolerate it, but am, in fact, enjoying the sensation of it against my cool skin, is even more of one.
"Let me get this straight. One, you get liposuction; two, a nose job"—he counts with his fingers, with his pinkie-finger first, and for reasons unknown, I find it inexplicably endearing—"three, a facelift, and...four, a boob job, too?"
Reaching out, I curl his hand into a fist, leaving his index-finger free. "One, we become the perfect predators," I correct him. "How else am I going to reel in all that juicy testosterone?"
"You don't need it, though," he surmises, momentarily breaking eye-contact. "Your speed and strength... It shouldn't matter what you look like."
"It shouldn't," I agree with a small, nonchalant shrug. "Consider it a perk. No one should have to spend eternity hideously-looking."
He breaks into that grin of his, but it's fleeting. "You weren't hideous."
"You're not thinking with your brain right now, bucko," I tease him, grabbing his chin and shaking it playfully. Oddly enough, it doesn't bother me that he knows what I looked like before my close encounter with Carlisle. It's one of those curiosities that passed fairly quickly for me when it comes to him. One of many, I should add.
He groans only half beneath his breath, and drops his face to the curve of my neck. "I wish you'd stop calling me bucko," he complains, flooding me in his sultry breath and bringing me right back to the edge.
I close my eyes and push the beast back even as I long to set it free.
Sex with a human is not supposed to be like it was. At least, it's never been that way prior to him. I was on top. I didn't last five seconds with him hot and heavy over me. As it turns out, it was better that way. For Edward's overall safety, anyway. I kept my fists clamped around the bedcoverings and my knees firmly propped against the mattress as I facilitated his movement within me. I only removed a hand to touch him once; I placed my fingers to his lips after he repeatedly asked me whether he was hurting me. He actually put that question to me not once, but four times.
I shushed him, my voice barely emitting a sound as I fought the two deep-seated, juxtaposing sides of me; to surrender to the energy amassing within me—the energy he constantly draws from me—and to remain in control so I wouldn't hurt him.
I came close several times, but I didn't bite him, and that surprises me more than his longevity. Human boys are lucky to last two minutes, but Edward went for close to thirty. And by the time that release finally overtook him, I was certain it wasn't without some kind of physical damage. I felt the magnitude and intensity of it as it left him and it left me surprisingly dumbstruck. It's not something that's inherent in humans, and I quickly realized why. While he no longer has an addiction to my blood, it's still as eternal as I am, and it will forever exist within him. It's significantly enhanced his senses, his strength and endurance.
For too long after, he was a gasping, twitching mess, and just as I grew concerned, he began to recover. "Holy shit, Bella," he uttered when words returned to him. "That was fucking amazing."
He thinks it was all me who brought that out in him, and in a sense it was.
"Stop pouting," I reply, forcing my thoughts back to the present moment, but it's all I can do not to plant my lips repeatedly to every square inch of his naked body. This is despite the fact he's reeking with the scent of salt and other body fluids I don't really want to focus on. Fluids that I allowed invade my body. He needs a shower. So do I. "You want to have a bath?"
He raises his head to meet my gaze and cocks a single brow. "With you?"
I sigh softly to myself, even as the smile remains on the edges of my lips. "Who else would you suppose?"
He grins and half shakes his head. "I wish I knew getting you between the sheets was all I needed to do to get you to loosen up. I would've done it the first day."
My expression quickly mirrors the playful shrewdness of his. "And how would you have managed that?"
"Charmed you with this handsome face." He points to his nose, breaking into soft-sounding laughter as my eyebrows immediately shoot up skeptically.
"It wasn't your face that charmed me." I lean in closer to whisper in his ear before quickly pulling back to briefly kiss his lips. "God, you smell way too primitive." The scent of him once again floods my nostrils and I practically groan in response.
"Primitive?" he echoes, quirking that brow, on the verge of laughter again.
"Yes, primitive," I repeat, before easing myself out from beneath him and pulling myself to my feet.
The moment I'm upright, gravity takes over and those fluids of his begin to ooze down the inside of my thighs. "Oh god," I mutter, fighting to hold off the full-bodied shudder I can feel building in the pit of my stomach.
