~SIN 8~
Bella leaves Ben at the table with his fish sticks and macaroni and cheese to answer her buzzing cell.
"Hi, Edward."
"Hey. How's Angela?"
"She's pretty ragged. Finally fell asleep about an hour ago."
"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Edward, we really need to talk."
Dead silence. Bella pulls her hand through her hair and pinches her eyes closed, concentrating on any clues his voice might give away. So far, all she's getting is avoidance.
"Bella…you said you owe me, right?"
"Yes," she answers eagerly.
"If it's okay with you…" His voice falls off and he chuckles. "I can't believe how hard this is, after…everything."
Bella barely breathes. "Just say it, Edward."
"Okay. I have been taking Fridays off, and I wondered if I might take you out on a date."
A sudden wave of joy sweeps her up, but just as quickly, Emmett's words bring her crashing to the rocky shore. You're dangerous for him. "Out in public?" she asks.
"Yes—more or less." She hears the playful grin in his voice and feels her own lips edging up.
"What's that mean?"
"I'd really like to surprise you, if that's acceptable."
"Sounds fun. You'll tell me what to wear for this mysterious adventure?"
Borrowing Bella's strategy, Edward answers, "I'll call you an hour before and give you the details."
"Sounds delightful."
It continues to sound delightful, right up until eight o'clock Friday morning. It wasn't that he woke her; not only were the kids up, dressed, fed, and loaded onto the school bus, but she hadn't slept a wink since snippets of their last play session made their way into her subconscious and forced her awake at 5:30 with a pit in her belly.
"Good morning, Ms. Swan."
"Judge."
"Are you ready for your instructions?"
A shiver goes up her spine as he twists all her own phrasing. "Ready."
"Okay. Put on your sexiest bikini—"
She hears a garbled drone of words after that.
"Bella? Still there?" She must've missed a cue.
"Edward, I…don't own a bikini."
"Really? What a waste. Fine, then your sexiest one-piece."
It shatters her to burst his bubble. "I don't do water sports, Edward."
"Yes, I recall from our checklist discussion," he jokes. Missing the rising panic in her voice, he forges on, "I promise, all that will be required of you is relaxing on deck and looking beautiful. I'll handle the rest."
On deck? Her mouth goes dry as the imagery taunts her. Sexy, nearly naked Edward smoothly gliding the two of them alone together across the open sea. Entirely surrounded by deep, blue death.
With no choice but exposure, she says the words out loud that make her hot with shame. "I can't swim."
"Oh." Silence. "We'll talk about this when I pick you up. See you in a bit."
The next forty-five minutes are agony for her, not being one who suffers weakness well, especially in herself. By the time Edward rings her doorbell, Bella is a hot mess of nerves.
"Good morning," he greets, looking unfairly delicious in red swim trunks and dark sunglasses, his golden hair glimmering with brassy highlights in the bright sun. So lost is Bella in Edward's crooked smile, it takes her several moments to register his grey t-shirt for what it is—a lifeguard shirt with the familiar red cross symbol. Sure enough, the matching logo on his trunks mocks her terrified guts.
"I'm not sure about that," she answers, and he responds by giving her a chaste peck on the cheek.
"Our chariot awaits." Edward gestures to the shiny silver Volvo convertible idling in her driveway. He's not planning on taking no for an answer.
"Edward…" She can't complete the sentence without utterly humiliating herself. She's sure he'll never look at her the same way once he realizes what a coward she is. This accidental adventure threatens to ruin everything. "I don't have a suit."
"I've taken care of that," he responds, tugging her close to his body. "What else?"
His question is a caress of smooth velvet, not meant as a challenge, simply an acknowledgment that there are more hoops to clear.
Deep breath, Bella. "At the risk of repeating the obvious...I don't know how to swim."
Nonplussed, he flutters his fingers over her knuckles until her inner monologue dies down. "Yeah, I got that," he responds, not a trace of sarcasm detectable in his voice. "That's why I'm going to teach you."
Her eyes dart to the ceiling, the floor, that logo on his bathing suit. Her voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "I'm terrified of the water."
Edward wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight against his chest, but if she thinks he's going to coddle her, she'd be wrong.
"Lucky for you, I'm a great teacher. And let's not forget, you owe me," he reminds her with that same kind, steady voice, and now she knows for sure—this is a done deal.
"You're really cashing in your favor to teach me how to swim?"
He smiles brightly. "Nothing would make me happier."
"You're a strange man, Edward Cullen."
"Thanks for noticing."
