Hello! I think this chapter *might* make up for the lack of Cullen's in the previous chapter ... or might not. Who knows?
Big thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this story. I appreciate you all!
Do you know who else I appreciate to the moon and back? Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03. They're seriously awesome. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)
SM owns everything Twilight.
At the sound of crunching gravel, I look up, thinking it'll be Edward, but instead I see two familiar faces exiting a sporty silver two-door. Alice's smile is bright and radiating happiness, and Jasper's is just as bright, though there's still a slight, shy, tentative quality to it.
I'm glad the two of them are getting along so well; personally, I think they're well suited for each another. Alice's exuberance is a perfect match for Jasper's calmness, and Jasper's seriousness is the counterpart to Alice's easy-going nature.
Regardless of how happy I am that they're getting along, I can't help but feel a little betrayed and pissed.
It's certainly a surprise to me because I didn't realize I was this upset.
But yet, here I am.
Jasper has been so against our friendship lately; he's gone to extreme lengths to make sure Alice and I don't remain friends, even going as far as taking my phone and sending her terrible texts in my name.
Now, he's all friendly with her?
I've always known the Cullens were good people, and I knew once Jasper had spent the day with them, he would see it too. However, seeing them so friendly with each other, as if nothing had ever happened, has me annoyed.
Knowing my cousin, he's already asked for forgiveness, but did Alice already give in that quickly?
If she has, I suppose that's her business, but I won't be so easily won over. He almost ruined my friendship; family or not, that isn't something I take lightly.
What I also won't take lightly is Alice ignoring me when all I wanted to do was comfort my friend. She couldn't seem to let me in, but she'll let him in?
Does our friendship mean nothing to her?
"Well, well, well," I say with a drawl, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the banister. "Look at this picture, and it wasn't too long ago that one of you was being a dick, and the other was ignoring me."
Alice frowns at my words, but I pay her no mind.
Jasper swallows thickly, his gaze dropping to the ground, which doesn't help Alice's displeasure. Her lips press tightly together as if she's holding back from saying something. I would honestly prefer it if she would say something; I would love to give her a piece of my mind too.
"It's all in the past now, Bella. I've apologized to Alice and her family."
"I know, but not to me," I reply. "Don't you think your actions hurt me too? I could have lost a friend because of your asshole behavior!"
At my words, Alice's harsh look fades slightly, but not enough. "You should let it go," she tells me, stepping up to Jasper's side. "You're overreacting."
"Don't start with me," I warn. "I'm pissed at both of you. You ignored me, Alice. I'm your friend, and you shut me out, but you can talk to him?"
From the corner of my eye, I spot Edward driving up, and moments later, he gracefully lifts himself from his familiar car, smoothly gliding over to us with a raised eyebrow.
"What's going on? There seems to be some tension here."
"Tons of it," I seethe, glaring at the two people in front of me. "I can't stand people with double standards."
"Right," Edward says, drawing out the word. He rocks back on his heels, looking way too pleased for some reason. "You should probably calm down; I'm kind of fond of my sister at the moment, and I would rather you not kill your cousin."
"Whatever," I mumble, stalking off.
I'm acting like a complete child, I know, but Jasper's past behavior and Alice's defense and the fact that they've been obviously hanging out has my worst qualities bursting out like thorns.
Behind me, feet pound against the pavement.
"Hey, Bella, listen," Jasper starts, coming to a stop in front of me. He places a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off, not wanting to pick on his frustrating calm.
In a gesture of surrender, he holds his hands up in the air and takes half a step back. "Chill out."
"Don't tell me to chill out. You treated her terribly, you know. It's bad enough you said some of that shit to her face, but you made her think I said it. You know I would never hurt someone I consider a friend like that … through a text, anyway," I amend, thinking of the false friendships that tried to be started with me throughout the years.
He nods in agreement, shame coloring his features. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you and betrayed your trust in me. I'll make it up to you and never do it again, I swear."
Taking a moment, I stare at him unblinkingly, gauging whether or not he's being serious and truthful. I feel nothing but honesty radiating from him and while that certainly is a comfort, I'm not ready to forget so easily.
He's going to have to prove to me he's regretful. In the meantime, I'll cut him a bit of slack. After all, there's enough tension in this family to last us a few years.
"You better not, or I'll make you pay. I swear with everything in me, Jasper, I will."
"I believe you, and I won't make you doubt me again; you have my word." He ends that statement with a firm nod and set shoulders, looking older than his years.
"I told the same thing to Alice and her family," he quietly admits. "I wanted to apologize to them. Once I spent the day with them and saw the truth, I knew I screwed up … big time. I was just too stubborn and pig-headed to see it."
"How'd that go?" I would have loved to have been there, seeing Jasper squirm as he forced out his apology through his embarrassment.
"They accepted it without question."
His response is baffled and surprised, but I'm not; the Cullens are good people. The ones I could see being a problem are Edward and Emmett, considering their knee-jerk reactions and harsh attitudes. Underneath it all, however, I can tell they're good people, too.
"That's good."
"Yeah. I'm glad they're not upset with me. Anyway, after I apologized, I sought out Alice and confessed everything. She knew it wasn't you, of course, but she forgave me anyway."
"Why?" I question, completely perplexed. I had seen Alice when Jasper was treating her so awfully. She seemed like she was half a person; a broken shell of a girl that needed to be pieced back together.
How could she forgive and forget so easily?
"Thanks," he responds dryly.
"You didn't see her, Jasper," I tell him seriously. "She was hurt; it was like you broke her or something. Not that I saw much. She wouldn't let me in."
He flinches, his face flushing with pain. When he responds, his voice is no louder than a whisper. "I don't know why. I'm just glad I have a second chance."
His phrasing is weird, considering they weren't exactly close before everything blew up between them.
"What's that mean? Are you two dating?"
To my amusement, his cheeks flood with color, and a hand flies to the back of his neck. "Yeah. We're taking things slow."
Despite my fading annoyance at the situation, I'm glad; I think they'll make a good couple. He's the perfect balance to her high energy, and she's what he needs to bring him out of his shell. I'm not sure how long they'll last, but I think she'll make a good impact on his life.
