Chapter Ten

Our days in Austin are a blur of sunshine, drinking, and sex. The guys play a show and have a decent turnout. Things between Edward and me are good. So good that when he asks me to visit another city in a couple of weeks, I consider it.

I'm not in a rush to label us again. I know we essentially broke up, but we're together. It feels like it, anyway. I'm not going to force us to talk about what exactly we're doing when it feels good, and it's working.

The last day in Austin is spent around the pool at my Airbnb. The crew comes over, and day-drinking happens while Emmett grills burgers.

I'm in the bedroom, separating my clothes from Edward's to do a load of laundry before I fly out tomorrow. I decide to throw in a few of his things, too, and as I'm emptying the pockets of his jeans, out falls a little baggie filled with cocaine.

It startles me for a second. I pick it up and put it back in his pocket, heat prickling the back of my neck.

I'm not mad. I'm just… caught off guard. I'm not stupid. I understand the lifestyle of a musician. I know when we first met that he did coke. Fuck, I'd done it once or twice, too. It was always a casual thing with him, though, until it wasn't, and about a year and a half ago, he stopped. It was his idea. He said it wasn't helpful and only clouded his mind. He said it was a distraction, and he wanted to quit. So, while I'm not mad about the little baggie I just found, I am confused and worried.

I leave the clothes on the floor and move outside, where he's lounging on a chair in the sun. I'm grateful the music is loud, and he's alone, everyone else in the pool or inside the house.

I stand over him, and he instantly pulls me into his lap, his bare chest warm and freckled from the sun.

"What were you doing inside?" he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck.

"I was gonna do laundry before I have to pack," I tell him, suddenly nervous. I don't want this to turn into a big thing. I'm just confused why he never told me he'd started using again.

"Take a dip with me?" he asks, playfully tugging on the bikini string that's tied behind my back.

"In a minute," I mumble. "Hey…"

"Hm?" He leans in for a kiss to my mouth this time, and I look for his eyes behind his shades.

"I need to ask you something."

A moment of uncertainty flashes over his face. "Okay. What's up?"

"You're doing coke again?" I ask bluntly. I don't want any room for miscommunication about this.

He instantly stiffens. "Emmett told you?" he asks, and this fucking catches me off guard, too.

"What? No. I found the baggie in your jeans."

"You were going through my shit?" He doesn't say it angrily, but there's an underlying annoyance to his tone, and I have to remind myself to stay calm and not get defensive.

"No. I told you, I was gonna do laundry, and I emptied your pockets and… that's beside the point. I thought you didn't do that shit anymore?"

"I don't," he laughs, like it's nothing, his tone completely different than seconds ago. "Not really."

"Then why was it in your jeans?"

"It's Jasper's."

I pull the sunglasses from his face, wanting to see his eyes. I'm met with crystal green and it settles my anxiety.

"Please don't lie to me, Edward. I just wanna know."

He looks agitated as he stares past me, his jaw tensing. "I mean, I've done it here and there. But it's not a big deal."

"Isn't it though? The last time we talked about it, you said you were done. You said you didn't want to mess with that shit anymore, so…"

"Burgers are done!" Emmett hollers out, stealing our attention. We look over, and I see Em's eyes cut toward us, like he knows we're having a serious conversation. My mind reels with the fact that Edward thought Emmett might've told me, which means it's common knowledge that he's using again. The tension between the two of them suddenly makes a lot more sense now.

"I'm not mad," I say quietly. "Just tell me. Is it yours, or is it Jasper's?" I ask, fully knowing it's not Jasper's and preparing myself for the worst if he lies to me again.

"It's mine," he says after some silence.

I'm relieved, but that's quickly replaced with worry when I realize that's likely why he kept disappearing to the bathroom the other night.

"How long have you been doing it again?" I push.

"Not long? I dunno. Fuck." He runs an agitated hand through his hair, his face creasing with worry. "The nights have been long on tour. It's just nice to not be exhausted all the time. It's not a thing, okay? Really."

