"I'm beat," Edward groans loudly, and reclines back against the couch.
"Me, too, you slave driver," Leah complains, leaning over to pick the olives off the last slice of pizza, and takes a large bite out of it.
"Hey, I helped fold your laundry," he argues, picking up the discarded olives and popping them in his mouth. "I think that makes us even."
"Except you made me sweep the deck while you pretended to fix the hot tub," she says around a mouthful of pizza, and picks up her can of beer.
"I was not pretending," he argues, stealing the beer from her hand and quickly chugging the last of it before she can snatch it back. "I was checking the PH levels."
Leah didn't answer but glared at him instead, while she ate the rest her pizza. She hates it when he takes her food, not just because it's annoying, but because it's so fucking intimate. She watches him lick his lips, like he's savoring the last of her beer, and all she can think about is his mouth. The soft, pale, pink curve as it disappears into his stubbled chin. How only one part of his mouth actually raises when he smiles, due to some nerve damage he sustained during birth. It's not that noticeable; she never really saw it until he told her about it, but now it's all she sees when he smiles. She kind of loves it.
"Besides, you shouldn't complain," Edward says, standing up, and pushes her shoulder playfully. "I did it for you."
"For me?" She stopped herself from falling backward into the couch and stood up to follow him into the kitchen. "What are you talking about?"
"You said you were sore from work and now from helping me with the yard. So, I figured we could soak in the hot tub," he says with a shrug, while he walks over to the refrigerator and grabs each of them a fresh beer.
She panics at the thought of being in the hot tub with Edward. The thought of them both being half naked and wet is doing bad things to her head. Then he makes it worse by stepping close to her and slides a cold beer into her hand. His eyes are fixed on her, and he's making that same face he did earlier.
She scrambles for a way to back out, while he looks at her. He's smiling that beautiful, broken smile, and his eyes are sparkling with something that looks like hope. Leah's body is aching to lean forward and kiss him, but she gets a flash of an idea just before she loses her common sense.
"Can't do it. No swim suit," she sputters quickly and pulls away from him to open her beer.
"Let me worry about that," he says with a smirk and opens his own beer.
She sips her beer and watches him chug his in a matter of seconds. He seems different, more confident than usual. Edward crunches his can in one hand and tosses it into the recycle bin behind him. Leah claps for him, and he gives her an exaggerated bow.
It feels like they've stepped back in time, like this is the Edward of old, and she wonders what brought on this sudden shift. Then she does a quick count of how many beers they've had and realizes that he might be a little buzzed.
"Ed, are you sure this a good idea?" She sets her beer down and gives him a hard look. "Death by drunk hot tubbing is not what I want in either of our obituaries."
"I'm not drunk," he argues, shaking his head, and leans his back against the counter. "I'm comfortably numb."
"Quoting Pink Floyd doesn't instill confidence in your sobriety," she counters and feigns a yawn. "Besides, it's late, I'm tired, and I should be heading home."
"Don't go," he blurts out, closing the distance between them, and grabs her hands in his.
He's so close, and the look on his face is heartbreakingly needy that it almost hurts to look at him. She hates seeing him like this, so sad and lonely. Part of her hates it cause she knows Bella is the cause, and the other, petty part of her, hates it because she knows he doesn't want her company specifically. He just wants anyone.
"Fine," she sighs and gently tugs her hands away. "Though I need to rinse off, or your hot tubs is going to sweat soup."
"No problem," Edward laughs, his relaxed demeanor returning in full force, and gestures toward the stairs. "Go get showered, and I'll find you something to wear.
She runs up the stairs and takes the world's fastest shower, only taking time to shave her legs. It's not that she thinks anything is going to happen, but she'll be damned if she's going to let Edward see her legs looking like pine trees. She steps out of the shower, dries off, and looks at herself in the mirror.
Her face looks a little drawn; her nightmare and lack of restful sleep are leaving signs on her face. She wishes she could figure out a way out this, and she wishes that some part of her didn't love it.
