14
The Hunk
Bella's psychiatrist warned Edward to tread lightly for a few days before she left. To wait for Bella to contact him before he tried to get back to their routine. To move slowly and to be cautious. She pressed her card into his hand and told him to call her if anything felt off.
Alice also gave him her number so she could keep him updated on Bella.
The days that pass are the loneliest he's had since they started texting back and forth.
He's new to the area and devoted the majority of his time to getting The Bakery up and running. Aside from his sister and her husband, Bella is the only person he's had any real contact with. Edward has grown dependent on his beautiful neighbor whom he knows is hurting right now.
Hearing how she is via text messages from Alice does nothing to squash the worry. She contacts him a couple times a day to let him know that Bella is doing okay. That it's slow going, but she's okay.
If Edward never hears that word again, it will be too soon.
When he gets home from work one day, he sees a package sitting on Bella's stoop, and for a brief second, he thinks about snatching it.
Then he remembers Zafrina's instructions and goes inside.
Edward can't remember the last time he ate. He's standing at the stove, stirring some canned soup in a pot and telling himself that it won't taste like lead when his phone goes off.
Probably Rosalie. She's been bitching at him for days about his emo attitude. Bitching at him about everything is more like it.
Instead, it's a text message from an unknown number.
Hey, Honey. It's Sugar. I had an accident with my phone, and I had to order another. For some reason, the company couldn't switch my old number over without me taking it to the store.
Edward's mouth hangs open.
And then his fingers are tapping away at the screen.
He knows he needs to be careful, so he decides to go the comical route.
If you got the new iPhone before me I might have to disown you.
Really? What if I let you play with it while I finish dinner? Still disowned?
Edward tosses the pot of soup into the sink and runs upstairs to change out of his sweats.
Be over in five. I'll bring the Coke.
Enabler.
Edward stands at Bella's door with a twelve-pack of cola under one arm. He's afraid to admit that he's nervous about what he's going to find on the other side of the threshold. He gathers up the courage to knock.
He's surprised when a smiling Bella swings the door wide open.
She holds up her new phone and waves it in his face.
"I'll trade you my phone for what you've got, Honey."
They trade the phone for the cola.
"Hey, it's locked." He frowns at the empty space where she was once standing.
He watches her limp into the kitchen.
"I said you can play with it. I never said I would unlock it." She smiles over her shoulder at him.
He chokes on his tongue.
How is it possible for her to get more beautiful every time he sees her?
"Give me back my twelve-pack, Sugar. This is not fair."
He finds her standing in front of the oven, bent over and leaning in to grab what looks like a pan of enchiladas.
"Fuck, that looks good."
Bella drops the pan on the stove in surprise, and Edward realizes what he said.
"Sorry. Just. I have a skeleton in my closet." His cheeks burn. "I have a tiny bit of sailor's mouth. I blame Rosalie. She's a terrible big sister. She used to teach me bad words and tell me they meant something else. I told my mom that her dinner was fucktastic one time. I can still taste the soap she put in my mouth."
Bella smiles while he rambles.
"Edward, it's fine. I'm not a nun or anything. I say 'fuck' when the occasion arises," she assures him.
"I wasn't just talking about the food. You look gorgeous tonight."
It's Bella's turn to blush.
She's wearing another dress, blue and covered in green dots. Her feet are covered by her favorite technicolor socks. They go all the way up to her knees, leaving a small amount of skin between them and the hem of her dress. Her hair is braided down her back, but short strands are hanging down her face. Bella looks about as exhausted as Edward feels, but she's sporting a wide smile, and her dimples are present.
He's missed those dimples and the beautiful girl they belong to.
"Thanks. I like your shirt. I'm more of a Luke Combs fan than a Sam Hunt one, but it's cool."
"Blasphemous. Now unlock your phone for me, please."
"No. Can you carry this over to the table?" She points to the enchiladas. "I'll get some glasses."
He nods, pockets her phone, and does as she asks.
He's sitting at the table, chin resting in one hand just watching her.
"Are you okay, Sugar?"
She stiffens.
"Yeah, why?"
"Because you're limping."
"Oh, I dropped a bowl the other day and accidentally stepped on some glass when I went to get the broom," she lies.
He can tell she's not being truthful but doesn't say anything.
"Should you be walking?"
"Yep. My cuts are healing just fine. I'm wearing socks for padding," she tells him as she takes a seat. "I hope you're ready for vegetarian enchiladas."
Edward's mouth gapes.
"I'm kidding. You should see the look on your face." Bella giggles. "I promised, remember?"
"That was evil. I think you should definitely unlock your phone after we eat to make up for being so cruel."
"You just use me for my food and new technology." Bella snorts and covers her mouth in embarrassment.
She's so fucking cute.
"Definitely not. I genuinely enjoy your company. I've missed you lately."
Bella's dishing out the food when he says that, and her hand pauses but only for a second.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I had some really rough days, but I'm okay now."
She hands him a plate.
"You're sure you're okay?"
Bella nods.
"There's no need to apologize, Sugar. Bad days are part of life."
He wants to ask her about her setback. He wants to know about the story behind her wedding because it's obvious it played a major role in the reason why she is the way she is.
Edward is curious but who wouldn't be?
Instead of asking questions, he stuffs his face.
After his third helping, Bella stops him.
"Did you get high before you came over?"
"No, why?" He laughs.
"Because you're eating like you haven't had a meal in days."
Edward could tell her that he hasn't eaten in days. That he couldn't because his stomach was clenched with worry. Worry about her and the setback and where it was going to leave them.
Instead, he shrugs and explains that he didn't get a chance to eat today because Rosalie was being a mega bitch.
