Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. The original plot and storyline of Never Enough, however, belong to me, so please be nice and don't copy or translate without permission. Thank you.
My undying love and grattitude to Cullen_Crazy01 and iadorepugs for their support, assistance and song searching skills. CC knows how much trouble I had with this one - thanks for being my sounding block, and for giving me such great encouragement!
Early update this week, as I will be gone quite a bit this New Moon DVD weekend! I hope you enjoy, and stick with me - more at the bottom!!
Chapter 8
Maria's was even more crowded tonight than it had been the last time I had been here. The patrons seemed younger as well, and I wondered if the new band advertised on the posters was the reason. I scoured the sea of faces anxiously, wondering if we were going to be able to find a place to sit.
I spotted a frantically waving hand from near the stage and laughed when I saw Alice, her head above the masses as she stood on a chair at the table we sat at last time. As I made my way through the throng, I saw that the table, which had been crowded when we had six people, would be downright cozy with eight chairs surrounding it.
"Bella!" Rosalie cried, sweeping me up in a hug. "Emmett told us the news, congratulations!" I accepted her hug gratefully, knowing I wouldn't have been in this position without her help and support
Alice was next. "Bella, you look great!" she told me with a wink, fluffing my hair. I smoothed the cranberry red sweater over my hips self-consciously, somewhat uncomfortable with the form fitting band that hugged my hips and rear end. Years of working at the garage had left me at a distinct fashion disadvantage, and I only had so much to choose from. I wore the same jeans I had worn before, and borrowed some jewelry and black ankle boots from Sarah's room to complete the look. What the teen didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"Thanks, Alice," I said with a smile. "You know, Angela and I need to talk to you about the store. We loved everything we saw today, especially your contributions."
"She is brilliant, isn't she?" Jasper asked, coming up behind Alice and sliding his arms around her waist. I found it comical that he was still taller, even with Alice standing on the chair.
"That's right, give all the credit to the designer, none to the architect," a warm, husky voice teased close to my ear, and I shivered involuntarily.
"Oh Edward, we all know you're brilliant," Alice said, rolling her eyes. She winked and smiled at him, softening the sarcasm as she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "You think he's brilliant, right Bella?" she asked, looping one arm around Edward's shoulder, the other around mine.
"Of course, Alice," I answered. "Anyone who could put onto paper exactly what I pictured in my head for the bookstore is a genius."
"I second that!" Angela exclaimed, rushing forward and bumping into me, pushing me into Edward. His arms automatically slid around my wait to steady me, pulling me closer. His hands were sprawled across my back, and I could feel the warmth of his fingertips through my sweater. I resisted the urge to press closer to him, barely.
"Are you okay, Bella?" he asked, his crooked smile making my heart flutter.
"Much better now," I said without thinking, and I felt my eyes go wide as my filter shut off. "I mean, thanks for grabbing me, I mean...well, shit," I trailed off as he laughed, and his fingers squeezed my waist gently before he released me and pulled the chair out for me. I sank into my seat gratefully, feeling the burn of the blush on my cheeks.
Edward took the chair next to mine, and he apologized when our knees bumped as he arranged his long legs under the closely packed table. I tucked my feet beneath my chair, fighting the urge to slide my leg against his. Angela sat on my other side, with Rosalie and Alice across the table. The same pretty blonde waitress from before appeared at the table to take our drink orders, and her flirtatious smile in Edward's direction made me want to grind my teeth.
When all the drinks had been distributed around the table, Edward tapped on the side of his pilsner to get everyone's attention. "I want to propose a toast. To Bella, Angela and Ben – congratulations on your new business venture. And thank you for including us. CWC couldn't be happier to be working with you."
"Well said, brother," Emmett said, tapping the neck of his beer bottle against Edward's glass, then making the rounds. I touched the rim of my wine glass to everyone's drink, touching Edward's last, and he watched me over the rim of his as he took a sip. My fingers trembled as I set my wineglass back on the table.
"So Bella, what are you going to call the bookstore?" Alice asked as conversation started up again after Edward's thoughtful toast.
Angela turned to look at me, her expression mirroring the confusion I felt at the question. "Bella?" Angela asked. "How is it we haven't discussed a name?"
