Chapter 15.

I find Edward on the couch, one leg stretched, his hand rubbing on it. His head is rested back as he stares at the ceiling. He must be so exhausted. I can't believe the night this ended up to be.

I make it to the couch and sit on my knees next to him. He makes no movement to acknowledge my presence. "Thank you," I start, reaching for his arm. "For helping me with Emmett."

The tingle I felt earlier tonight, from the contact of his skin, is back, and makes the hair on my arm stand on its ends. I cowardly withdraw, clasping my hands between my legs.

I am not ready to admit or pretend to know what is happening between us, but I also can't deny it any longer — there's a connection I feel with him, one that I have not felt in a long time.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask, since he still faces the ceiling.

He takes a deep breath before he faces me. "I keep promising myself I won't do this... that I won't get in between you two, but somehow I always do, and I hate it."

"I'm sorry." I stare at my hands guiltily. Of course he hates it, and I keep dragging him into it.

"I just need to ask one thing," he says unwaveringly. "I know it's none of my business, and if you don't want to answer, that's fine."

"What is it?" My voice is barely a whisper under the force of his stare.

"Are you two getting back together?" His eyes bore into mine as he utters the words.

I don't even have to think about it. "No."

After tonight, if there's one thing I know is this — Emmett and I, we'll never be a couple again. I will do anything in my power to remain his friend, to have him in my life, and be there for him, but I can't give him anything more than that.

We will both be okay. He will be okay.

Edward releases a breath in front of me, and I don't know if he's relieved or troubled by what I just said.

His fingers scratch his forehead as he looks down. I wish I could say something that would make him feel better, but honestly, as much as everything about Emmett is clear in my head, everything about Edward is just a big mess.

When did it get so complicated between us?

In the four years I've known him, he's always been so distant, so avoiding of me. I search my brain for any time in those four years where there had been any sign, any connection between us. And except for the time we met, I come up empty handed.

"I need to ask something too," I say, almost a whisper.

His eyes burn into mine, but he remains quiet.

"When we first met, I thought that maybe you and I... then um... when Emmett first asked me out, he made it sound like... I thought it might be like a group date... I thought..."

"You thought what?"

"I thought you'd be there too..." I remember it as if it was yesterday. I remember how his eyes bore into mine, just as they do now. Why was he hiding before? Why have I never felt that again until now? I felt a connection with him that day. I even still have the picture I took of him with the kids.

He covers his face with his hands.

"But then when we did see each other again... you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there... so then I assumed I had imagined the whole thing..." I trail off as the memories of that first day hit me.

He scoots closer. " "You didn't, Isabella, you hadn't" His hand reaches for my face, his thumb on my cheek. "I had to keep a distance though. He's my best friend. I couldn't... I… I can't." His hand drops from my cheek and he gets up.

I sigh looking down.

A loud knocking on the door makes me jump from the couch. My hand is on the side of my face, where my cheek still tingles from the touch of Edward's fingers.

I can hear singing from the other side of the door. The knocking continues and I turn to look at Edward, hoping for some guidance. I find none, as he is back on the couch, his head is down in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

I open the door, because what else am I supposed to do, and in comes Seth, completely wasted, yet energized enough to be chanting the Champions League anthem at the top of his lungs.

He flies past me, almost knocking me over, heading straight for Emmett's room.

"Yeah, he's out cold…" Seth says, as he comes back out. "We're going to the pool. You guys wanna come?" He asks, his eyes thinned into slits.

"It's past four in the morning..." Edward mutters under his breath.

"Alright, grandpa... what do you say, Bella?"

I shake my head at Seth with a small smile.

Just as suddenly as he came in, he's gone.

I'm left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, while Edward, still on the couch, rubs his neck without looking at me.

"Maybe I should go too..." I say.

I notice his struggle to get up from the couch. His hand on his hip, his face in a frown and he doesn't object to me leaving.

"Are you ok?" I ask, and he avoids my eyes as he nods, slightly composing his face. "Is your hip bothering you?"

"I'm fine." He walks to the door without limping, and I follow in silence. "Are you staying with Alice?" His eyes finally meet mine as he opens the door for me.

"Edward, you don't have to-"

"It's okay, let's go." With a tiny smile that looks like it took a lot of effort to put there, and a hand at the small of my back, he steers me out of the room.

