-TWO-
Bella doesn't even notice how long her friends are gone. Edward sits with her, and together they talk and laugh and flirt until Bella is breathless. She wants him.
She's never had casual sex before. It's something that used to scare her. Now, she couldn't care less about the consequences. Nothing has ever felt so right, so sure.
"So how does an American wind up working at the National Museum of Scotland?" Edward asks, leaning toward her. His knees knock against hers in the high chairs they are still sitting in, and she lets her own knees linger there, keeping the contact open.
"The right position opened up," she says, shrugging lightly. "It was the perfect opportunity. I got to travel and work under one of the best in my field. Win, win."
Edward smirks, leaning against the back of his chair. "The right position?" He repeats her words, and she blushes when she hears how suggestive they sound. He flashes her a lopsided grin.
"So that's what you want? To work in a museum?"
She sees an opportunity, and though she's still flushed from fresh embarrassment, she reaches forward, pressing her palm into his strong thigh. She feels his muscles flex under her touch.
"What I want is to get out of here," she whispers. She feels like this right here is more bold than she's ever been. More bold than moving across the world, living in a foreign country completely on her own. That was easy compared to the breathless anticipation in her, waiting for him to either take her up on her offer or reject her.
Edward's hand skates down his own thigh until his fingers are covering hers. Her hand is warm from his hand above and burning from his thigh underneath. Her fingers flex under his, wiggling in anticipation.
"Let's go," he murmurs.
It's like the world has dropped out from under her. She's breathless, weightless, floating.
"Wait," she whispers, leaning toward him. She needs to be sure, and if she can be sure with one more act of bravery, well then…
She leans into him, pressing her lips to his, and the chemistry between them is so instant, so perfect, that she gasps. Sometimes it's not like that. Sometimes there is no spark, no matter how much you want there to be.
But between Edward and Bella rages an inferno.
They melt into each other, lost to the sensation of finding such perfect balance in life: their other half. It's life-altering, and they both sink into it.
When they pull apart, they stay close, both taking a minute with eyes closed to gather themselves. Eventually, their eyes open and they gaze at each other in a new light and awareness.
"Let's go," Edward whispers again, his hand finding hers. She lets their fingers intertwine, and it feels so intimate and foreshadowing that she shivers.
Hand-in-hand, they slip from the bar. Bella never even looks for her friends. She'll call them in the morning if they are worried.
Outside, the night air has gotten colder, and the rain is still coming down. They huddle together under the eaves, ducking the smokers.
"Here," Bella says, pulling out her umbrella. It's only enough to comfortably cover one, but they decide to walk together, curl into each other under the slight protection.
They take their first step, then their next. At first, they are disjointed; he has a long stride and she has small, quick steps. Three of hers is one of his, and it takes them a minute to figure out how to pace together.
By the next block, they've figured out a rhythm.
His right shoulder is getting soaked, and she can feel her purse being rained on as she wears it on her left arm. None of that matters because under the umbrella, their fingers are wrapped together around the handle, and the fog from their breath is mingling as they laugh.
They are both giddy, like children, as they sneak off into the night. They haven't discussed a destination; they are just moving, caught up in the now.
They pass by the cathedral, and Bella can't stop herself from glancing up at it. Edward slows down, halting to look up with her.
"It's beautiful," Bella says.
"Yeah, I've always liked it," Edward agrees.
Bella glances at him. "I mean, I know it's not the most beautiful cathedral out there, but there's something about it, you know?"
He turns his gaze to her, and when he speaks, she knows he's no longer talking about the church.
"It's special," he says softly.
The bottom of her stomach drops a little and she licks her lips.
"My flat is that way," she says, pointing north.
Edward smiles.
"Lead the way."