This chapter will certainly alienate any fence-perchers.
And … hopefully bring lurkers who love my story out of boring, murky McLurkdom. Come play with me!
. . .
For the next month, I stumble around under a storm cloud as I wait for Rose to spill our secret. Once she tells Emmett, it's over. There's no way he'll be subtle or quiet about his feelings. And then Alice will know. Once she knows, everyone will.
I lose my appetite and my weight drops. Edward feeds me a Hershey's candy bar almost every day. I wouldn't eat it, except he gives me the bites in between kisses and caresses. As the impending doom hangs over us, we grow even closer, and I'm terrified of losing it. Every smile, every look, every touch becomes something to cherish.
And I'm angry at Rose because I've unwittingly given her too much power over my life, but she blindsided me. I couldn't have denied the truth, even if I'd tried.
I spend most of my time running, considering the scenarios.
Rose tells Emmett, he loses it and Alice finds out. Alice feels compelled to tell Dad, and he can't … won't … look at me anymore because his heart is broken. He's disgusted and hates me. He nixes the idea of me and Edward moving in together, so I have to give up IU for IPFW to stay in Fort Wayne, and I feel like an unwanted prisoner in my own home.
Dad finds out and immediately kicks both me and Edward out of the house. He says we no longer have a dad. We no longer have financial support, or a place to live. No family, no friends. Edward hangs himself like Mom did, and soon afterwards, so do I.
That's a horrible one and makes me cry so hard that I can't see straight.
Emmett finds out and is okay with it.
Emmett finds out and beats Edward up in the front yard, and when Dad comes to find out what it's all about, Emmett yells that Dad has a pair of incestuous kids in front of the whole neighborhood.
Dad can't believe we've been lying to him for all of these years, but we've all he's got and so he eventually accepts our relationship … as long as we never shove it in his face.
Alice finds out and never wants to see me again. She and Rose, and Jasper and Emmett, ignore us and Dad wants to know why they never come around anymore.
"Bella, you're destroying yourself," Edward tells me. "Stop it. We'll deal with this one step at a time, like we always have."
"I'm afraid," I say. "All the time, I'm so afraid. I don't want to lose you. And I hate the thought that I might."
He pulls me onto his lap straddle-style. "You won't ever lose me. We are adults now, Bella. Even if Dad found out about us and didn't allow us to get that apartment in South Bend, we would still find ways to be together. It's not going to destroy us. Not if you don't let it."
His eyes are as soft as the pads of his fingers on my face, and my heart turns over in my chest.
When did our rolls switch? He used to do all the worrying, and I was the accepting one.
"How did you get through this?" I ask him. "When we were younger and you were afraid we'd get caught?"
He puts his forehead against mine. "I got through it because of you."
I push my hands into his hair and kiss him as softly as I can. I'm always startled by how much I feel for him—it just kind of floods my whole being every once in a while, stealing my breath. Sometimes it hurts because I love him so much. I want to laugh and I want to cry because it's too much!
"Josie," I laugh against his mouth.
He wants to keep kissing, but I'm still laughing. "What?"
"Josie Geller. That movie Never Been Kissed."
I give him a look of heavy significance, which he returns with an uplifted eyebrow.
"She was right," I tell him. "When I kiss you, I want to laugh and cry because I love you so much, and I'm terrified at the same time that I'm going to lose it all."
Edward huffs out a laugh and leans forward to bite my neck gently, and every inch of my skin is aware of every inch of his.
"You said you couldn't imagine being stuck kissing only one person for the rest of your life," I say breathlessly as he soothes the bite with his tongue and lips.
"I was lying," he murmurs and kisses his way back up to my lips. "I wanted to kiss you so badly, and only you."
"You did," I say. "That night, you did."
He gives me one of his soul-spinning kisses, the kind that leaves me dazed while my insides burn.
"I know I did. It was our first kiss," he says against my lips, pulling me closer to him.