"Let's not talk about this anymore." I vaguely point at the house over my shoulder. "Don't go in there. Dad is telling off Grandmother, so dinner is postponed until we're summoned back."
Glee shines on Jasper's face. "What happened?"
By the time I'm done recounting everything, Jasper looks to be in awe. "Really? Uncle Charlie did that?" he questions, jumping in the air twice and bringing a fist to his mouth that does nothing to conceal his happiness. "Aw, man. I wish I had been there."
"I wish I could continue to be there," I tell him, partly grumbling. "I want Grandmother to get put in her place … and Gran too, as much as it pains me. She's been watching Mom like a hawk."
All previous delight Jasper had, vanishes. In turn, it's replaced with a stiff seriousness that has me snickering under my breath.
"You know why, don't you?"
He shakes his head, looking at a spot on my shoulder. "No, Gran has been weird since she arrived."
"And I'm calling bullshit. I know about Mo—" I start, and immediately, he grasps my upper arm, pulling me away.
"Bella, you don't know what you're talking about, so drop it," he hisses.
"If you would just—"
Gripping my hand hard, he stops me, his eyes begging and beseeching. "Bella, I'm begging you. Don't dig any further into this, okay? There are … things you can't know … things that could hurt you. I know you're aware Aunt Renee isn't like she used to be, but just leave it at that. Please, for now, at least."
This isn't the first time I had gotten this request, and I know if I keep going, it won't be the last either. I wish someone would just let me speak things through, but so far, no one has been willing. Honestly, I'm getting really ticked off, and I feel as if I'm about to blow.
Knowing that now definitely isn't the time, I grit my teeth and nod.
"Fine," I force out. "But sooner or later, I'm going to talk, and everyone will listen, even if I have to tie you all down to do it."
Jasper smiles, chuckling lightly. "I'd like to see that happen. You're a feeble girl."
I raise an eyebrow at his teasing words and show him just what this girl can do. Reaching out, I pinch the thin skin of his shoulder and pull, snorting when he squeals like a baby.
"You're evil," Jasper complains, rubbing at his shoulder while looking at his phone. "I thought we all could go do something, but now I'm not sure."
"Who's 'we all?'" If he's talking about Edward and Alice, I have no doubt I'll be invited anyway, so I'm not worried on that front.
"Ben, Tyler, and Eric," he answers, waving his phone around. "I just texted them; we're meeting up."
"Don't they have families and dinner too?"
"Yeah, but not until late this afternoon, that's why we're getting together."
"And you were going to skip out on our family dinner for your friends? Classy."
"No," he argues. "I was going to see what time we were having it since no one was answering their phone. Now, I know I can go, and you're not invited. You're too mean."
"I'm so broken up about that," I reply, my tone droll.
I'm not going to miss anything there, besides the four of them making fools over themselves as they drool over some stupid game.
Jasper scowls once more, but it softens moments later. "You sure you don't want to come?"
"I don't. I'll be fine."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. Walk around, go into Port Angeles? Hang out with Rose? The possibilities are endless."
His response is sarcastically droll. "In this area? Sure … and besides, Rose is with Emmett."
The face he makes is full of disgust, and for once, I have no desire to find out what's causing it.
I brush off his response with a flick of my wrist. "Go on. You worry too much."
"So? You're my family."
"That's where I know you from!" I playfully respond, snapping my fingers before rolling my eyes and pushing him away lightly. "And I'm fine. Go."
"I know you're not sleeping well," he calls out when I start to walk away. "Are you having nightmares about what happened on Halloween? And don't lie to me," he says before I can answer, raising a knowing eyebrow.
"Kind of," I reluctantly admit. "But they're not too bad. They'll pass soon."
My words are half-truths, but there's no way I'm going to discuss my dreams right now. The only thing I want to do is keep myself distracted, so I can push all thoughts of my dreams out of my head.
Crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow, the expression on his face is the perfect picture of disbelief. "Do you really believe that?"
"I have to."
Briefly, sympathy washes over his features, but it's gone as quickly as it came. Pulling into a hug, he squeezes me tightly, resting his chin on top of my head. "You're a strong person. You'll get through it."
"Of course I will," I playfully scoff, stepping back. "Now go away. Your geekiness might be contagious, and I don't want it. I have a reputation."
He snorts a laugh but starts to walk backward. "I won't make any comments on that statement. I'll save it for a rainy day."
"Meaning you have nothing, loser! Go and play with your friends now. Maybe you'll think of something while you're out."
Nonchalantly, he flips me off and heads to his car, quietly conversing with Edward and Alice. Though it's somewhat difficult, I do make out him extending the offer to go to play games and watch movies to the pair, both of whom decline.
"… seeing off ..." Alice tells him, her voice trailing off the further I get.
Edward's response is lower and difficult to make out, but I don't doubt he won't go with them. He doesn't necessarily look like a sci-fi lover, but neither does Jasper, so I could be completely wrong about him.
"Hey, Bella!"
Alice calls after me, and I turn, waiting for her to catch up. It doesn't take her long to step in front of me, her fingers nervously twisting together.
"I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean to shut you out. Really. I'm just … not used to people outside of my family caring about me."
"Why? I mean, I know you like him, but why couldn't you let me help you? Why did you speak to him before me?"
"It wasn't intentional. I only spoke to him because he came by to apologize to my family and me. I've only spoken to him today, I swear."
I study her closely, looking for any hint she's lying, but there doesn't seem to be any. She seems sincere, and belatedly, I realize I might be drawing this way out of proportion.
"It's fine."
"It's really not. I should have thought about your side of things. I'm … out of practice with some things."
"It's okay. I'm upset, but it'll pass ... and I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to get so upset."
She nods, smiling softly. "I understand. So, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later?"
"I guess. When are you thinking?"
Her nose wrinkles. "Later in the week? I wish it could be today, but I have to go," she says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.
Unwillingly, my eyes trail over her shoulder to Edward, who is talking with my cousin, but smirking in my direction.
"Where are you going?" I ask, in an effort to distract myself.
Alice's face falls into a slight pout. "James and Victoria are leaving, so I'm seeing them off."
