Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright
infringement is intended.
AN: Inspired by an idea from roxiegirl. Pam, I hope you enjoy your story. Dedicated to the sweet memory of Fangirlin Granma Dee Creston—your reviews always brought a smile to my face. I miss you.
Much love to my beta, KJ, and thanks to Gail, Diane, and K for pre-reading.
The sound of Bella tapping her pencil along the edge of the table joined the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights. "So...Angela is taking me to the Junkyard for my birthday."
"Hmm?" I paused from my reading and stretched my back. Looking across the table, I met the nervous eyes of my best friend.
"Angela," she repeated, picking imaginary lint from her sleeve. "She's taking me to the Junkyard for my birthday."
"The Junkyard?" I frowned, bewildered by her statement. "What are you talking about?"
"It's..." She stopped and chewed on her bottom lip. "It's...a strip club."
My brow wrinkled. I must have misunderstood because there was no way Bella would step foot in one of those establishments. Unable to digest her words, I asked, "Are you serious?"
Her cheeks flushed scarlet as she nodded. "I guess the entire gang's going. They wanted to do something special for my twenty-first."
"And a strip bar is what they consider special?" My voice cracked, louder than I intended. Grinding my teeth, I thought about Angela. Bella had only been friends with her for a brief time, and Angela was already becoming a bad influence.
"Edward!" she scolded, peeking around the library. "Be quiet. Someone might hear you." Squirming in her chair, she hid behind her hair.
"Sorry." I shrugged, then pushed my glasses up my nose. A strange ache radiated throughout my chest at the thought of Bella surrounded by naked men. It was as if a burning sensation pumped through my veins with every beat of my heart. Tugging on my earlobe, I swallowed several times before speaking. "I just didn't think you were into that kind of thing." With an exasperated huff, I crossed my arms.
Bella's hard stare bored into me like two heat-seeking missiles. "You don't think I'm into what, Edward? Men? Well, I can assure you I am—even if you don't expect me to be."
My mouth gaped open like a fish on a hook at her outburst. What did she mean—even if I didn't expect her to be? And why did she seem so angry? None of this made sense. I'd known Bella for the past four years—ever since freshman year. Neither one of us had really dated in all that time. We were both too devoted to our studies—too busy working toward our future goals to waste time on activities such as frat parties. I always thought Bella shared the same views about college relationships as me—they were pointless. Everybody our age was about hook-ups and meaningless sex. Sure, I got horny like anyone else, but I always figured I would find the right person after I graduated and settled into my career. Maybe Bella didn't share my views after all. Pinching my nose, I leaned forward. "I-I don't understand."
She stood and gathered her books, placing them in her worn, leather backpack. Straightening her stance, she exhaled. "And that's exactly the problem." With her bag flung over her shoulder, she turned and headed toward the exit.
More confused than before, I slumped in my seat as I tried to figure out why Bella was so upset.
The next day, Bella didn't show up for our regular study session. At first, I figured she was running late, but after a half-hour had passed, I started to feel unsettled. Over the past four years, Bella had only missed one of our appointments, and that was only because of a nasty bout with the flu. She had been perfectly healthy yesterday—well, perhaps a bit moody—but healthy. Unable to concentrate on my work, I messaged her as I watched the library entrance with bated breath. When she never arrived or answered any of my texts, the tight knot of worry in my stomach bloomed into all-out panic. After two long hours of waiting, I grabbed my stuff and made my way to her dorm.
Located across campus, Melton Hall was a living-learning community for math majors. Not only did Bella reside in the dormitory, but most of her classes met in the building. By the time I got to the hall, the glow of sunset was slowly fading, and classes were finished for the day. After I hopped on the elevator, I pushed the button for the sixth floor. Once I arrived, I rushed to Bella's door and knocked. I thumped four times without getting a response. Pulling out my phone, I called her but only reached her voicemail. I rubbed my temples before sliding to the floor beside her door. It looked as if I had no choice but to wait. Retrieving my textbook from my bag, I attempted to make use of my time and continued my homework—reading about anomalous diffusion of particles and energy. However, thoughts of Bella consumed me, making my ability to focus impossible. Every few minutes, I checked my watch, wondering where she could be and if she was all right. My imagination raced with possibilities. Was she in an accident? Did someone hurt her? Was she unconscious in a hospital? Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as worst-case scenarios plagued me.
