The Best Things
The roar of a motorcycle shattered the silence, andSkye's heart hammered in her chest. All heads turned toward the sound—all except hers. Indignation burned like a flame inside her. How dare he! The head librarian turned to her disapproving glare on her, and she hurriedly made her escape, gathering a pile of returned books to be reshelved and ducking into the fiction sectionto hide.
Anxious and hating herself for it, she peeked through the gap between the top of the books and the shelf above and held her breath. Blake. The leather jacket and ripped jeans. The tattoos she knew every inch of hidden beneath his tight, black t-shirt. Skye licked her bottom lip. She knew better, but she couldn't help herself. Every pair of eyes in the room followed his every move, but his eyes searched only for hers.
Headlights shone through the front window, lighting up his apartment like spotlights, and Edward grumbled under his breath. Whoever it was laid on the horn. Cursing louder, he got up from his desk to yank the curtains shut. He had to get this damn chapter finished. His deadline was getting close, and his publisher was already hounding him.
He froze, his hand on curtain. Bella. It was Bella.
She got out of the car and waved to him.
In a flash, he came back to himself, and his eyes shot around the room. Shit, it was a mess. A pizza box with his half eaten dinner. Overflowing laundry basket. Shoes everywhere. He raced around the room, grabbing them all and chucking them into his bedroom. He looked in the mirror. Fuck, he was a worse mess than his apartment. He was in an old t-shirt with a tear at the collar and track pants he'd probably worn back in college. He hadn't shaved in days, and his hair was a complete rat's nest. He ran hands through it, but it was no good.
She knocked on the door.
"Cool," he said to his reflection. "Play it cool."
Bella had been his best friend since she'd moved to town during their junior year in high school to live with her dad. But at some point things had changed, at least on his side. At some point, he'd fallen head over heals for her. He didn't know when it happened or even when he realized it had, but now, at twenty-six, he was in deep.
Hand on the knob, he gave himself a second pep talk before opening the door.
She was surprised at his appearance and laughed, breezing in passed him. "Rockin' the grunge look tonight?"
"Ha. Ha." Edward looked down the hall, but she was alone. Thank God for small favors. "Fucking deadline is coming up," he said, closing the door. "I've been working since morning."
"Oh! I'm sorry to interrupt. Should I go?"
"Definitely not."
Bella gave him a sympathetic look. She knew how much he'd come to hate writing cheesy romance novels. But they paid the bills—and paid them well, to his surprise. It had started off as a bit of fun. Nothing he took terribly seriously. Just something to tide him over until he could write the books he really wanted to write. Madison Parks. That was his pen name. Someone he'd never met had made it up. Edward Cullen didn't have the right ring his publisher had thought, and female romance novelists sold better. Like them or not, he had a contract.
"What's this one about?"
"What are they all about? This one's just like all the others. Touch. Kiss. And a guy bending a girl over the back of a chair."
"It won't be forever."
"Right. One day, great literature, blah blah." He used to believe that, that one day he'd write the next great American novel. Something really special, something that got into a person's veins, into their soul, something that got inside them and stayed with them. He'd really like to believe that still, but the books he wrote had left him feeling cold. As well as they paid, all he felt when he finished one was the cold.
How had it come to this? He was twenty-six, and he had a job he hated but couldn't leave and a girl he loved but couldn't have.
"It won't be," she insisted.
She sat on the couch, leaning against the back cushion, watching him as he straightened up his desk.
"Where's your lesser half?" he asked.
"Gone and good riddance."
That was new. The corners of Edward's mouth curled up in spite of his best effort to appear sympathetic, and he kept his face turned away until he could stop grinning. Thank God for big favors too.
"What happened?"
"The threesome got old, you know? Me, him, and his ego."
"I'm sorry."
She scoffed. "You're a rotten liar, you know that? S'okay. I'm not sorry either."
He came over and sat next to her. Close, but not as close as he wished he could. Just this close and he was afraid he was going to go up in flames.
She kicked her shoes off and curled her feet underneath herself. "I'm not even sure why I went out with him in the first place, really. He was okay, I guess. But, honestly, I'd stopped caring he'd left before his car had even pulled away."
"You deserve better."
"I'm so done with guys who can't see beyond the end of their own nose." She toyed with the corner of the couch cushion. "Why can't I find a guy like you?"
Edward racked his brain for something to say. Something witty and charming. Something flirty. Something that would make Bella look at him like he wished she would.