"On Thanksgiving? They're not staying?"
She shakes her head. "We had it yesterday. James and Victoria have other plans for tonight, hence why they're leaving."
The sadness in her voice is evident.
"You're close with them?"
She nods somberly. "Yeah. Victoria is kind of like my conscious; I can talk to her about anything, and she gives me good advice. And James … he was my protector when I was … younger. He was the one who found me and took me to Carlisle."
"Why didn't he adopt you?"
Her nose scrunches slightly, her lips twisting as if she tasted something bad before breaking out in laughter. "No, I can't imagine it. James isn't really parent material; he was born to be the cool uncle, and he's okay with that. He knew Carlisle was the best person to take care of me, and that's that."
Her wording about her adoption is strange, but I say nothing, knowing it won't get me any answers.
"That's good, then. You're definitely in the right spot."
"I am." Her smile is as sweet and thankful as the expression on her face. "I have to go now. I know Victoria is anxious to leave, and I don't want to miss them."
I wave her off. "Go. Have fun and tell them goodbye for me."
Her lips twist in an effort to hide her smile. "I will. I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll set something up."
"Okay, see ya."
Edward saunters up to me with a smirk as soon as his sister departs. "So, you needed me, huh?"
"Didn't I say not to read into it?"
"I didn't see that part," he replies, still smirking. "I just read that you needed me and wanted to be in my company because you can't get enough."
Rolling my eyes, I stalk off, wondering if I truly did go insane. Why did I think texting Edward was a good idea and a means for escape?
There are plenty of other options I could have taken, so why did I text him?
"Do you talk to yourself often?" he asks, matching my strides with ease.
"Who says I'm talking to myself?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Right, I forgot. You're certifiable. Are your other personalities not playing well with each other?"
"They never do. And apparently not one of them is smart enough to grab the car keys, so I can't even leave Forks."
He sucks air through his teeth, wincing dramatically. "That sucks. Too bad there's not another option, like a quasi-friend with a car that you texted. Oh, wait," he pauses with a fake look of epiphany.
I come to a halt. "First of all, you seemed to get over here fast, so you must be hurting for my company."
"That's not—"
"And secondly, you were serious about that?"
"I am very serious. I guess your crazy must have rubbed off on me. Too bad, there's plenty of other things I would like rubbed on me besides that," he teases with a wink.
Instantly, my head fills with images of the two of us together in tight quarters, pressed tightly against one another as we exchange heavy breaths.
The car would be a perfect place for that … it's certainly cramped enough.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I scrunch my nose in fake disgust to hide the smile threatening at my lips and the blush heating my cheeks. "You're disgusting."
Feigned innocence radiates from him. "I was talking about suntan lotion. Is your mind constantly in the gutter?"
"I told you. I want you all the time," I tell him, my voice monotone.
"Yeah," he replies, rolling his eyes with a slight smile. "It's crystal clear. Get ahold of yourself, woman. Come on." he invites with a wave of his hand, walking backward. "Let's get out of here."
"And go where? To your murder dungeon?"
"Who keeps revealing my secrets?" He asks in mock indignation.
I snicker and shake my head. "Jesus, you're mental. Talk to your father about that."
His response is droll. "I'll get right on that."
Walking backward, he twirls his keys around his index finger. "Are you coming?"
"Whoa!" I wave my hands in the air frantically. "You're thinking too far ahead, lover. You haven't even bought me dinner or kissed me yet."
His feet falter underneath him, his eyes wide, and mouth dropped open. Laughter is bubbling up from my throat, but before it can leave my lips, it's replaced by a choked gasp.
Faster than I've ever seen him move, he dashes to my side, one arm sliding around my waist and across my back while the other cradles my jaw … cheek in his palm.
"Okay, then."
His lips slant over me firmly, but still allowing me some control. Lightly, he suctions at my bottom lip, his tongue licking against the sensitive skin. I shiver, and he holds me closer, slowly dipping me backward.
The feeling is unsettling, and I gasp, grasping his upper arms tightly. He deepens the kiss, and a buzzing tingle emits on my tongue, creating a pleasurable burst of electricity to shoot through me. I moan, and in response, his fingers on my back and face lightly sweep against my skin.
I respond in kind, meeting each of kisses with one of my own until my lungs force me to pull back.
Surprisingly, he looks just as affected as I am, his chest rising and falling rapidly, matching with each breath I take in and release.
"Satisfied?" he asks, his tone cocky.
It takes me a moment for his words and tone to register, but once they do, I shrug, placing my hands on his chest and peering up at his honey-colored eyes. "Eh. It was all right. You're improving; I'll give you that."
He scowls. "Really? I'll show you 'all—"
Before he can say another word, I plant my lips on his, effectively silencing him. I only pull back when I feel his arms tighten around me.
"What's the plan?"
"I'm leaving you on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Good luck," he jokes. "Get in."
"I don't know now," I muse, twisting my face up as I playfully pretend to think about it. "Go with you and potentially go missing? Hmm … "
"Go with me or stay in Forks and be bored to tears," he counters, moving his hands up and down in the air as if he's weighing something. "Decisions, decisions."
Now that he's put it that way, there's only one option.
"Let's go."
8*8*8*8*8*8*8*
"You're not scared, are you?" Edward questions, a smirk playing on his lips.
I scoff and ease my white-knuckled grip from the door handle. My hand immediately starts to throb, the blood flow rushing into my appendage with a ferocity that causes my fingers to tingle and tremble.
Discretely as I can, I shake it off, flexing my fingers to rid myself of the pins and needles feeling.
"Not at all," I reply, hoping I sound as carefree as I'm trying to portray. His smirk deepens, telling me I'm not as successful as I want to be, but honestly, I don't care.
I'm a proclaimed fast driver and proud of some of the speeds I've reached. The highest I've gone without getting a ticket has been ninety-two, and I managed to go five miles before I slowed my ass down. It happened to be a good thing, too, considering Deputy Mark was waiting at the next intersection, his radar gun hanging lazily out of the window as he struggled to stay awake.