When my watch ticked past ten p.m., I paced the hallway and contemplated calling the campus police. Just as I passed the stairwell, the door opened, and Bella appeared with her friend Angela.
"Edward, what are you doing here?" Wide-eyed, she stared at me—her left hand full of shopping bags.
"Bella!" I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her close. Burying my nose in her hair, I inhaled her soft, lavender scent. She was home. She was okay.
"Edward?" she questioned softly. Her warm breath brushed my cheek.
Snapping out of my daze, I stepped back. My face deepened to a scowl. "You scared the shit out of me."
Bella tilted her head in confusion. Angela cleared her throat. "Um, it appears as if you're busy." She gestured toward the elevator. "I'll head on home."
Bella gave her an apologetic smile. "Thanks for your help today." She lifted one of her bags in the air. "I suppose I'll see you Friday after class."
"Rose and I will be here at five to help with your hair and makeup. You gotta look smoking hot on your big night!" She placed a quick kiss on Bella's cheek and said hello to me before jogging down the corridor.
As I watched Angela enter the elevator, I shook my head. Why would she suggest Bella needed to look smoking hot on Friday? And why did she think Bella needed makeup or any of that other shit to look good, anyway? I turned and gazed at Bella as she unlocked her door. Her hair fell in long waves around her shoulders, and pale freckles laid across her nose. I always knew she was lovely, but it felt as if I just realized how beautiful my best friend truly was.
"Edward?" She snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Are you coming inside?"
"Um, yeah." I went into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She tossed her bags on a chair and turned in my direction.
"So—what's up? What are you doing here so late?"
My mind remained focused on what Angela had said. I yanked my hair. "What did Angela mean about Friday?"
She sighed and sat next to me. "I told you already—the girls are taking me out for my birthday."
The strip club. An empty, painful hole formed in the pit of my stomach. Worried about Bella's whereabouts, I had forgotten about her birthday outing. "You're still going?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I?" Rubbing a palm against her thigh, she exhaled. "And you've never explained why you're here."
I stood and ran my hand across my jaw. Even after all this time, she still didn't remember our appointment? Hurt and frustration flooded my body. "I'm here because I was worried about you. You never showed up for our study session."
A soft gasp escaped her. She paled, leaping to her feet. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I forgot to text you."
My anger diminished. I couldn't be upset when she was obviously so remorseful. "Where were you? You never miss our sessions."
"Angela and Jessica took me shopping to get a dress for my birthday." She gestured to the bags. "Do you want to see it?" Hope sparkled in her eyes. "I'd love your opinion. I'm not sure about it, you know, because I never really wear dresses."
I wasn't certain why she wanted my opinion, but there wasn't a chance in hell I would say no—not when she was so excited. "Okay, I guess."
Her entire face lit up with a smile. "Great. I'll run to the bathroom and change." She grabbed something from a bag and left. While she was gone, I walked around her room and looked at the books and photos on her shelf. Even though she was a math major, Bella adored the classics and owned every book written by Austen and the Bronte sisters. I picked up a collage of pictures I hadn't noticed before and was surprised to discover they were of the two of us. There were photographs from the three-legged race at freshman orientation, a ski trip Bella took with my family last Christmas, and a fishing competition I entered with her and her father Charlie during the summer of our sophomore year. I chuckled as I remembered how I lodged the fish hook in my thumb and passed out while we were in the middle of the lake. Charlie threw a bucket of water over my head then told me to "grow a pair."
At the sound of the door opening, I turned around, only to become frozen at the sight before me. Skin. Bella's skin. The sleeveless, midnight blue dress dipped dangerously low, exposing the top swells of her breasts. The hem of the garment fell at least five inches above her knees, making her legs appear even longer. I yearned to touch her as my eyes lingered on her curves. Desperate to know if her skin felt as smooth as it looked, I itched to run my fingers along her delicate collarbone.
"Well? Aren't you going to say anything? Do I look awful?" She twisted a loose curl and chewed on her bottom lip.
At the thought of her wearing such a garment anywhere—especially at a place like a strip club, I nearly blew a gasket. Suddenly, I felt dizzy. Bending forward, I placed my head between my knees and took a few deep breaths. Several moments later, I met her anxious gaze. My nostrils flared. "You seriously aren't considering wearing that...that… thing out in public, are you?"
