an: cheers for sticking with me.

•sixteen•

Five long weeks passed, and Edward found himself in Georgia, in the middle of a campsite, rain lashing against the roof and walls of Victoria's Airstream. Bar a week at home, it had been two weeks of meets at various circuits around the country. He'd had one more third place podium, but it only fuelled the frustration; the elusive first place evading him once more. This week's meet had been canceled due to the adverse weather conditions; it wasn't wise to risk racing while a storm was raging across the state.

The last few hours had made up for everything, though.

"I've been thinking," Bella murmured, her voice barely audible above the rain as she reached for discarded clothes.

"Thinking about what?" Edward asked, even though he knew already. He knew because he'd told her himself. "Think about it."

Think about them. Think about dating him. Making this thing between them something more. He'd left her with those words and a kiss that lingered long after he was on the freeway heading home, and now she had an answer for him. His palms felt sweaty again, his pulse loud in his ears.

Edward pulled his shirt over his head, rolling it down over his chest, disliking how it still felt damp from being outside; despite running all the way from his truck, the downpour outside had ensured he was soaked.

"I think we should just keep this casual."

Bella fastened her bra behind her back, looking for her top, draped over a pink bench seat. She wasn't looking at him, and the words seemed to flip around in his head, like a coin being tossed. "I feel like Kasey's getting too attached to you. She was so upset after you left last month. It's not good for her when I..."

The words seemed to elude her as she trailed off.

Edward buckled his pants up, zipping the fly before he spoke, his voice hoarse.

"Okay."

He should have known. He could feel her slipping away. Ever since the morning with Tanya, her messages were more infrequent, the tone of them shorter, and today she'd looked surprised at his declaration of missing her. She didn't seem to want to do much talking, either. All the signs were obvious. He wasn't sure why he had hoped it was going to be any different.

"Okay." She sounded uncertain.

"Okay?" he drew it out, questioningly.

"I thought you wanted more."

Edward leaned back against the bright blue kitchen cabinets, looking at his feet, his skin still damp, hair still wet.

"It doesn't really matter what I want," he responded with a frown. "Either you're not ready for it, or you don't want it. I don't know which it is. Both?"

Bella considered this, pulling her top down, staring at her jeans in her lap as the light above them flickered.

"I don't think it would work," she whispered, not looking at him. A repeat of exactly what she'd said before.

He swallowed hard. "Then it won't work."

She raised her head, this time to stare at him, eyebrows knitted together, her voice climbing in pitch.

"Why are you being so—"

"Because," Edward interrupted, frustratedly. "You've already got all these doubts creeping in your head. No matter what I say, or do, you're gonna leap on it at the first opportunity as an excuse... You're too old; I'm too young. We live too far away from each other. You don't trust me enough. I don't know what you want me to fucking say here, Bella. Jesus. You're giving me fucking whiplash."

Bella said nothing. She was back to looking at her hands interlocked in her lap, at the fraying edges of a hole in her jeans. She was good at that, Edward thought bitterly—saying nothing when it mattered. Keeping whatever she had going on in her head locked away.

Edward stepped towards her and crouched so he could look her in the eyes—dark and framed with a frown. He wanted her to look at him and know he was being sincere. Impress on her some of the things he was feeling. Some of the bitterness about the situation playing out like it was, some of the regret. Hands rubbed down soft, light downy hair on her forearms, across freckles, until his hands covered her smaller ones. The wind whistling around them, in this tin shell of a place.

"What are you so afraid of, huh?"

He blew out a long stream of air when she didn't even try to give him an answer. "Let me know when you're ready. To try. For real."

He was sure part of her wanted it; he'd convinced the hopeful part of him, anyway. You don't keep on messaging a one-night stand; or let them stay over on your kid's birthday; you don't let them meet your friends and family if there isn't something there. At least that's what he thought. Edward was sure that part of her was being bound by loss; the grief and the hurt of losing someone she thought was going to be around forever.

He kissed her on the cheek before he rose to his feet and grabbed his cell and keys from the table, walking out into the raging weather.

His legs made strides through long, wet grass, the rain drenching him almost instantly, blowing into the side of his face and stinging his skin with ferocity.

Twenty yards—forty—and he heard the faint sound of the door close again behind him. It made him look back. Bella chasing after him barefoot.

"Are you… are you going to see other people?"

She'd stopped short of him, wet grass around her ankles, sticking to her bare feet, the bottoms of her jeans now soaking up water.

"How'd you know I haven't been already?" Edward threw out, carelessly, the prickle of anger he felt fighting to the surface.

He hadn't even thought about it, in truth. There had only been her and thoughts of her, for months.

Brown eyes watered, one arm wrapped around herself and the wind teasing her hair; making it fly as thick drops of rain pelted them.

"You've—"

"No." He cut her off. "No, I've not been fucking other people, Bella. But if I had, this is casual, right? This is fun. That's what you want."

He saw the tear sneak down her face, mixing with the rain, and he thought about bridging the distance between them and taking her in his arms, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd given her a lot, or at least he thought he had, and now the only thing he had left were the same words she had said; to throw them back in her face.

"Is that what you're expecting? Me to just fucking come running when you want me to fuck you? Because that isn't fuckin' fair. I've jumped through your hoops. Or I thought I had." He shook his head. "I don't honestly know what else to do to try and convince you we should make somethin' more out of this… tell me if there is and I'll—I'll fucking do it."

"I don't know," Bella cried, tearfully. "I don't know whether I'll ever be ready. I told you I didn't want anything!"

Edward's smile seemed to pull his face in different directions. And that was just it. She wouldn't let herself be ready, and until that happened, nobody stood a chance. Not him, nor anyone else.

"You're right. You did."

They stared at each other for a few long seconds before Bella dipped her head.

Edward took that as his cue to leave, with only one destination in mind.

He needed a drink.

He needed several.