"You know, the whole Kurt Cobain thing really isn't you," she said. "C'mon. Go and get dressed. Let's go out and celebrate my return to singlehood, and you need a break." She uncurled her legs from underneath her and pulled one knee up to her chest. She stretched her other leg out and nudged him. "All work and no sex makes Edward a dull boy. When was the last time you went out with anyone?"
He tried to dodge. "I've been busy."
"Busy," she repeated with a smirked. "You could pick up any girl you wanted as easy as introducing yourself and your friend Ms. Parks."
"Almost any," he corrected under his breath.
A slow smile spread across Bella's face, and she tipped her head to once side. "Almost?" she asked, an eyebrow arching. "What's this? Is there something you haven't told me?"
She slid down the couch, close to him. Cornered and panicked, Edward pushed himself back against the arm of the couch and grabbed a throw pillow. He clutched it to himself. Bella, sliding up to him, her eyes glittering, her hair flowing over her shoulders . . . He might not be seventeen still, but he was a man, and she was so beautiful.
"C'mon. Spill," she said, drawing closer still. "Have you met someone?"
Edward jumped to his feet and circled around to the back of the couch. He returned to his desk and closed his laptop. He shifted a couple of papers around, anything to keep his back to her.
"Edward?" Bella followed him, her teasing tone gone as she laid her hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Oh. Wow."
He spun around. "What do you mean 'Oh. Wow'?"
"You have got it bad, haven't you?"
"I don't—"
"Who is it? Have you told her?"
"You've got it wrong. I haven't met anyone."
She was so close. It was hard even to breathe with her this close. He escaped to the kitchen, but she followed.
"No, I don't think I do."
Her phone rang, and Bella backed off to check it. She never didn't check her phone when it rang, no matter what. Some people might think it was rude, but Edward knew her. He understood. Her father was a cop. When they'd gone away to college, she'd confided to him how much she worried about her dad. What if something happened, and it was the one time I didn't look to see who was calling?
"Ugh," she groaned, showing him her ex's name on the screen.
"Don't answer it."
Bella ignored the call and slid her phone back into her pocket. "Wasn't going to." Folding her arms, she leaned against the door, blocking his retreat to the living room. "Can't escape this time," she said, smirking a one sided grin, her eye brow arching.
"I haven't met anyone," he insisted.
"Someone you already knew, then?"
He tried to deny it again, but his throat wouldn't let the words form.
"Ha!" she said, triumphant. "I knew it! What's her name? Do I know her?"
"Bella, please—"
"Have you told her?"
Edward turned away and closed his eyes. There was no use even trying to deny it now. She knew him too well, and he didn't have the energy to try. But he couldn't tell her how he felt. She didn't feel the same. He had to accept that. If she knew, she'd feel bad. She'd feel guilty. Bella was like that. Compassionate. It would hurt her, if she knew.
"No point," he said. "She doesn't feel the same."
He dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut tighter.
After a moment of awkward silence, Bella's arms slipped around his waist, and he felt her cheek press against his shoulder blade. He had never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted to turn around and take her in his arms. To touch her face. To taste her lips. Kissing Bella would be like breathing in fire. Just one touch, and she chased the cold away.
"Then she's a fool and doesn't deserve you."
"She's not a fool."
"No. You'd never have fallen for her if she were." Her cheek lifted from his back. "She just has exceptionally bad taste in men."
"Can't argue with you there."
"I think you should tell her."
"No."
"It might make a difference."
He shook his head.
"It might," she insisted. "You're an amazing guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you. I should know, after the number of losers I manage to find."
Her arms fell away, and he missed the feeling of them around him immediately. It was quiet for a long time before she spoke again.
"I wouldn't mind," she said, making him turn to her in surprise.
"What?"
Leaning against the counter, eyes on the floor, staring hard. "I mean, if a really great guy I was friends with told me he had feelings for me."
Edward didn't know how to respond. His heart was hammering so loud, he couldn't hear himself think. Had she guessed? She couldn't have.
Could she?
"I mean, it'd be a surprise," she said. "Could be a good surprise." Her head still down, she looked up at him. "The best things are worth taking a chance."
He swallowed hard. He didn't know whether he was hot or cold or whether he was within touching distance of his greatest dream or about to ruin everything.
"Maybe we could stay here," he said. "Instead of going out somewhere, I mean."
"The bar scene is getting old," she agreed.
"We could just hang out."
"See what happens."
"Bella . . ."
His heart hammering its way up to his throat, Edward held his hand out to her, and after what felt like an eternity, she took a step toward him, slipping her hand into his.