we know, it's been a while….
so… anyone up to learn the piano?
wtvoc: i dedicate this chapter to halojones, the mrs. roper to my chrissy snow. and as always to my lover jandco. she's the uhh… andy samberg to my jorma taccone. that is to say… she definitely makes me jizz in mah pants.
ps: i normally don't do this, but i feel like it would enhance yer enjoyment. the piano lesson song is debussy's arabesque no. 1, which I always enjoyed far more than clair de lune. anyway, i had it on repeat the entire time i wrote that part. you can youtube it.
Bella
"So, Miss Swan. Did you enjoy your first piano lesson?" Masen was practically bouncing out of his skin. He was rolling slightly on the balls of his feet, swaying back and forth. His thumbs were hooked under the straps of his backpack at his shoulders, and he had a smug grin on his face. I could practically hear the anticipatory satisfaction in his voice.
I sighed inwardly. Remembering Esme's dire warning about breaking Masen's heart, I plastered on a fake smile.
"Of course, Masen. Your brother is- dedicated."
He laughed then, the laughter of a not-quite-teenager. He was so obviously tickled at the prospect of his brother and favorite teacher in the same room at the same time.
"So why is it that I didn't see you at the apartment, Masen?" I asked as he scooped up my bag. We were walking out to my car, and I was silently thankful that Masen was such a gentleman.
"Oh, I live with Aunt Esme. Edward figured that since he has to work so much that it would be better for me, I guess. Plus, if he ever decides to finish school-" Masen chattered on about his brother, telling me about Edward's piano talent, about how he always used to take Masen out for ice cream when their parents were fighting, and about how when their mother died, he would make up the most ridiculous songs possible to try to cheer Masen up.
As he was happily compiling his list of his brother's good qualities, I added my own. "Hot hot hottie," "best smile in America," "a voice that makes me do my Kegels," "possible misogynist," "Stalin-esque piano dictator," and "condescending a-hole".
"Here you are, Miss Swan," he said, and I realized that we were already at my car. I thanked him, shaking my head as he beamed his big brother's crooked grin at me and trotted off to meet up with some of the other cool kids. That boy is going to look just like his brother- I can only hope he won't be as much of a jerk.
As I drove home, all I could think of was how terribly the lesson had gone. It wasn't even a full hour, but I wasn't about to complain. Even if I had paid, there's no way I could have stayed another thirty minutes. For one thing, I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. His voice was too mesmerizing and in my ear. By the time he had finished explaining the placement of my fingers, I would realize that I hadn't heard his words- only the way he sounded. The smooth, deep resonant tone of his voice- ugh. It was like when a low octave note on the piano is drawn out, ringing. You press down on the pedal to sustain it, and you keep your finger on the gleaming, white key, feeling the vibration through your arm, the faint buzz going up your leg, the two sensations meeting somewhere in the middle. I shivered a little thinking about it.
And then, just as my body would hesitate, not knowing the answer to his question about finger placement- he'd snap and snark- and I'd come crashing down, the foot pedal in my mind pushing back and cutting off the pleasant buzzing.
So rude.
I just couldn't figure him out. He was so sweet to Paige, the girl he had been teaching before me. I watched as he patiently, tenderly exposed her to the amazing potential that might one day exist inside of her. It was obvious the girl adored Edward and not the piano (ditto her mother). Hell, if I were a young girl, I'd probably keep up with my lessons if the teacher looked and acted like that, too.
But when his eyes turned to me and I gave him my best "bygones be bygones" smile of hope, I saw a veil cover the intensity of his jungle-green eyes and he gave me a seriously nasty smile, sweeping his hand aside as he let me in.
My only conclusion?
I was a lousy lay.
And there were only two ways to overcome that stigma- a second chance-
Not happening.
Or- kick ass at piano.
I've always been a sucker for the unlikely. So, ass kicking it was. I was set and determined to improve by the next lesson.
Too bad wedding stuff got in the way. Edward had texted before, saying Saturdays were better for him, so we agreed on a predetermined day rather than constantly texting to fit each other into our schedules. That would be just great- the day before the wedding. I could get nice and humiliated. Then I'd go take advantage of Ben's parent's paying for the open bar, get hammered, and prove my one-night-stand skills with some obscure cousin from the Weber family.
Or perhaps I should return to the Vanilla Bella wine spritzer days. Too much booze has gotten me into trouble of late.