She stomped over and poked me in the chest. "I most certainly am. What business is it of yours? Last time I checked, you weren't my father."
My mouth fell open."I never said I was, but I'm sure Charlie would agree with me on this one." I gestured toward her body. "That scrap of material is hardly a dress." Throwing my hands up in surrender, I said, "But if you feel it's okay to go out dressed like a slut—more power to you."
As soon as I said the words, I regretted them, but before I had time to apologize, Bella broke down in tears and marched to the door, flinging it open. "Get out!" she shouted with a sob.
"Bella—"
She put her hand up. "I don't want to hear another word from you." Wiping her cheek, she added, "I thought you were my best friend, but a best friend would never say what you just did."
"Bella—" I repeated, reaching out to grasp her wrist.
She stepped away and looked me straight in the eyes. Her gaze was blank...empty. "I'm not telling you again. Get the fuck out of my room."
When I returned to my dorm, my roommate Jasper sat at his desk, typing on his laptop and eating pizza. "Hey. Want a slice?"
Even though I hadn't eaten dinner, the thought of food made my stomach revolt. Crashing on my bed face first, I said, "No. I just want to die."
He twisted around in his chair and laughed. "Jeez, Edward. Why are you being such a drama queen?"
Sitting, I sighed. "Because I completely screwed up my relationship with Bella."
He snorted. "I find that hard to believe. You two are thicker than my Granma Dee's chicken gravy," he joked in his deep Southern accent.
"Not after what I said tonight." I buried my head in my hands and groaned as I recalled the devastated expression on Bella's face.
"What did you say?"
"I may have implied she looked like a slut." After explaining the events which led up to my hurtful remark, I waited for Jasper's response.
His eyes bulged. "Holy hell. What the fuck's wrong with you?"
"I don't know," I said. "It's just ever since I learned she was going to that strip club…" I paused, pinching my nose. "Then she acted as if I was holding her back from dating..." I pulled at my already disheveled hair. "And that dress. Dear God, that dress! It barely covered her ass, and when I saw her tits—I seriously thought I would faint!"
Jasper blinked then stared at me as if I had grown two heads. Slapping his knee, he shifted back into his seat and chuckled a throaty, uninhibited laugh. "I don't believe it."
"Wh-what?" I scrunched my eyebrows together.
"You're in love," he sputtered between laughs. "And all this time, I thought you were born without a heart."
I scowled, throwing a pillow in his direction. "Hilarious. But come on, man, love? Be serious."
"Oh, I am, and I can prove it." He leaned forward. "Exactly how does it feel knowing Bella's going out Friday night looking sexy as hell with dozens of scantily dressed men surrounding her?"
I gripped the cover on my bed, twisting it tightly between my fingers. Those fuckers didn't deserve to gaze upon her perfection. My throat grew tight and dry.
"And how would you feel if Bella met a nice guy in one of her classes and decided to go out on a date with him? Would you be okay with that?"
Pain like I'd never known swept through me. It was as if I had been kicked repeatedly in the nuts. The mere idea of another man dating my Bella made my vision cloud. But wait. When did I begin thinking of her as my Bella? Was Jasper right? Was I in love with my best friend? I closed my eyes and pictured her glossy hair, doe eyes, and plump lips. I thought about the cute way her nose wrinkled whenever she giggled, and how the sound of her voice made me think of home. Bella was everything good in my world.
It was true—my heart belonged to her.
I looked at Jasper, dumbfounded, and discovered him smirking at me. He lifted a shoulder. "Told you so."
With a loud moan, I plopped sideways on the bed.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm in love with my best friend, and she hates my guts." I inwardly winced and wished once again I could take back the horrible things I said earlier that evening.
"Well, the only thing you can do now is grovel as you've never groveled before," Jasper told me in sympathetic but uncertain terms.
"But how do I do that?"
"Beats me. Call your mom and ask her."
The next morning I woke up determined to win Bella's forgiveness and then, hopefully, her love. After I took a shower and brushed my teeth, I sat at my desk and turned on my laptop. There was no way in hell I was going to call and ask for my mother's assistance. If she learned what I had said to Bella, she would kick my ass. No, I was going to have to figure this shit out on my own. Not sure where to begin, I opened Google and typed "How to get a woman to forgive you." Grinning at my resourcefulness, I decided this would be easier than I originally thought—then 102,000,000 results appeared.
Fuck.
