AN: Thanks to jcat5507 and Eternally Edward's Girl for their beta'ing and prereading. French kisses to all of you for reading and reviewing. Special hugs to Erron, who may still be reading this on her next birthday.

~~ SHIFTING GEARS ~~

Chapter 3

Rest Day

BPOV

I don't know what it was about Edward that riled me so much, but the next morning as I entered the restaurant, where white tablecloths strained under the weight of breakfast—fruit, cereals, croissants—I couldn't stop my mind from wondering whether he'd spent the night with Carmen Volturi.

The thought had diminished my appetite but I picked up a ruby-red apple and a cereal bar, placing them in my bag for later. Scanning the long trestle tables, I caught Riley's eye, and he waved the half-eaten pain au chocolat at me in greeting. The manic pace of a race day had slowed considerably as the riders enjoyed a much needed break. Many would be heading out onto the roads for a ride, to keep their legs moving and avoid stiffening, and undergoing intensive sessions with their physio.

I hadn't seen Edward, but my eyes unintentionally searched for his distinctive unruly hair, while I poured a cup of strong coffee. The rich aroma hit my nose, energizing me before I'd even sipped it. I tried to remain unaffected by him, but he'd burrowed under my skin. Remembering the way he'd looked at me last night, his eyes lingering intently on my face as I manipulated his taut muscles, made me feel hot and bothered.

"Good Morning, Bella." Marco Volturi appeared by my side. He reached for the coffee pot, and his arm brushed past my body. The invasion of my personal space made me step back, clutching my own cup in front of me as a barrier.

"Morning." I smiled, aiming to placate him had he seen my reaction, but he didn't appear to have noticed. His steel-grey eyes, lingered on my face as he stirred cream into his cup, the metal clinking against china as he tapped the spoon on the edge, settling it on the saucer.

"I spoke with Carmen this morning. She assured me that it was nothing but a friendly chat." He arched a silver eyebrow at me, and I felt foolish for my knee jerk reaction after seeing their little display by the elevators. It had irked me, and I'd politely asked Marco to ensure that his team behaved appropriately—his voluptuous daughter being my main concern.

"Thank you. I'm only concerned that Edward gets enough sleep so he's in peak physical condition. If he overdoes it tonight, his groin will be killing him in the morning." I bit down on my tongue; the euphemism in my words revealing itself only after they let my mouth, reddened my cheeks.

"Quite. That is why we have a strict non-fraternization policy amongst Team Volturi." He explained, but his enunciation left me in little doubt it was a joke to him.

I maintained a nonplussed expression. "Yes, I agree. It's of the utmost importance to remain professional."

He let out a short, sharp laugh, tilting his head. "Those rules don't apply to me though, and I thought, perhaps, you could return the favor I granted and join me for a drink this evening?"

I frantically searched for an excuse. The charm that attracted his bevy of fans had the opposite effect on me; I was as wary of him as a lamb stalked by a wolf. I settled on professionalism as an excuse. "Thank you for asking, but I feel as a member of a competing team it would be frowned upon. I'd better go. I have to set up for my session." I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it would seem sincere.

Annoyance flashed across his eyes, but it settled into a wan smile. "Of course. And I have some very important calls to make. The sponsors are clamoring for our up-and-coming wonder boys, and you have to keep them happy when they're going to be the next big thing. I really think that Team Volturi is ready for a shake up, perhaps it's time for Swan to step down." The thinly veiled threat, sent a shiver down my spine. It was becoming clear that Marco Volturi was a man who liked to play dirty.

"Have a good day," I replied, stepping around him and rushing to set up the room for Edward's session, the implications of the conversation racing around my head. By the time Edward appeared, I'd chewed by lip raw, feeling trapped by Marco's insinuation about Riley.

"You've got an hour, then I'm riding," Edward said, jumping up onto the table and lying back with his cell in front of his face. His fingers flew over the keys.

"Good Morning, Edward. How are you feeling today? Tired?" I'd added the last word, and the snark that went with it, before I could stop myself.

"Nah, I had a good nights sleep. Really, really good in fact." He glanced at me for the first time no doubt wanting to see my reaction.