"What?" Edward asks, his expression quirked with curiosity, after he pulled his long, lean body from the bed beside me, boyish smile in tow.
"Shower first."
. . .
I settle myself against Edward in the large claw-footed bath and suppress the moan that threatens to escape me. The water's hot, and the combined sensation of my back against Edward's firm chest and equally, soft pliable skin is indescribable.
He snakes his arms around me, his thumbs grazing the skin of my breasts, partially covered in the foam of the rose-scented bubble bath. "So, I've made a decision," he murmurs against my earlobe.
"Hmm?" I ask behind closed eyes as I tune my senses in to him; on the beat of his heart and the rush of blood pulsating at multiple surface arteries throughout his body.
I'll miss not only the taste of his blood, but the scent of it on his skin, his hair, and his clothes. On me, most of all.
"I'm going to feed from humans. Like you."
I know he's being earnest, serious even, but I'm still forced to hold back my laughter. I'm not successful and it comes out a lot more patronizing than I intended.
"What?" he asks with a small huff.
"Edward, there isn't a vampire in existence who was born with the desire to feed from animals," I explain, keeping my tone soft and responsive.
"Oh..." He appears suddenly reflective, before adding, "Then I'm not going to force myself to feed from animals."
"Good," I reply satisfied. I definitely do not want a mate who cannot correlate with my dietary choices.
"Feed from me," he states, changing tangents on a dime like he so often does. "I want you to do that to me one more time before we leave." There's a rustic edge to his voice as that organ beneath me steadily expands.
"That was all you, bucko, not me," I reply, smiling slightly to myself.
"Bucko..." He sighs. "Bella..."
"Will you stop complaining?" I wrap my arms around his and expel a humming breath. "There's no hurry."
He tightens his hold around me, and closing my eyes, I allow myself to go almost fluid against him.
"Bella…?" he breaks the momentary silence that settles over us.
"Hmm?"
"Will I still want to...have sex with you after I'm turned?"
There's a hesitancy behind his question, and on impulse, I turn my head to meet his eyes. "Why wouldn't you?"
He holds my gaze only for a few seconds before his darts around the room. "Emmett said all I'll be able to think about is feeding," he admits in a mumble.
With a small, inward sigh, I turn back, my attention oddly focusing on his bent knees on either side of me. "You will, but blood will do a lot more than just satiate your hunger," I allude.
"What will it do?"
His curiosity is almost childlike, immediately bringing the smile back to my lips. "What does my blood do to you?"
"Makes me horny," he answers candidly, a discernible grit behind his voice. "And almost...I don't know. Invincible?" he puts the question back to me.
"It will still do that, only on a plane you'll never understand as a human."
"Huh? I mean—"
"Think of it as foreplay."
"Hmm...Does animal blood give you the same reaction?"
"Not nearly as much."
"So why the hell does your family...?" He shakes his head and abandons it. "Never mind."
"Carlisle believes the longer we feed from humans the more we'll lose what's left of our humanity," I answer regardless.
"Do you believe that?" He angles his head and rests his lips to my temple.
"No. Killing humans...is another matter, though," I add in a small voice. I know from experience, after all.
"You... Bella?" he asks, after evidently second-guessing himself.
"Yeah?"
"You only kill evil people, right?" There's an innocence to his question. A vulnerability perhaps, as though a lot's riding on my answer.
"I…do now," I admit, clearing my throat, distracted. Edward has a way of making me feel exposed. Or in the very least, making me confront certain aspects about myself I'd rather not.
"Who was the last person you killed?" His arms tighten around me again, but it's different; it's as though he's subconsciously restraining me. Or consciously for all I know, since this boy likes to forget what I am.
"You know who they were," I reply, closing my eyes again and releasing an inevitable breath. Edward and his incessant questions.
"James." It's a statement this time.
"Hmm."
"How'd..." he begins before again discarding it.
"How'd I kill him?" It's not hard to guess.
"Yeah. I mean—"
"I broke a lot of his bones," I cut in before he can talk himself out of it again, "and then I healed him and broke them again. Then, because I too quickly grow bored with torturing humans, I took all my blood back, broke his neck and dropped him in the bay."