Rosalie laughed. "Seriously? I mean, you've got an attorney, an accountant, an interior designer, and an architect. You've researched every regulation in the state of Washington, and Angela here even has a menu. But you don't have a name?"
Angela's laugh echoed Rosalie. "I've always just called it 'The Café' in my head. I honestly never expected it to leave my thoughts until Bella and I started talking this week."
All eyes returned to me, and I felt a blush heat my cheeks at the scrutiny. "Same for me," I confessed, shrugging my shoulders. "Until Edward asked the question, I didn't even remember that I'd once had the idea for a bookstore." I gestured around the table. "But without the prompt, and the encouragement from all of you, I never would have seriously considered the possibility." I was the one that raised my glass in toast this time. "So thank you, all of you, for urging me to turn a new page in my life."
Edward paused, his glass half raised. "A new page?" he asked, a speculative gleam in his eye.
I saw Alice lean forward in her chair, and Angela and Ben exchanged a look. "A New Page," Angela repeated thoughtfully. Rosalie nodded, her smile widening. "Bella, that's perfect!" Angela squealed, and there were enthusiastic nods all around the table.
The conversation became more animated than ever. Emmett waved the waitress over for another celebratory round, and everyone raised their glasses to A New Page.
I caught Edward's eye as we tapped our glasses together, and mouthed "Thank you!" to him.
His smile was dazzling, and he winked at me as he mouthed, "You're welcome."
Edward took another drink of his beer, content to follow the conversation at the table rather than participate. His smile was easy, his eyes clear and warm as he stole occasional glances, which I caught because to be honest, I was having a hard time looking away myself. He was wearing the same black v-necked sweater he had at the meeting, but had replaced the dress shirt with a charcoal colored tee shirt that exposed a light smattering of chest hair where the vee dipped, and I wanted to run my fingers along the exposed line of skin even more now. He had changed into a pair of black jeans and Nikes, the "swoosh" a bright dash against the darkness of his outfit. His hair was the same messy riot of curls standing on end that made my fingers itch to comb through it. I couldn't blame the waitress for her flirtation – I wanted nothing more than to be bold enough to capture his attention.
I was shocked at the turn of my thoughts. I wanted his attention? Duh! My inner voice mocked me, and I realized it was true. I wanted Edward. Finally! Now what are we going to do about it?
I had no idea. I had met Jacob when we were both seventeen years old. He was my first date, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first everything. Until a few years ago, I had assumed he would be my last everything as well. It had been almost seventeen years – almost half my life – since I had been single. My fifteen year-old daughter knew more about dating than I did. Heck, my thirteen year-old son probably did, too.
In the close quarters of the table, Edward's knee bumped mine once again, and I felt the warmth of the contact, breaking me from the reverie of my thoughts. I was turned slightly in his direction, and saw him look at me out of the corner of his eye. He left his leg to rest against mine, gauging my reaction. My two glasses of wine had emboldened me, and I smiled in return, letting my knee press back slightly. His crooked grin flashed, and he left his leg where it was, our thighs now comfortably resting against one another's.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he dropped his left hand casually to his leg, his long fingers spread over the thigh that was touching mine beneath the table. I was aware of his every movement as his fingers leisurely smoothed the denim on his leg down to his knee.
My muscles tensed in anticipation as Edward's fingers flexed, moving minutely toward my knee, which I realized was pressed even more tightly against his. Because the table is so crowded, I assured myself.
Yeah, you keep thinking that, responded my inner voice, which was preparing to squeal like a school girl when his pinky finger made deliberately casual contact with my own denim-clad thigh. I felt a rush of warmth….everywhere…as his ring finger joined the party, stroking my leg so softly that I might have missed it had I not been watching. I looked over at him to find him studying my face, and he grinned as I blushed, smiled, and looked away.
Edward slid his hand so that all four of his fingers were now touching my thigh, but when his thumb and palm made contact with my leg, he jerked away. Startled, I looked up, and the fingers that had been touching me were now pulling his cell phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.