"She sounds like a hoot." Bella smiles, passing him her plate so he can finish her uneaten food.
"No offense to you or any other female in existence"—he puts his hands up defensively—"but when it's my sister's time of the month, everyone suffers, even the customers."
Bella laughs.
"Seriously, I've heard one of the regulars call it shark week. Today, she yelled at a guy for being a cheapskate when he dropped some loose change in the tip jar. I had to go out front and tell her to cut that shit out before she killed someone. We ended up calling one of the part-timers in, and I had her husband come pick her up."
"Oh, how is Emmett?"
He smiles because she remembers something as simple as his brother-in-law's name.
"He's all right. Managed to cut the tip of his thumb off at work. They weren't able to reattach it, but he's in good spirits."
"How does an accountant manage to cut a part of his body off? Never mind, it's Emmett you're talking about. That man needs to be bubble wrapped."
"Rosalie tried it. It was a joke, but he fell over and caught a garden hose nozzle with his forehead. Seven stitches later and Rosalie decided to take out a life insurance policy."
"That's smart."
Edward insists on doing the dishes since Bella cooked. It's only fair and a good excuse to get her off her feet.
"Honey, where's my phone?" she asks.
"Not telling until you give me the password."
Before he knows it, her hand is in his back pocket, plucking the phone out and laughing in his face.
Edward has never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire life.
"If I weren't elbow deep in this sink water, and we weren't in your kitchen, I'd tackle you," he threatens.
"Well, you are, and we are, so make sure you scrub that pan really well before putting it in the dishwasher." She gives him a wicked grin and takes her seat. "Meanwhile, I'll be over here, playing with my new phone."
"You are so evil. How have I not seen this side of you, Sugar?"
"I have many sides. Can't divulge all my secrets all at once, you know?"
Edward washes his hands and starts the dishwasher under Bella's instruction.
She's so engrossed in her phone that she doesn't see him walking toward her.
He snatches it out of her hands and holds it over his head.
"Ah-hah!" he exclaims.
"Noooo," Bella bellows, standing and reaching up on her tiptoes.
She's tall, so she can reach the phone, but Edward's fingers are stronger. They struggle until she gives up and walks to the living room, throwing herself on the couch with a huff.
Edward checks to see what had her attention.
"Sugar, why were you taking pictures of me doing the dishes?"
He looks over the back of the couch to find her lying there, hiding her bright red face, and smiles.
"Because," she answered, her words muffled by her hands.
"Because?"
"Yeah, just because." She sits up and pats the cushion beside her. "I've been watching Santa Clarita Diet, so sit down because I have loads of questions."
"Ask away." He takes the seat beside her.
Their posture has changed a lot. The last time they were here, they sat on opposite ends of the couch.
But tonight, she's so close to him that he can feel her warmth through their clothes.
She smells like warm snickerdoodles. He knew she'd smell sweet.
"Okay, question one. Did you get the idea to toss your microwave out the back door because Joel threw his toaster oven out?"
"Bella, I wasn't lying when I said the blasted thing caught on fire." Edward laughs.
She turns on the show but continues to ask her silly questions.
It's a silly show, so it's to be expected.
At one point after Bella's explained the improbability of a situation happening, going into great detail, her hand lands on top of Edward's.
They both look down.
Edward decides to make a move and turns his hand over, letting his fingers rest against hers.
Bella is the one who chooses to braid their fingers together, and they go back to watching the show as if nothing happened.
"You do realize you just spent five minutes disproving a fact about a show where zombies throw up meatballs, right?" Edward asks, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, checking to make sure she isn't freaking out.
"Whatever. You just ruined my plans for dinner tomorrow night. I was going to make spaghetti and meatballs."
Bella, having taken her phone back, is swiping through it until she finds what she's looking for.
"Let's take a selfie."
"How old are we?"
"I'm twenty-one. How old are you?" she asks.
They've been talking for so long but never covered ages before.
"I'm fifty-seven. We Cullen men age gracefully," he jokes.
Bella doesn't look amused.
"Twenty-seven."
"You're ancient. We're still in the same century. Take a selfie with me."
Edward could never deny Bella anything.
They scooch closer together, and Bella holds out the phone.
"Smile, Honey," she says. "One-two-three. EDWARD, I SAID TO SMILE!"
"I smiled," he defends.
"You look like a serial killer. Redo."
Fourteen takes later, Bella finally deems the picture save-worthy.
"You might be twenty-seven but you sure can act like a four-year-old," she mutters, saving the photo as her lock screen and background.
She sends it to his phone when he asks.
"Bella, just because I'm not photogenic doesn't mean you have to be mean," Edward jokes.
She rolls her pretty eyes.
"And you tried to play the whole 'you can't reach' with my phone in the kitchen. You're immature."
"I'm also off tomorrow, so let's watch a couple more episodes, yeah?"
She nods and reaches out to grab his hand again.
He noticed the minuscule tremble she once had is gone.
Somehow, her head ends up resting on his shoulder.
"It's late. Are you getting tired?"
Bella shakes her head.
"I've been sleeping for days. I'm game if you want to continue."
Edward doesn't push, but he has so many questions batting around his head, just screaming to be asked.
"I know you're probably wondering what happened," Bella says softly as if she can read his mind. "I've never really talked about it until the other day, and I don't think I'm ready to do it all again so soon. I'm sorry."
Edward kisses the top of her head and squeezes her hand.
"I already told you that I'd wait, Sugar."
"Thank you."
He feels the wet spots her tears leave on his shirt but doesn't say anything.
Eventually, the spots dry, and they're back to laughing about something happening on-screen.
Today is a great day.
