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Chapter Six

His words didn't affect me.

His words did not affect me.

There was no way. I didn't know this man, and it was silly for me to even think...

"Hey, Cullen. You asshole. You can't keep doing that!" A blonde screamed from the other side of the bar, holding a tray above her head.

Edward stood behind the bar, grin on his face as he grabbed an empty glass.

"Sorry, Rose. Maybe if you were on top of things, my friend here wouldn't have to wait for a drink."

"Watch it," she warned. "Fair warning: this guy," she pointed at Edward, who rolled his eyes, "is bad news."

"Don't be a bitch to my brother," Brawny snapped at the blonde before winking at me.

"You guys are brothers?" I asked. They laughed.

"Only by blood." Brawny smiled. "I'm Emmett. Who are you?"

"Bella from Portland," I said as Edward set a lime green beverage in front of me.

"Why the fuck did you get her a margarita? Those things are awful."

"That's what you think." Edward walked out from behind the bar and stood next to me. "Let the girl decide for herself."

"Isn't this place known for their amazing margaritas?" I questioned, receiving a laugh from everyone within a 15 foot radius.

The blonde, Rose, laughed as she walked past us. "No, honey. I think Edward is the only one in this town who actually likes them."

"It's only because everyone else hates them," Emmett explained. "Edward's a compassionate mother fucker, even for shitty tequila."

Compassionate was an understatement. He was already befriending me - trying to help me out - and I barely knew him.

"Just take a sip." Edward pushed. "I promise you'll love it."

So, I sipped the margarita, letting the cool burn of the tequila settle in my stomach before answering.

"Well, Portland? What's it gonna be?" Emmett questioned.

"That might be the best margarita I've ever had," I admitted. It wasn't a lie.

"I knew you were gonna love it." Edward smirked, receiving an eye roll from Emmett.

"Apparently, E can read minds and predict the future," he said with a chuckle. "You knew she was going to love a shitty margarita? That's creepy as fuck."

"Yeah, Edward. That was a bit over the top, even for you," Rose agreed and stared me down. Not like she was sizing me up; or maybe she was, but it wasn't unfriendly. I didn't feel threatened.

"Butt out, Rose. You're just upset because Bella isn't a lesbian," Edward sneered.

Rose flipped us off and walked to the other end of the bar, leaving Emmett in hysterics.

"You can see the future, huh? Must be nice." I jokingly sighed as I wiped the condensation off the glass. "Tell me, what do you see in my future?"

"I don't know you, but I feel like I do." Edward's arm draped around the back of my bar stool. "I see good things."

"Cryptic."

"No." He raised an eyebrow. "You're good people," he said decidedly. "That much I can tell."

My cheeks burned and I had to look away from his eyes. He was so honest and...good. He was just too good.

"You're right. You don't know me," I mumbled.

"But I'm good at reading people," he said softly while twirling a piece of my hair around his finger.

It was stupid and silly and utterly ridiculous, but Edward was right about the margaritas; they were good.

I could only hope he was right about me.

Edward narrowed his eyes and set a twenty dollar bill on the counter. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes. It's something people do when they need to sober up before they drive home." He tugged on my hand, helping me off the stool.

We stepped outside as dusk began filling the sky. It was my favorite time of day; when the sky is dim and the sun is no longer in sight.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, staring at me with concern.

"I love this time of day. Dusk. It's...I don't know. I just love it."

"What else do you love?" Edward whispered, then laughed. "That was weird, sorry. I'm not sure why I want to know everything about you."

I shook my head, confused at what I could say to that. Because I felt the same.

"What does Edward Cullen do when he's not trying to sober up while walking around town with his tenants?" I teased.

"This probably looks bad to you; I realize that."

"No. It's okay. It's funny."

"I don't have any other tenants. My aunt passed away recently and left me her house; I'm not even sure why. All she left Emmett was her collection of bowling balls." Edward shoved his hands in his pockets, laughing at something. "Maybe she thought I was the more responsible nephew since I graduated college and am now manager at Newton's Olympic Outfitters."

"I'm sorry about your aunt."

"Thanks, but it was expected. She had been sick for a while."

"Doesn't make it any easier," I said.

Edward gave me a tiny smile. "Hey. I like you."

"You're nice, too."

Too nice.

Too good.

Too intense.

A/N: Thanks to the ladies at The Lemonade Stand for rec'ing this. I really appreciate it. Thanks for reading.