He saw me staring, and smiled apologetically as he checked his phone. A sudden frown marred the perfection of his features. I watched as he flipped the phone open to the full display, his eyes growing wide as he studied the screen. Edward snapped the phone shut and pushed his chair back from the table in a fluid movement, breaking our tenuous physical connection. The abrupt action caught the attention of those around the table, and six other sets of eyes watched him with the same curiosity I did.
Edward's eyes flashed to me for a moment, then he addressed the entire table. "I'm sorry, but I need to make a phone call. Please excuse me." He rose, already dialing his phone as he walked away from the table without a backward glance.
As aware as I was of Edward's presence at the table, I felt his absence even more acutely. No one else seemed concerned about it, but when I sneaked a few glances at my watch, I noted with concern that he had been gone for over twenty minutes. Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie were discussing the elections to be held next week, while Angela, Ben and Alice debated the practicality and aesthetics of various counter top materials for the cafe. They occasionally asked my opinion, which I offered half-heartedly as I continued to watch the door for Edward's return.
My surveillance was rewarded when he reappeared five minutes later. I could tell immediately that his telephone conversation had not gone well. His hair was standing on end, as though he had been running his fingers through it violently. His eyes were distracted, his posture tense as he approached the table. He grabbed his beer and took a swallow, settling into his chair, keeping his legs to himself. My inner voice pouted, even as I worried about the drastic change in his mood. I wanted to ask, but something in his demeanor made the question dry up before it found verbalization.
Peter rushed over to the table, his eyes wild. "Edward! Where the hell have you been, man? The band goes on in twenty minutes! If you want to go on tonight, get your ass up on the stage."
Edward started to wave Peter off, and a chorus of boos sounded around the table. "C'mon, Edward!" Jasper said. "Why do you think we're here? Get up there, man!"
"Hell yeah!" Emmett said, slapping Edward's back. Was I the only one who noticed the tightness of his eyes, the rigid set of his jaw? He looked over at me, and I knew he could see the question plainly on my face, my fingers stretched almost involuntarily toward his arm, wanting to comfort. He swallowed convulsively, his eyes following the movement of my hand, then he looked away quickly. His expression changed, smoothed as he rose reluctantly from his chair. He smiled as he looked around the table, but I could see that the smile did not reach his eyes.
"All right, I'll sing," Edward responded, his voice tense as his fingers combed through his hair, tugging slightly. We didn't know each other well enough, and even though I had no right to feel this way, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to call him back to the table, to tell him to sit down and tell me what was wrong.
A smattering of applause followed his progress to the stage as the regular patrons recognized him. He picked up the acoustic guitar propped against the stool and took his seat, just outside the spotlight. I felt an eerie feeling of déjà vu wash over me as he bent his head over his guitar.
Unlike the last time I had watched him up on the stage, he seemed distracted, bothered. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The pained expression on his face made my stomach lurch. I wished I could reach out and ease the tension that created the furrow between his eyebrows. His eyes snapped open abruptly and his jaw flexed. He didn't look out over the crowd, didn't look in the direction of our table at all. He played a few loud chords, the discordant sound harsh in the quieting atmosphere of the bar.
"What the hell's wrong with Edward?" I heard Rosalie hiss at Emmett. I glanced in their direction and saw Emmett shrug his shoulders, the worried expression in his eyes belying his nonchalance.
I turned my attention back to the stage as Edward cleared his throat and adjusted the microphone. His voice was soft, slightly gruff. "This one is called 'Dreaming With A Broken Heart.'" The melody was softer than the chords he had been playing, and I was once again drawn in by both the sight and sound of Edward under the spotlight.
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…
His voice was rough, and the lyrics so poignant that I felt tears well in my eyes. Last time I had heard him sing, it had been an intensely personal experience for me. I had felt he was singing to me, singing about hope, telling me that things would be all right, that they could be all right again. I had been flooded with emotion at not just the words, but the depth with which he sang them. He had conveyed such feeling to me, the emotions were so intense, that I'd had to leave the table to get a grip on them.
The emotion this time was all his. There was sadness, pain, and anger. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine as they had the last time. He held my gaze for a moment as he strummed the bridge, then looked away when the next stanza started. His voice took on a desperate edge with the next few lines, and I could feel the raw emotion coming off of him in waves.
