It's the week before Christmas, and the day before Edward comes home, when Sue finds me in the living room decorating the Christmas tree. She must have let herself in, because I didn't hear the doorbell ring. My bones almost pop out of my skin, I'm so shocked to see her standing there.
I'm also kind of mad. While I know she and Dad are practically living together, because they're together almost every day, she doesn't live here. Couldn't she have at least knocked?
"Sue?" I let my eyebrow arch so she knows I'm not cool with being surprised like this.
Dad's not home because there's something going on at work that requires his attention. He and Sue left together this morning, but here she is now.
Alone.
And looking nervous.
She's practically wringing her hands. I'd feel sorry for her if I didn't have a strong suspicion about why she's here, and if dread wasn't currently filling my bloodstream like ice.
"Bella, I'm so sorry to barge in on you like this, but I was hoping to talk to you alone."
I hang a glass ball on the tree and try to look blasé. "About?"
"Could we … sit down please?"
I close my eyes, swallow and turn with a smile. "Sure. Do you want something to drink?"
"No, no, I'm fine."
"Well, I'm a bit thirsty," I say and wave at the tree. "Decorating's tough work. I'm going to get a Coke. Sure you don't want anything?"
She follows me into the kitchen. "Maybe a glass of water."
I'm pouring her a glass when she speaks again. "I don't know how to say this, so I guess I'll just come right out with it."
That comment nudges the ice in my blood up into my throat. I hope she doesn't see that my hand shakes as I set the glass on the table.
"Um, okay?"
She takes a big breath. "I overheard Teresa on the phone with one of her friends the other day. She was talking about you and Edward kissing each other on the mouth."
Holy! Stay calm. Be cool.
"Really? Well, I've pecked Edward on the lips enough times for her to see us, I guess."
After that smooth line, I pull out a can of Coke from the fridge and take a couple of chugs that burn my throat. Then, and only then, do I turn around and look at her again.
"Why? Is that a problem?" I ask.
Sue all but falls into one of the kitchen chairs. She wraps her hands around the glass of water, then raises her eyes to mine.
"It was the way she was talking that got me worried," she says with a sigh. "Like … she'd caught you and Edward in a secret act, and now she's spreading rumors about what she thinks she's seen."
I lean back against the counter and wait for her to continue.
"I ended her phone call then and there. After all, I didn't raise a daughter to spread those kind of lies. I was very angry with her, and she's lost her phone privileges for a month. But after talking with her, I realized that she's convinced she saw something between you and Edward. And … I thought you should know."
I can't hide my own anger and hurt, but I think that's okay. Those feelings would be normal under the circumstances. But I can't defend myself or Edward without looking guilty. I can't even try.
"I don't know what she thinks she saw, but I hope you can stop her from spreading rumors like this," I say. "That's, like, the last thing my dad needs right now."
Sue gives me a long look. Concern is etched across her face. I can't tell if she believes me or if she believes her daughter, but it doesn't matter. There's no proof of anything. And like Edward said once, it's Teresa's word against mine. Against his.
"Normally I wouldn't have even brought this up with you, but I know you've been through a lot already. And I guess I wouldn't want you or Edward, or your dad, to be taken unaware if someone were to be stupid enough to repeat what Teresa's said. These kind of rumors can spread like wildfire."
I can feel my shoulders slump a little. She's not here to confront me at all; she's here to make sure that if I am confronted, I'm prepared.
"I'm really sorry, Bella," she whispers.
"Yeah. Me, too," I say.
So Teresa's got a big mouth. Hopefully no one she told knows someone who knows Edward or me. It would be difficult to pretend not to hear this from people at school. I can't even imagine what Edward's going to say when he hears this.
Next September can't come fast enough.
. . .
Edward and I are under the tree again on Christmas Eve Night. Actually, it's already Christmas Day since it's after one in the morning. And this time, we're both hoping for a miracle.
"Well, Teresa is spending Christmas with her dad," I say.
"That's a start," Edward murmurs and rolls over to kiss me.
"And Dad is going to spend Christmas Day night with Sue and her parents," I continue between kisses.
"Even better."
He pulls me under his body and I open my legs so he can come up against me. When he does, I can't help moaning. I've missed him, missed this, so much. But we probably shouldn't be doing this right here, right now.
"But Alice wants us to come to their house tonight."
"Tell Alice we can't make it," he breathes and slides a hand under my butt so he can angle me against him better. "Tell her you and I want to spend the night alone."
"Edward," I laugh and moan. "Not here, okay?"
He stills against me and groans, as if he'd forgotten where we were.
"Dammit," he says and pushes against me one last time, making me gasp. "Then let's go upstairs."