Despite the utter terror I'm feeling as we soar down the street, leaving other cars behind in a literal trail of dust, I'm having a good time. Once I set aside the feeling of impending doom and focus on Edward's calm and relaxed demeanor behind the wheel, I find myself grinning from ear to ear.
Even my body is starting to vibrate with excitement as the scenes of nature rush by the windows in a blur of green and brown. It's a thrill I never want to end.
"Where are we going, anyway? You never told me. Which, I might add, you've done twice now. That's kidnapping," I say in a playful sing-song manner.
He chuckles, low and deep, and my body tingles in a strange way that has me squirming.
"You got in the car willingly," he reminds me, his hands easily caressing the wheel as he slows the car down once we enter Port Angeles. "After I thoroughly kissed you, which you seemed to enjoy. What does that say about you other than you're crazy about me?"
"Mind your ego," I playfully warn. "I couldn't not kiss you back. It would have hurt your fragile feelings." He rolls his eyes, preparing to say something, but I continue. "And it means I'm an idiot, that's what it says. However, I was threatened with being bored, so an afternoon with you versus boredom in Forks?" I pause, tapping my pursed lips with my index finger. "Hmm. I think I'll take option one."
"Even though you might be alone with a psychopath and never again see the light of day?"
Once more, I scoff. "The chances of us both being psychopaths are astronomical."
He laughs loudly, his head thrown back against the seat. "Right. Maybe I should have thought about this. Now I'm scared for my own safety."
Reaching over, I pat his arm. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Much."
In a lightning-quick move, he flips my hand over, so he's the one grasping my fingers in between his cool ones. I gasp at the movement and feel of his skin on mine; breathing in uneven bursts as his fingers gently rub the inside of my wrist.
Satisfied with my reaction, he smirks, rubbing the delicate area more deliberately.
"I think I can take care of myself."
"You think?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and pulling my arm back. I would have thought he would be over-assured and cocky, considering everything I know about him.
"Well," he begins, releasing my hand, though it seems like he does so reluctantly.
Testing the waters, I allow my hand to fall onto his thigh, scratching my fingers against the denim of his jeans. He shivers, and this time, it's my turn to smirk, which he ignores.
"You can be unpredictable sometimes," he continues. "It makes for split-second decisions and makes my survival a little bit difficult. But, I've survived this long. I can hold out a little longer."
I snort a laugh, but underneath the humor, I think he's right. The only other people who have been able to put up with me and all my frustrating ways have been my cousins, and so far, Alice.
If he doesn't hate me completely and isn't frightened by my brusque behavior, then I don't think he's going anywhere.
The thought, no matter how startling, makes my cheeks blossom with warmth, and my heart, beat a little quicker in my chest. Despite his asinine behavior at times, I'm glad he's sticking around. There's something about him and being in his company that I enjoy.
I just can't put my finger on it.
Not wanting him to see my reaction, I turn toward the window and focus on downtown Port Angeles, watching the vague impressions of buildings pass by.
"Where are we going? You've sparked my curiosity. You're not going to dump me in an abandoned field somewhere, are you?"
"The thought did cross my mind, but no. Alice would kill me, not to mention our parents."
"Good news for me."
"I suppose."
He turns left down a street where the Port Angeles movie theater comes into view, with its shiny metal and dark brick facade. There are quite a few horror movies that premiered this month, and I had wanted to go, especially to the one opening this weekend. With all of my family coming in, however, I knew it was impossible.
Now, I'm not so sure. Hope blooms within me, but I try not to assume.
I don't want to be an ass.
"I thought we'd go to the movies. There's a new one I wanted to see. Up for it?"
Before he's finished speaking, I'm bouncing in place, grinning like a lunatic and grabbing at his shoulder. I'm acting like a total fool, but I don't really care; horror movies are my favorite hobby.
A nice bonus to this is telling Jasper about it when he hasn't seen any of them yet. It'll be nice to rub it in his face that I got to see a horror movie while he was wasting his time watching science fiction.
It's a petty and childish move, but so was his behavior.
In a way, I can understand his reasoning; that doesn't mean I can't punish him for it, though.
"Yes. Absolutely," I tell him, shaking him as hard as I can, which doesn't do much, but I didn't expect it would.
Leaning forward, I place a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, pulling back to him blink rapidly, his mouth dropping open as he stares before a bark of astonished laughter bursts from his throat.
"Are you sure? You don't seem too thrilled with the idea."
"I'm not thrilled at all," I reply, feigning nonchalance and a yawn. "But I know men and their egos are very sensitive, and I can tell you want to go, so I'll bite my tongue … for now."
"Mm-hmm," he hums, casting me a look from the corner of his eye as he parks. "Right. You would almost be believable if you didn't mention biting your tongue. Since I've known you, you haven't kept quiet about anything."
At this, I snort.
Sure, I've been plenty vocal about many things, but there's also quite a bit I didn't say, and I tell him so.
"How much more could there be?" He questions, amazed.
I smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I would, actually. Sometimes, people shouldn't filter. You especially; I like hearing you speak your mind."
Raising an eyebrow, I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest, wondering if I should call bullshit on this.
From previous experience with me running my mouth around him, I know for a fact he's gotten super pissed over what I've said. Now, all of a sudden, he likes me speaking my mind?
Yeah, I doubt it.
"Bullshit," I respond with a laugh. "I've seen your face when I speak sometimes. You look pissed. You can't tell me you like me speaking my mind when it pisses you off."
"When you say something rude and bitchy, no, I don't like it," he amends. "Other times? Yeah, I do."
Suddenly, his gaze turns bashful, and it falls to his lap. He winces lightly and shoves a hand through his hair, turning his gaze completely away from me to stare out of the window. He almost looks as if he can't believe he said such a thing and wishes he could take it back.
Wanting to ease the mounting tension in the air, I nudge his arm. "You mean when it's not directed at you?"
Slowly, he nods, fighting a grin. "Precisely."
"Well, stop doing things that tick me off … like being yourself. You won't have a problem then."
Rolling his eyes, he opens the door, swinging out his body. "I'll work on that."
Leaning over the console, I call out, "you do that!"