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with your crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…
This time, watching him sing with his head bowed, his eyes downcast, his voice so full of emotion, I recognized his anguish, rather than focusing on my own. He had been hurt, he had suffered… he was still suffering. What had Rosalie said to me? 'I know neither one of you is in the market or ready for a relationship.' Where I had been so sure of what I wanted only a short time ago, his distress now sparked my own.
I was lost in these thoughts when the song ended, and joined in the applause belatedly. Edward didn't notice – he was turned away from our table, his smile for the crowd a weary one. He made his way slowly back to the table, stopping to speak with several people. On his way, he accepted a fresh beer from our waitress, and I watched as he drank almost half of it in one long, continuous swallow.
Rosalie studied him critically as he took his seat again, her eyebrow arched. When he didn't look her way, she spoke up. "Wow, Edward, what a cheerful song for you to sing. Just right for a celebration!" she said loudly, her sarcasm biting.
"Thanks, Rose," Edward said evenly, taking another sip of his beer as he settled into the seat beside me once again.
"I guess I know who was on the phone earlier without even having to ask, don't I?" Rosalie asked, her voice as venomous as I had ever heard it. "Edward, why do you still let…"
Edward cut her off, his voice low and forceful. "Rose, butt out!" Emmett sat forward, the look on his face dangerous as Edward had words with his wife. "Emmett, please tell your wife to mind her own business," Edward growled, putting the pilsner to his lips again and draining the remainder.
Rosalie opened her mouth to protest, and Edward shot her a look that I could only categorize as beseeching. "Rosalie, please. Not tonight."
Rose pursed her lips for a moment, her eyes narrowed, then nodded her head once. I had seen that look before. Hell, I had received that look before. Rosalie was the consummate mama bear, and one of her cubs was in danger. She was as protective of Edward now as she had been of me during my divorce.
Edward waved the waitress over and placed an order for a coke. I switched my order to soda as well, knowing that I would be making my escape soon. I needed some time to reflect on the evening and the mass of confusion that was filling my head, for his withdrawal had created many conflicting emotions within me.
I was disappointed. I had never been so instantly attracted to someone before. I had never even really fantasized about another man while married to Jacob. Sure, I'd had my share of celebrity crushes – including a rather age-inappropriate one on the young man that played Cedric Diggory in the Harry Potter movies – but in real life, Jacob had been it for me.
I was worried. Edward was a genuinely nice person, and whatever was causing him hurt made me ache in sympathy. I had been through enough heartbreak during years leading to the death of my marriage that I could certainly empathize with anyone in such emotional turmoil.
I felt guilty. I had focused only on my physical attraction to Edward, not even considering or remembering Rosalie's statement that he had issues of his own.
The emotion that made me the most angry with myself was relief. For all my wine-induced bravado, I was scared to take that next step, that first step towards something new, something more. I needed to look at the timing of his phone call as nothing less than providential. Even though I had been split from Jacob for much longer than the recent date of my divorce suggested, and even though the split had been a mutual decision, my conflict reminded me that I still needed time to find myself before I jumped into another "us."
Alice turned to me, her smile bright as she tried to interject the spirit of celebration back into our lagging group. "Bella, do you have any plans tomorrow? Cancel them," she said, before I could even answer the question. "We're going to Seattle!"
"What's in Seattle?" I asked.
"Seattle's only the coffee shop headquarters of the world, and there are about a hundred bookstores. We're going on a research trip! You, me, Angela and Rosalie – we're going to hit as many bookstores and coffee shops as possible. We're going to take pictures, make notes, and create lists of our likes and dislikes before we finalize the plans." Her speech got faster and faster as she became more animated, and I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.
"But Alice, I love the plans the way they are," I protested, shooting a quick sideways glance at Edward.
He smiled reassuringly. "Bella, it's a great idea. Maybe you'll come home with some great plans to tweak the floor plan, or maybe Angela will see some fabulous café layout that knocks her socks off. We've still got a while before we can get started on the construction, so it's good to see what the competition looks like. It's a good plan, Alice," he complimented, and she beamed.
"Come on, Bella – it will be a blast!" Angela wheedled, not that I really needed much convincing. Knowing I was facing the empty house again this weekend, the decision was not a difficult one to make.
