Chapter 5

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait….." You pause and sit up to look at me. "Edward," you say my name slowly like I'm stupid, "do you think Joey belongs with Dawson?" You pronounce his name with such incredulous disgust and I'm honestly confused.

"Well, I mean, it's his creek, right? So…" It seems like a foregone conclusion to me.

You flop back on your bed in exasperation. "I'm worried about the future of our best friendship."

"You're worried about the future of our friendship based on me thinking that Dawson and Joey are…. soulmates or whatever versus Pacey and Joey?"

How are we here again? How are we in your bed with a tub of ice cream debating the relationship of characters in a bad teeny bopper soap opera again?

"Soulmates? That's different. I can work with soulmates. As long as you acknowledge that she belongs with Pacey."

I'm so confused. "But how can she belong with a dude that's not her soulmate?"

"Because Edward, a soulmate can be a friend, too." How you can be so condescending about this discussion is just beyond me. You do realize we're not talking about real life, right?

Maybe I'm wrong. I'm not much of a romantic guy. In fact, I'm not even sure I believe in the whole soulmate thing, but I'm pretty sure if I did, I would think that soulmates should end up together….you know, be all in love and stuff.

"If you say so…..I mean you're the love expert, right?" I tease.

You narrow your eyes at me. "That was a low blow."

You don't say anything for a bit and I start to think you might really be pissed at me….but, of course, before I can blink, you rebound.

"You know you should be nice to me. As the person who consistently fields the 'Is Edward gay?' questions from your friends and family. You want me on your side."

"What?!" I squeak. "Who?"

You look at me like you're surprised that I'm surprised by this. "You never have girlfriends. What do you expect people to think?"

"That I haven't found the one yet? That I'm having fun playing the field? That I'm selective? Jesus, I'm 25. I don't know," I rant. "Not that I'm gay. I mean I'm very masculine."

Your bark of laughter stops my rant. "Oh Edward."

Even though I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it, I stare at you waiting for you to continue.

"Edward," you began, taking both of my hands in yours. "You are many things, many wonderful things, but macho is just not one of them. I think Emmett may have the market cornered on that attribute in your family.

I drop your hands. "What are you talking about? I'm manly."

The skeptical, disbelieving look on your face is thoroughly irritating.

"What is your deal? I am. I love sports….except baseball because it's boring, beer, women, food, I'm tall, I have a hair on my chest-"

"Your best friend is a girl, you take longer to get ready to go out than I do, you're oddly opinionated about home décor-"

"Trump card," I announce. "I have a huge dick. Just ask your friend, Jessica. How's that-"

"OMG," you scream, pulling the comforter over your head. "I did not need to know that. I just didn't. Not ever."

After a moment or two, you pop your head out from under the covers and give this 'tell-me-it's-not-true' look. "Jessica?! Eewwwwwwwwww…."

I try to look back at you like it's no big deal…..that you're totally exaggerating. You're not. "Gimme a break. It was once and in college and I was drunk."

"None of those are good excuses. She is my friend and she's a nice girl, but Edward, how could you? She used to call blow jobs party favors. She was the campus bicycle. I'm pretty sure your entire fraternity house had a ride by the end of freshman year."

The wince I've been holding back comes through at what you're saying because, well, you're right.

"If it makes you feel better, I only got a party favor."

You're slightly mollified at my confession and I regain my footing. "And anyway, that was a zillion years ago. I only brought it up because you were attacking my manliness."

"For the record, a large, um, endowment and one blow job do not a straight man make."

I fall back on my pillow and throw an arm over my face. "Shut up. I drew a blank, okay?"

You don't respond but your taunting little 'hmph' is infuriating so I turn away from you onto my side, pouting. "Leave me alone. I'll just be over here thinking up ways to prove what a man I am." I pause for a minute pretending to ponder my options. "Obviously, my personal hygiene routine will have to take a hit and I'll have to shun my perfectly normal love of antiques in favor of bar signs and posters of naked chicks, but first things first, I gotta upgrade Jasper to bff status."

I don't have to see your face to know you're rolling your eyes.

"Gah, I was just kidding," you say as you hug me from behind, laying your chin on my shoulder. Ironically, my manhood, under fire as of late, starts to stiffen at the feeling of your boobs pressed against my back and then you kiss my cheek way too close to my ear making it worse.

"You're so strong and tough," you say in your best gushing girly voice. "What would I do without you here to open the pickle jar…reach the top shelf…eat my leftovers?"

Like that ever happens. "Psssssh…."

"Shush. I like my food. Sue me." You tap the side of my face to try to get me to look at you. When that doesn't work you poke my nose, pinch my nipples, and finally start to tickle me.

I attempt to stay stoic and unaffected, but I'm wiggling like crazy before long.

"Are you going to quit the pouting now? Huh? Huh? And stop joking about replacing me. You're my best friend, my man-panion. Jasper can't have you."

At that, I turn over and face you, completely traumatized. "You did not just refer to me as your 'man-panion'. Are you trying to completely emasculate me?"

"Of course not," you reply, putting your hands on my cheeks and squishing the horrified look away.

Your expression softens and you slide your arms around my neck and hug me. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I would never want to do that. You're more important to me than anyone else in the whole wide world."

I relish your mushiness because it so rarely happens and hug you back.

"Man-panion is just my new favorite word and I reallllyyyy wanted to use it in a sentence today. It wasn't meant as a hit against you."

You move back from our embrace to look up at me with a big teasing smile on your face.

"I'm not letting you off the hook that easy, Swan," I say as I pinch your side and then pop you on the ass. "And you know what? I can't think of a better opportunity to dispel all these ugly rumors about my manly prowess than this weekend when my new girlfriend, Bella, accompanies me to my grandad's 85th birthday party."

.

.

"It's his creek right?" –totally my husband's logic for why Joey should end up with *shutter* Dawson.