Chapter 7

"Fancy place you got here…" Edward says from the living room as I get us both a glass of water.

"Thanks, I built it myself," I joke.

"Your talents continue to amaze me."

When I get into the living room, he's perched in front of our fireplace, several of my pageant photos framed on the mantel.

"How many of these things have you done?" He asks.

"Like...ever?" I set his glass of water down on the table.

"Yeah."

"I think last count was over one hundred since I was little."

He turns, his eyes wide. "A hundred? You're shitting me?"

"Am not." I smile. "My mom started me when I was barely old enough to walk."

"That's...a lot. Do you ever get tired of being perfect all the time?"

The weight of his question hits hard.

"Yes," I answer honestly. "I just do it to please Momma."

"Why?" He settles down beside me.

"Because when my parents split up, I guess…" I trail off. "I guess I thought it was something I had control over, but now it's completely out of control and all about her and not me. And I got comfortable being uncomfortable just to keep her happy."

"Fuck her, Bella." He shakes his head. "I mean I know she's your mom, I get that. But you're not responsible for her happiness or even your dad's happiness. Especially when it's making you so unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy," I shoot back even though I know it's a lie. I nod. "This was the big one for some reason in her book because it was the last one she won herself before she met my dad."

"And had you?"

"And had me." I lean back and rest my head on the back of the couch. "Sometimes I think she resents me because she didn't get to do everything she wanted to and go everywhere she wanted to. Because of me. And maybe I feel a little guilty about that."

"Where would you go if you could go anywhere?"

I close my eyes and imagine I'm on an airplane. Where do I land?

"Europe?" I answer. "London. Paris, maybe?"

"You should go," he says.

"Where? To Europe?" I laugh.

"Yeah. Or wherever the Hell you want to go. There's way too much world out there for you to get stuck here living someone else's dream."

"How are you so strong? Huh?" I rest my hand on his knee. "You aren't scared of anything."

"I appreciate the confidence, but I'm scared of a lot of things."

"Oh really," I tease. "Like what?"

"You scare the shit out of me."

"Me?!" I almost laugh. Little me scares Edward Masen? "Why?"

"Because you're one of the only people that gave a damn about seeing past what everyone else thinks of me."

"And that's scary."

"I mean, yeah." He runs his fingers through his hair. "I guess as much as I hated the bad boy title, I also hid behind it a little bit. Can't hide with you."

"That makes two of us."

A long moment passes before either of us speak again. I feel warm and have chills at the same time. Vulnerability isn't something I'm used to. I can prance around on stage in front of a hundred people but being alone with him is completely different.

"I could use something a little stronger than water," I mumble. "Do you want something?"

"You breaking into your mom's stash? Rebel."

"She's mostly only got wine." I take his glass and head to the kitchen. "I don't do it a lot but she's got enough bottles that she doesn't notice."

I pull one from the bottles and pour us both a glass. When I turn, I realize he's right behind me and pull a total Bella. There's wine all over him and not a drop on me.

"Hmmm…" He looks down at his shirt. "Not really how I prefer to drink my wine, but it will do."

"I'm so sorry." I set the glasses down. "I'm such an idiot."

"It's not a big deal."

"I probably have a shirt you can wear, just a sec." I pass him and head upstairs to my bedroom.

I search through my drawers, looking for a sleep shirt or something that might fit him. I pull one out from the bottom of a pile.

"Nice room," Edward says, behind me.

I turn and find him in the doorway holding our two refilled glasses, the rest of the bottle, and a new one.

"Oh, hi." I wring the shirt through my hands.

"Hi." He smiles. "Is this okay?" He gestures around.

"Yeah, it's fine. Here's a shirt for you." I hand it to him and he hands me my glass.

"Thanks." He sets his down on my desk and pulls his shirt over his head.

I take a long sip of wine. I've seen him shirtless before but it might as well have been the first time. The muscles in his back flex as he lifts my shirt up and on.

"Pinehurst Academy, huh?" He looks down at the front. "Never thought I'd wear one of these."

"Looks good on you."

His eyes drift over my head to a shelf with some of my crowns. "Look at those."