I had fully intended on practicing before Saturday, but what with Angela's sudden bridezilla transformation, I found myself getting prodded into last-minute fittings, going over seating charts, trading thinly-veiled insults with Angela's cousin and sewing tiny silk rosebuds on flower girl baskets, and it was suddenly time for my second lesson. And I hadn't practiced once. And it was obvious.
I was sitting at the bench, my back ramrod-straight. That much I could do.
"Again." Edward wasn't even looking. He had his arms across his chest and he was leaning against the piano, his back to my left. He had his head cocked slightly, poised to hear my blatant errors.
"You need to arch your fingers more."
"You're not even looking," I mumbled, fumbling as I slipped over the keys. I was getting a cramp. We had been going over the same scale for twenty minutes. He wouldn't let me proceed until I "stopped making it sound a really bad horror movie that takes place in the woods" and more like "water flowing down a pebble-lined streambed", whatever the hell that sounded like. But I was growing numb to his insults. Excusing myself to use the restroom, I made my way to the downstairs bathroom. Just outside and in the hallway there was a beautiful black and white photo of a young boy- Masen, I think- sitting on a piano, dripping an enormous ice cream cone all over the shiny surface. I grinned and hoped that it was Edward's piano and that he had gotten really pissed about the stickiness.
"My father," he breathed into my ear, and I jumped about a mile. My hand flew to my chest and I turned, backing into the closed door of the bathroom. He casually palmed the wall above my head and leaned in. I hated how much his proximity was turning me on.
"Oh. You all look so similar," I breathed, cursing my bumbling. Why couldn't I act as calm and indifferent as he was?
Because I wasn't an ass, that's why. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort because he simply didn't look rattled.
My eyes narrowed as I decided right then and there to stop letting him get to me. Keeping my brow slightly furrowed, I smirked right back at him and stepped forward.
"Permission to continue to the bathroom, Mr. Cullen?" I said, making my voice purposefully low and husky. Yessss. His eyes widened and he stepped back in surprise. Ha. I've been watching middle school kids interact for years; bullies didn't take well to confrontation. I can't believe I hadn't thought of that before. Whipping around quickly so that his face got slapped by my long hair, I smoothly stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door in what I hoped was his face and leaned in on the sink, silently cheering myself on for winning that tiny victory.
Of course, I paid for that little stunt. When I returned, he was leaning in the dip of the piano with one arm balancing his body and the other behind his back.
"You still have a half hour, Miss Swan. And I think I have just the thing to keep you on task."
He pulled out an old-fashioned metronome, the kind that ticks away your doom.
Setting it to a brisk pace, he started snapping along with the beat, the sounds of his fingers clicking overpowering the soft, insistent ticking of the time keeper.
Suppressing a huge sigh, I strode to the bench, sat my ass down, and pounded out the same scale. Again. And again.
For the next twenty minutes.
The only words spoken were Edward's.
"Again."
And again.
I began to despise C Major.
After those twenty minutes, he unceremoniously shoved me over with his body as he joined me on the bench.
"I often like to show my students what they can aspire to, and I have no idea your plans for future piano playing. But I've been standing here, wondering at your tenacity. It's pretty impressive. I haven't met anyone as stubborn as you since… well." He looked a little uncomfortable, and I was unsure if it was because he had slightly insulted me or because he had slightly paid me a compliment.
"This is one of my favorites," he said, his lips barely moving as he stared at the empty piano stand, his brow slightly furrowed.
And then there it was.
I had heard Edward snap at me for my lack of enthusiasm.
I had heard him showing a little girl the real way to do a scale.
I had heard his dirty mouth and Jerry Lee Lewis style of piano playing.
But this…
I needed duct tape to keep my mouth shut.
Unbelievable.
I almost forgave him for an entire week's worth of fuckery for this.
This.
It was water running over a pebble-lined streambed. This is what he meant.
His back wasn't ramrod straight. He looked like he was home.
He didn't need sheet music. His sleeves were rolled up, and I was mesmerized by the interplay of his veins as his hands ran up and down the keyboard, occasionally brushing up against my arm with each press of the keys. His long fingers didn't strain as he played; they were extensions of the instrument beneath him. Singing to me. I glanced up at his face, and upon first inspection there was no emotion, but I realized that this was how he expressed emotion; the worry lines were gone. He was at peace. There was no sarcasm, no chastising. No asshole was apparent. The curling of his fingers, the way that even his hair flowed to the music was just beautiful. It was like I was seeing a completely different part of him. He was speaking to me through this song, the sweet run of notes holding me captive, relaxing every tense muscle I had been clenching the entire lesson. I was holding my breath, allowing that nonsensical and childlike feeling that everything would disappear if I made a sound to rule my actions.