"How are your legs?" I pushed the soft material of his navy blue shorts up, revealing his muscular thighs. He flexed his muscles so they rippled under his skin, and I had to try hard not to roll my eyes.

"A little stiff. My groin has taken the hardest beating. I think it's worsened since the climb yesterday. I've tried stretching, but it won't loosen up." He explained, his attention returning back to his phone.

I squirted the oil over his legs, his thighs quivering under the cold liquid, and slowly ran my hands over them, spreading it equally to facilitate my movements.

Starting slowly, I manipulated his muscles, gradually increasing the pressure with my thumbs, feeling them bunch under my touch when I hit a particular sensitive area. I'd lost myself back in thoughts of Riley and Marco when I realized he was watching me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and my hands paused in their ministrations, shocked at his unexpected question.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" I set back to work, moving down to his calves, running my thumbs deep into the sinews of his defined muscles.

"You were frowning and biting your lip," he explained, wincing as I took a particularly tough pass over his skin.

"Was I? I didn't realize." I stood up and gestured for him to flip over with a flick of my wrist.

He was clearly in a better mood today, as he obeyed and settled back down, resting his head on his arms, still watching me. It was like having a spotlight shining down on me, and I felt a flutter deep in my stomach, which I hoped was hunger for having skipped out on breakfast.

"You know, you have really pretty eyes," he said.

I laughed at him, shaking my head. "Don't talk rubbish, Edward. How does this feel?" I ran my thumb in a furrow up the back of his hamstring." I was never good at taking compliments.

"It feels good." His eyes closed as I dug deeper, gradually moving up toward his pert ass. I immediately chastised myself for thinking of it as anything other than a muscle I had to work on, but my eyes kept flicking to it, and I had an overwhelming urge to bite it.

"And it's trash," he muttered.

"What is?"

"You said rubbish. It's trash. Don't talk trash." His eyes stayed firmly shut with his lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk.

"Well that may be, but I'll stick with rubbish. And biscuits and pavements and jumpers." I started on his other leg, and he winced as I pressed over the sensitive area of his strain.

"Jumper. That doesn't even make sense. Why do you call them that?" He snorted, switching his head to the other side and cracking open one green eye so he could watch me again.

"And sweater does?" I tried to ignore his penetrating gaze, but I could feel my body heating up.

"Well it makes a hell of a lot more sense than woolly jumpers." A laugh rumbled out of his chest, and I had to smile at the sound. Seeing the laid back, playful side of Edward was a rare occurence, and I wished he'd show that side of himself more.

"It must be something to do with sheep." I shrugged, feeling my argument crumbling around me, but I wasn't going to give in that easily. He struck me as the type to argue a point to the death, and he'd met his match in me. Stubborn was my middle name.

"Sheep don't jump," he retorted.

"Yes, they do." I filled my voice with conviction, trying to remember if they did in fact jump, and my lips twisted with the laugh building at the utter ridiculousness of our conversation.

"Maybe when you're counting them jumping over fences to get to sleep." Edward quipped.

"I don't have to count sheep to get to sleep."

"Oh yeah? So what do you do then?" His eyebrow raised in question.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I teased, surprising myself with the comment. There was something about having an oil-covered Adonis flirting with me that loosened my lips.

His voice had garnered a husk when he responded and the sound shot ribbons of heat straight between my thighs. "Yes, I would definitely like to know."

I tried to ignore him, focusing on working out a tight knot and continuing to knead it even after it had gone, worried what would happen if I looked at him. I was losing my mind.

The next time he spoke his voice had returned to normal. "Can you say knickers for me." Shame his mind was still well and truly down in the gutter.

"Shut up, Edward," I admonished, refusing to fall for his obvious attempt to fluster me.

"Just say it once, and I won't ask again. It sounds so much better in your accent," he pleaded.

"Nope. Right, I've finished. Are there any other muscles that feel a little stiff. We have five minutes left." I patted his firm leg, signaling him to shift over.

"There might be," he mumbled into his arm, before turning over and sitting up. His face, all of a sudden, was directly in front of mine, and it would only have taken a small step to be between his open legs. I swallowed the urge to move.