"I thought you didn't want to," I tell him as he tugs me up.
"I never not want to," he says and yanks me against his chest. His eyes are nearly black with desire and I know mine are, too. We're panting and I can barely stand up straight.
Before I know what he's doing, he's hauled me up into his arms child-style. "Wrap your legs around me," he says and pushes me against the living room wall beside the fireplace. Once my legs are wrapped around his waist, he starts rocking against me. We're both in pajamas, so I'm already wearing next to nothing, and I can feel his steel and heat against me, right where I need it. But we could lose ourselves so easily, and Dad could hear, so I have to stop him before it's too late.
"Not here," I whisper against his mouth. "Take me to my room."
He growls and rocks harder against me.
"Edward, no," I say. "Dad."
And he growls again, and lowers his head to my neck. "I want you right here, right now."
"I know," I say. "I do, too. Just take me upstairs."
"I won't make it," he says and drags my hand to the band of his sweat pants. Cupping my hand in his, he shoves it down his pants and curls his fingers around mine, around his cock. Meanwhile, I'm slowly sliding down the wall because he can't both hold me up and back up enough to let me give him a hand job.
"Please," he whispers brokenly as we sink to the floor, and his hand tightens around mine and moves it up and down his shaft.
And I'm surprised that he's this out of control when he's usually so in control.
He's hot and stiff and wet in my hand, and his breathing is wildly erratic. As his hands push my own pair of sweats down my legs, I realize he's lost total control. And why couldn't this be happening in the basement, or in one of our rooms? Why does he suddenly have to lose control in the living room of all places?
I scramble to my feet and out of his hands. "Come on," I hiss and race for the basement.
After a pause, he's up and running after me. I try to walk softly down the basement stairs, but he's like an elephant behind me, so I stop and let him catch me. He pulls me up hard against him, his grip almost too tight, and we fall and slide down the last few steps.
It's dark because we both forgot to flip the light switch, but I feel him rip my pants off, and I hear rustling as he jerks his own down. And then he's on top of me on the floor, and his hands and his body are clumsy against me.
"Bella, please," he says.
"It's okay," I whisper. He's surging against me, but he also wants to touch me down there, so he pushes my panties aside to feel me.
"Oh god, you're so wet," he groans.
"Don't stop," I say as he drags a finger against me. It's slippery and tingly and something is building fast in my stomach. Holy cow, losing control is fun.
He rips my panties on the right side and presses himself against me. And we're bare against each other, heat against heat, hard against soft. We're rubbing and sliding and it's so hot and feels so good that I feel like I'm going to die if it gets any stronger. We're moving so wild and erratically that the tip of him slides inside of me, and I groan and lift my legs higher because I'm aching and he's so close to the ache.
Then he's panting and shaking and groaning, and he moves just slightly in me once, twice, three times before he jerks away with a gasp, and he's coming across my pelvis and stomach. And I'm still moving because I'm still aching, so I bring my hand to myself because I'm so close. He falls beside me and adds his fingers to mine, so we're both moving against me, deep and then at the tip of me, and now I'm the one who's shaking and breaking apart.
"I'm sorry," he breathes a few minutes later.
"Don't you dare say you're sorry," I say fiercely. "That was hot. Although I wish you would lose control at the same times I do."
He laughs weakly and cleans me up with the bottom of his t-shirt. "I guess that's been building a while. I try not to think of how much I want you when I'm around you, Bella, but sometimes … obviously, it's hard."
"I'm going to ask if I can go on birth con—"
We hear a floorboard creak upstairs. For a second, we're frozen, and then we're up and running for the couch. Edward grabs the remote and turns the TV on, and we pull the blanket on the back of the couch over us.
"Bella? Edward?" Dad's scratchy, cranky voice.
"Shhhh," Edward says and combs his fingers through my hair. "You're asleep."
I lay my head against the pillow and try to calm my breathing. On the TV, I hear muted voices as Dad lightly runs down the stairs in his slippers.
"Dad?" Edward asks, and his voice sounds as groggy as Dad's.
"You two still up?"
"No, we must have fallen asleep."
"I thought I heard something."
I hear Edward yawn and rub his face. "All I heard was your voice as you came downstairs."
"Well, you two should be in bed now. It's late. Wake your sister up. Santa won't come if you're not in your beds, you know. Come on."
Edward's hand is hot and sweaty against my arm, and I squint up at his face as I act like I'm waking up. Actually, since Dad turned the light on, I don't have to act like I'm squinting. Neither does Edward.
"Time for all little girls and boys to be in bed," Edward says with a wry twist of his lips.
"Come on, Bells," Dad adds wearily as he starts back up stairs. "Santa's waiting."