The song started to speed up, and I let out my breath. Allowed it to flow with the music, alternating between quickened breathing and holding it all in. I realized he was doing the same, breathing with the speed of the music. For the first time, Edward and I were in sync.
And just like that, it ended. I didn't want to make eye contact with him for fear that I'd see sarcasm and snark again. But I kept my head up.
He paused momentarily after ending the beauty, then he folded his hands in his lap and reluctantly met my eyes. Whatever he saw there, he must not have expected because he held my gaze, a slight furrow marring his perfect face. We stared at each other for a few seconds and he was the first one to break the staring. I would never back down from him, ever again. Not only had he challenged my patience all day, but now he had shown me the man inside the toughened asshole exterior. I had just witnessed the real Edward Cullen, and I would see him again, dammit.
But not just yet. I could see he wouldn't do that again. Not for a while, anyway.
"That's what a real piano player sounds like," he said, turning away from me and lifting himself off the bench.
It's cool. You made a mistake, Edward. You allowed me to see behind the curtain. Now I know you're not just some hot dirtbag who gets off on torturing his former conquests. And I will show you up one day.
"Same time next week?" I asked, reaching behind me for my purse.
"Of course. Unless you'd like to grace us with your presence tonight?" He smirked at me. Wow. He didn't think I had the stones.
"Is that a request, or a challenge?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at his rudeness. Maybe I should go and see if James wanted to be my date for the wedding. I bet that would piss off Liberace here.
"Consider it an invitation," he said, walking over to the door and opening it for me. Ho ho. An invitation, you say? We'll see, Mr. Cullen.
Without responding, I sailed out of the door and on to my car. I had to go shave and have Alice find me something fantastic to wear.
Hours later, I was back at Singin' in the Rain, perched on a stool close to James' piano. I had opted for comfort over sex kitten, and I was sort of regretting it. Both Edward and James were in fine form tonight; there were several bridal parties again, and plenty of brides-to-be getting their asses smacked and their tits grabbed. I cringed, remembering that just a little while ago I was one of those girls.
"So, you couldn't stay away from me, could you?" a voice whispered over my shoulder. I turned and met the gleaming grey eyes of James, who had a drink in each hand. He offered me one and I shook my head, indicating my bottled water. No booze for me tonight. I'd save it for the wedding.
"Well, I was sort of challenged to show up tonight. That one," I said, pointing at Edward, who was currently dueling with Mike, "is giving me piano lessons. He seems to think my musical education is lacking and wants me to see what a real musician sounds like."
"Sounds like our Eddie boy," he laughed, putting his arm around my shoulder. I noticed that Edward was glaring in our direction, so I leaned into James, putting my head on his shoulder. Edward's eyes narrowed and he faltered slightly, missing a note. I grinned in delight. He turned away from us and focused his gaze on the bottle blonde currently gyrating her hips in his face.
"He told me about your lessons, Bella," James said, putting great significance on my name. I laughed awkwardly and turned to explain, but he beat me to it.
"Eddie told me all about it. I applaud you, taking one for the team like that. You must be a loyal friend," he said, getting soft and looking impressed. I nearly snorted at his insincere comment. He must be used to his lines working. I know I almost went home with him.
"You know, you really should practice. Show the guy up. He'd hate that," he said, gulping one drink and putting the other on the bar behind him. Suddenly, I had a fantastic idea. It was so awful that it just had to work.
"James. Would you be willing to- oh, never mind. I can't ask you that." I turned my face away and looked down at the ground, twirling a patternless drawing on my thigh with the tip of my finger. I can be charming, too. If only I could call my blushing at will. Guys were such suckers for a bashful girl.
"What is it? You can tell me." He was all concern.
"Could you- do you think you could- help me? Help me practice, I mean? I really want to show Edward up." Best idea, ever.
He grinned at me. "Bella, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I would love to help you practice- I'm great at hand placement." Oh, boy.