I clicked on the first link. It suggested three simple steps.
Give her space. Smothering her with texts and phone calls won't get you what you want.
Write a letter, apologizing with sincerity.
Make a grand gesture, showing your true feelings.
Hmm. That seemed simple enough—at least the first two did. I would need to think about a grand gesture, but I was sure I would come up with something. Ready to cross one item off the list, I grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote her a letter.
Dear Bella,
I said some terrible things last night. I'm so sorry you had to hear them. Sometimes I blurt out whatever I'm thinking without considering the other person's feelings. I know you're upset, and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Edward
Once I finished writing, I reread what I wrote to make sure my remorse was evident. Satisfied with my letter, I dropped it off at Bella's dorm before heading to class.
Later that afternoon while I studied in the library, Bella entered and sat at the table across from mine. Unable to stop myself, I peeked in her direction and discovered her watching me. She no longer seemed angry, only sad. Her usually sparkling eyes were bloodshot. I quickly looked away, remembering the importance of giving a woman space in order to earn her forgiveness. Worried I was sitting too close in her proximity, I grabbed my stuff and moved to an area across the room. I gave myself a pat on the back, knowing I had just helped heal our relationship. A few minutes after I moved, however, Bella rushed out of the building. Bewildered by her actions, I stared blankly at my textbook.
After three days of giving her space, I decided it was time to make a gesture that would show Bella I had learned my lesson. The only problem was I didn't know what to do. I told Jasper about my dilemma.
"Maybe you should do a striptease for her?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Sounds as if she'd enjoy it."
The gulp of Coke in my mouth spewed everywhere in a coughing fit. Once I caught my breath, I said, "Yeah, right. There's no way in hell that's going to happen." Picking up my backpack, I headed to the door. "I'll just order flowers. Thanks for nothing."
Friday morning, I had a huge bouquet of daisies delivered to Bella with a message that stated, "I miss you." At six p.m., I knocked on her door with her birthday gift—the special edition copy of Jane Eyre she had been wanting.
The door was answered by her friend, Rose. Her Amazon stature filled the doorway. "What do you want?"
Not allowing myself to be deterred from my goal, I said, "I need to speak with Bella."
Without answering, she swung around. "Bella, you have a visitor."
Bella appeared a second later. She froze for a moment, staring at me. After she snapped from her daze she said, "Edward." Stepping outside into the hallway, she closed the door. "What are you doing here?"
I shoved the present at her. "Happy birthday."
She accepted it. "Thanks, and thanks for the flowers, too. They're beautiful." She lowered her lashes then met my gaze. "I was surprised to hear from you. It seemed as if you were ignoring me all week."
My eyes widened at her statement. I shook my head. "No! I was giving you space."
She didn't appear convinced. "Oh. Okay."
"Did you receive my letter?" I asked in a hopeful voice.
Scratching her nose, she avoided my gaze. "Yeah."
"What did you think about it?"
She cocked her head. "Honestly?"
I nodded.
"I think you suck at writing apology letters." She laughed at my confused expression.
The more I thought about what I had written, I had to agree. Rubbing the back of my neck, I said, "Yeah, I'm not the best with words, but I really am sorry, and for what it's worth, I've missed you like crazy this week."
She wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my shoulder. "I've missed you like crazy, too, Edward." I was savoring her nearness when her door suddenly flung open, revealing Angela.
"I hate to break this up, but, Bella, you need to get dressed, or we're going to be late."
Stepping away from me, she looked at Angela. "Okay, I'll be there in just a second."
After Angela shut the door, I furrowed my brow. "Are you still going out tonight?"
"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?" she asked.
"I thought maybe we could spend some time together." I frowned.
"Edward, I already made a commitment. Maybe we can do something tomorrow?"
Disappointed, I shuffled my feet. "Yeah, that sounds good, but, Bella, please tell me you're at least not wearing that dress."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you seriously going to start this shit again?"
A muscle in my jaw twitched. "I'm just nervous. I don't want guys to get the wrong impression. I'm afraid someone might hurt you."
She placed her hands on her hips. "Is that really what you're worried about?"
Tell her! My brain screamed. Tell her how you feel. But instead of the truth, I said, "Of course, that's all I'm worried about—what else could it be?"
With a resigned sigh, she agreed. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." She walked to the door and gave me one final look. "Goodnight."
After she went into her room, I whispered, "Happy birthday, love."