"I left a couple of Bella's swim suits on the bed," Edward calls through the bathroom door, startling her out of her thoughts, and nearly gives her a heart attack.
"Thanks," Leah calls back lamely and continues to stare at herself in the mirror.
Is she really going to do this? The hot tub and Edward is a dangerous mix, but it was his idea. All she has to do is keep from gawking at his body too much, and she should be fine.
She walks out of the bathroom and looks at the swimsuits – bikinis, to be more accurate – he laid out on the bed. Leah pulls one of the tops over her B-cup breasts and sighs heavily. Bella has D-cups, which means Leah looks utterly ridiculous in the top. She tries on the bottoms and at least they fit.
Leah checks herself out in the mirror. As soon as she stands straight the top slides down around her waist. She groans and takes it off, scanning her own clothes for options. After digging through piles of clean laundry she settles on an old sports-bar. It's white and kind of thin, but it will stay on.
"Finally! I thought you'd fallen in," Edward jokes when she finally gets downstairs. He waves her over to where he's standing near the backdoor. He has a mischievous smile on his face and is obviously hiding something behind his back.
"Shut up and tell me why you're smiling, doofus," she replies and tries to step around him to see what he is hiding, but he shifts to block her view. "What do you have there?"
"A little something to surprise you," he says, shaking his head and giving her a playful frown "But I don't know if I should give it to you after you made me wait so long."
"Fork it over, buttface," Leah groans and wraps her arms around his waist to make a grab for his hands.
They're suddenly pressed together, and his face is buried in her hair as he laughs and shifts in her arms. She holds his hip and continues trying to feel what's in his hands, while they bump against each other. While she tries to not acknowledge how good it feels to be so close, he leans into her and bites her neck. Leah yelps and jumps back, her body humming with arousal.
"What the hell?" she complains, rubbing her neck and wishing it didn't turn her on so much.
"Serves you right for trying to peek," he replies with a smirk and snaps his teeth together for emphasis, which only serves to turn her on more.
"Okay, I'm sorry. Now show me!" She puts her hands on her hips, now genuinely annoyed and ready to call off the game.
"Fine," he says with a dramatic sigh and brings his hands around to show her a small cellophane bag with a small leafy bundle in the bottom. "You said I was more fun stoned, so I thought we could smoke some while we relax in the hot tub."
"Where in the fuck did you get that?" She laughs, snatching the baggie from his hand, and opens it to sniff at the contents.
"Emmett left it behind on his last visit," Edward answers, watching her with an amused expression on his face, while she carefully examines the marijuana. "Rose never lets him smoke at home anymore, so I picked up a bag for while he was here."
"It smells skunky," She eyes him suspiciously, while holding the green bud of weed to her nose. "Who do you know that deals drugs?"
"Mrs. Potter," Edward replies with a shrug.
"As in Harry's mother?" Leah gives him a look of disbelief, while she tucks the weed back into the bag and hands it back to him.
"No," Edward laughs and shakes his head. "She's one of my patients. "
"Oh, is she hot?" Leah tries to sound conversational, but internally she is hating this Potter bitch.
"Yes, for an eighty year old woman she is pretty smokin', actually," Edward replies, poking her in the ribs, and gets a slap on the hand for his trouble. "She grows her own to help with pain management and occasionally she will sell some to friends to help supplement her income. To be honest, I only bought it to help her pay her bills, because she wouldn't take my money without giving me something in return. I didn't even smoke any with Emmett."
"Always the white knight," Leah says, shaking her head and smiled. "So, do you have a pipe?"
"Nope," Edward answers, looking a little guilty. "I was hoping you had one."
"Edward, I haven't smoked in over four years," she snorts, rolling her eyes, and turns to walk into the kitchen.
"I wasn't judging you or anything," Edward quickly sputters, while he follows her.
"Yeah, sure you weren't." She walks over to the refrigerator and grabs a can of soda. "Do you have a pen?"
"Yes," he answers, walking over to grab a pen from the junk drawer, and turns to watch her pour out the soda in the sink. "That's rather wasteful."