"Say it, out loud." His green eyes glinted mischievously, and I was drawn to a flash of pink as his tongue darted out and moistened his bottom lip, and I couldn't stop myself from watching the sensual action.

I forced my eyes back up to glare at him, and lifted my chin defiantly. "Fine. How about this? Edward Cullen, you are never going to see my knickers." I narrowed my eyes, before turning and grabbing a paper towel to wipe the oil off my hands.

In a flash he was behind me; I felt the warmth from his hard chest pressed against my back. I froze as he leant down, caging me in with his arms as he placed his palms flat on the work top and whispered into my ear. His warm breath fanned across my skin. "That's because I will rip them off you so fast you'll never even miss them."

His words sent tremors to every single erogenous zone in my body, but I managed to pull myself together, stepping to the side. "Edward," I warned. "This session is over."

A crooked smile spread across his face. "The session might be over, but this isn't." He gestured between us before he left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving me standing there, a needy, wanton mess.

After spending the rest of the day reading out in the sunshine, I'd changed into a cotton sundress and headed downstairs for the evening meal. Tables were set out on the terrace in the warm night, and candles flickered in colorful glass holders creating a beautiful glow. The atmosphere was lively, the riders enjoying the brief respite. Although there was hardly any alcohol to be seen, mountains of pasta were being shoveled away to reserve energy.

I brushed my hands over my dress, smoothing the teal green material and headed to the Team Eclipse table. The raven-haired figure of Miguel Ciudad appeared by my side, placing his hand over the small of my back. The gesture was not possessive or sexual; he was the kind of man whose personality overflowed with charisma and kindness. I couldn't help but compare him to Marco; the thought of him sent a shudder skipping down my body.

"Bella, Cariño, you look beautiful this evening, and for that reason you have to sit by me." He smiled, his perfect white teeth contrasting against his tanned skin and the dusky evening light. He directed me to a table, pulling out an empty seat and performing an overzealous bow as I sat down. He was the definition of tall dark and handsome, but there was a playful side to his flirting, and I enjoyed his company.

"Thank you, Miguel. How was your day?" I took the white cotton napkin and laid it on my lap while he poured me a glass of red wine.

"All the better for seeing you." He winked, his dark eyes were framed with thick sooty lashes and a small dimple appeared every time he grinned. "We had a run out into the countryside to stretch our legs, and now I'm raring to go tomorrow. What have you been doing?'

"Not a lot. After the sessions, I read for a little while in the hotel gardens," I explained, sipping my wine; the warmth from the liquid spread through my body, relaxing me.

Miguel tapped his finger on my nose. "You caught the sun, Cariño, you have freckles dotted all along your nose."

"They tend to come out in the sun." I hadn't noticed; they'd darkened whilst doing my makeup.

"Si, but they only add to your beauty." He grinned, ripping into a chunk of crusty white bread. "Did you know that freckles are kisses from angels?"

I chuckled at him, shaking my head. "I've never heard that before."

"They are, and see here." He ran his finger along my bare arm, ticking me until I laughed. "You've been kissed all over."

I smacked his hand away, giggling. "Stop it."

He held his hands up in surrender. "I am only speaking the truth! A girl without freckles is like a night without stars."

"Alright, Casanova, your dinner's getting cold." I nudged him with my elbow, but I was secretly flattered by his attention, and my smile was wide.

I hadn't enjoyed myself like this for what seemed like weeks; the worry about the upcoming Tour, my first ever, had been weighing on my mind. It was refreshing to kick back and listen to Miguel's tales and the antics of the team.

After the waiters cleared our food away, my cheeks ached from laughing, and Miguel became involved in a heated debate with another of our cyclists. I sat back in my chair, picking up my wine glass and finished the last drop, twirling the long glass stem in my hands, lost in thought.

That was when I looked across to the next table and saw the stunningly beautiful face of Edward Cullen, shadowed by the dancing light of the candles. He was enough to steal your breath, but it wasn't his good looks that stole mine, it was the thunderous scowl that twisted his face as he glared directly at me.