As I ambled along the uneven sidewalk to my dorm, I replayed the conversation I had with Bella over and over in my mind. I couldn't believe I passed up the opportunity to tell her my true feelings. Now instead of knowing about my love, she was partying at a bar. Too keyed up to go back to my room, I decided to head downtown and wait outside the club. Maybe I could catch Bella as she left and offer to walk her home. On our way back, I could confess my feelings.
Twenty minutes later, I got to the Junkyard. I didn't know what time Bella was arriving, so I stood at the side of the building to remain unseen. As I leaned against the wall, a statuesque redhead approached me. "Thank fuck you're here!" she exclaimed as she unlocked the side door to the club. "I thought you said you weren't able to make it."
"Excuse me?" I looked around to see if there was someone else standing nearby.
She opened the steel door and gestured with her hand. "Come on. We're already running late."
I walked inside. "I think you're confusing me with someone else. I'm Edward Cullen."
Her mouth hardened into a thin line. "Listen, I really don't give a shit what your name is. I'm down three dancers. All you need to worry about tonight is being Jack Hammer. Now, get into your costume." Pivoting on her high heels, she strutted off in the opposite direction.
Scratching my head, I stood there, wondering what in the hell had just happened. A tall, muscular man threw his arm around my shoulder. "What's the matter, kid? Is this your first gig?"
I pulled away and looked at him. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm not even a dancer. I think your boss has me mixed up with somebody else."
The man chuckled. "Shit, Victoria doesn't care if you can dance or not as long as you have a dick. You've got one of those, right?"
I blinked several times. "Of course, I do, but I'm just here to see my girl—not to dance."
He scratched his chin. "Is she in the audience?"
I nodded.
"Well trust me, nothing gets a chick's motor running like seeing a wood show."
"I'm not sure—"
"Believe me, the babes dig it. She'll see it as a gesture of your love." He adjusted the lapels of his chef jacket.
A gesture. "Like a grand gesture?" A surge of excitement ran through my veins.
"Exactly." He smiled widely.
Gripping my messy, bronze hair, I groaned. "But there's one huge problem, I don't know what to do."
"No need to worry. Give me ten minutes, and I'll have you jiggling your booty like a pro."
"Thanks…" I paused when I realized I didn't know his name.
"Emmett, but on stage I'm known as Tony Pepperoni." He offered his hand. "My family owns a pizza joint in Bothell."
I accepted his greeting. "Edward. Nice to meet you. I'm sure your folks are proud."
"Yeah, they are. I'm a third generation stripper—all the men in my family are blessed with enormous wangs." He chuckled and winked. "Now, come on. Let me give you a crash course on bumping and grinding."
A half hour later, I waited backstage in my costume. Since Jack Hammer was the resident construction worker, I donned a hard hat, neon orange vest, leather gloves, and tight, pleather pants. To remain anonymous as long as possible, I wore a small black mask over my eyes. Luckily, I only needed my glasses for reading since I couldn't wear them during my performance.
Emmett assured me as long as I removed my clothes, little else mattered. Even though I wasn't terribly athletic, I was in good physical condition. I enjoyed recreational cycling and was known to play a round of golf or two with my father. I wasn't too worried—dancing couldn't be that difficult.
"Jack, you're up next," Victoria yelled from the side of the stage. I gave her a thumbs up and approached the curtain. Stepping out from behind the thick, satin material, I slowly raised my chin toward the crowd. Instead of seeing the audience, I became instantly blinded by the harsh glare of flashing lights. Stumbling across the stage, I tripped, landing on my hands and knees. I remained frozen in that position until I heard the screeching voice of Victoria shouting, "What are you doing? Get up and dance!" After taking a deep breath, I stood and turned around, gripping the tip of the leather glove which covered my right hand with the edge of my teeth. As I tugged the material off, I attempted to move my body, jerking my hips back and forth to the pulse of the music. No matter how hard I tried, however, I was unable to find the tempo— resulting in me probably looking as if I was having a seizure. Stretching my arms in the air, I circled them over my head then flung the glove in the direction of a table of screaming women. Instead of arriving at my intended target, it smacked one of the servers directly in the face, causing him to drop a tray of empty glasses onto the floor.