I reached behind me and grabbed a napkin. "Here," I said, scribbling down my number. "Let's do this sometime next week." I noticed Edward looking at us and grinned. I reached for another napkin and wrote out on it "Here, hotshot. Guns n Roses. Sweet Child o' Mine." I waltzed over to the stage and slapped the napkin down, issuing a challenge. Without looking at him, I walked back to my stool and settled in toward James' embrace again. Edward picked up the napkin and read it, giving that smirky, Kegel-inducing grin without looking at me. Mike finished up his song and Edward immediately launched into my request.
"This one's for a new student of mine who seems to think that I'm nothing but a hotshot piano player. Well, she's right. But I'm not only a hotshot, darling; I'm also a hottie. Never forget that." And he began to play amidst the whoops and feminine hollers floating around him.
If you think it would be hard to soften an eighties rock anthem into a piano piece, you'd be wrong. I felt like I was getting serenaded as Edward started to sing. He was looking right at me the entire time, his smooth voice and fingers caressing the music and I noticed for the first time ever how sweet the song was. I found myself captivated by him, again. Two times in one day. I'd better watch it lest I forget that this was the same guy who took me home and took advantage of my drunk ass.
When the song ended, I raised an eyebrow and gave him a golf clap. He bowed his head in my direction, saluting me with his glass and gulping it. James was looking from me and then to Edward, a question on his face.
"Are you guys…?" he asked. What a jerk. Like I'd tell him.
"Mortal enemies?" I supplied, sitting up and away from him. I could envision myself being the rope in a tug-of-war between these two, and I can't say it was an unpleasant feeling. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to be my date for tomorrow, but I wouldn't ruin Angela's wedding like that.
"Gotta go," I said, cutting off whatever witty retort James had for me. Without another glance at the stage, I grabbed my bag and water, in a sudden rush to get home.
I had a big day tomorrow.
I woke up bright and early; it was a beautiful day, and I was actually looking forward to the wedding. This weekend had been too confusing, and it would be good to dash head-first into an event that had no significance on my personal life except to see a good friend made happy by joining with her love. I wasn't normally this sappy and optimistic, but I was a little giddy as I took my shower and got ready.
Loading my dress and makeup into the car, I drove to the church with a smile. The wind in my hair, the sun in my eyes; a good day, indeed. I didn't even let the sight of Tanya's White Jetta in the parking lot bother me. Jessica and Lauren I could handle; but that cousin of hers was just annoying.
"Pretty girls hate other pretty girls, Bella," Alice was explaining to me. Tanya had not-so-quietly referred to "attention-seeking librarian types on pianos" as she spoke to Lauren, and the two had been staring at me the whole time. Jealous whores. I noticed you trying to pick up on Edward there, Tanya. I wonder what she would've said if I told her I had spent the night with him. I had to resist the urge to wander over there and drop heavy hints. I'm not a bitch. Well, not out loud, anyway.
"How does that explain you and Rose then, Alice?" I asked, struggling to tie the halter. Angela had asked for Alice's expertise in picking out bride's maid dresses, and of course, Alice had gone with the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Flowing and watered-down yellow, I actually felt graceful in the thing. Despite its being completely backless and the heels required for its length, I felt good.
I endured the extensive hair and makeup that I was put through for the next hour or so; I hadn't bothered with anything while getting ready, and I had to hear Alice "tsk" away at the state of my underdone eyebrows and extol the virtues of my eyelashes. I wasn't even listening to her; I was trying to focus on what the gossipy girls were saying in the corner as they got ready. Angela was floating around, nervous as hell and fidgety.
"He's meeting me here. I was going to go home with him last night, but he had to stay after work," Tanya was saying. Great. I can't wait to see what kind of guy she had brought as her date. I sort of wished I wasn't showing up stag, but I've never asked a guy out before, and I wasn't about to start. Although it would've been fun to bring James along. The guy was gorgeous, no doubt; and it would have been hilarious to watch their expressions when I strolled in with the other hot piano guy from the bar.
"Who'd you bring today, Bella?" Tanya asked, suddenly turning to me while slipping into her dress. Naturally, she showed me up in it with her long neck and thin waist. I will not let her get to me. I won't.
"Nobody," I replied loftily. "I like to keep my options open." She and Lauren seemed to find that funny, but I decided to shrug it off. Won't let her get to me. Nope.