"I love it when you talk like a schoolmarm," Leah mutters, crunching the center of the can, and snatches the pen from his hands. "It's so sexy."
"If you like that you should see me with reading glasses and bun," he replies, tugging on a clump of her hair, and watches her puncture the center of the can.
"If you make me fuck this up I'm going to jam this pen in your trachea," she snaps, trying to stifle her laughter and keep her hand steady.
"Oh, look who's dropping the fancy medical terms," Edward says in a mocking tone and leans in to get a better look at the can.
"There," Leah sighs, raising the can up, and tries to not notice how Edward's breath still smells sweet from the cupcakes. "It's not perfect, but it'll do."
"Great!" He grabs her hand and pulls her out the back door.
The chilled night air hits her like a wall, making her immediately shiver. Edward doesn't seem to notice; he keeps tugging her toward the bubbling hot tub. Steam is rising in swirling plumes turned white by the tea-lamps hanging from the lattice-work shades lining the deck. This area of the deck is secluded, and hidden from the view of the neighbors, giving her a sense of protection.
Leah sets the can on the ledge of the tub and climbs inside. She steps down into the tub and hisses at the feel of the hot water bubbling against her skin, while she takes a seat on the built in ledge. Heat immediately spreads over her skin and begins to soak into her sore body. She sighs and relaxes into the natural incline of the seat.
"Here," Edward says, setting the baggie down on the edge of tub next to her head, and walks over to the grill.
She turns to watch him walk away, admiring how his baggy swim trunks hang of his hips and expose the defined lines of his lower back. Maybe it's the beer or the hot tub, but her early apprehension is gone. Tonight is like any other night with Edward, friendly fun. She should enjoy it for what it is, without trying to root out signs that aren't there.
"I know it's long, but it's the only one I've got," Edward says, setting a long fireplace lighter down beside the bag of pot, and climbs into the tub.
"That's what he said," Leah says without missing a beat, and they both erupt into fits of laughter.
"I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Edward shakes his head and leans back into his seat beside her.
"Yes, you did." She continues to chuckle, drying her hands on one of the towels he set out for them, and begins to set up.
Edward scoots in close to watch her with an expression of intense fascination. "So, how does this work exactly?"
"You've never smoked through a soda can before?" Leah asks, surprised.
"Back in my time we used bongs," Edward croaks and pulls his lips over his teeth, mimicking an old man. "We also walked fifty miles, through the snow to score a dime bag."
"Shut up and listen!" Leah chuckles and slaps at his shoulder.
"It's pretty similar to what you're used to." Leah begins lifting the can, so he can see it better. "Light the bud, suck air in through the mouth hole and when you've got enough take away the lighter."
"Sounds straight forward enough. Pass it over," Edward says, reaching out to grab the can, but Leah moves it away and takes a hit first. "Hey!"
She sucks in the spicy smoke, letting it fill her lungs until she feels the itching urge to cough, and stops. Edward quickly takes the can from her hand, giving her a dirty but playful frown, and takes a hit. She exhales watching how the smoke mingles with the steam in a strange spiraling dance. Edward offers her the can back, while he slowly exhales through his nostrils, and she giggles. It reminds her of the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, and for a second she wonders if she's become a lightweight.
They continue to take hits, passing the can back and forth in silence, until Leah decides to try to blow a smoke ring. She leans forward, her mouth held in the shape of an 'o' and tries to blow out the smoke in short puffs. Leah used to do the trick all the time when she still smoked, but the pot smoke isn't thick enough, and she suspects that she just looks like a blow up doll. Her suspicions are confirmed when Edward starts to laugh, while in the middle of taking a hit.
He immediately starts to choke and coughs out smoke, while his eyes bulge. The jerking motion of his coughing causes the little smoldering coal of pot to roll out of the can and drop into the swirling, hot water. Leah immediately starts laughing and subsequently chokes on her own smoke.
After a few more minutes of sputtering coughs and wheezing laughter, they both recover. Leah takes the can and lighter from Edward's hand, setting them back down on the ledge of the tub, while he continues to clear his throat. She watches him, smiling, and leans her head back, enjoying how the water just touches the base of her neck.