He shuts the door in my face, and I cackle, feeling pretty pleased with myself. My glee hangs on as he shoots me irritated looks through the windshield as he stalks over to my side, but there's no force behind it. His eyes are light, and despite the pressed hard line of his lips, I notice the corners pulling upward.
Reaching for my door before I can, I wave an impatient hand. "The movie starts in five minutes. Let's go."
"Wow," I remark, exiting the car. "You were almost nice, asshole. Congrats."
Before he can respond, there's a raspy chuckle coming from my left. Turning, I see an older guy with thin, wispy white hair standing on the sidewalk; his wife tucked tightly into his side.
Seeing us looking, he flushes, shoving his free hand into his pocket. "Sorry, I didn't mean eavesdrop. I stopped when I heard a bit of your conversation. Reminds me of myself and Mary at your age," he says, gazing down at his wife with fondness and love. "We were doing the same thing you're doing now. It takes us back."
Edward smiles kindly at the couple while I shake my head.
"We're not together," I tell him. While the idea is nice, I can't see us together; we're too different and better off as kind of-friends, like we are now.
Besides, what makes people think we're together? We bicker more often than not. Does that scream "healthy relationship" to them?
Edward nods in agreement while the older man knowingly smirks, looking between us with a spark in his eye. "Ah, I see. My mistake. Enjoy your afternoon."
The man walks off, and Edward stares after him, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion and bewilderment. After the old guy disappears into the crowd, he turns to stare at me, the same puzzled gawking look on his face that turns pensive moments later.
"What?"
Shaking his head, he laughs lightly. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Uh-huh," I reply, not believing him at all. I want to press him for details and ask what the hell he was thinking so hard about, but I know it won't go over well. "Okay, well, are we going? You were in such a hurry earlier. Are you ready yet?"
Muttering under his breath, he jerks his head. "Go."
Leading the way to the theater, he walks in first, holding the door open behind him and stalking to the box office, where he purchases two tickets. Handing me one, he looks innocently confused as I glare.
"Now, what's your problem?"
"I can buy my own ticket."
"I know you can, but I suggested this trip, so, therefore, it's on me. Next time, you can pay."
"Next time?" I repeat, wondering how many of these days are going to happen.
"Yeah, if I'm not driven insane before everything is over, next time. How about this? You can buy your own snacks?"
Brightly, I grin, snatching my ticket from his fingers. "That's perfect, because I don't want any snacks."
Following behind me, he falls into step at my side. "And if you did want snacks, and I offered to buy them?"
"I would accept them. It's free food. I won't turn that down."
Shaking his head and fighting a smile, he nudges my shoulder with his own. "Come on, PITA. We're going to miss the movie."
"You say that like I should be ashamed," I gloat, walking past him into the theater. "I'm very proud of that title; thank you very much."
The theater is practically deserted, save for five other people in the darkened room. Three are sitting near the front, giggling and tossing popcorn at one another. The other two are sitting way up in the back row, too impatient for the movie to start to begin making out.
The sight of them practically swallowing each other's faces is too much to bear, so I look away with a groan of disgust and head toward the middle aisle, claiming a seat.
"I didn't peg you for a prude," Edward remarks, taking the seat next to me. He rests his arm next to mine on the armrest, his pinky finger lying precariously close to mine.
Lightly, I shiver and wonder if he's doing this on purpose, considering his affinity for teasing our short make-out sessions, but there's nothing in his gaze to suggest otherwise.
Surmising it must be my hormones acting up again, I clear my throat and shift sideways, subsequently moving my arm.
"I'm not," I counter, jerking my head toward the couple who has now moved on to groping. "But that isn't suitable for public. Tell me, do you want to see something like that? Or hear that during the entire movie?"
His nose scrunches, and he shudders, shaking his head. "You've got a point," he reluctantly admits before his face smoothes, and a devilish twinkle enters his eyes as he leans toward me. "So, what you're saying is you're not interested in making out?"
"With who? Someone down there?" I ask, pointing at the group of college kids down in front. "Nah, none are my type. That guy back there is already taken, so that's out of the question. Unless someone else comes in, that just leaves you …" I pause, raising an eyebrow. "Are you offering? ''Cause for someone so adamant that they don't like me, you're awfully pushy about this subject. I think you protest too much."
"I'm a guy; you're an attractive woman … when you're not being unpleasant. If you need someone to make out with, I will happily volunteer. After all, I have learned it's the easiest way to keep you quiet."
Pushing his face away with a grunt, I flick his noise once with my fingers. "You're disgusting. Go jump in the coldest ocean to control your hormones, Edward."
"Relax," he replies, taking my hand and squeezing once. "I won't try to make out with you unless you want to. Remember, I volunteer," he murmurs, lowering his voice and gazing at me through hooded eyes.
The feeling of his cool breath on my lips and the unique scent of him alert me on how close we really are. A part of me doesn't care and wants to close the distance. The memory of his kisses are still fresh in my mind, and warmth spreads throughout me, starting at my belly and growing outward.
My hormones are telling me to go for it, but the more logical side of me is warning me away. If I do this, if I give in, then I'll never hear the end of it. Instead, I want him to be in place, wanting and left annoyed.
"Edward?" I whisper, swallowing thickly on purpose to add to the situation. I almost laugh as his eyes darken further, but my humor is quickly dissolved as I note the intense passion radiating from his dark honey eyes.
"Yes?" he answers back, his tone just as breathy.
Seeing him react like this sets me afire, and for some strange reason, I feel confident and cocky. It makes me wonder if we've swapped too much saliva, and his arrogance has infiltrated my DNA.
I have a small inkling he wants this as much as I do, but I won't give in for two reasons.
One, because we're in public.
Two, because I don't want his ego to inflate any more than it already has.
The hormonal side of me will kill me later, but I'll survive.
"Desperate is not a good look for you," I continue in the same husky whisper.
Marginally, he jerks back and narrows his eyes, his lips twisting as he tries to appear infuriated. Rolling his eyes upward, he shakes his head and chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Just when I thought you couldn't get more annoying, you manage to surprise me."
