Chapter 17

When my beers came, I slid one in front of her.

Pushing Carlisle's buttons was nothing new. Drive them away before they can reject you and all that, but this was a new motive.

Pushing them when his niece was around.

Pushing them because it was his niece.

His increasingly intriguing, spirited niece.

Odd that I asked her to come here. I rarely joined the boys out in the real world. Lately, I preferred to get black out drunk alone.

I knew she wasn't 21. Jasper didn't have to remind me twice. But she was over eighteen. A girl over eighteen should be allowed to hoist a few.

Especially if she was on the road with a famous rock band.

And especially in the company of me.

She looked at the beer, at my hand, at me, and finally at Carlisle. He looked at her with a dominating glare I wanted to bestow on her.

I nudged her elbow and she jumped. "Drink it if you want," I said, leaving it there in the air. Do your own thing, baby niece. "I'll drink it if you don't. No big deal." No one would ever be able to sue Edward Cullen for forcing women to do what he wanted.

He suggested plenty. But never forced.

"Maybe she doesn't like beer," Jasper said, a tired look on his face. I knew he was counting down the days he'd be free of us, of this circus, of my antics.

"I like beer." She shrugged, and picked up the glass.

So, she wasn't afraid to go against uncle's orders. Noted.

Taking a sip, the foam stuck to her lip as she pulled the glass away. "Just one, Carlisle. Then I'll go back to work."

I always knew when Carlisle was going to fight.

Apparently, his kryptonite was this small creature shaking with nerves but curious bravado beside me. "One."

She smiled and licked her lip, a motion I enjoyed thoroughly.

Should've kissed her on the bus. Good thing I didn't. Wouldn't have ended there.

The boys fell back into their conversation, and I was relieved it wasn't the same old bus talk of who fucked who.

The girls hanging on the fringe of the group when I arrived had all drifted to my side, but got bored from the lack of attention I paid them. They'd scurried back to their stools, keeping an eye on me but more interested in their drinks and what dude might be a willing wallet.

I drank my Guinness in one go. Ordered another. The insufferable one-man war I fought in my head vanished with each gulp of beer. The walls I constructed so artfully showed signs of crumbling.

We tumbled into the old arguments over who was the best drummer, who changed the face of rock music and what year that might've been. Fought over the strength of a subdominant chord and the pull of a dominant one. Debated who was the better songwriter. Lennon or McCartney.

Time passed and Carlisle stayed and that was good. Said nothing when Bella ordered herself another pint and then another. He might've even clinked her glass a bit.

When she smiled at me, beer-lazy, I smiled back.

A genuine, warm heart one.

I felt happy...

Jake put ten in the jukebox, and we all drunkenly cheered when the first few chords of "Free Bird" started. The boys' slurred voices were loud as they warbled over the words, and I couldn't help myself from joining. Loud and strong I sang when the chorus came, closing my eyes. Feeling that bird flying. Lord knows, I can't change. Lord help me, I can't change. Lord, I can't change. Won't you fly high, free bird, yeah.

We yelled and laughed. Sang and cut each other off and drank some more. Spilled beer on the floor and took turns throwing peanut shells at Jake's head. I forgot about what everyone wanted from me and what I couldn't give. Forgot about that argument in the hotel room and the baby niece game.

I guess he did too, staying for one too many and it felt so good to have him there, no fingers pressed to his head with the pain I caused.

It was just us, talking shit. Melancholy and guilt twisted deep in my gut that we had gotten so far past simple times like this.

I wasn't the leader now. I wasn't the guy that kept this shit show alive.

I was just Eddie from Chubbuck, Idaho. Guitar player and songwriter. Baby-faced and eager.

It had been so long since I'd allowed myself this. Allowed myself them.

Jake. Jasper. Yorkie, Carlisle.

Getting shit-faced in a bar on a Tuesday afternoon.