SONG: Muse - Starlight

Chapter 25

Conscience

BPOV

Edward Cullen was coming to my house.

He was coming over so we could study.

Together.

And ok, I had worked with him out of school before, but this was different. This time he was coming to my house and my dad would be at work.

This meant that we would be alone together.

I was going to be alone in my house with Edward freaking Cullen.

My dad would probably have a fit if he found out about what I got up to while he was at work. He would probably stop taking late shifts so he could keep an eye on me, and then I would definitely have to kiss my social life goodbye. I mean, I was riding on a motorcycle everyday; ignoring my homework, inviting guys over, kissing a guy on the couch....

I tried not to think about kissing Jake. It was weird but I felt kind of....guilty about it now that Edward was back. I had felt the pang of guilt yesterday, as soon as I had walked over to the desk and he had looked at me, smiling that stunning crooked smile again. I had tried hard to avoid his eyes but he sat staring at me, trying to make eye contact. The pang of guilt had then evolved into an ache and I even started to feel guilty for wearing the pink hoody that I'd only worn to match Jake's spare pink helmet, as I knew he was coming to pick me up after school.

Eventually, I couldn't help turning to look at him, and the moment my eyes locked with his own sparkling hazel ones, I was transfixed.

He stared back at me, his intense gaze boring into every fibre of my essence, and although I felt my face heating up, I still couldn't look away.

I felt like I could stay engulfed in his eyes forever.

However, after a while his deep smooth voice snapped me out of my stupor when he said, "Hey" and I managed to mumble a "Hi" in response and finally tore my eyes away. I had tried not to look at him for the rest of the lesson, afraid that his eyes would capture me again.

Then he'd asked me if he could borrow my notes, and I had really wanted him to, but there was no way he would be able to decipher my chicken scratch handwriting. So I had offered to type it up for him but he refused, saying that he would borrow Jessica's notes. That had pissed me off a little. Irrational and petty as it was, I didn't want him to borrow Jessica's notes.

I wanted to be the one who helped him.

So I had asked him to come to mine without even thinking about what the hell I was saying. He seemed a little surprised when I asked him but he had said yes. Then during lunch he sat directly opposite me, and I could feel his eyes burning into me, but yet again, I evaded them.

It felt weird with Jake after school when he picked me up.

I didn't really want to even ride on his bike with him, and was thinking of making an excuse but I didn't bring my truck and Alice had already left. I had told Jake to just drop me straight home instead of riding around for a while like we usually did, and when he kissed me at the front door I didn't let the kiss last long. Then, later that evening I had called him and told him my dad had a day off work on Tuesday, so he wouldn't come over. I felt bad lying to him, but Edward was coming over and I was going to be nervous enough. I didn't want Jake making things more awkward.

I could feel all of my nerves and excitement fluttering about in my stomach. I hadn't eaten anything because of this. I mean, the last thing I wanted was to throw up on him. That would no doubt be the most mortifying thing ever. I had changed out of the clothes I wore to school, but there was no way I was going to let him see me in the old sweatpants and tattered t shirt I normally wore around the house. Instead, I had changed into my favourite loose fitting, blue jeans and a white tank top, leaving my socks on. I ran a brush through my hair a few times to try and tame it a little. I thought about tying it back but quickly changed my mind, I would probably need it to hide behind if I was going to be anywhere near Edward.

I had also applied a little more mascara and lip-gloss.

I walked around the house afterwards, restless and anxious and checking every room to make sure the house was tidy, which was silly because he wasn't even going to see every room. He said he would be over at five thirty and my eyes were darting, involuntarily, over to the clock every few minutes. I paced the living room, my heart pounding at a record pace and my stomach twisting, and I began wondering what the hell had possessed my to invite him over in the first place.

The clock seemed frozen as it inched slowly towards five thirty.

It was ten past five when I heard a small knock on the door. I froze momentarily, wondering who it could be. It couldn't be Edward so soon could it? I mean, it was still kind of early. I made my way over to the front door and hesitantly opened it.

And my heart must have flipped in my chest as I saw Edward standing there.

He had also changed from what he wore to school. He was now wearing black sweatpants and sneakers and a pale blue hoody; his bronze hair adorably more tousled than usual, as he smiled that crooked smile at me.

I couldn't help smiling back, my face flaming as usual.

