Chapter 27.
We get dropped at my place after the party and Edward is quiet as we go up the stairs. When I open the door, he holds it for me and as I get in, he closes it behind him.
I step out of my heels, releasing a breath as my feet meet the comforts of the carpet, when I realize he still stands awkwardly a few feet away from the door, one hand behind his neck, the other in his pocket.
When he turns to look at me, his face is an adorable combination of shyness and uncertainty. Or maybe it's something else altogether, but desperate to make him feel at home, I step closer and reach for his neck.
"Maybe you should get a little comfortable?" My fingers work the knot of his tie, releasing one of the buttons from his collar.
He exhales through his nose — eyes hooded — his body bending onto me. Stretching on my tiptoes, I close the distance between our lips.
He is unresponsive at first, but all of the sudden, with a little groan, one of his hands is on my back pulling me to him. The other one shields the back of my head as he presses us against the door.
He leaves my mouth, only to breathe into my neck, and after ridding me of his jacket, he kisses the skin under my ear.
He uses one hand to hold us up against the door, while the other goes under my leg and with incredible ease, lifts me up so that my legs are straddling his left thigh as he presses his knee on the door.
He grunts against my collarbone; his lips never stop moving against my skin. I gasp for air, my body suspended over his, grabbing onto his shoulders.
The next noises I hear aren't coming from Edward, but from the creature at our feet, wrestling with his jacket.
"Wrinkles, no!"
Edward lowers me gently, panting slightly against my neck, before he chuckles.
"Stop it!" I crouch in front of Wrinkles — who is actively munching on Edward's jacket — and try to remove it from his teeth.
"Poor pup just needs some attention," Edward says above me, while I finally release his jacket. "Just like you said."
I fold the jacket over the couch and turn to look at him. "I'm sorry."
"Ah, don't worry about it. It's not like it's my favorite suit or anything." He shrugs casually, rolling his sleeves up. I can see he is still panting.
I palm my forehead, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Maybe I should make some tea?"
"Tea sounds great," he says with that sweet smile of his.
Okay. Tea I should be able to do.
I nod and head for the kitchen while he remains behind with Wrinkles in the living room. I smile as I remember when he stayed in my apartment in Frankfurt after my graduation; I had also made him tea.
I peek out the kitchen door while the water boils. Edward is crouched next to the couch, Wrinkles on two paws in front of him, getting his head scratched. As Edward gets back up, my stomach sinks when his face contours in pain and his hand flies to his hip. I can almost make out his hiss of pain from here.
I can't believe how foolish I've been.
Here I was, thinking he might be nervous about spending the night with me, when he's actually been struggling to keep his pain from me.
As the kettle goes off, I set two mugs, while in my head, I go over every possibility of approaching this.
He's made our night a dream. A perfect one, really. But I don't know at what cost. And I don't want to be the one to ruin his effort now.
I peek back out, and he is holding onto the couch, shoulders slumped, trying to regain his breath.
His head snaps up as he hears me come out and he straightens his back. The smile that appears on his face breaks my heart.
When I hand him the mug, his hand is in a tight fist around the handle, and it looks like it might be shaking a little.
I will not let him do this. "Edward, stop pretending, please."
He frowns, staring right back at me. His eyes give him away though — he knows he is busted.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I am," he answers, swiftly and stubbornly.
"Don't lie to me."
He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing out harshly through a groan.
"Have you been in pain all night?" My voice is barely a whisper.
"No…" When his eyes meet mine, he reconsiders. "A little."
"Did you take something?"
"I did before flying here, and I can take something else soon. It wasn't that bad, I promise."
"Is it bad now? Don't lie to me."
"It's not horrible. The meds are wearing off and it's becoming uncomfortable," he admits.
"But you were drinking." I replay our night in my head. He never drinks when he's on pain medication. I thought...
"I wasn't," he states plainly. "Rum and coke without rum is just plain ol' soda." He shrugs at his attempt of a joke. When I look at him, he tries for a smile that is almost convincing.
"Ugh, Edward…" I drop my head in one hand, my brain trying to figure out how I managed to miss this tonight.
He never once showed any sign of discomfort — He never sat either.
"Hey," his tone is sweet as he moves closer, one hand cupping my face. "Please, don't worry about this."
I sigh, looking into his eyes.
"I won't tell you I'm fine, okay? But I am good enough. Can we please just sit and have some tea?"
I'm helpless against his eyes when they beg me like this, so I give up and make my way around the couch.
He sits down carefully, not pretending anymore, but also not giving much else away. He shifts a couple times, until he finds a position that seems comfortable enough.
"So, what happens now?" He sips from his tea, turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" I ask in confusion, knowing very well he is trying to distract me... or perhaps even the both of us.
"With the money you raised. How long until they start building the sports facility?" He seems a little tense in his posture, but his voice is controlled.
"Oh… I don't know." I still can't believe we raised all that money. "But since we made more than we needed, I am guessing pretty soon."
"That's really great, Isabella." He smiles sweetly, turning the mug in his hands. "When do the kids get to know?"