His breath draws, and by the volume behind it, he made an effort to keep it from me. "Jesus," he mutters.
"I played with him for a few days leading up to it, though," I add with a secretive smile. That part I enjoyed.
"Yeah, I bet you did," he says almost ruefully. "He deserved it, though."
"Are you just saying that because it makes it easier for you to reconcile with it?" I angle my head to meet his eyes, and this time he doesn't shy away from me.
"No," he says, shaking his head to further reiterate it. "He—do you ever feel bad for killing them?" he quickly changes course away from his cousin.
"I feel bad about only one," I reply truthfully.
"Yeah?"
It's obvious he wants to know more, and after taking an almost wearied breath, I oblige him. "It was the day I almost killed you—"
"Which time?" he teases wryly.
"The first time," I say, squeezing his arm playfully. "You were the first human I'd intended to kill but...let live. I thought I was growing a conscience. At least, I wanted to believe that's what it was. So, that night, I went to Port Angeles and found the most harmless human I could. I killed him and felt nothing. At first, anyway. I feel bad about it now."
Not nearly as bad as I should according to Mommy Dearest.
"Did you feed from him?"
"No. I'd just glutted myself on you. I wasn't hungry."
"You feel bad, so you did grow a conscience," he notes the obvious, bringing it to my attention.
"Evidently." I sigh.
"Is that what I do to you?" He's hesitant again, making me wonder exactly how horrifically I've treated him. I'm not sure I want to know.
"Yes. You...make me want to be...more. Better," I conclude.
"So...I tamed the bloodthirsty vampire," he mumbles teasingly against my ear.
"You did more than just that," I reply, more or less beneath my breath, "but it took me a long time to work you out. You're good at pretences."
"I learned to play the game. I had to." He shrugs, and he constantly speaks of his life in past tense now; as if it's already over,
"You surprised me, and very few humans do," I acknowledge.
. . .
"Are you sure about this?" Carlisle asks the question directed at me, and while his tone is sedate, there's an edge of relief on his expression.
"Positive."
The moment Edward and I returned home, I called a family meeting. My mind is made; I no longer want to wait to turn him.
We assemble at the dining table as usual. Esme actually set it as though she were preparing a Sunday roast. I'm sure his spouse is the reason why Carlisle believes animal blood preserves a vampire's humanity. My mother's the embodiment of a 1950's housewife.
"Edward?" Carlisle turns his attention to my mate beside me. "Are you in agreement?"
Edward nods, grabbing my hand tightly beneath the table as he does. "Yes."
"See, told you all we needed to do was get them in the sack," Emmett adds with a snicker.
"Shut up, you doofus," I complain, convinced I'm about to blush before turning to Rose to check her mate. Her smirk is as blatant as his.
Sighing, I turn my attention back to my father. "We're running away together," I quote with my fingers, "so needless to say, we're not returning to school."
"Are you sure that's the best course of action, Bella?" Carlisle objects; something I was expecting. "With only a few months left, it would be out of character for both of you."
"Then what do you suggest?" I ask, rubbing my brow and becoming agitated. I didn't come to this decision lightly, and I'm getting anxious to get it over with. If I were human, I'm sure I'd be physically ill with the knowledge of what Edward's about to go through.
"You and Edward have an accident," he begins, when I groan out loud. It's how most vampire's human lives end, but there's a process. A process that will take time.
Technology in the vampire world is at least fifty years ahead of the humans. We have the ability to create exact replicas of the human body in the form of 3D printing. These imitations are what's usually presented to grieving families and consequently buried. Synthetic bodies that will decompose as if they really were made of human flesh. It's an art that's been perfected over the last century, and with the influence our kind high up in every facet of the human world, anything relating to the turning of a human is readily explained and covered up where need be. We are nothing if not meticulous; we have to be.
"How long?" I ask, dropping my head into my palm.
"I can have you and Edward scanned tomorrow," he explains as Edward turns to me in confusion.
"Scanned?" he echoes.