"That's probably smart of you. I mean, not everyone can just go and find a date. I sure did luck out." She was applying lip gloss and pressed her lips together with a pop, eyeing me while looking into her compact. "I admire your ability to just show up to a big thing like this dateless. It sure takes spunk. I know I couldn't do it. Then again, I've never really had to worry about it." Not getting to me. At all.
"Yeah, Tanya. We all know you're not the type who can say 'no'. Come on, Ladies. Let's do this thing," Rosalie said, ignoring Tanya's glare. Sometimes I could just kiss Rose.
Before we knew it, we had Angela down the aisle, married, and outdoors in a spray of birdseed. The ceremony had been simple and beautiful, and I found myself daydreaming. Nothing concrete or tangible, just whether Bella would ever get her day in the sun. The meaningless daydreams that all little girls started to have when they came to the realization that they were going to be someone's Plus One one day. I couldn't help it; Ben's earnest face as he recited his vows and Angela's struggle to contain her tears were getting to me. I didn't cry, but only because Alice and I had made a pact to pinch each other when we thought the other was going to mar her mascara. We both got pinched a lot during the ceremony.
I had to shake the daydreams, and I think it was because in those vague, happy scenarios, my faceless guy's hair was a little too bronze, and his eyes were a little too green. Stupid subconscious. Where're the champagne cocktails?
We were standing in the receiving line, getting hugs from random family members and some people I hadn't seen since high school. Some guys were getting a little friendly, and I was wrestling away from an especially grabby former member of the Forks Water Polo Team when I had to suppress a groan.
You have got to be kidding me.
There he was, looking arrestingly handsome in a chocolate brown suit with a crisp, light blue shirt. Great tie. Carefully disheveled hair in place. Smirk at the ready. Sarcastic comment, coming right up.
"Bella," Edward said, coming forward. He stopped right in front of me, and it was the first time I had ever seen him look unsure of himself. He was about two inches away and I was sure he was going to do the weird one-arm hug that I had gotten from most other people I was acquainted with, but he stuck his hand out instead, grasping my clammy hand in his cool one. He looked so good that I lost the ability to speak for a second, which pissed me off. I narrowed my eyes as I looked up at him, totally annoyed that I had to look up so far, he was so tall. And there it was- that smirk- looking down as he raked me over.
"You look great," he said, his eyes looking fierce and wild. I just didn't get this guy.
"Who invited you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. He hadn't let go of my hand, which was getting clammier while his hand was getting warmer. He was still shaking it up and down, and he had to move forward a little bit as the next person in line impatiently skipped over me to Rosalie; he put his other hand out to steady my shoulder so that I didn't fall, and I suppressed the gasp that was bubbling in my mouth when his body brushed up against my mine.
"Sorry," he murmured, dropping the smirk and stepping back. He let go of my hand, and the cold feeling where we had been touching made me shiver. I rubbed my bare arms as he went on in the receiving line, giving my best fake smile for the next person.
Who invited him? Angela? God, I hoped not. I'd hate to be pissed at the bride before I had to give my speech. But I sincerely doubted she'd invite the guy who-
Tanya.
Of course. She was the last of the bridal party in the receiving line, and she grabbed him by the arm and sauntered off before all of the guests had finished walking the line, glancing over her shoulder and giving me a nasty little smile.
So not only would I have to sit with her at the bridal table up on the raised platform, but I'd have to endure my piano torturer as well. I greeted the next dirty old man uncle in line, allowed him to cop a feelski, and then I cheered myself with the thought that if Tanya did something seriously rude, I could let her know how soft Edward's sheets were.
Boy, he was having a bad effect on my ability to remain a nice person.
And I didn't even care. I would have to keep my wits about me all evening. And a champagne flute constantly filled.
When did I turn into such a drunken, bitter old woman?
The other bridesmaids and I filtered into the hall that was beautifully decorated. I'd like to say that as Maid of Honor I had a hand in the wedding planning, but that'd be a lie. Alice was consulted, and probably would have been seriously put out if she hadn't been the first on a short list of people Angela trusted to do this thing right. She had tried to insist on a seriously out-of-range budget that she offered to pay for, but to her credit, she relented when Angela insisted that she wanted a modest wedding. I had never seen anyone stand up to Alice like that, but it's one of the many reasons that I loved Angela. She always stood up for what she thought was right.
"Care to dance?" I heard a voice whisper in my ear. It was Weber Cousin Number 2. Danny or Donnie or some other New Kid. He was cute in that watered-down white boy kind of way, and I gave him a weak smile.