Sliding my hand around his upper arm, I hug it tightly, laying my head on his shoulder. "Aw, you say the sweetest things," I coo, fluttering my eyelashes at him when he gazes down with a raised eyebrow.
"The movie is starting." His tone is monotone and unamused, but I'm not buying it.
I shake a finger in his direction. "You're just a sore loser."
"So this is a competition?"
"Isn't it? Aren't you the one keeping score on how much I like to kiss you?"
Slowly, his lips curl into a smile. "You like kissing me?"
"Your words, not mine," I quickly reply, settling into the seat as the lights dim and the upcoming movie trailers start.
I attempt to pull my arm free, so we can sit more comfortably, but Edward clamps down on my arm and shakes his head.
"You can't let go. I'll get scared; I need you to be my support system."
Snorting lightly, I dig my elbow into his side, which causes no reaction in him, except for the slight upturning of his lips.
"I can't believe you managed that lie with a straight face."
"What can I say?" he asks, stretching out his legs as much as he's able, which isn't very far thanks to the narrow aisles. "I'm a master."
"That, I believe. Now, be quiet and watch the movie."
"Me? You're the one that keeps talking."
"Shh!" Someone up front hisses, causing the others in the group to break out in raucous laughter.
Rolling my eyes, I flip them off, but due to the dark theater and the fact that they've turned around once more, it's useless. I don't care, though; it made me feel better, and to be honest, they deserve it.
We weren't that loud. Besides, it's only the previews.
"Settle down, tiger," Edward whispers in my ear. "I don't feel like fighting anyone for your honor today."
Condescendingly, I pat the arm I was conned into holding. "Don't worry; I'm more than capable of defending myself, so your perfect hair and pretty face are safe for another day."
He growls lightly, his head falling back. "You have a talent for twisting every single thing I say."
Blowing on my free hand, I rub my fingernails on my shirt in a cocky manner. "I'm a master."
He smirks but says nothing, his eyes intent on the screen as the opening credits ominously appear in faded white text, becoming clearer as the dramatic music increases.
The position my arm is in isn't the most comfortable. I pull it back and lay it down on the armrest next to his, trying to ignore the tingle. I don't know why he has this effect on me; maybe it's his cockiness or the fact that he's able to stand me in large doses when no one but my family can.
Maybe it's because of his good looks; no matter how much I want to deny and fight it, I'm not immune to his looks. What separates me from the others is that I don't let him get away with anything, and I don't make a fool of myself.
Or maybe … the tingling in my arm is due to the fact that it was being kept at an unnatural angle by a guy who thinks he's funny.
Yeah, that's probably it.
Realizing I'm spending too much thinking about this, I focus on the screen and soon get lost in the unique storyline. Before I know it, the end credits are rolling, and the lights are turned up into a tolerable dimness with just enough illumination to see where you're walking.
Immediately, I see Edward's hand covering mine and raise an eyebrow in question.
"Excuse me, can I have my hand back? And when exactly did this happen?" I ask, raising our joined hands in the air.
He sighs in mock disappointment. "I don't know what to tell you; you're too easily distracted, and you're just not observant. The good news is, however, that I've found another way to keep you quiet. Just sit you in front of the television like a toddler," he coos, reaching to pinch my cheek.
I dodge out of the way, slapping at his hand. "You're such an asshole. You better watch yourself," I warn, removing my hand from his and standing. "You're going to have something lodged somewhere very uncomfortable one day."
"According to my brother, it's already there."
"Wait, let me put on my surprised face," I deadpan, keeping my face as neutral as possible.
Snorting a laugh, he waves ahead. "Come on, ball-buster. Let's go."
"You know," I pause at the end of the aisle, tapping my chin with my index finger. "You should take my inobservance as a slight toward you."
He cocks his head to the side, questions radiating from his expression. "Really? How so?"
"I was so unimpressed by you and so impressed by a movie that I didn't even notice you," I reply brightly, shooting him a beaming smile as I skip toward the theater exit.
At the door, I notice he's not behind me, and I turn back, finding him frozen at the end of the aisle, his mouth opening and closing like I fish.
"Come on, Romeo. You can buy me lunch as a way to make up for the emotional trauma you caused me," I call out, snickering.
At my voice, he snaps out of his gaze, and speed walks toward me. "What emotional trauma?"
"Of holding your hand, of your general presence, of—" I'm ticking the items off on my fingers, but Edward places his hand over my mouth, halting any further progress.
"I didn't know it was such a chore to be around me."
"It's not. You're not intolerable when you're quiet," I tease, paraphrasing his words from earlier.
A strange combination of a sigh, laughter, and a grumble escapes him. I wasn't even sure it was possible for someone to make such a sound, but leave it to Edward.
Overachiever.
Two theater workers step inside, but immediately back-pedal, seeing us still in the entrance of the theater.
"Oh, uh, we need to clean the theater before you can go in," one of them says, nervously glancing down the hall. The broom and dustpan handles shake in his grip, and in the faint light, I can see a sheen of sweat break out across his forehead.
I'm willing to bet a manager is watching them carefully, considering the theater wasn't very clean when we arrived.
"We're just leaving, but he's afraid there's a monster in the hallway. He scares so easily," I say, jerking a thumb toward Edward. "I told him I'd scope things for him. Give me a second, will you?"
All traces of nervousness forgotten, the employees nod slowly, casting suspiciously wary glances at Edward.
"You're not really scared, are you?"
Edward looks at the poor boy like he's stupid. "No. She thinks she's hilarious when in reality, she has the wit of a child."
Stalking out of the theater, I burst out into laughter and tug on his jacket when we're outside. "Come on, put aside your fragile ego for a second, okay? It was hilarious. They thought I was telling the truth. I mean, really? You don't look like you're scared of anything."
"I'm scared of a few things," he contradicts, staring unblinkingly. "I'm always finding new things that frighten me."
"Am I included?" I jokingly ask, feeling uncomfortable with the severity of gaze.
As soon as the question leaves my lips, I realize it was the wrong one to ask. His serious expression deepens, but he attempts to lighten the mood.
"Completely. You're a scary individual. Not physically speaking, more mentally. I think you should consult a doctor."
