I don't own Twilight.
Bella
He just wants to eat. He wants food. It's not a big deal. He's hungry and he is forced to drive you home. Don't get excited. If it weren't for Jasper, Alice would be joining us.
Us.
Look straight ahead, Bella. Don't trip, now is not the time to be clumsy. He doesn't need to be reminded of the fact that you're a child. Shoulders up, back straight. You've watched enough America's Next Top Model to know how to walk. It's not a catwalk, moron. Next thing I know I'm going to try to smile with my eyes. Ugh. I'm such a loser.
"So Bella, what would you like to eat?" Edward asks.
Shit.
"Umm, I'm fine with whatever," I reply.
"If you don't want to stop for some food, that's fine."
"No, you're hungry," I say, trying to give him a reassuring smile.
I expect him to stop somewhere on the way, maybe a McDonalds drive thru, something to eat in the car while we drive back to Forks. I decide I'll just get a small strawberry shake. My eyes go back to his hands on the steering wheel and I sigh.
"What's up, Bella?"
"Uhhh. Nothing, just tired," I tell him.
"We can drive straight home, it's alright, I have some stuff in my fridge I'll eat."
Noooo...
"I'm actually feeling pretty hungry myself, Edward. Like, really hungry."
He smiles, "Ok then, I know this place close by. Let's eat here in Port Angeles."
We stop at a restaurant. Like a real restaurant, not some diner or fast food joint. I'm terrified at this point. I know this is just a meal with my boss who's kind enough to act as my chauffeur all summer, my dad's buddy, someone who at best looks at me like I'm his kid sister. It's going to be ok, he's just hungry and doesn't want to eat crap. That's all.
"Come on Miss Swan, we don't want to be too late. What's bedtime for kids these days?" he jokes.
Really? Prick.
The host sees us walking towards her, and her eyes become wide the second they're on Edward. She doesn't give me a second glance. She smiles and I think maybe flirts with him as she takes us to our table. Apparently I'm invisible, but it's cool. What did I expect? They probably assume I'm his sister and that he's the greatest older brother ever, taking his kid sis out for a nice meal. I feel really sad all of a sudden and slump down in my seat, no longer caring about how I look or what he thinks.
"That bad, huh?"
"Hmmm?"
"Dinner with your boss. Boring old guy you have to put up with every day. I'm sure you have better things to do than humor me like this," Edward says.
He's kidding right?
It is at moments like this one when I can decide to be bold, confident, show him I'm not some kid sulking across the table, or in the passenger seat.
"I don't think of you as a boring old guy. I certainly don't feel as though I'm 'putting up' with you or 'humoring' you. If anything, I'm worried about how bored you are going to get having me around all summer."
Edward
Ahem.
Is she being polite? Is she flirting? She's blushing again, it's sweet. She has to stop doing that thing with her lip. I'm starting to believe she's got this whole seduce-your-boss thing down to a science. She's playing with me. Bullshit she hasn't been kissed – this whole shy girl thing is an act.
Now I can smile and just continue reading the menu, or say something myself.
"Somehow, bored isn't what comes to mind when I think about having you around all summer," I tell her.
Smart, Cullen.
I see her eyes turn into huge saucers, she says nothing and starts reading the menu intently. Good. She's not even going to acknowledge that. Good girl. Stop saying that. What is she, your dog? Bad girl. I wonder if her school makes her wear a uniform and if she would wear it for me as I spank her. She'd like that, who wouldn't? Some light spanking during foreplay... Maybe she'd put her hair up in pigtails too. Those will come in handy when I...
"Edward? Have you decided what you're going to get?"
Fuck, I can't keep doing this. Focus on something else. Anything else. But my eyes go straight to these freckles she has on her chest. A few of her top buttons are undone, and I can't help but stare at the freckles. I want to touch them and count them, follow them up to her nose and kiss them. Maybe brush my lips across her forehead before staring into her eyes, foreheads touching, breathing into each other's mouths. Did she actually have those same eyes yesterday? The day before? Chocolate. Deep. Smoldering. This is no little girl.
And yet, they're so innocent.
Innocent.