I paused, my eyes widened in horror. Instinctively, I reached to the top of my head to run my hands through my hair, knocking the hard hat to the floor. Realizing my hair was now exposed, I scrambled to pick up the hat and put it back in place. I sighed, then once again I started my awkward gyrations. Running my hands up my oiled abdomen, I stopped when I reached my chest. Unsure what to do next, I made lazy circles around each of my nipples. Peeling off my vest, I waved it around like a flag before sliding it between my legs, pretending it was a horse. I galloped around the stage until sweat poured from my brow. Dropping the garment, I twisted away from the crowd and wiggled my ass. In my mind, I pictured myself having the moves of Harry Styles, but deep down, I knew I looked more like the first losing contestant on Dancing with the Stars. No matter how I appeared, though, the audience loved it and cheered wildly.
Knowing it was time to remove my pants, I gulped and reminded myself why I was doing this—to show Bella how much I truly cared about her. With a sense of renewed courage, I undid the button and lowered the zipper, sliding the pleather down my legs. As I attempted to yank them completely off, they became entangled with my feet, causing me to tumble once more to the floor. I flopped with a loud thud flat on my back. Stunned, I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Thunderous screams of "Shake it; don't break it!" filled the room.
Ignoring my now aching body, I finished pulling off my pants and stood. I knew I only had a short amount of time left in my routine, and I needed to get closer to Bella. Left only in a hard hat, mask, and yellow thong, I made my way down the steps and into the audience. Women vied for my attention, whistling and cat-calling as they vigorously shook dollar bills in my face.
I danced my way through the crowd, reluctantly accepting money as I searched for Bella. The pungent scents of sweat, alcohol, and perfume permeated the space. Chants of "Take it off!" rang throughout the room. My heart skipped a beat when I finally spotted her group sitting at a table close to the bar. I headed in their direction only to be stopped by an overzealous blonde who grabbed my dick and squeezed it. Startled by her attack, I slammed into the table behind me, spilling an entire pitcher of margaritas on some poor, unsuspecting girl. As I tried to apologize, the blonde continued her assault, groping my ass while shoving money inside my G-string.
I gently tried to push the woman's hand away from my crotch as her friends whooped and cheered, coaxing, "Get him, Pam! Make him yours!"
Wrapping her arms tightly around my chest, she dragged her tongue across the back of my shoulder and bit my neck, sucking on it like a malnourished vampire. "Come on, sexy. Show me what you've got. Don't be shy, baby!" Pam said, her voice husky and hot in my ear.
A couple of bouncers showed up a moment later, detaching Pam from my body. "What the hell! I just took a quick sample!" she protested with indignation as they escorted her from the building. "I'll have you know I've been thrown out of much classier joints than this!" Glancing back at her friends, she yelled, "Sharon! Lizzie! Call my lawyer."
Free from Pam's clutches, I refocused on my pursuit of Bella, but when I looked at her table—she was gone. Just as I started to panic, the music switched, and Victoria announced the next performer. Determined to find Bella, I rushed toward the backstage area to change. One of the bouncers stopped me, however, stating I was booked for a private dance.
I inched away from him. My stomach rolled as an overwhelming sense of terror crashed through me. "Wh-what? I can't…" Pinching my nose, I swayed. The floor seemed to tilt underneath me.
Grasping my shoulder, the man said, "Get a grip, dude. You only have to dance—nothing more."
"Can't you get somebody else?" Removing my hard hat, I raked my fingers through my hair. "I'm only here tonight...a substitute." And I need to find Bella, I thought to myself.
He pushed me in the direction of the champagne rooms where the solo performances occurred. "You were specifically requested." He snorted and shrugged. "As to why...I'm not so sure. Personally, I've never seen someone with moves like yours before—you know, with such a gravitational attraction to the ground."
I grimaced at his words, even though they were true. I had made an ass out of myself the entire time I was on stage. "Come on, man," I said as a last-ditch effort. "I need to go see my girl."
"Not my problem. I'm paid to enforce the rules, just like you're paid to shake what the good Lord gave you." He chuckled when I shot him an icy glare.
With one last shove, he said, "There you go. She's waiting in Room B. Have fun."
As I watched him leave the area, I decided just to tell the client I had a family emergency and needed to go. I could get her email address and promise to send her a refund via the internet. Problem solved.