He seems genuinely excited about this. I could almost kiss him.
"Tomorrow, actually," I start, shaking my head slightly. "There's an event at the old training grounds with a fair for the kids and a few games… even pictures with a big, cardboard check."
"Were you planning to attend this event?" His question seems sincere, but I can't decide if he's actually disappointed I didn't include this in our plans.
"I was able to get out of it," I explain. "I wasn't sure if you'd like to be dragged to that?"
"Dragged?" Raising both eyebrows, his question comes out in shock. "Isabella, I can't think of better ways to spend my Sunday than taking pictures with a big, fat, cardboard check." The smile that spreads on his face brightens the room.
"So, you would like to go to this," I repeat, just to make sure.
"I would love to!" His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can't keep the smile from my face.
"You're unbelievable."
"Me? You are! This is one great cause, Isabella. I'm just excited and proud to know you and to know you are part of this."
"Stop it..." I shake my head, staring into my mug, trying to hide my blush. "Would you like to be part of the event tomorrow then?"
"Do you need someone to hold the check?" He smirks adorably at me.
"I'm serious!" You adorable, adorable man.
"So am I. Whatever you need me for tomorrow, I'm game." He sets his mug on the coffee table and subtly rubs his hand over his thigh.
"Okay. Let me text Tanya." I reach for my phone on the side table and start typing a brief description of a surprise appearance tomorrow. "She might be able to set something up. Maybe you could do a signing?"
"Tanya?"
"From my department," I explain dismissively as I send her a text.
"Oh, right. Yeah, you do that. It would be nice to see her again." He flashes a smile that doesn't falter under my glare. "You really did get jealous," he adds, his smile impossibly bigger. "You're funny."
"It isn't funny…" I say, embarrassed, looking down as he scoots closer.
"You have absolutely nothing to worry about." His index finger pulls under my chin, making me face him, as he wets his lips and presses them against mine. I melt under his fingers as they caress my neck. They travel their way down, behind me, to my lower back, where he holds me closer as he pushes us down.
I lean back into the arm of the couch, gasping while he kisses my neck. He climbs over me, groaning into my neck and kissing my collarbone. My fingers fist his hair, pulling his face up to meet mine, and my lips collapse with his roughly.
He holds on to my waist, his fingers gripping my dress, as he presses himself on me. I can feel him harden under his pants. His mouth devours mine until suddenly he stops. His whole body stills, and when he shudders, the hand that was fisting the fabric of my dress is instantly gone.
His head drops in the crook of my neck and he pants profusely.
"Edward?"
He doesn't answer but the groan into my neck sends a shiver down my spine. I peek at his arm, his hand now tightly gripping the side of his hip. He starts taking deeper breaths, and then his hand gently returns to my side.
But I can feel it, the tension in his whole body. He is in pain.
"Hey," I say softly, running a hand over his arm while he resumes the kissing on my neck.
He doesn't stop kissing me. When his lips find mine, I can see the tight wince his eyes are in. A few words get muffled between kisses until he stops again. This time he hisses against my collarbone and my hands push against his shoulders.
"Please, stop." I beg, my voice breaking with unshed tears.
He lifts himself off me, kneeling between my legs, his left arm resting over the couch, while his right hand grips his hip tightly. He drops his head in defeat, over his arm.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his whole body sagging in pain.
I'm up on my knees too, in front of him, my hand brushing up and down his arm. "It's okay."
He groans into his arm, turning his body until he is sitting. Stretching his right leg and scooting forward, he starts massaging his thigh, while his other hand cover his eyes, hiding his face... from me.
"I swear I tried everything, Isabella." His tone is clipped, his voice controlled, as he continues the massages and tries to take deeper breaths. "I took it easy. So frustratingly easy! The whole week. And even during the game today… nine out of ten times I needed to sprint, I purposely didn't. I swear I didn't. And it was all for nothing!"
"Don't say that," I start, trying to peel his fingers from his face so I can look at him. "Tonight was perfect, Edward. It was. You were able to fly here, and be with me. Don't say it was for nothing."
Finally, his fingers comply, and he lets me move them from his face. His eyes land on mine and the pain is obvious in them. But it goes deeper than that, the frustration, the exhaustion, it's almost too much.
"I really didn't want to ruin tonight."
"You didn't. You haven't. Please…" I try desperately, cupping his face, inching my body closer, forcing him to look at me. "Why don't we just call it a night — and a great one at that. You'll lie down, get some rest. We have an exciting day coming tomorrow, and you will feel better then."
A thousand emotions flash in his eyes, and he can't seem to make his mind up about what to say. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, before taking a deep breath and sitting up straight.
"Okay," is what he decides to say, adding a small smile to his answer.
"Is there anything you need?" I get up from the couch, facing him.
He exhales through his nose, a little grin still stretching his lips. "I need a moment and a glass of water… not necessarily in that order."
My eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary, just admiring him, taking in the fact that he is here — in my apartment. He's here for me, with me, at whatever cost.
Were this night to end right here, I'd be completely satisfied.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~