Broadcasting my middle finger, I sarcastically laugh and look away, but not before I see him swallow thickly and turn his eyes to the ground.
Suddenly, the air around us gets heavy and uncomfortable, something that hasn't happened in quite a bit. Shifting from my right foot to my left, I bite the inside of my cheek and resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest.
"Do you really think that?" He asks after several tense moments that carried on forever. "That's I'm not afraid of anything?"
"Yeah," I reply, the "duh" in my tone apparent. "You're strong; a lot stronger than what you see yourself being."
A shyness I didn't expect flitters across his face. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he turns away; his head ducked down between hunched shoulders.
Realizing I must have embarrassed him, I quickly attempt to fix the situation.
"Can I take that back? It sounded too much like a compliment, and I can't give you compliments."
Awkwardness gone, he turns to stare at me with pursed lips. "Why can't you give me compliments?"
"Because you'll get cocky, and I can't be around you when your ego inflates. Plus, I have a reputation to uphold. If this got out—"
"No one would believe it anyway," he smoothly cuts in. "Don't worry; your kind heart is safe with me."
I snort at that. I'm not sure I have a kind heart. A bitchy, bitter one, maybe. But kind? Highly unlikely.
Slowly, that infuriating cocky smirk grows on his lips and moves toward me, his face inches from mine. "And no, you can't take it back. It's already out there, seared into my memory. You think I'm brave," he says in a slight sing-song tone.
"I also think you're an ass, but that keeps getting forgotten."
He shrugs a single shoulder. "I have a selective memory."
"I'll keep reminding you, then." I pat his shoulder once. "It's my favorite pastime."
At that moment, my stomach grumbles loudly, and I throw my hands over my midsection in an attempt to quiet it. Edward laughs, throwing an arm over my shoulder and guiding me down the street.
"Come on; I'll buy you lunch."
I stop, digging my phone from my pocket and turning the device up before going anywhere else, I should see if everything is okay at my house. I'm not really worried about my parents; my mom is tough, and my dad can hold his own. But my grandparents?
They don't stand a chance.
I'm not a big fan of the attitudes of either of my grandmothers, but I don't want them to leave upset. Although, if Grandmother decided to leave and Grandpa stayed, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, in my opinion.
There are no missed calls from my parents, which I'm not sure is a good or bad thing. It's been a little over two hours since I left, so they could still be hashing things out.
Deciding to take the chance and find out, I dial Mom's cell, and she picks up on the first ring. Edward takes a couple of steps back in an effort to give me privacy, but it's not needed. I shake my head, and he stops, leaning against the building.
"Bella, honey, how are you?"
Her voice is normal, with no hints of frustration or upset.
"I'm good, how are things there?" I ask, kicking at the concrete with the back of my shoe.
In fake solemnity, Edward shakes his head and covers his eyes, making me smile.
"Things are … okay," Mom starts, hesitant. "Your Grandmother left. She didn't like how we were speaking to her and left for Seattle. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. If she can't get over whatever issue she has, then it'll be her loss; we're her only family besides Grandpa, and if she can't accept the way things are, then she'll be very lonely."
Mom chuckles, the sound low and tired. "You sound like your father."
"Weird. It's like he and I are related or something."
"Smart-Alek." She pauses, blowing out a breath. "The talk with your Gran is taking longer than we thought, though. Would you mind staying out a little longer?"
"No, that's fine."
"Thank you, baby. I'll text you when you should come back, okay?"
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
Edward pushes off the wall and gestures ahead. "Ready to eat?"
My stomach answers for me, and nothing more needs to be said. I follow him down the block to my favorite café, my mouth salivating at the rich aroma wafting through the air. I race ahead into the building, ignoring the chuckles following after me.
Thanks to the familiar face behind the counter and my never-changing order, my food and drink are ready in no time. Taking the table in the back corner, I immediately start eating and notice Edward is waiting at the counter, irregularly rapping a knuckle against the surface.
Every so often, he'll cast a glance at me, and his knocking will pick up in a more frenzied and uneven pace.
Two minutes into standing, the flustered and slightly nervous looking waitress slides over a paper cup, her smile turning into a more genuine one once he slides a few bills into the tip jar and walks away.
I'm extremely curious to find out what he's doing and what he's gotten.
So far, I've hardly ever seen him with any type of food or drink product, except for the rare occasion. I can't help but wonder what makes this situation so special.
"You didn't waste any time," he remarks, sliding into the chair across from me, both of his hands wrapped around the cup like a lifeline.
I swallow the mouthful and shake a finger in his direction; all previous thoughts momentarily are forgotten. "You're not supposed to comment on a girl's eating habits. You're so uncivilized."
His expression turns humorously mocking. "My apologies."
"Not accepted, but I appreciate the sentiment."
In our close quarters, I detect the strong and flavorful scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and black tea. Immediately, I know what it is.
Foggy Morning Tea; it's a favorite of mine, a beverage I love on extremely cold days … but why would Edward have it?
Internally, I berate myself. There are a handful of drinks with that flavor combination. Just because I happen to like that tea and that he might have gotten it doesn't mean anything.
To be sure, I study the ordinary tan cup closely, and sure enough, I spot the thin white string of the teabag underneath his palm.
Raising an eyebrow, I bite off a small part of my egg and sausage sandwich, nodding toward the cup in his hands.
"I didn't figure you for a tea drinker."
His mouth slackens, and he blinks rapidly, looking from me to the cup in his hands. "You can smell this?"
"I do have normal senses, and," I trail off in a whisper, leaning over the table toward him. "In close conditions such as this and something as fragrant as that I can smell it. Plus, the white string tipped me off."
Rolling his eyes, he sits back, releasing his right hand to run through his hair, but the other remains in place.
"You'll go places, Swan."
"Hope so. Tell me, why that drink?"
He shrugs a shoulder. "Don't know. I thought it sounded good."
"And yet you haven't tried it."
Unblinkingly, he stares. "It's too hot."
"But not hot enough for you to let go."
Annoyance flickers on his face. "Stop paying attention to my drinking habits and focus on your own meal."
I take a bite and a hefty swallow of my drink. "So touchy."