I follow Dad's heels up the stairs and feel like a criminal. Behind me, Edward shuts the TV off and the nighttime hush is heavy with our footsteps and my guilt.
I lock my door that night as a precaution, and text Edward to stay in his bed.
This was too damn close, in more ways than one. First, we almost had unprotected sex, and then Dad!
We've been so good the past few months, making it a point to go out with our friends, to study hard, to give up more Saturdays together than we'd like. Maybe it's taking a toll on us, maybe it's making us even more crazy for each other than we usually are, although that's hard to imagine.
But whatever the reason, it can't happen again.
. . .
Dad's helping me box up the Christmas decorations when I suddenly notice that he's lost weight. He stretched from his tiptoes up to his fingertips for the tree topper, and his beer gut is just gone.
"Ohmigod," I cry and he jumps a foot and whips around with the angel topper in his hands. His eyes are as wide as his mouth.
"What, Bella, what?"
"How much weight have you lost?"
He glowers and points the angel at me. "I haven't lost weight, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't yell at me like a hooligan in my own house."
"If you lose any more weight, your pants are going to fall down," I warn him.
"Guys don't lose weight," he says and hands me the angel rather forcefully. "They lose inches."
"Well, if you lose any more inches, your—"
"Can we talk about something else, please? Anything else."
I drop a couple of glass balls into their cardboard partitions. "I've decided to apply to Indiana University in Bloomington," I say. "It's close to where Edward's going and I figure we could get an apartment together."
"Hmmm. You talk to Edward about that?"
He hands me two more balls.
"Yes."
"And? He's okay shacking up with his sister?"
I give Dad a look. "Of course. I cook and clean. What's not to like?"
Dad grunts. "That's actually a good idea. A really good idea. Surprised I didn't think of it. Edward's really okay with it, huh? Good, good. He can look after you."
Yeah, he'll look after me alright.
We're quiet as we strip the tree bare, and I'm waiting and hoping Dad will say something about putting some of Mom's life insurance towards our apartment.
"We can get jobs, I guess, to help pay the rent," I sigh. "But going to school and working part time is going to be hard."
He snickers. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to, young lady."
"What?" And I blink at him.
"I can't afford to pay for a house and an apartment. But that's why I was holding on to your Mom's life insurance money. I was going to use it for part of your college tuition, but maybe the rent would be a better option."
I squeal and wrap my arms around him and jump.
"Hold on there, Bella," he says, his words coming out all broken up because I'm jostling him with my jumping. "First you have to get accepted at the college."
But I just laugh. Piece of cake. Nothing's going to stop me now.
. . .
"Being in love should make you happy," I say to Jasper one day in the spring. "It should make you feel free, like breaking out into song or doing a crazy dance in the middle of anywhere, anytime. It should make you feel like you're in the world and not just on it."
He nods in agreement with what I've said. "But in your case, it's different. I know, Bella. I'm sorry."
"If you want to be sorry about anything, be sorry that I can't sing You're My Best Friend right now," I tell him.
He gives me a look. "Well, I'm not sorry about that."
We snicker and poke at each other.
In August, Jasper and Alice are leaving for Chicago's School of the Art Institute. Rose is staying here to go to the same college as Emmett. Plus, she just wants to stay close to home.
August seems far away, and yet I know how quickly the days can pass. We'll all still be close geographically, but emotionally and psychologically? I don't think I can live for long with this kind of a lie, but how can I not tell my closest friends?
"I'm afraid we'll lose each other if Alice and Rose find out about me and Edward," I say to Jasper.
"You mean you and me?" He asks.
"Well, everyone. But especially you and me," I say and lay my head against his shoulder. "I don't think I could have survived this long without you, Jasper."
He sighs. "You won't lose me, Bella. No one, not even Alice, can tell me who my friends should be. And you'll always have me, I promise."
"Alice won't like it."
"She doesn't have to."
"I don't want to lose Rose," I whisper.
"Maybe she'll surprise the hell out of you. Maybe … she'll be okay with it in the long run."
"I wish I had my magic eight ball."
He pulls Sprock out of his jacket pocket.
"Maybe," Sprock says in his non-Jasper deep tone of voice, "Maybe Rose will accept who you both are and love you anyway, like Jasper does."
"Maybe," I tell the sock.
But I don't think either of us believes that, though.
. . .
Everybody's just dying to know … is there going to be an HEA?
If you don't want to be spoiled, stop reading now.
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I won't break your heart, but I do plan to tug on it. Otherwise, why bother? A good heart tug is good for the soul.
And while HEAs are for fairy tales, I am planning to write an HE. A happy ending.
So you can breathe now.