The Inspiration
Chapter 8: Making Plans
Bella
Jasper wasn't home when I got there and I was actually thankful for that. I needed time to sort through everything that was going on in my head.
And believe me, it was pretty damn chaotic in there.
I plopped by bag on the couch in the living room, not even bothering to take my notebook out like I normally did when I got home from the museum. More than likely I would not be doing any transcribing tonight anyways.
My coat landed in a heap of fabric as soon as I was inside my bedroom, my shoes making a satisfactory thud as I slipped each one off my feet.
I could hear the faint hum of the city sounds outside my window, the wail of a police siren in the distance.
Flopping back onto my overly large bed for only me, my arms fanned out at my sides and I'm sure I looked like some supine fallen angel in that moment.
My memory traitorously flashed me images of the very … detailed and graphic sex dream I'd had the night before of Stalker Boy, I mean Edward. I was pretty much in the same position as in my dream, but the difference was that Edward had been on top of me, the hard lines of his body pressed against my softer ones.
I'd had a handful of sex dreams before in my life so I wasn't completely unfamiliar with the, but there was just something about this one that I particularly enjoyed and relished.
And I'm pretty sure I might have actually came in my sleep if it wasn't for the loud bang Jasper made right outside my bedroom near that point in my dream. Of course I gave him a withering glare when I finally crawled out from under the covers (after my heart and body managed to cool the hell off) in search of some strong form of caffeine I could possibly lace with alcohol. I may be a good girl most of the time, but I'm not above adding a kick to my morning wake me up if necessary.
The more I laid there in bed though the more I thought about Edward. Thoughts of him had been plaguing me all day. Okay, that was probably the wrong word to use. Hmmm … perhaps 'occupying' is a better word. Granted that was probably because I had been with him all day, but it was beyond simple interaction thoughts.
The truth was that I enjoyed being around him. I had begun to warm to his constant presence during his time as Stalker Boy, but now that I knew his actual name and had talked to him I felt even more comfortable around him.
He certainly wasn't like any other guy I had been around. Jasper was more like my brother from another mother and filled that specific role spectacularly. There were just some things though that he couldn't do for me. Sure he could hold me while I cried, an intimate act in the first place, but the most intimate act was … unthinkable with him. Really, did you have sexual thoughts about your brother? Well maybe if "Flowers in the Attic" is your favorite book and an accurate description of your life, but the overwhelming answer should be a big "hell no!"
Sure I got by with what I needed thanks to a near silent piece of vibrating plastic I procured thanks to a beyond embarrassing toy party I had been invited to as a bachlorette party for a college friend. I was all for good sex like the next girl, but even I had to shield my eyes when the woman started waving dildos around like a sword and talking about pirate porn and using a strap-on on your guy. I won't begrudge anybody their fetish, but ewwwwwwwwwwww … so not my thing.
Luckily I managed to escape with a fairly plain vibrator and a sample pack of flavored massage oil. Pretty innocuous in the grand scheme of things.
I leaned over and slid the bedside table's drawer open, rooting around to see what I had left. At the bottom next to an embarrassingly old, dog-eared romance novel I stole from my mother when I was twelve was the plastic tube with the oil packets. Four of the original eight were left and secretly I hoped that those four would be used on Stalker boy in some way, shape or form.
I just had to wrangle him into bed without looking, sounding or otherwise coming off as a horny slut. Though to be perfectly honest, something told me that getting Edward in bed wouldn't exactly be a difficult task for me. I think the fact his eyes were glued to my tits less than 60 hours ago probably indicated that.
He was constantly looking at me very predatorily, almost like I was something he wanted to eat, to devour, to consume.
The thought sent shivers through my body and not altogether unpleasant ones at that.
I felt like I could talk with him, really talk not make awkward, time-filling, inane chatter about the weather or current events.
Sure, we'd made a bit of it outside the museum, what … damn … minutes ago I guess. By now it felt like hours.
I brushed my fingers across my lips, still feeling the feather-light kiss he'd given me before bounding off backwards into the throng of people on the street. The kiss that had been so unexpected, yet so real and in the moment at the same time. I'd caught something flash across his face, something I'm not sure he intended to let me see.