I roll my eyes and laugh.

"Can I get a show?" He asks.

"Huh?"

He sits down on the edge of my bed, downs his glass, and pours another.

"I'm doing recon for Rosalie so she knows what her competition looks like. I just need to see what we're working with here."

Maybe it's the wine or just him, but for some reason I agree to his ridiculous request.

I pour myself more wine, grab a crown from the shelf, and a dress and a sash from the closet and scurry into the bathroom.

I pull my hair back into a loose bun and throw on some red lipstick before I slip into the dress I wore a year ago at another pageant. I drape the sash over my shoulder and place the crown on my head, and look into the mirror.

I'm a little buzzed. Wine always gets to me more than anything else.

I take a deep breath and step into the hallway.

"Can I get some music please?" I call.

I hear him fumble around and then a soft melody.

I round the corner, leading with my bare leg peeking out of the slit of my dress.

He whistles at me as I stride gracefully into my room and across the floor, waving to the imaginary audience. He leans back onto his elbows as I come to stand in front of him.

"What do you want, Isabella Swan?" He asks.

"World peace?" Is this a trick question?

I step forward, and take the crown from my head to place it on his. "What do you want, Edward Masen?"

He gently grabs my forearm before I can pull it back. He traces up my arm and to my shoulder, and down my side.

"I want you."

I want him, too.

I lean forward, resting my knees on the bed on either side of him, and fall into his lap.

"And…" He brushes a stray piece of hair away from my cheek. "I really…really…" He lowers his voice as his nose touches mine. "Want to wreck your lipstick."

He presses his lips to mine and I melt into him. He grips my hips and flips me over onto the bed, the crown on his head long gone with my inhibitions.

I kiss him with everything I have, nipping at his lips. His hand lowers to my leg, up the slit of my dress, until he pulls it up and around him.

This isn't like me. Or maybe it is. He makes me...want things, want him in a way I've never wanted before. And I've never felt more alive.

I slip my hand beneath his shirt, my shirt, and feel his skin. I dance across his stomach and his chest, warm under my fingers. I feel his heart beating fast, matching my own.

He gently pushes the strap of my dress down my arm and kisses my neck and my shoulder. I want him to kiss me everywhere.

Then my phone rings. I ignore it and let it go to voicemail. But then, whoever it is calls back.

"Maybe you should get that," Edward whispers, kissing me again.

I ignore it again. And it rings again.

"Ugh." I sigh, reaching for my phone beside us. "It's my mom."

"Does she have some special kind of radar that tells her when to fuck up your day?" He laughs.

"I would not be surprised." I hold up a finger to his lips telling him to be quiet. "Hi, Momma."

"Isabella. What were you doing, why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was...blow drying my hair."

Edward leans down and kisses my neck again, swirling his tongue over my collarbone.

"Drying your hair?"

"Mmmhmmm." I close my eyes.

"Have you been practicing?" She asks.

"Yes." It's not a lie, right?

"Okay, well don't stay up too late."

"Okay, Momma, I won't. Have fun." I hang up before she says goodbye.

"I should probably go," Edward says, kissing me again.

"What? Why?" I ask.

"I don't want to lose control with you."

"Why the Hell not?!" I snap back.

"Because your mom is crazy and your dad could throw me in jail."

I smirk. "Fair enough."

He texts Rosalie to come get him. "I'll get the bike in the morning."

"Okay."

We lay next to each other until Rosalie pulls up in front of the house and lays on her horn. Subtle.

I follow him downstairs and linger at the front door.

"Sure I can't convince you to stay?" I ask.

"You could convince me of anything you wanted to, Swan." He leans down and kisses me again. "See ya."

He saunters away from the house, a little wobbly. I smile watching him walk away, leaning against the door, my entire body missing him the moment he was gone. He hops in the car and they speed away.

I sleep like a dream. And when I wake up the next morning, his bike is gone, and there's a single flower on my front porch.

I lean down and pick it up, unable to contain a smile.

Lord, help me. If I'm falling for the devil, this sure is the most beautiful way to burn.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope everyone is staying safe!