"Your parents will want a body to bury, sweetheart," Esme explains on my behalf, her voice overly gentle and soothing. She buried a child herself, so I understand her sentiment behind it.
"Oh," Edward mumbles, half nodding, but the confusion on his face is evident.
"Another funeral," Rose laments, expelling a very deliberate breath.
"Barbie doesn't like to wear black," I respond to Edward's raised brow, rolling my eyes at the ad nauseam of Rose's vanity.
"It washes me out," she retorts, sniffing indignantly.
"You look hot in black," Emmett assures his mate, and this time, I snort.
"Bella," Carlisle once again draws my attention, "you need to make a conscious effort to stop shielding Edward. We need to be alert now more than ever."
Conceding, I allow my shield to fall from around him before turning to Alice. "See anything?"
Alice's expression almost immediately turns vacant as a notable frown knots her brow. "He's going to be...strong," she whispers.
"Yeah?" Edward pipes up, straightening his shoulders, more than satisfied with the idea.
"Stronger than me?" Emmett asks, scoffing to himself, because clearly he doesn't think such a thing is possible.
"Very...strong," is all Alice says, becoming increasingly troubled.
"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle prompts her.
"Carlisle, he's...I mean, I think he's going to have Bella's gift, as well." She lightly shakes her head as though she can't make sense of her own vision.
"What?" I say blankly. "He's going to be a shield?"
"Bella will more than likely be the one shielding him," Rose states the obvious.
"No..." Alice shakes her head again, slower this time. "Carlisle, do vampires share gifts with their singers?"
Carlisle is quiet for several moments, his head tilted to the side in contemplation. "It's entirely possible," is his conclusion.
"Amazing!" Esme exclaims, clasping her hands together.
"It's because of Bella's blood," Jasper speaks up in that eternally staid voice of his. "He's starting out stronger than most humans because of it. That's where his strength will come from."
"Have you fed him your blood since he's been fully tapered, Bella?" Carlisle suddenly interrogates me, the intent behind his tone clear. I'm sure he means to crucify me if I have, and I'm not sure if I have the right to be offended by him.
"Of course, I haven't."
"Have you taken his?" he stays on path.
"None of your business," I say a little too defensively.
"That means yes," Emmett adds, his expression remaining annoyingly suggestive.
"I don't mind. It makes her warm," Edward attempts to justify, which makes even Rose crack a smile.
"T.M.I, Edward," she says, her amusement open.
"Oh...yeah..." He turns to me, his expression sheepish, but with a wave of my hand, I let it go.
"So, we're scanned tomorrow, and Tuesday we turn him?" I put to Carlisle, eager for something concrete. I'm hopeful. And perhaps naïve.
"It might take a further few days to organize," Carlisle informs me of what he knows I don't want to hear.
"How many?" I demand, less than impressed, but it's futile getting frustrated over it. There's a process...
"He'll be turned before the weekend," he assures me. "Edward," his eyes dart to the left of me where Edward sits with his clammy hand wrapped around mine, "are you sure about this? You don't want to wait?"
Edward's shaking his head before Carlisle can finish. "No, I'm positive. Just...how long will it take?" His voice loses volume. I turn my head toward him just as he swallows thickly.
He's nervous. He should be.
"It's different for each person, but with Bella's blood already in your veins, it should help expedite the process." Carlisle deliberately sugar-coats it, because we all know no matter how long it takes, becoming a vampire will be the most excruciating agony a human will ever experience.
No exception.
. . .
We travel to Seattle to be scanned several hours before dawn the next morning. Carlisle accompanies us, driving his midnight blue Merc with Edward and I relegated to the back seat. He informed Aro of Edward's imminent transformation the night before. Aro knows of Edward's gift; he's already seen it from Jane. He spoke to me directly, requesting he meet Edward as soon as he's turned.
"If you release Jane, I'll consider it," was my reply as Carlisle immediately snatched the phone from my hand.
If I said I wasn't concerned by Aro's interest in Edward, I'd be lying. He's going to be immensely strong and powerfully telepathic, so it stands to reason that any coven would want to acquire him. Edward himself is indifferent about it, but is practically buzzing with the knowledge that he's living his last days as a human. Not to mention, he's smugger than the proverbial cat who ate the canary at the prospect of being as strong as Emmett.
