Chapter Seven

I cooked up some lasagna and let it sit in the oven until Edward came home from work. When I heard his car door slam shut, I was watching a rerun of some funny show on the TV. It was just past seven and dark outside, so the light in the kitchen was illuminating the pathway to the back of the house.

"Hi," I breathed, heating up the oven again as Edward walked through the door. His eyes were tired and he looked like he could use a pick-me-up.

"Hi ba—B," be greeted me, taking off his unlaced work boots and leaving them at the door.

He walked over to me and held out his arms, making his wishes known. I didn't think anything of it, because if I admitted it to myself, I really longed to feel his body against mine as well. Edward took me into his arms, his warmth immediately making me want to cling onto him even harder. His hands stroked my lower back, along the sliver of bare skin uncovered by the fabric of my soft cotton sweatshirt. I felt my body come alive under his touch.

We ate dinner at the little round kitchen table while sharing some funny stories. As always, conversation flowed easily between us, making me feel happy and at ease. Edward told me how sweet it was of me to come over today at work and treat my mom to some of her favorite food. I snickered, silently hoping what he meant to say was, that he found it sweet. But those words never came; they shouldn't anyway since we were both officially dating other people. Shitty people, yes, but dating nonetheless.

"I'm stuffed, B. This lasagna was incredible, thank you so much. I haven't eaten this good in a while now," he said, patting his stomach.

"Irina never cooks for you?" I blurted out, secretly fist-bumping myself for being able to Stepford-wife it up for a man if I wanted to.

"Nah, she's not much of a chef. Or a girlfriend, for that matter. She's actually coming over tomorrow. I'm ending things officially."

He shook his head, the muscles in his bare arms tensing up slightly.

My eyes widened.

"Talk about dropping a bomb," I muttered as I stood up to clear the table.

"None of that, sit your ass down, B. I've got this."

"I don't even think she sees us as exclusive anymore. She's just fucking with me, screwing around behind my back. And I just don't love her, you know?"

I nodded because sadly, I knew exactly how it was.

"Did you ever love her?" I wondered.

"I think I did at some point. But it was the first longer-term relationship I had in a fucking long time, and I just got annoyed with her after a while."

"Maybe you got annoyed because she's a pain in the ass."

It slipped from my mouth faster than I anticipated, but instead of defending the blonde beauty, he threw his head back in laughter.

"Don't I know it. That's why I'm drawing the line here. It's over, B. I can't take her nonsense anymore."

"I'll make sure I'm out of your hair then, tomorrow. I can go stay at my mom's or something."

"None of that either. I'm gonna park your car in the garage and close the door. Then you're just going to stay in my bedroom until the psycho leaves and that's that. She won't be here long anyway."

He let out a deep sigh, his eyes distant and tired.

"I'd rather do this whole thing on the phone, but I know that's a dickhead move. So instead of lowering myself to her level, I'm going to act like the adult I am and treat her with the respect she never shows me."

Edward cleaned up the kitchen and then disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. He told me to pick out a movie, already apologizing to me in advance should he pass out on the couch halfway through.

I could smell his body wash wafting through the air even though the bathroom door was closed. The scent was amazing, and I tried to stop myself from picturing him there as the water ran down his built body, caressing his skin.

Edward got back from his shower, his mood deteriorated and his expression glum. I wondered what had happened, but decided it would be best if I didn't meddle with his feelings. What could possibly have happened during a ten-minute shower that got him this pissed off?

"Screw this, let's drink."

He shut the door to the hallway with a loud bang, making me jump slightly. His hair was still a little damp, creating little spots on his grey shirt as the water dripped down onto it.

I watched Edward walk over his liquor cabinet, retrieving a barely-touched bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses.

"No ice, no anything?" I joked, sitting up straight as he basically threw down the glass on the coffee table.

"No ice, no. I'm done being a pussy, so I need it straight-up."

Edward sounded aggravated. Last night he'd been there for me and it looked like today it was my turn to return the favor.

"Why the hell do you think you're being a pussy?"

"Because I can't look at myself and see anything else but a failure, a wimp and a liar," he practically spit.

Wow.

"Edward, come on. What's wrong?" I tried, but he didn't seem to be in a sharing mood.

Edward poured two glasses to the brim, on the brink of overflowing. He handed me one and downed his own in one go. I stared at him with wide eyes.

When he set the shot glass back onto the table, he gazed at me, one brow up questioning me silently.

I downed the glass and swallowed, coughing as the unfamiliar burn tickled my throat.

"Did you just giggle at me?" I narrowed my eyes at the gorgeous yet clearly pained man in front of me. If only he wasn't this closed off.

"I'm a guy, B. I didn't giggle, I merely chuckled," he explained dramatically, filling up our glasses again.

The room was pretty much silent, except for the faint noise coming through the sound system speakers. I didn't know what show was on TV, and I also didn't really care.

"Oh, I know you're a guy. Don't worry," I blurted out.

"You should, you stare at me more than is healthy, sweetheart."

I felt my face heat up at his remark.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

My stomach began to churn uncomfortably. God, I wished the earth would swallow me whole.

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll let you guess how I noticed, B."