"Stop basking in my humiliation," Edward remarks in a gravelly voice and clears his throat again.
"Quit whining. I coughed, too," Leah sighs and splashes him with some water.
"Hey," he complains, turning his head, and splashes her back.
Leah doesn't even bother to turn away, letting the water splatter her face, and smiles at the wondrous sensation. Her skin is tingling, and her head is already feeling light. She'd forgotten how much she loved this feeling, how freeing it was.
"Shit, Mrs. Potter has some good shit," Leah admits with a laugh and closes her eyes, while her whole head vibrates with the sound.
"My god, you're not kidding," Edward groans next to her, and she feels him move closer.
She opens her eyes to see his head settle on her shoulder and smiles at how it doesn't make her heart flutter. It just feels…nice. Leah forgot how much she missed this part of their friendship, these quiet moments where they could just be together.
Three years ago
"You cut your hair," Edward said with a look of disappointment on his face. His jaw was set hard, like he was mad about something, but Leah was clueless as to what.
"Yeah, it was Nahuel's idea," Leah replied, touching her hair and wishing she wasn't so self-conscious about it. "He says it makes me look sophisticated."
"I agree," Bella commented, reaching out to brush Leah's bangs from her eyes, and gave her a wink. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks," Leah said, smiling back at Bella, and felt oddly comforted by her stepsister's compliment.
Maybe it was because it was the nicest thing she'd heard from either of them since she'd met up with them. She glanced at Edward who was rubbing the rim of his pint-glass with his thumbnail, a sullen look on his face. He let out a heavy sigh and lifted the glass to his lips, drinking the rest of its contents in one gulp.
"I'm going to get another beer," he mumbled and left before either of them could say anything.
Bella and Leah watched his retreating back in silence for a few minutes. Leah couldn't puzzle out where his foul mood was coming from, but it had been nearly a month since they last talked on the phone. Even then he seemed…off. It was weird. It bugged her, but she didn't feel comfortable asking Bella about it.
"So, be honest with me. How serious are you about Nahuel?" Bella asked out of nowhere, taking Leah by surprise.
"I don't know. Pretty serious, I guess," she replied, grabbing her water glass and taking a sip to cover her discomfort with Bella's prying question.
"Relax. I don't mean to be pushy," Bella apologized, patting her hand, and leaned in close. "I just need to know if you're planning to move back to Brazil with him."
"I don't know. I mean he hasn't asked," Leah sputtered a little, her mind reeling with the idea of taking that big of a step with Nahuel. "Why do you want to know?"
"A job opportunity has come up in the Seattle office, but Ed is being resistant," Bella explained with a roll of her eyes and took a sip of her wine. "He understands that I want to be close to Dad. I love Seattle, but he doesn't really know anyone out here."
"Except me," Leah added with a gulp and looked up to see Edward walking back toward their table.
"Yes, but if we knew you weren't going to leave I think he would cave," Bella added quickly and squeezed Leah's hand for emphasis. "You know how much fun you two have together, and it would mean a promotion for me." She paused and then quickly added, "But I understand that your relationship with Nahuel is a priority."
"You're still drink lagers right?" Edward stepped up to the table just as Bella finished. He held two beer glasses in his hand and was about to set one down in front of Leah, but she held up her hand.
"I don't drink anymore," she said with a grimace, and he stepped back obviously shocked.
"Since when?" He spoke in a demanding tone that grated her nerves, but she reminded herself to breath and let it go, just like Nahuel taught her.
"Six months," Leah admitted, swallowing around a lump in her throat, though she wasn't sure why it was there. "Nahuel thinks it will help with my temper."
"What's wrong with your temper?" Edward's voice rose another octave, and a few of the people at the table behind him turned to look at them with irritated expressions.
"Edward," Bella scolded,, wrapping her hand around his wrist, and he immediately deflated.
"I'm sorry," he sighed heavily and shook his head. "I'm just hungry."