If I was being perfectly honest with myself, something I liked to think I usually was, it kicked me in the gut to walk away from him. To go the opposite direction from which he was headed knowing full well I wanted to be walking with him instead.
It was a strange sensation, wanting to follow after him just to spend more time with him and one I was not used to having.
I made my life writing about other people's lives, their emotions, their intimate actions. At a whim, I could peel back motivations and facades, seeing the truth behind everything. I created characters and knew everything about them.
And here I was unable to figure out the mystery of my own feelings.
It was an interesting paradox to say the least.
One so confusing I actually sighed audibly into the relative silence of my bedroom before I could stop the discontented noise from leaving my lips.
I heard the apartment door creak open and then shut from out in the main room.
"Jay, that you?" I shouted from my horizontal position on the bed, not wanting to move unless I really had too.
"No, Bee. Just a random burglar here to pillage and sack the apartment like usual," came Jasper's lighthearted reply.
I laughed a bit at his humor and brushed a clump of hair out of my vision.
"Well, good that you're announcing your intentions at least. You wanna come in here and plunder the riches of my bedroom first?" I shouted back to him.
Jasper's languid footsteps sounded down the hallway and his head popped around the doorframe, his body following behind him.
"Awww, Baby Bee. What's got your hive all aflutter today? Last time I saw you laying in bed like this was senior year of college from what was his name …" he said and tapped on his chin softly in thought.
"Tommy Johnson," we said at the same time.
"Scumbag. Fucker cheated on you with that Zeta sorority girl with the bad boob job," Jasper scowled.
I winced at the memory.
"Don't remind me," I grimaced out.
"So why so glum now?" he asked, quickly diverting my attention.
I patted the bed beside me and Jasper kicked his shoes off before climbing on the bed, mirroring my position next to me.
We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, and I knew Jay was letting me collect my thoughts before I inevitably spilled my guts. Such was our way and it had happened many times before.
"I don't know that I'm necessarily glum. Maybe … confused more so? So the question I guess you should be asking is, why so confused?" I said finally with a sigh.
Jasper chuckled a moment and said, "Bingo, babe."
I rolled over on my side and propped my head up with my bent arm.
"I kind of met this guy at the museum," I stated calmly.
Jasper's eyes started back at me knowingly, the light azul blue one of my favorite colors in the whole world. They made him look like he was an old soul, too old for a time that was passing him by almost.
"And …" he said softly, letting me go at my own pace.
I flopped on my back again with a dramatic sigh, this time curling myself around Jasper's warm body. I felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his lungs against my chest and it seemed to calm me a bit.
"I think I like him, Jay," I whispered quietly.
We both let the words hang there in the air, casting a spell over everything either of us would say after.
"Well …" Jasper finally said.
My eyes flickered up to his and I saw them kind of misty.
"Yeah?" I said softly.
"He hurts you and I'll personally rip his nuts off and feed them to him slice by slice with a rusty Swiss Army knife," he replied.
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.
It was such a typical Jasper response to anything involving a romantic interest of mine. If there was one thing I could count Jasper on being it was fiercely protective of me even though I was older by two months, four days and sixteen hours.
His arm curled protectively around me and I could have sworn I even heard him growl a bit as my shaking laughter subsided and I wiped the few tears that had escaped thanks to said laughter.
I punched him lightly in the chest and said, "Well, Mama Bear, I would expect no less from you so you better deliver if that happens."
Jasper rolled his eyes at me and sat up, leaning back on his arms still slightly.
"So what's the plan of action? You have a war strategy yet?" he asked with a slight smile.
I shook my head against his chest and inhaled that smell of Jasper that was one part woodsy, one part spicy.
"I'm assuming you're talking to him, know his name and all that stuff, right? Not just some far away crush that's the Bella Swan special," he chuckled.
I swatted at him again and rolled my eyes.
"Yes, Jay. And I did that once in high school. I was young, stupid and so damn shy I thought I would explode from blushing if I got within fifteen foot of that guy," I answered.
"Well, you've grown out of most of the stupid and some of the young, but I'm not so sure about the whole shy thing," Jasper said.
"Did I mention how I lured him to my boobs and caught him red-handed?" I asked him and rolled over on my stomach, propping my chin on my hand.