At this point I know she realizes that I've been staring at her. I have nothing I want to say. There's really nothing I can say. She doesn't attempt to make small talk either. At some point I guess the waitress comes and we order some food, and I guess our food is served and we start to eat it, but I don't what the fuck is going on. I'm just staring at her. Her eyes, her hair, her fingers, her lips, her freckles, her jaw line. Bella, Bella, Bella.
As we get back into the car, the tension is palpable. Neither of us has said a word since Bella asked me if I knew what I wanted to eat. When she lets out a sigh and stretches I am caught by surprise, and look at her. She's smiling at me.
"Thank you, Mr. Cullen. Can we play again?" she asks.
Is she fucking kidding me?
"Rematch?" I smile.
"Well, we never actually finished the last round," she points out. "You couldn't come up with anything after my Fellini quote, remember?"
"Actually, Miss Swan, I'm pretty sure you were all 'flustered' after my last quote," I tease, and give her my trademark smile.
Silence.
"Your slightest look easily will enclose me," she says, her voice shaking slightly.
Breathe, Cullen. You know the next line.
"Though I have closed myself as fingers."
She looks at me, this time I let my eyes meet her eyes. She looks pensive, and my heart clenches in my chest when her lips part to give me the next line, or another quote, but I don't let her.
"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility."
"Cheater," Bella pouts.
"I'm sorry," I tell her.
"Now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened."
Interesting. Come up with something. Let her know. Because she has to know. It doesn't matter that you will never touch her, that you will never have her, that she will never scream your name while contracting around your cock.
Of course it matters. That's what you want. That's what you need. If this goes on any longer you're going to be jacking off in the bathroom at work with the image of her walking to the car swaying her hips in your head. Come on Cullen, you'll be able to think of better things than that. Just look at those pouty lips. You can think of those lips around your head. Soft. Wet. Warm. Fuck. Not even fucking necessary. Just those hips and how they hypnotize me. That will be enough. Come on Cullen, come up with something. Dazzle her.
This is not right. I shouldn't even be thinking about 'dazzling' her. What the fuck does that mean anyway? End the game now. Charlie. Gun. Chris Hansen. Innocent. Child.
"I am not to speak to you--I am to think of you when I sit alone, or
wake at night alone,
I am to wait--I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you."
"Oh."
I feel a lump in my throat as I see her face fall. No, she's not stupid. She gets it.
Bella
Well, thank you Walt Whitman for those words.
Does he mean it? We can't speak? No, he doesn't mean it. Because if he meant it, he also meant the part about thinking of me... he doesn't think of me. He's playing. He loves poetry and we have two hours a day to kill in the car. Maybe it's the first thing that popped into his head and it means nothing. Maybe I should continue. But I know I can't. I won't even acknowledge my defeat, though. I just want silence. There is something in this car that we carried over with us from the restaurant. This blanket of... I don't know what it is. Tension? Is this what they mean? It is enveloping me, I feel like I can float away in it, but it's also too much. I need to breathe.
"Bella. Did you get a chance to look at those papers?"
"Ummm. Yeah."
"Thoughts?"
"Edward is it ok if I just rest until we get back to Forks? I'm ummm... tired."
"Sure, of course. I'm sorry," he says, clearing his throat.
"No, it's fine."
So we are speaking. Duh. I want to turn around and give him another one of my reassuring smiles, but I can't. I'm letting a line from a poem he used during a game break me. I had some hope that maybe he'd be interested. Since he's such a heartbreaker, I'm assuming this shouldn't be a big deal for him. But do I even want to be with someone like that? If I really think of him as a player, is that something I want? No. Yes. No. I don't know what this is. I want to crumple into a heap of nothingness in his arms. Just smell him and feel him. Is that ok? He doesn't have to do anything. Is that... ok?
The car pulls to a stop in front of Charlie's and I get out.
"Thank you," I tell him.
"You're welcome. Eight o'clock?"
I nod and run inside.
Edward
8:03
Where is she? Should I knock on the door? Should I call the house? Why don't I have her number in my phone?
Because, Edward, if you did, you would have acted like a moron last night and called her, or texted her. That's why.