"The DJ hasn't even set up yet," I said. He was such a youngster. I never wanted to float dangerously close to that whole teacher/student relationship. Not that he was in middle school, but I'm sure he had at least graduated high school. Right?
"Save me one then, Miss- Bella." He was trying too hard to be suave, and it didn't escape my notice that he had almost called me Miss Swan. Good lord, I hoped he wasn't some former student of mine. I had only been teaching for a few years, but I supposed it was a possibility…
Shaking off that creepy Mary Kay Letourneau feeling, I smiled and rushed off to the table. I was seated next to Angela, with Rosalie on my right and Alice next to her. Jessica, Lauren, and Tanya sat to the end of the table, and the groomsmen were on my right. I only knew Tyler, the best man, and Eric. The others were cousins or some such relation.
I noticed Edward take a seat at a table not too far from the end of our long platform, somewhat within the vicinity of Tanya but not close enough for her to stake a claim on him. She looked a little piqued at this, and I silently high-fived Edward for pissing her off unintentionally. He seemed to be avoiding the tables with all girls and had seated himself with a bunch of kids. Maybe the guy can only communicate with those on his maturity level? Stop being mean, Bella.
I took a gulp of my champagne, loving the burn and feeling the fire of Edward's eyes on me. He looked pissed, for some reason, and I stared back, silently antagonizing him. A warm hand touched my bare shoulder and I smiled up at Tyler- a nice, big, fake smile- because the guy bugged the piss out of me. He had tried unsuccessfully to get me to go to every single dance our high school had to offer, and he never took "no" for an answer. I had to invent several sick relatives, lots of homework assignments and several unavoidable chores in order to get out of going to dances with him, and he never got it. I sincerely hoped-
"So, Bella. You're going to save a dance for me this time, aren't you?" he said, smiling lopsidedly and trying to look enticing. He had gotten more handsome with the years, filling out in the face and adding an inch or two. Tyler wasn't a bad guy, he was just… too persistent. I mean, give a girl some breathing room. Be mysterious. Wearing your heart on your sleeve wasn't necessarily the best form of Spanish Fly around.
"Um. Okay?" I thought the hesitation in my voice was blatant, but he was blissfully unaware. Resigning myself to an evening of lame partners, burning glares from Tanya & Co., and a possible confrontation from a drunken Bella, I gulped the rest of my champagne and decided that for Angela's sake, I'd keep a plaster smiled on my face.
For the next half hour while we waited for the new Mr. and Mrs. Cheney to be announced, I endured just about every male in the room (except Edward) come up to me. I needed a dance card, I got so many "save a dance for me"s.
"Do I have a sign on my head reading 'pity this spinster'?" I asked Alice, who had just been joined by Jasper and Emmett. They all laughed and my brow wrinkled.
"Sure, great. Mock the afflicted. What gives?"
"Bella… have you seen you?" Emmett asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.
"Shut up, Emmett. I'm serious." I was grumpy now. He loved to antagonize me, and I was already cranky to begin with.
"Bella," Jasper said, bringing his hands out. He had grey snakeskin cowboy boots on under that suit he was wearing, and he was the only guy west of the Mississippi that could pull it off. I put my hands out, grasping his fingers as he brought me to my feet. He turned us around so that we were facing the mirrored wall behind us.
"Lovely, clueless Isabella," he said, putting an arm around me.
"What? Jasper, I'm dumb. Spell it out for me," I mumbled, putting my hands on my hips in petulance.
Jasper grabbed my elbows and gently lowered one arm while lifting the other above my head, spinning me around like a father does to his ballerina daughter. He stopped me when I was facing the room again and used his thumb to tilt my chin so that I was looking over my shoulder.
"You, ma'am, have the milkiest, smoothest skin I've ever had the pleasure to look at. M'girl here has beautiful, alabaster cream. But you, darlin', look like fine china." I watched as my fine china turned a faint shade of pink; Jasper wasn't big with the compliments, but whenever he doled them out, they were extravagant and wonderful.
"Yeah, Bells. You're a frickin' hottie," Emmett said, somewhat less eloquently, but just as sweet. I could feel my face prickling with blush and I would've buried it in Jasper's tan-colored suit if Alice hadn't saved me in time, chastising me for almost ruining my make-up.