"Isabella Marie! You skank! I'm so proud of you! Growing up and flying Mama Jay's coop," Jasper grinned and wiped at an imaginary tear on his cheek.
I giggled and rolled my eyes again.
"God, the next thing we're going to be doing here is braiding each other's hair or something. When did you turn into such a girl, Jasper? Am I going to need to learn how to do a tuck on you or something? Cause I'm sorry, but I ain't touching little Jasper any time soon unless you're either dead or in mortal danger."
Jasper's eyes got wide as saucers and he covered his package in horror, his mouth hanging open in a mask of terror.
"Oh god no. This bad boy is not getting shoved backwards at all. He belongs front and proud. And besides I only braided your hair that one time. When you broke your elbow in fifth grade and you had to beg me for a damn week before I even agreed to it," he finally said.
"I remember that. If I also remember correctly you enjoyed your little stint as my hairdresser a little too much for a straight man," I giggled.
"Hold your tongue, you evil liar! I enjoyed no such thing! You just have really nice hair for a girl, that's all," Jasper said and fingered some of the hair falling down in front of my face.
"Whatever. Potato, potahto," I said and rolled my eyes at him for the last time I promised.
We were both silent then, my thoughts lingering back to Edward while I had no clue what Jasper was thinking about.
"You're going back tomorrow," Jasper finally said, breaking the quiet atmosphere of the room.
"Yeah," I answered quickly. It was second nature for me now. Wake up, shower, museum, and now I guess that routine included Edward.
Jay hauled himself up from my bed and grabbed his shoes. "Well, I'd love to sit around and talk about your boy, your bra size, zits and all those girl things, but I'm already at my estrogen quotient for the day and I have some journal articles I need to review for tomorrow. You want dinner in forty maybe?"
I nodded and Jasper smiled softly at me, his dimples showing on the side of his mouth.
"I know you're over-thinking this guy thing. Just go with it. Not everything has to make sense, Bee. Sometimes it just feels right," he said then and the corners of his eyes turned up as he spoke. He pushed his blond hair back with his free hand and turned, walking out of my bedroom.
My elbows slid out from under me and I lay on my stomach on my bed, my head turned to the side.
Maybe Jasper had it right. Maybe I was over-thinking this whole Edward thing. I wasn't looking for a permanent thing. It didn't have to be long term. Maybe it could just be a fun thing. We obviously got along pretty well and I felt comfortable around him. I looked forward to seeing him when I woke up and for the past few nights he'd been the last thing I'd thought about as I fell asleep.
Sometimes it just feels right, Jasper's voice echoed in my head.
I opened my eyes and saw all the Post-Its I'd stuck to my wall over my desk, the basic outline of my new story.
I liked things that way. I liked logic and order. I liked a beginning, a middle and an end. I liked knowing what was going on in my life at all times.
My heart thudded erratically in my chest, making me think that it didn't necessarily agree with me. My heart was trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening.
Maybe I should listen a little more closely.
XXXXX
I woke up the next morning with a stronger sense of anticipation to see Edward at the museum than all the days previous. I'd stayed up late the previous night, just mulling over everything.
My book, my feelings, Edward, Jasper, pretty much everything.
Love stories weren't my forte. I'd read them plenty of times, but I had never been good with writing them. The romance always felt forced, like it was never supposed to be in the first place.
And with my luck, they'd all end up like some twisted Romeo and Juliet tale, only it wouldn't be quite as romantic or self-sacrificing. It would just be painful.
Romance wasn't my thing.
I decided on jeans and a long sleeve v-neck t-shirt when I got out of the shower, pulling them on and noting that today Edward was probably going to have eyes for only my boobs today again. Not that I really had a problem with it, mind you.
Hell, I'll admit to checking out his package a time or twenty when he had to adjust himself. Yeah, I noticed him. He may have thought he was being all sneaky and inconspicuous with his hard-on, but I saw that thing and I'll be damned if my stomach didn't do a back flip.
It certainly wasn't helping the "must not look like easy slut" plan I was currently rocking.
The thing was I wasn't sure if what we were doing every day could be considered actual dates. If they were, then I was plenty into the acceptable date range for some sex. I had a general three to four date minimum. Okay, so I guess we'd been talking two-ish days, but the whole semi stalking thing accounted for at least a day or two of talking. So if I was equating talking to dating then I could perfectly well sleep with him and be okay with my rules.