"All right, I'm in. What time do we get started?" I asked gamely, groaning when Alice named a ridiculously early hour. "If that's the case, I need to get home and get some sleep. It's been a long, busy week, and I need some rest if I'm going to keep up with you tomorrow!" I teased.
Edward stood and reached for the jacket draped over the back of my chair. "May I walk you to your car, Bella?" he asked.
I nodded mutely, my heart racing at the thought of being alone with him, despite… or maybe because… of all that transpired this evening. I said my goodbyes, hugging Alice, Angela and Rosalie. I accepted a bone-crushing squeeze from Emmett. Jasper laughed as I gasped, trying to catch my breath, and he pecked my cheek, as did Ben.
I was surprised when Edward said his own goodbyes to his family and friends. He donned his jacket and placed the knit beanie on his head, once again tucking away the glorious curls that still called brazenly to my fingers. He led me through the packed crowd which had surged in for the band's performance, his hand warm on the small of back even through my coat.
The quiet outside Maria's was welcome, as was the cool, fresh air that I inhaled deeply, trying to settle my nerves. Edward walked silently at my side as we walked across the semi-dark parking lot to the spot where my car was parked. I could hear the muffled sound from the electric guitars from inside the bar, and was glad to be leaving, no longer in the mood for the loud music. I stopped at my driver's door, and turned to look up at him.
He stood with his hands jammed in his jean pockets, his shoulders hunched, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. His expression was troubled, and I could actually feel his discomfort between us. "Edward?" I asked softly, a feeling of relief washing through me when he finally met my gaze.
He sighed heavily, removing one hand from his pocket, reflexively reaching to run his fingers through his hair before remembering the beanie he had placed on his head. He dropped his hand awkwardly by his side. "Bella, I owe you an explanation for my behavior tonight."
I shook my head. "No, Edward you don't," I assured him.
"I really wanted this evening to go differently. Earlier, at the table I … but then my phone … and going up on stage was such a bad idea," he mumbled, his agitation obvious in his fractured monologue as he shifted from foot to foot.
I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm, and he stilled under my touch. I could see he was anxious as he spoke again. "This was not what I had pictured when I imagined walking you to your car tonight."
I'd had a different picture in my mind of the evening's progression as well, before his phone call. His palm on my knee, resting there until I slid my hand down to gently touch his. Our fingers intertwined beneath the tabletop and away from the notice of our friends, his fingertips playing with mine. His arm around my waist, staving off the chill of the night air as he walked me to my car. His callused fingertips on my face, in my hair, tilting my face up to his as our lips met. His kiss, warm, soft, urgent, our bodies gravitating towards one another...
I forcibly shoved the thoughts from my mind. "Edward, it's okay, really. I think we both got a little carried away this evening, it's hard not to when you're a single person surrounded by a group of nothing but perfect soul mates. But I don't want things to be awkward between us. We're going to be working together, and I'd like to think that we're going to be friends, as well. So let's put it behind us and move forward from here, okay?"
The emotions that flickered across his face were as varied as my own had been. He looked upset, embarrassed, wistful, and relieved, much as I had felt. "I'd like that, Bella. Thank you," he said softly, reaching up with his free hand and brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. He hesitated for a brief moment, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to that same cheek, his lips soft and chilled in the night air. "You'd better get in your car, it's getting cold. Have fun in Seattle tomorrow. Don't let Alice wear you out too badly."
I forced a laugh from my throat, desperate to inject some lightness into the tense situation. "Oh seriously, how bad could a day with Alice really be?"
So do you hate me? Please, PLEASE let me know your thoughts - I really need your feedback now more than ever! It's been a sucky week in RL - I could really use some love, and I'm not adverse to begging :)
And if you want to read something fluffy and fun with a good dose of lemonade, please check out Love Delivers, a one-shot that Cullen_Crazy01 and I collaborated on, and that iadorepugs so graciously betaed for us It's a long one - 10,000+ words. http : // www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net /s/ 5824798 /1/ Love Delivers (replacing the (dots) and spaces of course - or check my favorite stories for the link). We'd love to know what you think of Deliveryward!
Thanks for reading - enjoy drooling over your DVDs this weekend, ladies!