I'm not completely averse to the idea, but it's not exactly something I can admit.
This boy and his pride.
Being scanned for 3D printing is not a lot different from a human having an MRI scan. It's probably what most humans think is taking place behind the innocuous-looking fog-glassed door with a sign that reads "Pathology". If ever they come across it at all, at least. The entire four-story building on 1109 Broadway is owned by our kind. Built in the 1970s with a façade of brick and glass, there is nothing remarkable about it and is presented as everyday commercial office space, so needless to say, humans don't tend to ever purposely make their way inside.
The procedure requires you to be stripped completely naked; something Edward is immediately uncomfortable with. It doesn't help that the Imaging Technologist, a female immortal red-head, takes an immediate liking to him.
She notices my glare and instantly averts her eyes, but Edward still requires further encouragement. He's shy; it's something else that surprises me, because as a human his body is near perfect. I'm unsure why he's not already aware of it.
The entire process is over within forty-minutes, and after, Carlisle—at his mate's instruction—frustratingly drives us back to school. Esme strictly vetoed another day off, and we arrive just after eleven am.
I walk into hell, with the entire student body of Forks High School aware of my pregnancy.
I become conscious of it almost immediately. Lauren Mallory unfortunately shares a locker close to mine, and as I was collecting my text books for the day, she walked past me and rose her voice for the obvious benefit of everyone in the near vicinity, "I knew there was a reason she had Edward so whipped."
I slam the door of my locker closed, contemplating creative ways to kill her, at the very least breaking her other arm, when Frizz Perm suddenly places herself in my line of sight.
"So, congratulations, Bella. When are you due?" she asks, her obvious curiosity clearly overshadowing how overjoyed she is over my predicament.
"What?" I snap between clenched teeth.
"Is that why you were late to school? Did you have an ultrasound?" she continues on unaware of how dangerously close to death she really is.
"Come here," I order her with deathly calm, motioning with my index finger, but before she can take a single step, Edward practically collides with me by the speed he was running.
"Babe, not in your condition," he says out of breath, his gaze slightly manic and silently pleading with me.
"What?" I echo, unsure who I'm about to murder; my mate or this repulsive human who's still presently staring at us, animated eyes wide.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he appeals to me, lowering his voice, "my mother told her friends, and..." He doesn't elaborate, but then he doesn't exactly need to.
"Jesus Christ!" I burst, making him jump in his skin. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be, keto stick?" I address Acne Perm, my composure crumbling the longer this insipid human remains close by.
Bowing her head, her wayward hair falling over her acne-affliction, she quickly scurries down the hall away from us.
I huff, turning my attention back to Edward and arching a very derisive brow.
Despite his sheepish grin, he opens his mouth to no doubt continue to apologize but I'm in no mood for it.
"What did you just call me, by the way?" My question confuses him, for a moment anyway.
"Um...babe?"
"Okay, that stops right now. What are we?—characters from a Judy Blume novel?"
"...A what novel?"
"Ugh," I utter, turning and heading to class without another word or backward glance.
"I love you, Bella," he calls after me.
I don't turn back to acknowledge him, but God help me, I'm forced to fight the urge to grin the entire way to third period.
The next hour is torture, and challenges my self-control more than I ever thought was possible.
The humans gossip about me through every second of it, accompanied by typical, banal questions they're unaware I'm just as privy to.
"She doesn't look pregnant."
"Wonder how long they'll last?"
"Reckon it's Edward's?"
"Is she going to have it?"
"What did her parents say?"
"Did you hear they're getting married?"
Lauren Mallory is at the thick of it, adding her own degradable conspiracies, and my resolve to kill her—to kill her slowly—is all but cemented.
"The last person I killed?" I remind Edward as he appears from the crowds and wraps his arm around my shoulders as we head to the cafeteria. "It's about to be amended."
"Who...?" He glances futilely over his shoulder.
"You know who," I fume. "You'd better get me out of here before the final bell," I warn him, and I'm deadly serious. I'm unsure how much more ridicule I'll be able to withstand before there's bloodshed.