"Tell me we're going to make it," I beg him. "Please."
"I will, if you say it back to me." His expression is both fierce and solemn.
"Yes."
"Bella, we're going to make it," he says, and I take an unsteady breath at the intensity of his tone.
"We're going to make it, Edward," I say and press my own promise against his kiss-bruised mouth.
. . .
On Sunday, August 24, Edward and I move into our apartment. Alice and Jasper left for Chicago a couple of days ago, so it's just Dad and Emmett helping us. I'm sure she hates herself for it, but for whatever reason, Rose is keeping our secret, and I breathe through every moment like the miracle it is.
We bought a couple of Ikea beds, bookshelves and bedroom furniture, so the bulk of the time is spent trying to put those together. One of the end tables and a recliner from the basement at home is in our new living room, with plans to find a garage sale sofa someplace nearby. We already found some kitchenware, but I wanted some cast iron skillets because nothing else can compare. And nothing quite says home like a couple of soft rugs I can walk on barefoot, so I begged Dad to splurge there.
I meticulously scrub the inside of the kitchen cabinets, hang old bath towels lovingly on their racks, and set out vanilla-scented candles on every available flat space. When it's all said and done, we have the beginnings of a new home. It's a hodge-podge of mis-matched and differently colored furniture and fabrics, but it's the most beautiful, wonderful thing I've seen lately and I couldn't love it anymore if it was the Ritz.
We order out for pizza and sit around the lone coffee table, while Dad sits in the recliner. I drink a Coke, while the three of them have well-deserved beers.
"None of this when I'm gone, young lady," Dad says to me and raises the bottle of Bud in his hand.
I feel a pang as I realize that should be the least of his worries, and I feel horrible for a long moment until I push the feeling away.
"I wouldn't, Dad," I say and put my hand over my chest, and I mean it sincerely. I hate beer. It's awful, and I don't know how they can stand it.
"This place rocks," Emmett says, punches his chest once, and belches. "But now it's a home."
Dad chuffs out a laugh and belches by mistake, and then Edward is belching and I want to barf.
"Okay, now for the rules," Dad tells us a bit later.
Edward frowns. "The rules?"
"That's right," Dad says and frowns back at him.
"Okay, hit me," I say and sit at his feet Indian style. At this moment, I'm prepared to give in to almost anything. If Edward knows what good for himself, he'd better, too.
Dad pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket, and spends a good amount of time smoothing out the creases as Emmett horks with laughter.
"Rule number one: do not drink and drive. Ever. I can't stop either of you from drinking, I know this, but you will not drink and drive."
Edward and I do the equivalent of crossing our hearts, hoping to die, and sticking a needle in our eyes.
"Rule number two: no drugs, no smoking. No pot, no uppers, no downers. Get enough sleep and always have some coffee or Coke on hand, and you'll be fine. Understand?"
That's an easy one. Both Edward and I are active and good grade-oriented. Drugs would definitely interfere with that.
"Rule number three: no big parties. You're here to study. You can have dinner and study parties, but big parties? I'll send the cops after you two if I need to."
We agree not to hang from the chandelier or play any games of quarters.
"Rule number f—"
"This is a lot of rules, Emmett says.
"Shut up, you. Rule number four: always answer my phone calls. I don't care what time it is, if you're in the bathroom, or if you're in class. You. Will. Answer. Your. Phone. Got it?"
We solemnly swear on our iPhones.
And then Dad is up and saying that's all, he's leaving now, and my throat is closing in panic and fear. Before he can get too near the front door, I've got my arms wrapped like a cobra around him and I'm sobbing like an idiot.
"Aw, come on, Bella, you big baby," Emmett says and pats my back hard enough to make me squeak.
"Now, now. I'm not leaving forever," Dad says and sways us back and forth in a hug. Not that he has a choice. I'm not letting go yet. I can't. "I'm only a phone call away. I promise I'll always pick up, too, no matter what time it is. Okay?"