We walk in silence to the elevator. He stays close to me, but his mind seems to be a million miles away. I twist and untwist my fingers, fidgeting and biting my lip, the few seconds it takes the elevator to make it to the seventh floor. Edward stays completely still and tense.

"Thank you," I say when we arrive at Alice's door.

He smiles again, forcefully, with a nod. My stomach churns — he's trying so hard.

As I turn away from him, and my hand lifts to knock on the door, the noise that comes from inside halts my fist in the air. Some piece of furniture is clearly banging against the wall.

Oh...

I take one step back, dropping my hand altogether, as I clearly make out the moans coming from the inside.

Oh shit...

Edward exhales; leaning onto the wall, and softly bangs his forehead against it.

Clearly the possibility of me going back to the room with him is not his preferred option.

I fish for my cell in my purse. "I can call her, and they'll have to stop."

Edward groans, pushing himself off the wall. When he faces me, he has only marginally composed his face. "I think we should let Jasper have this." He reaches for my hand and gestures with his head to the hallway. "Come."

He lets go of my hand after a few steps. With each one he tenses further, and by the time we make it to the elevator, he is full on limping.

With the ding of the closing doors, he rests against the elevator wall with a deep exhale of relief.

"You're not okay." I know he doesn't want me to worry, and he's been trying really hard to pretend that he is fine, but he's not. He's clearly in pain, and I don't know how to help him.

"I'm f-"

"I swear to God, Edward, if you tell me you're fine one more time!"

His eyes widen at my outburst.

The elevator dings again as the doors open, and I hold the door with my hand.

He limps out, his hand gripping his hip tightly. At least he's not pretending anymore.

"Is there something you can take?" I ask as we get back in their suite.

"It's too soon," he says turning around to face me. "It's always worse after a game... especially one like today's... or yesterday's..." His free hand works on loosening his tie further and swings it off his neck. "I can take something in a couple of hours. It will pass, okay, please don't worry."

I huff, my hands on my hips.

"You can take my bed," he continues. "I could give you a shirt, if you want to... um... change out of that dress." His eyes betray him as they scan my dress, until he stares at his feet, scratching his neck. "Or you could get one of Emmett's'" He shrugs.

"I'm not taking your bed, Edward." I sigh.

"I won't even be able to sleep... Please, just-" When he winces again, grabbing onto his hip, as he shifts his weight to one leg, my body moves to him on its own.

My instincts kick in and, with a hand on his arm, I help him to the couch. "Just sit for a second, okay?"

He sinks on the couch with a huff. His head resting back as he stretches his leg, lifting it from the floor, as his hand rubs the top of his thigh. I pull the coffee table closer, so that his foot can rest on top of it. "Does that help?"

He looks at the table with a smile, and then turns to me. "It does, thank you."

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" I sit on my knees, next to him.

"I have two hours to kill..." His eyes bore into mine. "I could use a distraction."

I blink a couple times, because his words mean so little but so much at the same time. That weird tension sets between us again, and the little space between him and I on this couch is charged, buzzing. My hands twitch over my knees and he swallows hard.

"I'm sorry," he blinks, looking down, finally releasing me from the numbing force of being under his gaze. "I didn't mean... that's not..."

"No..." I shake my head. "I know. A distraction — that's exactly what we need." I reach for the remote on the carpet and sit back next to him. I turn the TV on and try to rest my feet on the coffee table, mimicking his pose, except my legs aren't long enough.

He chuckles next to me, my legs opting for a bent position instead, as I flip the channels.

At least I got him to chuckle, and the weird tension between us starts to dissipate.

On ESPN, they're interviewing Ronaldo, the defeat is clear in his eyes.

"We tried... but we couldn't create enough opportunities. I had no luck on either flank. Their pressing was superb, and left little room for me to do anything."

"That's you." I nudge Edward on his side. "He means you!"

"It was a team effort..."

"Edward, you... you kept Ronaldo, THE Cristiano Ronaldo, from scoring."

"He deserves all the hype he gets, by the way. He is absolutely brilliant. I never had to work so hard to mark anyone ever before."

"Yet you did. You completely owned him. You!"

"All right, stop." He smiles, taking the remote from me, and I could swear there's a bit of a blush setting on his cheeks.

"You were incredible today." I say with a sigh, resting my head to the side. He truly was.

He flips channels for a while and we remain in silence. My eyes start fluttering close despite my efforts. It's been a long day, and as much as I want to keep him company until he can take his pain meds, at some point I lose the battle with sleep.

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