At least that's how I justified it to myself.
It was cold outside when I finally left my apartment, a chilly fall rain coming down. It reminded me a bit of being back in Forks except with grey concrete as far as the eye could see instead of lush green forests.
Thankfully I had long since planned for the unpredictable Midwestern weather and pulled out my miniature umbrella I kept in my bag at all times.
The brown leather boots I'd pulled on sloshed through the puddles, and I even went out of my way a few times just to step in them. It was something I always did as a kid and every now and then got in the mood for it.
I was actually feeling rather lighthearted at the prospect of seeing Edward again after his gentle kiss yesterday, though part of me was hoping I'd get another one, perhaps a little more … intense this time. All that gentle stuff was well and good, but sometimes I like a guy who is a little more confident in his skills and knows what he wants and how to get it.
I had a feeling that Edward was one of those guys and I really wanted to find out.
When I got to the museum, Edward was waiting for me right inside the front doors, his hair dotted with rain droplets.
"No umbrella?" I asked and grinned at him.
"Sadly no," he replied with a smile that might have actually made my heart stop for a second.
We showed our passes to the older woman at the front counter and Edward asked her where she'd been the previous day. His eyes lit up when she answered that it was her granddaughter's fifth birthday. Of course this led to the woman pulling out a stack of pictures to show us and Edward and I ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the pictures at appropriate intervals, though I didn't have to force it much because the child was absolutely adorable.
I caught Edward looking at me a few times while Beatrice was showing us the pictures, a strange look in his eye. His gaze flickered away as soon as I met it with my own though.
The museum was almost deserted today, only a few visitors and the standard guards and employees mulling around.
Jerry gave us a smile when we walked toward the small gallery in the back corner, our home away from home now as it was.
The air was still and even a bit stuffy inside the gallery and I pulled off my jacket to make myself more comfortable.
Right on cue Edward's eyes zeroed in on my boobs and I even think he groaned a little bit.
"Aha! Caught you!" I said quickly and pointed my finger at him. "You're staring at my boobs again!"
His cheeks flushed an embarrassed pink and his eyes shot up towards mine, seeking redemption for his error.
"I swear I'm sorry, but I can't help it. They're like magnetic or something. You probably even picked that shirt knowing I'd stare. Come on. I'm a guy. I like boobs, what do you expect?" he asked and shrugged his shoulders.
It was my turn to blush a little from Edward inadvertently catching onto my not too subtle plan.
"Well can you at least divide your attention between my eyes and my boobs today?" I finally said when the heat across my cheeks began to fade.
He chuckled, a low throaty sound that was way too sexy for his own good. It was actually doing evil things to my girly bits, making me want to throw him down and have my way with him right there.
"I think I can do that. Besides, I really like your eyes. They're a really nice color. I'm sure most people describe then as cow brown or chocolate or some horrible clichéd color like that, but I bet I could do better. Here, let me look," he said and leaned his head towards mine.
His gaze was electric, captivating me and not making me want to even blink much less look away. Edward may have thought I had nice eyes, but his weren't so bad either. They were greenish, the color of new money, but with a slight golden shade to them. Like he had flecks or something.
He leaned in closer and I swear I felt his hot breath wafting across my face. Our noses were practically touching and the warmth of his eyes was almost overwhelming.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hey," I echoed him, my voice not sounding terribly steady.
"Definitely something better than chocolate," Edward whispered and smiled a half, crooked smile at me.
I don't know what compelled me to act just then, but I couldn't stop myself from moving forward and pressing my lips to his. They were warm and soft against mine. His eyes showed his shock for just a moment before my own eyes slid shut, thereby denying me visual confirmation of his reaction.
But I didn't need the visual to know he approved of my action.
I could feel his mouth form a smile for a moment before his lips responded to me. It seemed like he was holding back a little though and I took control, moving my lips against his in a sensual way. His tongue crept across my bottom lip and I parted mine slightly, showing him that if he wanted in I wouldn't stop him.
Edward hesitated for the briefest second before his tongue, warm and soft, slowly entered my mouth. He tasted like sweet mint and bitter coffee.