"You were doing it that first night, right? When I was waiting for you to get into the pool." My heart sinks when I remember his playful, excited demeanor and his dark eyes. That wasn't him at all. It was the coke. "And then again right before we had sex?" I realize, feeling stupid for not catching on sooner, and fucking hurt that he'd leave me waiting in bed so he could do a line.

"Yeah," he confesses quietly. "I was."

"Edward. What the fuck?" I glance away from him, and he gently grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"It's not a thing. Baby, I swear."

I pull his hand from my face and he tangles our fingers together.

"You said you do it here and there, and nights are long on tour, yet you needed it that first night I was in town? When it was just the two of us?" My voice quivers with emotion, but I rein it in.

"I just… I'd already been doing it before you got here that day. So, I just kept it going. It didn't seem like a big deal."

"I got into town mid-afternoon," I point out. "You were doing coke in the middle of the day?"

He blows out a long breath. "We were out late, and I was tired, and I'm… fucking sorry. I am."

I search his face and find clear green eyes that are remorseful and full of regret. It makes me feel a little better knowing he's not high right now. It makes him easier to believe and forgive.

"Should I be worried?" I ask directly.

"No. No," he says again, firmer. "Really."

"Just tell me next time," I say, uncertainty flaring in my chest. "Please."

"Every time I do a line, you want me to tell you?"

"No, but…" I think about the last time. How his use wasn't always just casual or recreational. It fucking worries me, but he's acting so nonchalant about this, it's easy to write it off as nothing. I get it—late nights, touring. If some of the other guys have it around, and it's easily accessible, I could see him doing it now and then. "I know we're not together or whatever right now…" I begin to say, hoping he'll correct me. "But am I not important to you? Don't you want to talk to me about shit like this? Like if you're struggling or..."

This makes him look at me. Really look at me. His eyes are so tender, and with me still in his lap, he runs a hand over my thigh until his palm is on my bikini-covered ass.

"You're the most important person ever, Bell."

"You mean it?" I whisper, running my fingers over his jaw.

"I fucking mean it," he replies, voice dripping with sincerity. "More than anything."

"Then talk to me. Before I have to ask. Before I find this shit out myself. Please?"

"Okay. I'm sorry." He captures my mouth in a kiss. "This is why I FaceTimed you the other week. When we started talking again? I was gonna tell you. I just… got scared. I dunno."

I think back to that night, how he said he wanted to talk in person and how shit was tense between him and the guys.

"Tell me now," I urge. "What happened?"

"I mean, what is there to say?" he asks rhetorically. I can already feel him shutting down, and it makes my pulse spike. "Sam's got a guy and has been getting a good deal, and Emmett isn't happy this shit is around again."

"And Jasper's using, too?"

"Nah, he's not," he says. Knowing that he full-on lied to me that it was Jasper's coke when Jasper isn't even doing it makes me feel a little sick. "But Emmett… he doesn't get it. He doesn't need it. He never has."

This alarms me, but I try to keep my face neutral. "And you feel like you need it?"

"That's not what I mean," he clarifies, breathing out a laugh. "I just mean… whatever. Emmett gets on his high horse about it all. But it's not a thing. Okay? I swear. We probably won't even get any more. That's the last of it."

"Okay," I say quietly, not feeling confident about the direction the end of conversation took. If anything, I'm more concerned. "I just… I don't know. Talk to me about it. That's all I want. That's all I ever want. It's what I'm here for."

"Baby, I know."

I wrap my arms around his neck, and he hugs me back. We stay like that for a minute, until Jasper yells "aww, how cute."

"Fuck off, Jas!" Edward calls out, and when we pull away, he cups my face and presses his forehead to mine. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whisper. "So much."

"And that stuff you said before? Fuck that. We are together."

I pull back to look at his face, my heart racing. "Yeah?"

"You fucking know we are," he says quietly. "I know shit can be intense, and that I let you down sometimes—"

"You don't," I counter softly, shaking my head.

"Nah, I do. And I'm sorry. But you're it for me, Bella. You are."

I press my lips to his, and he peppers a trail of kisses from my mouth to my neck, making me squirm and laugh.

"You're my girl," he whispers in my ear.

His words settle me, and with one last kiss I put the sunglasses back on his face. And just like that, we move on.