Bella accepted his lame excuse with a sympathetic smile, but Leah wasn't fooled. Edward was still glowering at his glasses of beer and refused to look her in the eye. She wondered if he was upset that she had been so busy with Nahuel. They usually talked at least once or twice a week, but lately things had been so hectic. Naheul always seemed to have some event, dinner, or activity planned for them. They were out almost every night, and she was at school all day. It left her with almost no time to even check her personal email.
She hadn't been a very good friend, but part of that had been her concerted effort to try to just be Edward's friend. After Edward and Bella left on their honeymoon, Leah had vowed she would move on and let go of her feelings for him. Their wedding had almost broken her, and she was determined not to let her ruin her future.
She wasn't going to waste away pining for a man she couldn't have. That was too pathetic for words, especially, when she met a perfectly suitable, single guy through school. Nahuel was a professor, he taught Portuguese and South American history. He was a genius, gorgeous, and for some reason he thought she was worth dating. Leah knew she was lucky as hell to find him, and she wasn't going to blow it on some silly crush.
"I apologize for my tardiness," Nahuel's smooth accented voice flowed down her spine and made her smile.
He was standing behind her, his large hands wrapped around her neck, and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Leah tilted her head up to look at him and beamed with the pride and gratitude she felt every time he was near.
"Oh, hello." Bella quickly stood up from her seat to reach out a hand to Nahuel.
"You must be Isabella," Nahuel pronounced Bella's full name with a flourish afforded by his accent and bent to place a kiss on her knuckles.
"Just Bella, please," Bella said, her face quickly turning crimson, and gently pulled her hand back, while staring at Leah's boyfriend in a daze.
"You must be Edward." Nahuel stepped forward, his hand extended to Edward, and smiled warmly.
"Yeah," Edward stood up and shook Nahuel's hand with an unreadable expression on his face.
"It is a pleasure to meet you both," Nahuel said, taking his seat and placing his hand on the back of Leah's neck.
The rest of the dinner passed with relative ease. Nahuel easily charmed Bella with stories about his childhood in Brazil and world travels. Once in awhile, when Nahuel wasn't looking, Bella would give Leah a little thumbs up or make a face that showed she thought Leah's boyfriend was a catch. For her part Leah tried to play it off with a humble smile, while inside she cheered that she'd landed such a fantastic boyfriend.
Her elation would dissipate whenever she looked at Edward, who looked like he was either going to throw up or scream. At one point he actually glared at Leah like she'd insulted him, but neither of them had spoken directly to each other since Nahuel had arrived.
Finally, he rose, claiming he need to use the restroom, and Leah quickly excused herself, using the same excuse. She caught up with him just outside the men's room and grabbed his arm, yanking him back to face her.
"What in the fuck is your problem?" she demanded, pouring all her anger and confusion into her expression.
"You wanna know what my problem is?" Edward snarled, pulling his arm free of her grip, and began to walk toward her.
She quickly backed up until he had her pressed against the wall. He stared into her eyes, his face a mask of fury. His whole body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage.
"That is the first time you've said fuck tonight," he hissed, leaning closer, and raised his hand to her face. "You don't have a temper problem. You love to drink, and…"
His voice cracked, and his expression shifted to a look of sadness as his fingers combed through her hair. "You cut your hair."
"You're mad because of my hair?" Her voice shook slightly; his touch and the emotions in his voice had thrown her completely.
"You're not you," he said, shaking his head, and lowered his eyes to look at the hair between his fingers. "He's changing you, and you can't even see it."
"Maybe I needed changing to be happy," she argued, hating that he could get her to admit that much out loud.
He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, the fury returning to his eyes. "You deserve better."
She stared at him for a long silent moment, fighting back the tears and pain that wanted to erupt out of her at his words. He was wrong, and he didn't even understand why. She had a good thing with Nahuel, the best she was going to get, and if it meant biting her tongue once in a while it was worth it.
"I deserve to be happy," she replied, pushing him hard, and walked back to the table without looking back.