"Hey." He said, still smiling, "I'm a little early, is that ok with you?"

"Um, yeah it's fine." I replied.

I stood there, absorbed into his gaze once again.

"So..." he said after a while, "are you going to let me in or should I wait out here until it's actually five thirty?"

He was smirking now, one eyebrow slightly raised – yet still holding my gaze with his.

And still I stood in the doorway just staring at him like an idiot. What the hell was wrong with me? He would think I was a total nut job if I kept this up.

After a while, he looked a little confused, his brow furrowing as he asked,

"Are you ok?"

And that finally snapped me out of my daze.

I blushed furiously, transferring my gaze to my feet and mumbled,

"Yeah, I'm sorry, come in."

I stepped back to let him in. As he walked through the front door and brushed passed me, I was almost left weak kneed as his fragrance wafted into my nose. I inhaled deeply, almost sighing as the fragrance intoxicated me.

"What is that?" I found myself asking.

He turned to me, looking puzzled. "What is what?" he asked.

"That....scent you always smell of. It smells really good, I mean, really nice."

His face turned a subtle shade of pink.

Did he just blush? Did Edward Cullen just blush?

"Thanks." He said, running his hand through his hair, "It's a cologne; my, err, dad got it from Dubai."

I nodded and led him into the kitchen.

"Your house is nice." He said as we sat down at the table.

"Thanks."

"Is your dad at work?" he asked – a little expectantly.

"Yeah, he's finishing at ten tonight." I replied, "Can I get you a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm ok for now."

I opened up the text book and started showing him the notes that we needed to copy down. He was sitting opposite me and I had to lean over slightly to show him the sections. But our kitchen table was small so I ended up being only a few inches from his face. I looked up from the text book to find his startling eyes on me – only this time, he wasn't looking into my eyes. His eyes were looking a little further down my face.

Was he looking at my lips?

He quickly averted his gaze when I looked up and I flushed, looking at the table so my hair could form a curtain over my face.

He was looking at my lips.

"Your hair smells really good." He commented.

"Thanks." I said, still looking at the table.

He started taking notes from the textbook then, and I started doing my French homework. We didn't speak for about half an hour then suddenly he said softly,

"Bella?"

"I glanced up at him through my lashes.

"Yes?"

He was also looking up through his lashes, a lock of bronze hanging down his forehead. He was silent for a moment, looking at me, then he shook his head and said,

"Uh, never mind." And looked down at his work again.

Weird.

As the time passed, I wondered if Edward was getting hungry. I wasn't hungry at all, I mean, how could I be after I just caught him staring at my lips.

"Edward?" I said.

He looked up at me.

"Are you hungry?"

He pursed his full red lips, seeming like he was thinking about it.

"A little." He said afterwards.

"Well, I could cook something up if you'd like?"

"Sure. Thanks."

I got up to start getting out all the cooking equipment and he stood up with me. I looked at him, puzzled, and he grinned at me.

"Wanted to take a break from the work so I thought I'd help you out."

"Edward, it's ok, I don't really need help –"

"I want to." He cut in, "I mean, I can't just sit there and watch you cook. What do you want me to do? I can chop onions or something."

I couldn't help smiling.

"Ok. You chop the onions then."

He nodded; then started removing his hoody – and my jaw dropped open. Because as he pulled off the hoody, the black t shirt he was wearing underneath rode up a little, revealing his stomach.

Revealing his hard toned stomach, with that sexy line of hair starting from underneath his bellybutton and disappearing down into his pants.

I quickly started fiddling about with the pans, trying to distract myself from thoughts of that sexy trail of hair and where it led to....

"How do you like them?"

I turned to him, startled.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

He grinned, "The onions. How do you want me to chop them? Diced? Sliced? Thick? Thin?"

"Err, I don't really mind, just do them whichever way you can."

"Well, I can do them anyway really, I mean, I've been cooking since I was thirteen."

I turned to him, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah." An odd look came over his face, "I err, had to learn, coz, well, my mom couldn't always cook, you know, she, she didn't always feel up to it." He stammered, his eyebrows slightly facing downwards.

"Oh, right." I said.

I mean, it obviously had something to do with his mom and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. It made me really curious about what was wrong with her though. He was silent for a while as he expertly diced the onions, and I couldn't help glancing at his muscular arms as he did it.