"And you're nosy. I don't want to drink it now, okay?"
"That's fine." After a moment, the irritation still hasn't faded from his features, and I feel a fraction of guilt for being so pushy. "I'm sorry. I was only teasing. Kind of. Just ignore me, okay?"
"That's kind of hard to do," he starts, his focus solely on the cup he's holding. His face is obscured, and I hate it; I need to see his face in order to tell what his mood is and what he's up to.
Weirdly, my heart stutters in my chest at his words, and the intake of breath I take comes out in a sharp gasp. Thankfully, I wasn't eating or drinking anything; I surely would have choked.
Why had I reacted that way? Why had he said that?
A multitude of possibilities enter my mind on what they could mean, but strangely enough, all I circle back to, is the fact that maybe he might like me.
I roll my eyes internally, hating to sound like such a typical high school girl. I don't want to think this way, and I curse him for making me feel so anxious and unsure of myself.
"Why is that?" I try to make my question seem as nonchalant as possible, but I can hear the slight hint of nerves in my tone.
Pinching myself in reprimand, I wait for his answer by continuing to eat my meal. After my second bite, I narrow my eyes at the shaking of his shoulders and the full-fledged grin I can see through the hand trying to cover his face.
"You're hard to ignore because you're so outspoken and loud. Not to mention, brash, abrasive—"
Waving my hands in the air, I interrupt, resisting the urge to throw something at him. "I get it, jerk. For those very same reasons, you're also hard to ignore. But we can't forget your asshole-like qualities too."
"You better not," he playfully scolds. Seconds later, his features turn wolfish, and I know the next words from his mouth won't be anything good. "You also forget my good looks and excellent kissing skills."
I snort into my drink. "Eh. I've seen better-looking guys … and your kissing skills are sub-par, at best."
"You don't seem to mind," he says innocently.
"Moments of insanity; that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." I quickly finish up and stand, throwing my garbage away in a nearby trashcan. "You can drop me off wherever, I guess. I'll go home when my parents text me."
Edward shakes his head before I'm through. "Nope. I'm kidnapping you for the afternoon, so you have to come with me. Sorry."
He walks ahead, opening the door and stepping aside as I pass. "You're awfully presumptuous, you know."
His lips purse slightly, and he shrugs once, leading the way back to his car. "I figure you'd tell me to go screw myself if you didn't want to do it … and so far, you haven't."
Bobbing my head in agreement, I grin. "You get me," I reply, making my tone overly sweet.
"And it's only sometimes I wish I didn't," he teases.
Edward speeds away from Port Angeles, the tires squealing against the pavement once we exit the city limits. I roll my eyes at his silly grin, but I can't help but smile as well. The feeling of speeding down the road is a feeling like no other; for me, it represents freedom and peace.
With nothing between you and the road, as well as the feeling of wind rushing past you, it evokes a feeling of serenity you can't duplicate, and I love it.
"We're going back to Forks?" I question, noting the familiar sights that take us back home.
I'm a little disappointed, to be honest; there's a lot more to do in Port Angeles.
"For a little bit. I need to pick up something at my house first."
Murmuring an acknowledgment, I sit back and softly sing along to the radio, ignoring Edward's chuckles as I sing off-key a few times. Instead of trying my best, I purposefully miss the notes, enjoying his discomfort when he cringes more than once.
After the song ends, he turns down the radio. "Okay, enough music. Let's just have quiet time."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn in my seat and wave a hand toward the radio, "I'd like to hear you sing, Mr. Perfect."
Silently accepting my challenge, he turns the music up slightly, a soft and comforting melody filling the interior. When he sings along with the artist, he sounds slightly better but not as great as the singer.
Instead, his voice is warmer and deeper, sending shivers down my spine.
"Figures, he's good at this too," I mutter, sinking into the seat and lightly sighing as I continue to listen. I remember hearing about him singing at the hospital fair for the kids in Port Angeles, so obviously, he would have a decent voice.
The longer I listen, the more I recognize something familiar about his tone as his voice trails off into a hum at a particular part.
When the song concludes, I don't open my eyes straight away; instead, I keep racking my brain, trying to figure out why his voice sounds so damn familiar. I'm absolutely positive I've never heard him sing, and I know for certain he's never done it at school or when we were working on our project together, so where have I heard it?
"Aw, look, you're entranced by me. Now you just have to admit it, and we can begin our torrid love affair."
I don't open my eyes, but I can tell by the cockiness in the tenor of his words that he's smirking. Instead of acknowledging him verbally, I shoot him my middle finger, still trying to think.
Is it just in my head? Have I gone insane? Or have I dreamed about it?
My eyes pop open at the thought; after Royce's attack and after what happened on Halloween, I had terrible nightmares. Suddenly, the nightmares dissipated and were erased as a song entered my head. I can't remember how it goes, but I'm willing to bet Edward was the one humming it.
But why? What purpose could he have by being in my room at night?
I shiver at the thought, not wanting to think about it.
In response to my crude action and oblivious to my thoughts, he pokes my side once, and I have to bite my lip to hold in the chuckles the action evokes.
"Look at that; you're ticklish."
"How old are you? Four? Keep your hands to yourself and focus on the road."
"I'll have you know, I'm a fabulous driver … and I can multitask."
"I know. You do day-to-day things and piss me off at the same time. You're a master."
Playfully, he waggles his eyebrows. "I knew you'd come around, but now isn't the time, servant. Later, okay? The car is so cramped to do anything strenuous."
Unable to help myself, I snort. "You're such a dork."
After a beat of silence, I continue, though I tread carefully, trying to rein in my anger. "You sing really well. What was that other song you sang around me that one time? I've been trying to place the name of it."
His eyebrows pull together, and he shakes his head. "I haven't sung anything around you since—"
He cuts off suddenly, his lips mashed together, his jaw sticking out, and his knuckles turning bone-white against the steering wheel as his grip tightens.
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.
"You've … been … in … my … room," I grind out, fury coiling within me, ready to snap.
Busted! Edward's in trouble and they're both in serious denial. Don't worry, though. It's not a permanent state. ;)
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please stay safe and I'll see you next time!