"Okay," I sniff. "I love you, Daddy."
"Ohhhh, she's pulling out the Daddy," Emmett says.
"Shut up, Em," Dad growls.
"Alright, dude, I'm taking off. I'll catch you in a couple of weeks, yeah?"
He and Edward do the one-arm guy hug and slap each other's backs.
"Thanks for helping us, Em."
Dad finally escapes my arms and then he's hugging Edward and murmuring in his ear too lowly for me to hear. I bet he's telling Edward not to let me date a jerk, or anybody at all, or something.
When Dad and Emmett are gone, Edward and I stare across the living room at each other. He looks as surprised and excited as I feel, and then he springs at me and tries to kiss me with his beer breath.
"Go brush your teeth," I giggle at him and push him away.
He turns and grabs his bottle, then holds it out to me. "Drink."
"No way! Dad's not even out of the parking lot yet. Are you losing it?"
"I have no idea where my toothbrush is. Take a swig so I can kiss you, damn it."
I happen to know his toothbrush is hanging in the holder inside of the medicine cabinet, but maybe he's right and having to brush his teeth would ruin our celebratory moment. So I take a drink, wince and shudder.
"Ugh!"
He takes the bottle back after making me take another big swig, and then he's got his hands under my armpits and he's swinging me in circles around the room. My flying feet knock the pizza box off the coffee table. Thank God it's empty.
"We're home!" he yells.
I just smile. Part of me feels like home walked out the door a few minutes ago.
"It's okay, Bella," he says and pulls me into the recliner with him. "I forget that this is your first time being away from home, on your own. At least you've got me, though."
I snuggle in his arms. "At least we've got each other," I correct him.
"And we'll take care of each other now."
"I'm not doing your laundry."
"Not even my socks?"
"Especially not your socks."
He laughs and digs his fingers into my sides. "You can chase me, but I'll always be miles away. What am I?"
"I'm not chasing you," I laugh and try to squirm away, but he surprises me by dumping me head-first out of the chair. He smacks my butt on my way to the floor, and then he's racing away from me and I'm chasing him like I just said I wouldn't.
We end up in his bedroom, in the bigger bed. I didn't get a chance to put the sheets on yet, so they're still folded neatly at the end of the bed until our kicking feet knock them off.
"The sheets," I yelp.
He flips me over onto my back and then pins my hands to the mattress.
"Forget the sheets," he says and the look in his eyes makes my heart jump. It's the look that turns me into mush in two seconds flat.
"Do you want me?" he whispers.
"A-A-Always," I stutter because that look on his face makes a giddy fool out of me.
"I don't want to wait another second," he says and brings his lips slowly, slowly to mine. As he barely touches me, he whispers, "I can't wait anymore, Bella. It's all I think of lately. So tell me: do you want me?"
He's nuts. He had me at forget the sheets.
"I want you," I say and weave my fingers into his hair so I can finally yank his teasing mouth to mine.
And before we get carried away, because I know we will, I say, "I've been on birth control for two months now. So you don't, you know, need a condom."
He groans and lays his forehead against my chest.
"What?" I gasp. Does he want to use a condom?
"You're killing me," he says.
"How?"
He just laughs. "You don't even know how you tempt me, and then you go and say that."
"I tempt you?"
"Yes. You're perfect, Bella, I swear everything you do—it's like you're just made for me. The way you smile and joke with me, how you look at me sometimes, how you always know just what to say. You walk in a room … and I want to be your oxygen."
He's definitely my oxygen now as he slants his mouth across mine almost harshly, suddenly fierce and hard and taking. He's what I need, what I want, so I'm soft, willing and giving, because I love to give him what he needs, to be what he wants. And we're not living a lie when we're together like this. In fact, it's the only time we don't have to lie.
"I love you," he whispers brokenly and there are tears in his eyes. "No matter what."