The way the biceps bulged as he gripped the knife....

"Shit, my eyes are burning." He said.

I looked up at his face to see him squinting, his eyes watery, and I couldn't help laughing. He looked so sweet.

"Hey, it's not funny." He said, grinning, "Why did I offer to do them again?"

"Your fault." I said, "I told you I didn't need help but you insisted."

He was rubbing his eyes with his arms now, and I started to feel bad for him. I moved closer to him.

"Edward. Leave that. Go open the window and stick your head out. The fresh air will help stop the burning. It usually works for me."

I took the knife out of his hand and he walked over to the window, still squinting, opened it and leaned out.

He had chopped enough onions for the chicken stew already anyway, so I started frying them in the pan, adding the other ingredients as well.

I felt a presence behind me, and turned to find Edward standing there, really close to me, watching over my shoulder as I stirred.

I blushed and he must have somehow noticed my blush because he moved away to my side instead and said,

"Oh sorry, I'm probably distracting you right; I know how annoying it is to have someone watching over your shoulder while you cook."

And it was true, usually when my dad did it; it annoyed the heck out of me. But when it was Edward, I wanted him to stay standing behind me.

I finished cooking and we ate in the living room. I was beginning to feel a strange sense of de JA vu. It all seemed so similar to when Jake had come over on Saturday. Edward also insisted to wash up the plates after we had eaten, though I followed him into the kitchen and told him I'd wipe the dishes if he was going to wash them. We worked together, washing and wiping the dishes. It felt so right, you know, so comfortable. Edward and I were standing really close together, our arms kept bumping as we worked and my pulse was thudding away the whole time.

After we finished doing the dishes, Edward turned to look at me. He looked like he was about to say something and then stopped and grinned at me.

"You've err, got a little soap on your nose."

He reached out and gently wiped my nose with his finger, staring at me again. I noticed that his eyes occasionally left mine for a split second, darting down to my lips.

My whole body felt heated now, from his gentle touch and his piercing gaze.

He took a deep breath.

"Bella?" He said softly.

"Yeah." I said, still staring back at him, occasionally darting my eyes to his lips too.

"Can I take you out sometime?"

As if I was going to say no.

"ok."

He opened his mouth to say something; then seemed to change his mind. Then hesitantly he said,

"What about....that guy? I mean, are you....dating him?"

My mind struggled to comprehend what he was talking about at that minute as his hazel eyes mesmerized me. I was blank for a moment and then I realised what guy he was talking about. Jacob.

Shit.

"Well..." was I dating Jake? I mean, the whole school thought I was and I didn't bother correcting them.

"Jake and I, were really good friends."

He frowned. "That didn't answer my question."

I sighed.

"Edward, I don't know, it's kind of complicated."

"What's so complicated about it?" he said, his voice a lot less soft than before, "Are you dating him or not? Seems like a simple question to me."

"Well, we go out to places and stuff, but –"

"Then you're dating." He cut in.

"No, not really, I mean, we just...hang out."

He wasn't looking at me now; he was scowling at the wall behind me.

"Well...after you 'hang out' does he...kiss you?"

I was getting pissed off now, what the fuck did what I did with Jake have to do with him?

"That's none of your business Edward. Why the hell do you want to know anyway?"

His jaw clenched.

"Because I don't want to take you out if you're already dating some other guy."

Ok, I was mad now. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Well, you know what? Don't fucking bother taking me out then, coz I don't want to go out with a nosy asshole like you."

He looked taken aback, his mouth opened slightly.

"Ok. Whatever."

He moved over to the table and started picking up his notes and his hoody.

"Thanks for helping me with the notes. And for dinner." He said icily.

"You're welcome." I replied tersely.

He glared at me for a moment before swiftly walking out and slamming the door. A moment later I heard his car start up and he sped away.

What a fucking ass, I thought to myself. Why did he want to know so much about me and Jake? It was none of his goddamn business what Jake and I did. I wasn't dating Jake, and I wasn't dating him either and I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Then why did I feel so guilty?

Author's Note:

Hey guys, thanks for reading. Can I get a little more feedback? I'm so pleased that there's a lot of people reading my story. But I would be even more pleased if I got a few responses telling me what you thought of it. Please?

Thanks

Savannah-Vee