Once they're both settled in his car, he reaches across to grasp her hand and pulls it into his lap, seemingly failing to notice the tremor and clamminess. She's unaware that the car has stopped moving until he's at her door coaxing her out with an extended hand and a warm smile.
"Come on, Bella. I don't bite."
She huffs at the irony, remembering the harsh slap of the belt against his warm skin, then notices the shopping bag in his other hand.
"What's that?"
"A bathing suit."
She can't help but smile, picturing him shopping for her. "How'd you know what size to get?"
"I had no clue. I bought it in four sizes."
"You are really too much; you know that?"
"Quit stalling, Swan."
Reluctantly, Bella lets him lead her into the YMCA building.
"Juuuuudge!" Edward braces himself as a broad, dark-skinned woman with tight dark curls hops out of her seat and practically jumps over the check-in desk to wrap him in a crushing hug. "You know how we miss that lily-white ass when you gone so long!"
"Lovely to see you, too, Shondra," he laughs.
Her eyes shift from their still-joined hands and back to Edward, waiting to be filled in. "Keeping your nose clean?"
Edward turns to Bella and his eyes crinkle with secrets. "Mostly," he answers. "My friend Bella needs a locker please."
"Sure thing, honey." Shondra passes Bella a key and a towel.
Edward takes Bella by the elbow and draws her to the ladies' locker room.
"They kind of love you here," she comments.
He waves off the compliment. "Okay, Bella. You've got exactly eight minutes to change and meet me by the pool, or I'm sending Shondra in after you."
"That won't be necessary," she shivers.
True to her promise, Bella—in the size four red-and-white-striped two-piece—exits the locker room well within the allotted time and walks anxiously toward the man waiting for her in the shallow end of the pool. God, he's gorgeous, she appreciates anew, and now it all makes sense: the sculpted shoulders, the broad chest, the carved abs and narrow waist—the body of a swimmer. Despite her fear, she can't help but imagine his graceful body cutting through the water. Maybe he'll swim for her later as a reward for risking her life for him.
"I see I made an excellent choice," he gloats, and Bella's not sure if he means the suit or her, but either way the compliment draws goose bumps and makes her nipples stand on end. He glides over to the wall and pats the tiled ledge. "Have a seat."
She can't resist him, though her hand trembles as she reaches for the tiles. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Yes." He places his hands on her hips, his thumbs teasing at her belly. "I've taught hundreds of kids to swim right here in this pool."
"I'm not a kid," she counters.
His hot gaze meets the mounds of flesh at eye-level. "I am aware," he rasps. "Put your hands on my shoulders and try to relax. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Leaning forward to comply, she makes the mistake of looking down into the water. Her heart races with the certainty of imminent death, her breathing accelerates, and she falters and flails. Edward pulls her into his chest, tucking her head against his warm body. She finds his shoulders and clutches him in a death grip, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her heels together behind his back.
"It's okay, Bella," he soothes. "Feel my hands? I've got you, and I'm not letting go."
His voice is warm and soothing in her ear, and she concentrates on his hands, firm and competent at her back. Her ragged breathing smoothes; she closes her arms around his neck.
"That's it, Bella. That's so good. Now just close your eyes." He bobs the two of them gently, getting her used to the feel of the water. "You still breathing?" he murmurs.
"Barely," she whispers back, and his chest shakes with laughter against her body.
"You're doing great."
"I'm not doing anything."
"That's exactly what you need to do right now. Just hold on to me and trust."
Bella scoffs,"Easier said than done."
Edward places a soft kiss on her cheek. "Am I that awful to hold onto?"
She sighs and shakes her head into his neck. "I'm not used to trusting people—especially men."
"Don't trust men, Bella. Just trust me."
A/N: Sigh. Not what Bella was expecting, but then again...could that be a good thing? Can this man teach her how to trust again? Thank you all for your enthusiasm for the story. I know the last chapter was a rough place to leave our friends, so this time, I've left them wet and snuggled together and trusting. Nom nom nom.
This seems like a good time to thank my sweet team again for all the behind-the-scenes conversations that helped mold this story into what you see here. Prereaders/plot coaches/confidantes/angel and devil on my shoulder (and I'm not telling who's who) Alterite and Shell Shock and beta-plus-so-much-more Chayasara-thank you all so much.
If you're interested in sharing your thoughts with others reading this story or any of the other madness I call my writing, please come and join us on FB in Born's Pumpkin Patch. It's a safe, friendly place to play!
xxx ~B