Chapter 15 - He floats
Anthony Cullen Edward. No. Cullen Edward Anthony? Anthony. Anthony.
She tilts her head and tastes a tongue to hers. She curls her lips and pops off his. Jameson comes in for a finishing peck and stands to jump into the lake.
Edward Anthony. Edward. It has to be ...
All the while she thinks. She lies on the dock staring up at the sky through shades. Images behind her lids are always of the stranger … or Edward. No, Anthony. Maybe.
Lauren has invited someone for the summer. Bella listened to all the splashing earlier, Jen beside her watching. Maybe a little put off. Jen rolled her eyes the entire time behind her shades. Now Bella and Jameson are alone because Jen stormed off to do something, and Lauren left hand in hand with Riley.
Bella knows a secret. Well, she knows a big one and that one is probably sitting in a tent now. But she knows one of Jen and Riley … once upon a time. Riley was her first kiss at that birthday party in middle school. He moved away, came back, but came back as this obnoxious, Ivy League alum this coming fall.
"How … awesome," Jen said flatly when they sat around the pit last night. Lauren smiled the entire time at Riley. Poor girl has always been a little bit lost, never really getting it. Not even the very obvious sarcasm from Jen. "Now you can actually pay for your education by screwing every co-ed roommate," she finished telling him. Riley's jaw sharpened. Lauren's dropped, and she laughed. Clueless.
That leaves Bella and Jameson more alone time.
It's fine. They need it. Bella is otherwise occupied with her time and Jameson is starting at Boston University and already prepping with books. His goal; medical school.
Bella's goal; to break Cullen. Yeah. Cullen.
She can't decide next year where she'll apply. Maybe a handful and see how it works out. She wants to work with people. That, she knows.
That feeling grapples again. The one that tells her there's someone watching.
She turns her head slightly and basks in it.
No one is around but James floating on his back. It's almost supper, but the sun is high up and stinging. He smiles from his spot. His fingers beckon her inside. She grins, and maybe she should give him a show.
Cullen, not her boyfriend.
She splashes in without a stitch of clothing.
That night, in the early hours after midnight, the temperature is still high and sticky. It doesn't let up. Edward takes his time walking to the shore. Beads of sweat trickle down his back and neck. He welcomes it. This is better than praying for warmth in the dead of winter.
He did so much tonight. Maybe the adrenaline from frustration, or the sight of skin she revealed; the dip of her back, the curves of her legs. He doesn't know. But he's here, cooling down, standing just where she laid on the dock.
He pulls off the polo, then the belt he grabbed from a closet to keep the loose pants on. They grow big during winters. He drops those along with his underwear.
The moon barely brightens the still waters, but it's enough for him. He needs but a slight glow to see and know where he is.
He floats, stretches out his tired limbs. Everyone assumes this is best to do when the sun is high. He disagrees. He looks up; the stars are so big and bright, every constellation watches him from above.
Eventually, unbeknownst to him, he drifts toward the very spot Bella swayed her arms wide and thought of him. The water warmly cradled them both the same.
….