"Ever the bashful girl," Rosalie tsked, putting her arm around me and rubbing up and down my arms. I stole a glance at myself in the mirror, and sure. I certainly looked different. I don't know about hottie, but the dress sure made my back look great.
Just then, the obnoxious DJ stopped playing "Shout!" to announce the arrival of Ben and Angela. We all turned and clapped, Emmett whooping and Rosalie piercing through the shouting with a whistle that she didn't even need fingers for. The happy couple joined us up on the platform and then dinner was served, people tapping their glasses every five seconds to make the two kiss. Any typical wedding.
The speeches by me and Tyler were made, and I had to keep mine short lest I make a fool of myself. I made sure not to mumble my little tale of knowing Angela for years, of knowing that the two of them were made for each other. Tyler's speech contained several poorly worded, innuendo-laden jokes, and the crowd dutifully laughed, giving us both hearty applause as we toasted the happy couple.
A half-hour later, I had to keep resisting the urge to rest my chin on my upturned palm; I smiled appropriately when spoken to, I kept up a conversation with everyone since I was seated right next to the bride. I laughed at Emmett's bawdy humor, ignored the pointed comments of the girls at the end of our table, allowed Alice to tug at my dress every now and then, and refused the advances of any guy who came to the table. I kept trying to put off a peeved vibe, but that seemed to intrigue them, I guess.
Finally excusing myself to use the restroom, I stumbled across the dance floor and out the side, not-so-nimbly skirting the people shaking their asses on the laid out tiles of wood. I didn't need the bathroom, and I glanced around, not having taken in much of the hotel layout upon arrival. Noticing a bar outside of our ballroom, I made my way over and plopped down on a stool. The guy behind the counter was looking very bartender-ish, swiping at a glass with a rag and looking prepared to listen to my problems.
"Drink, Beautiful? I thought they had open bar in there," he said, chucking his chin at the opened doorway that had the noise of revelry pouring from it.
"Yeah, I just… needed a breather," I finished lamely, reaching down to loosen one of my heels. I let it drop to the floor beneath me and sighed at the relief, so I took the other one off, too.
"So, you in the bridal party?" I noticed "the look", the one that indicated he would be asking me out. Seriously, I should wear backless clothing more often.
"Yep." I didn't want this attention. I wanted to sulk and be a baby. And I was starting to get annoyed by my own attitude.
"Won't your boyfriend be missing you?" he asked casually, and I nearly rolled my eyes. I need to remember that this dress is magical, if there's ever a day where I want his much male attention again.
"He will," rumbled Edward from behind me, and I felt the warmth of his hand at the bare part of my waist. I hadn't had enough champagne to make me like the touch, but I certainly didn't hate it.
"Come on, darling. Let's get you back inside," he breathed into my ear, but loudly enough for the bartender to hear it. I tilted my head back so that I could meet his eyes, and there they were. Frisky jungle green, sizing me up and silently begging to just let me be saved by him. I was a little irritated that I wanted the save, too.
I stared at him for a half a second and then leaned forward, my lips almost brushing his ear lobe.
"Sure thing, babe. Whatever the hotshot wants," I breathed right back. I saw the curve of his smirk as I hovered by his ear, not really wanting to see the taunting look on his face. Whatever he was, he sure liked making a fool out of me. But at least he wasn't hitting on me, and for that I was grateful. It was why I let him "rescue" me.
He held my arm as I hopped off the barstool and I was amused at how tall he was when I stood there without shoes on; I barely made it to his chest and I lost my balance trying to slip back into my Louboutins, bumping my nose on his tie. I could feel the rumble in his chest as he laughed softly, and I paused, letting the warmth of his hands on my arms get to me. I had to look up at his face and I scowled at the amusement I saw there, so I remembered that. Remembered to look at him whenever I felt myself slip; I could easily see that if I didn't watch it, I'd feel myself being attracted to him. But that high-and-mighty expression he wore like a badge of honor would bring me down to earth every time, I could tell.
I gained another three inches as I got into my shoes, and he put his hand low on my bare back, leading me to the ballroom where the noise was reaching the stratosphere.
The wedding guests were doing the YMCA, and I was amused to see my nearest and dearest out there, partying hearty as the song ended. I noticed Tanya at the table, scanning the room, probably looking for her date. I suppressed a huge grin when she noticed the two of us, Edward's hand still on my back and his other hand holding my elbow. Her eyes narrowed and she looked furious. Heh heh. Oh well, might as well rub it in. The beginning notes of "Wonderful Tonight", a wedding staple, started to play.