For once, I refuse to cry. I'll be the strong now. "I love you more," I whisper back and smooth my thumb across the thick eyebrows that can make him look forbidding, or sad puppy-like if he chooses.
"No, you don't," he says and takes my bottom lip in his mouth. His eyes are still fierce and tear-filled, and he sinks his teeth deliberately into the soft of my mouth. And I'm all his so I close my eyes in surrender.
"Mine," he says.
"All yours."
"I will never find anyone as perfect as you are," he breathes.
"I'm not per—"
He kisses me again and again until I'm hot and burning and the world spins in colors of rose and velvet black. And then he's pushing my t-shirt up and releasing my arms so he can slide it off. His chest is bare against mine, and then we're bare from toe to neck and it's like silk against hot steel and I can't get enough as we slide and move together.
His breath fans out jerkily against my breasts as he cups and lifts them to his mouth. I arch, wanting his tongue and his teeth and something … something just out of reach, but close enough to tantalize and make me feel like I'm breaking apart in the best of ways.
"I want to see you," I breathe because he's never let me see him and I'm not going to let him get away with it this time. I want his skin, his colors, his heat, to sear me from the inside out so I can never forget.
"I can't," he says. Gulps. "I'll come if I see you looking at me, Bella."
I whine and arch and try to push him off, and he lets me. He backs up and I push myself up on my elbows to see what he's been denying me. And I notice his eyes, his black eyes, are devouring my body like I want to devour his.
His chest is lean, but well-defined, and I count a one-two-three-four-pack. His nipples are pink, hard little buds that match his lips in color, and I push myself up to my knees because I have to kiss them. His nipples. His lips. He groans as my mouth and my teeth encircle him, and I bite him hard because he's mine and I want him to know it. To feel it, to see it.
He yelps and flinches as my palm runs down his silken skin from his ribs to the V at his hips.
"Let me," I say when his hands tangle with mine to try and keep me from touching him. He moans, grabs the base of his erection and squeezes. And I'm all loving, craving, hot eyes as I stare at him, at the purple-red head of his cock. He's big, and I think that's why he didn't let me see him before now—because he thought his size would scare me. Which it kind of does, at the same time that it excites me.
"Bellllllla," he says and thrusts in his hand and I see that yes, he is close to coming. His thick fencer's thighs are powerful, strong columns of muscle, but nothing can keep my eyes from his cock. I want it inside me. I need it inside me.
"You're beautiful," I say. "You're perfect."
We fall back on the bed together, and he's surging between my legs, dragging his cock against my wetness and shaking like he's ready to break apart already.
I lift my hips on his next movement and the head of his cock slips inside me.
"Fuck," he says and hooks both his arms under my thighs to lift my bum up off the bed. I'm totally open and vulnerable to him now, and I love it.
"Please," I say. "Do it. I'm yours, Edward."
He moves in me slightly, then pulls back and moves in farther. But his back is arched away from me like it hurts, like he's afraid.
"It's going to hurt," he says. "Bella, I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
I arch back and, using my feet, pull him into me. He sinks inside until his hips hit me, and the pain stings and makes me cry out despite myself. It's tearing and I'm tight and breaking, but he's inside me and his eyes on are mine and it's all right.
"Oh god," he breathes.
I breathe back, but I'm out of words, so I run my hands up his arms, which are shaking, and tighten my legs around his waist. It burns, it burns, but it burns so good.
"Bella," he says. "Are you alright?"
I arch under him and he groans again like he's in pain. Which he probably is, because he's not moving.
"You can move," I tell him.
"So good," he moans. "It feels so good, and I hate that it doesn't for you."
"It's okay," I say. "I want you to come inside me. Now. Now."
It's the impetus he needs, and he moves in me once, twice, gently, oh so gently, and then he's crying real tears and jerking and breaking apart in my arms.
And he's mine like he never was before.
. . .
Edward's riddle answer for Bella: the horizon