"If you puke blood again, that should get you out of—OW!" he hollers, silencing the scores of humans around us. "Jesus, why—"
"What part of any of this is funny?"
"It's not." He doesn't sound the least bit remorseful as he holds up his hand and rotates his wrist in a slow clockwise motion.
"You're fine," I assure him, making a concerted effort not to roll my eyes. I now understand the meaning of man flu; I just wasn't aware it extended to most things where males are concerned. Still, I do feel somewhat guilty for taking my frustration out on him. "I'm sorry," I concede, because I am.
"S'ok," he bends down to speak warmly against my ear before planting his lips to my brow.
My smile impulsively resurfaces and I practically melt against his side. I'm behaving like a lovelorn teenager; I hardly recognize myself.
Inevitably, it lasts only as long as it takes for us to reach the cafeteria, where all the attention directed at me is concentrated to a single room.
"Not a word!" I pre-emptively threaten Emmett from the wisecracks I know he's been waiting all morning to unleash on me.
"What?" he feigns innocence, unable to hold back his smirk.
"I'm not even close to kidding!—Rose?" I look to her to pull her mate into line as I yank the chair out to our usual lunch table and practically throw myself into it.
"You're skating on thin ice, lover," Rose addresses him, but she's obviously humoring me.
"I hate you both!" I grumble as Rose makes a poorly executed effort to cough back her amusement. "And you most of all!" I say to Edward, but we both know I'm not serious, and in response, he offers up that sunny smile of his.
Mine begrudgingly follows.
"So," Edward begins, turning his chair around and sitting on it, his forearms resting against its back, his long legs on either side, "what can I call you?"
"Call me?" I repeat uncertain of his meaning. I'm grateful for the distraction, though. As the lunch room fills, conversation regarding my state of being steadily resumes.
"You said I can't call you babe," he refreshes my memory, "so what can I call you?"
"...Darling," I decide after a moment or two of deliberation.
"Darling?" he echoes dubiously.
"It's what my parents call each other," I point out with a light-hearted shrug.
"And your parents are how old?" he puts to me in some kind of emphasis.
"And your point is?" I imitate his tone.
He breaks into a grin and quickly changes course. "Can I tell everyone it's a boy?"
I scrutinize him for several long seconds unsure I'll ever be able to comprehend him. "Shall I buy you a puppy?"
His laughter breaks softly through his nose. "I figured I might as well have some fun with it."
"Why?" I ask suspiciously.
"All the guys think he's whipped, that's why," Emmett pipes up just as Edward unleashes his pride on my highly amused brother.
He grabs Emmett in a clumsy headlock, while my brother sits, completely unaffected, smug grin intact. Even Rose is amused by it, until the table jolts from their antics and threatens to spill her "lunch" all over her. It's enough to sever her patience.
"You forgotten Bella's condition, boys?" And despite her current annoyance, the edges of her lips twitch discreetly.
"I'll kill you." My threat's empty; she scoffs.
Emmett reluctantly releases Edward before reaching out to dishevel his already chaotic head of hair. I realize the instant Edward's turned, I'm going to have to take him away before my brother steals him from me.
"It's not so much that everyone thinks I got you pregnant," Edward explains when he's able to catch his breath. His face is red from exertion, his hot, circulating blood quickly permeating the air, "but that...they know I slept with you."
"...What?" I'm fairly certain I'm at a loss for words with him.
"I like that they know." He's so forthright it's downright adorable, but he's still completely and utterly exasperating.
"Oh my God!" I huff, before turning back to Rose. "Was Emmett like this?"
"For the first fifteen years at least."
"Ed man, as soon as you're turned, we're going to test that strength of yours." Emmett winks, planting his elbow on the table and flexing his bicep. His muscles bulge and practically tear through his shirt, which was exactly his intention.
His vanity often rivals his mate's.
"Deal," Edward readily accepts his challenge, and if I'm being honest, I'm curious to know who'll come out on top.
My money? It's on my human.
A/N: Yeah? No? Thanks for reading and hopefully the next chapter won't take as long.