When I entered the room, the lights were dimmed. Soft music floated from speakers suspended from the ceiling. On a lone chair facing the back of the wall, a woman sat. Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat, and her feet tapped gently against the carpet. Even though I couldn't make out her features, I could see enough to determine she wasn't one of the women in Pam's entourage. I threw up a silent prayer of gratitude. Those ladies seemed likely to be just as aggressive as their friend.
I cleared my throat. "Um, miss?" I rubbed the back of my neck. It was still sore from being used as a human chew toy, and I quickly wondered if I was up to date on my tetanus vaccine. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I need to leave."
"Oh, that's too bad. It's my birthday, and I really wanted a special dance from you." She stood and turned in my direction. Arching an eyebrow, she said, "I didn't know you had a part-time job, Edward." Boldly, she strode toward me. "Imagine my shock when I saw my best friend up on the stage."
A chill shivered over my skin. Bella was standing before me. Mouth dry, my pulse skyrocketed. I was unable to form a complete thought. She met my stare, placing her palm on my bare hip. A sizzle of raw energy flashed through me at her touch. She gasped, making me think she felt it too. "I-I don't." My voice wavered.
"You don't what?"
"I don't work here," I answered, taking a loud gulp. "I was only at the club because of you." Shaking my head, I chuckled. "Don't even ask how I ended up on stage—that was one huge clusterfuck."
She glanced at me beneath her lashes. "But that doesn't make sense. Why are you here because of me?" Removing her hand from my hip, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
Trying to find the right thing to say, I took a deep breath and exhaled. "Because I've gone insane." I chuckled dryly. "As soon as you told me you were coming to this place, I started having feelings—feelings I'm not used to having."
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, "What type of feelings?"
I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek. Her gaze met mine. "The type that made me realize I'm in love with my best friend."
Tears spilled from her big, brown eyes as her shoulders sagged. It felt as if a vise constricted my heart. I was gutted; she didn't feel the same. With trembling fingers, I lifted her chin. "It's okay. I-I understand if you don't return my feelings."
Bella looked at me like I was crazy, then a loud snort of laughter escaped her lips. "You don't think I feel the same," she said, giggling. "Oh, Edward, I've had a crush on you since the first day we met." My body stiffened in shock. "And it didn't take very long after that for me to fall in love with your clueless ass."
"But I d-don't understand." I wiped away a tear from beneath her eye. "Why are you crying?"
"Because you finally came to your senses, you idiot." She poked me in the chest. "I can't believe Angela was right—all I had to do was make you jealous."
Did she mean? I opened and shut my mouth several times. "Are you saying coming to this club was just a ruse to get my attention?"
She stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you think? You know me better than anyone else. Did you really think I wanted to spend my birthday watching Sir Dix-a-lot and Officer Spank shake their junk in my face? I mean, sure, the wrapping is lovely, but the boxes are empty."
"What do you mean in your face?" My knuckles knotted. "Did they touch you? Dancers aren't supposed to touch the patrons."
"Calm down, slugger. No one touched me." She peeked at the back of my neck. "But I guess the same can't be said about you."
"Shit. Please tell me you didn't see that," I groaned, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
"Edward, I saw your entire performance. Did you really think that stupid mask and hat would prevent me from recognizing you?" She ran a fingertip across my lower face. "I'd know that jawline anywhere." Her touch set fire to me, arousing every sense. "What I really want to know is why you did it. Why did you dance tonight?"
My face heated. What seemed like a good idea earlier this evening didn't seem as smart at the moment. "I wanted to make a grand gesture. To show you how much you mean to me."
An amused smile played across her lips. "That has to be the dumbest, yet sweetest, thing anyone has ever done for me." We locked eyes and broke into a round of laughter.
"Well, I have acted like a colossal ass this past week," I said, making an excuse for my behavior.
She nodded. "You won't hear any arguments from me." She peeked at my current state of dress, or should I say undress, and giggled once again. "I still can't believe you stripped in front of all those people."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I think it's safe to say I'm the world's worst dancer."
Bella laced her arms around my waist. "I don't know—I thought you looked pretty hot on stage."
I shook my head, tucking her beneath my chin. Pulling her closer, I noticed how perfectly we fit together. "No, my moves were all wrong. You're just saying that because you l-love me," I stuttered because I still couldn't believe the woman of my dreams was in my arms, and she felt the same as me.
"I do love you—so very much," she said, relaxing against me. "And maybe your moves are wrong according to everybody else, but everything about you will always be just right for me."
The End