He scooted his body closer to me on the small couch, obviously forgetting where we were. Just as his arms started to move like he was going to put them around me, someone behind us cleared her throat and we broke away from each other.
My lips tingled and my face burned from the embarrassment of being caught practically sucking Edward's face in public. Even though I didn't really want to come face to face with our surprise guest, I cautioned a glance and saw an older woman, perhaps in her seventies, standing there with a scowl on her face. Obviously she didn't approve of our public display of … whatever that was.
"Sorry," I murmured and turned around before she could scowl harder.
Edward laughed very softly beside me and bumped his shoulder into mine. He bent his head sideways, and I leaned into him thinking he wanted to tell me something.
"I'm not sorry, though I am sorry we got interrupted by Senora Groucherson over there," he whispered. My cheeks flushed anew at his comment and I brought my hand up to my mouth to cover the giggle I made.
"Me too," I whispered back conspiratorially to him.
I didn't miss the smirk on his face.
This was the kind of stuff that I realized I liked about Edward. We could go from those moments where I accused him of blatantly staring at my boobs to moments of heavy sexual tension and the eventual release of it somehow right back into funny jokes about innocent bystanders who just happened to catch him macking on me.
The hours passed with not as much excitement, though I could tell he was definitely acting different after our tongues had met.
For some reason I ended up telling him about my childhood fishing trips with my dad Charlie. He laughed when I explained the time I let the little worms go because I didn't want my dad to spear them with his fishing hook.
He told me about a dog he'd had when he was four that liked to eat its own turds and I was horrified at that story, my stomach turning at the mere thought of it. But even I couldn't help the laughter when he said his mother knew nothing of the dog's eating habits and loved to let the dog lick her face.
We took turns telling funny stories and it felt so good to be able to talk to someone who didn't know all of them. I'd grown up with Jasper and most of my stories he could tell better than me.
Around lunch time we went down to the lower level and got lunch. Edward got this turkey sandwich on whole grain bread with havarti cheese and more lettuce and tomatoes than I'd ever seen on a sandwich. I couldn't resist the huge cheeseburgers and fries combo and Edward's eyes practically bugged out of his head as I shoveled the massive wedge fries into my mouth. I suspect it was probably because most girls he knew didn't eat like I did. I'd never been one to be shy with food, especially good food.
After lunch sometime around two or three p.m., we were back up in the gallery and talking about our favorite places in Chicago when Edward's phone beeped from his pocket.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a fancy looking phone. Pressing a few buttons, he frowned and muttered something that sounded like "dammit, Emmett. I know."
Edward punched a few keys and slid the phone back into his pocket before pinching his the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Problem?" I asked softly.
He moved his hand from his face and dragged it through his long hair, rubbing the back of his neck.
"No, just being bugged like normal. I swear, people don't want to leave you alone for a few hours any more just to enjoy life," he grumbled.
I nodded my head in agreement.
We were both quiet for a moment, my head bowed and I watched as I fiddled with my hands in my lap.
Edward sighed suddenly and spoke.
"So there's this gallery thing tomorrow night for … uh … this artist I know. No big deal. But I … uh … you know … do you want to go? No big deal if you have other plans, but it should be cool," he said, stammering over every word it seemed.
I smiled at him, his uncertainty actually cute.
"That sounds cool. I'd love to come. Like a date or friends or what?" I answered as butterflies exploded in my stomach.
His eyes flashed a look of panic for a second.
"I don't know. I mean, it could be a date if you want but friends is cool too," he said quickly.
"Friends is good … for now," I replied making sure to stress the "for now." Edward seemed so nervous that I didn't want to spook him off.
His relief was instantaneous. His shoulders lost the stress I hadn't even realized they'd been carrying and he exhaled a large breath.
"Great. The museum's closed tomorrow so I'll just call you with the address of the gallery, okay? I don't think it's very formal but I'll make sure to ask someone who knows," Edward said and smiled brightly at me, my heart skipping that beat again.
His eyes shone at me, telling me he was happy I'd agreed to the gallery thing.
The question was now, was this actually a date or did he mean the friends thing?
He turned his head sideways to me and I caught his wide grin.
Something told me it was probably the former rather than the latter.
Which only meant one thing.
I had a date with Edward.