"Wanna dance?" I asked, looking up at him. He looked confused, but then an absolutely, deliciously evil grin lit up his face when he followed my previous gaze to his date and back to me.
"Sure," he shrugged, smirking his smirk and leading me out to the floor. Alice saw the two of us and goggled, elbowing Jasper without taking her gaze away from us. Jasper half-smiled and drawled something into her ear; he then reached out and backhanded Emmett, who turned and mouthed "what the fuck", but stopped when he noticed, too. He pulled Rosalie's face toward us, and I felt like I was on display as Edward gracefully swiveled me from the hand at my elbow and spun me around, pulling me into his arms like he'd been doing it all his life.
He pulled me closer and was humming along with the lyrics. We probably looked the picture of ease, just two people moving to the sexy twang of Eric Clapton and his guitar, but my inner turmoil and annoyance was starting to seep out of my pores. I was feeling petulant and irritated, and I did not want to be swayed by the music and the fact that I was at a wedding, dancing with someone I was annoyingly attracted to.
"What's with the face?" he asked, leaning away to gauge my response. I scowled and made a sound of disgust and he laughed at that; a full-throated, throwing-his-head-back laugh of delight. Which of course only made me more annoyed.
"You… you… mmph." I had no words. I didn't often have no words. Madder.
"Bella… why are you so angry?" he asked, the ghost of amusement still marring his now serious face.
"Stop trying to make me laugh. I am determined to be annoyed," I said, trying to sound haughty but sounding more like a petulant child. He was an excellent dancer; I didn't falter once in my scary heels. We were sort of removed from the others- not on the fringes, because he had led me straight to the center of the dance floor. No, more like everyone else had the good sense to stay away. There was almost a circle around us, people shooting various looks of amusement and several guys shooting Edward daggers that he had managed to get me out on the dance floor. Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper continued to look amazed. I decided to ignore everyone and focus my anger on my wayward piano teacher.
"And why does the Maid of Honor feel the need to be annoyed?" he asked, spinning and dipping me slightly. As he slowly brought me back up, he made it so that he was completely pressed up against me, and I hated that I liked it. I found myself wishing I could remember what our other "dance" had been like before I could stop the thought from forming.
"I hate weddings," I said simply. It was true. I was an errant female; I just hated them. He loved that, though.
"You hate weddings? Isn't this, like, the female raison d'etre?" he asked with a smile. He was teasing me now.
"Don't be such a judgmental prick."
"Don't be so hasty to judge."
"Why do you enjoy antagonizing me?"
"Well, you do make it easy."
"Easy to torture? Wow, Mr. Cullen. You really are a sadistic bastard."
He loved that. "True. Actually, I was starting to think I was acting an awful lot like Edward Cullen, the thirteen-year-old."
"Hmm. Are you going to snap my bra?"
"Maybe if you were wearing one." He brought his hand up and sort of brushed his fingertips across my back where my bra would be. I decided to ignore that.
"I'm sure you'll have another opportunity," I said, trying to inject a note of dry amusement in it, but I failed miserably. My voice did that low, husky, scratchy thing it does when I'm feeling exposed.
The song was ending and he was slowly leading me toward the DJ. Never dropping his hand from my back, he leaned over and beckoned to the guy, who leaned forward. They exchanged some words I didn't hear and the DJ guy grinned over at me, nodding enthusiastically.
I raised my eyebrow but said nothing. I almost hoped the song would be something embarrassing that I could mock him for later.
But maybe he was mocking me.
"More Guns n Roses?" I asked, wondering if he was taunting me for my taste for eighties hard rock. The beginning chords and whistling of "Patience" was drifting out of the speakers, and Rosalie and Alice were standing there, shaking their heads at me like it was my idea. I turned to accuse Edward of… something. Anything. But he was all fire in his eyes, his jaw clenched as he continued to twirl me around the dance floor.
"You put me in the mood for it," he murmured. We simply stared at each other, me sort of listening to the lyrics and reading them on his face, he… well, I don't know. I still had no idea what was going on in that head of his. But for the first time… I found myself hoping it was about me, and that it wasn't negative.
happy new year!
we're glad you're enjoying the story. we still talk to bella-of-the-ball, and we're glad she's with us on this! thanks for the love, BB!