I see the door open and Charlie comes out with a big smile on his face.
"Edward, Bella will be right out. I told her I wanted a word with you first."
Shit.
"Charlie, how's it going? Of course. What's on your mind?" I ask him.
"Just wanted to know how my little girl's doing. Is she any trouble? She doesn't talk much, ya know, so I'm left in the dark."
"She's great, Charlie," I answer truthfully. So great. "I have a hard time remembering she's in high school and isn't one of our college interns. She does a really great job and we all love her."
Well, that can be interpreted in a number of ways.
"Good, I'm glad. I feel good knowing you're here to keep an eye on her, wouldn't want her driving back and forth on her own. I really appreciate it. If she's ever any trouble - "
"No trouble," I assure him.
Charlie starts walking back to the house and Jailbait walks out, clumsy and hesitant this morning.
Fuck me.
Jailbait is wearing a plaid skirt.
Now, it's not a schoolgirl skirt, but it's a plaid skirt nonetheless. She's covered up on top, but she's wearing a plaid skirt and my pants become tighter and it's getting fucking uncomfortable and I can't wait until she's in the car, because looking at her walking over to me with those legs that lead to what I can only imagine is heaven is torture.
"Good morning."
"Hey."
Jailbait decides to remove her jacket and she's wearing a tight white tank top, or whatever that thing is.
Turn off the air conditioning now, Cullen. Turn it off.
Too fucking late.
I actually groan and sit back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. She knows what she's doing and there's no use pretending that it's not killing me.
"Is everything alright?" she asks me.
"Oh, just peachy, Bella."
Peaches.
If someone had told me a few months ago that I'd be sitting in a car with a 16-year-old trying to control the most massive erection in the history of all erections while trying to not stare at the hardest nipples that have ever made their presence known under a white tank, I'd be pretty fucking offended.
I'm not some 17-year-old who can't control himself around some nipple. That shit's not even exposed.
I'm not some predator who takes little girls on rides. That shit's wrong.
I don't have a fucking car because I live in a sick high rise in the city and meet girls my own age. Well, perhaps not my own age, but definitely not under twenty-one.
But no, apparently I just a predator, and this girl does things to me that I never thought possible. And right now, I don't give a fuck if Charlie catches me banging her over the kitchen sink, I'm going to say the first fucking thing that comes out of my mouth.
"You are here. Oh, you do not run away
You will - "
"No," she snaps.
Shit.
"Neruda is off the table. You can't quote him. The first time someone quotes him to me it will be because in my life he can see everything that lives."
Her words don't make sense for a second, but then I understand.
"You just quoted him yourself," I point out to her.
"Off the table, Edward."
"Fair enough, I understand."
"Ok, good."
I look at Bella and want to tell it's not fair. I should be able to woo her using the hottest and most romantic poetry ever written.
"So I can't say what just naturally comes to mind?" I ask.
"You're telling me that that's the first thing that comes to mind?"
"It was two minutes ago," I admit to her.
"Have some pity on me," she starts, "you should know what kind of effect you have on me. I cannot believe I'm saying this to you right now, I'm so embarrassed... Just, pretend I'm not here, or be my boss, or - "
Or?
"Bella, I'm so sorry. I don't want to upset you. Shit. I don't understand. I didn't know this was affecting you this way, you wanted to play... I'm sorry. I'm your friend. Don't feel bad."
What am I even saying?
She wants me.
You're such a fucking asshole, Cullen.
"It's alright Edward," she sighs.
I watch her for a minute as she stares out the window, her expression blank. She squirms a little in her seat until she notices my iPod and looks at me. I nod, smiling. My iPod is in her hands, and Bella is going through my playlists. I want to reach out and show her where to go, what to listen to, but I absolutely cannot touch her.
"What are all these untitled tracks?"
"Nothing, recordings. Piano," I explain.
"Recordings of… you?" she asks.
I nod.
"I didn't know you played. May I?"
No, you may not come into my car and listen to my music and make me fall in love with you.
Hold up, what?
"Sure. They're not that great, it's just me playing. It's mostly Mozart, some Chopin, maybe Debussy."
Bella skips around and settles on something to listen to. Of course it would be Clair de Lune. Bella in the moonlight. Bella in my arms in the moonlight. Bella.
The melody is sweet, romantic. There is something so innocent, almost tentative about it. Bella has her eyes closed, she's smiling. My constant urge to fuck her brains out has disappeared. I want nothing more than to just hold her in my arms, have her head resting on my shoulder. I just want to hold her hand. I want to breathe deeply, savoring the moment. Just her in my arms. Bella.
Like an idiot, I take a deep breath.
How have I never noticed the scent of Bella before? It's intoxicating. I know she usually smells a little bit like strawberries, all fruity and girly, but it's more than that right now. It's not even the bewitching scent that came from between her legs the other day. It's heaven.
I'm not a religious man, but I've thought about heaven one too many times this morning.
Cullen: tonight, you tell Charlie this isn't working out. You tell him that you're staying with Alice in Port Angeles because the commute is too long and you have to work long hours. You tell him Bella will be fine driving over in her truck. You will even pay for expenses like gas or whatever for her commute. You will see Bella at work, refer to her as 'Miss Swan' or 'Isabella', be polite and friendly.
But right now, you will breathe in her scent until you are forced out of this car. You will watch her sleep and steal glances at her legs. You will think of every poem ever written that describes what is going on in your mind, in your body, in this car, right fucking now. You will recite them in your head, repeating her name like a chant. You will pray that she turns around so you can look into her eyes again, so that she sees that you would succumb to all her desires, that you would make her yours, if only circumstances were different.
You will be good.
Bella
He wants me. I think he does. I really think he does. Now what?
I'd be lying if I said that I'm not terrified. I have no idea what happens next. He's not some kid from school. He's not ... he's like nobody I've met before. What do I do?
I close my eyes as I hit play on the first track I find. It's melodic, so pretty. I'm so sleepy from staying awake thinking about him all night that I fall asleep, because there aren't enough hours in the day to dream about Edward.
When I open my eyes again he looks so intense. He hears me move and looks at me. I gasp when I see the look in his eyes. All those things I dream about, all those things I desire - I see them there. He turns and keeps his eyes on the road and I don't know what to do. I sit there, staring at my lap.
"I'm looking forward to going through some more of those stories today," I announce.
Nothing.
"I came across some interesting stuff yesterday, but I hope to spend more time on it this morning," I inform him.
Nothing.
"I feel bad taking time from office work to do it, so I'll do it during our commute," I tell him.
Nothing.
"Bella, ummm. Maybe this commuting thing ... Not such a good idea."
"Oh."
"I mean, I know you have a truck and I'll pay for expenses. I mean the office will. I know it'll take longer for you to get there but you can come in later, leave earlier. It's fine," he says.
It's my turn to say nothing.
"It's just that I have this case I have to prepare for, so I will have to stay late sometimes," he explains. "Charlie will want you back home early."
Another one of those moments. I can smile and nod, and pretend that it's a good idea. I can tell him I agree, that he's right. Or I can just tell him what I think.
"I can stay late with you. I can help."
"I wouldn't want you to wait for me, Bella," Edward sighs.
"Wouldn't you wait for me?"
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
What does that even mean?
"That's the plan."
I look at him, confused.
"Patience, Bella."
At this point I have no idea what this motherfucker is talking about. Maybe I was on to something with my meth lab theory. He's a little weird, isn't he? Patience. Plan. Ooook.
"Whatever, Edward."
He laughs. It's not a happy laugh. I realize I just said the most immature thing anyone can say. But what else am I supposed to tell this man who is sitting next to me, attempting to quote Neruda and then telling me to get the fuck out of his life? I realize this isn't an ideal situation. I realize that he's probably fucking terrified of what might happen if we do end up hooking up. (Eww, did I just refer to it as that?) I mean the age of consent may be sixteen, but that's not the only problem here. Ugh. I may be young, but I know that I don't care what the repercussions are. Or maybe I don't care about the repercussions because I am young and careless. Whatever, right? I think I will have to take matters into my own hands. Fuck this. Bella's a big girl now.