This silly plot is mine. Twilight is not.
Thank you for all your reviews and support for this story.
Sarcastic Bimbo betas, but I fiddle with it afterwards. Mistakes are mine.
CHAPTER FOUR — BELLA
.
.
.
We end up at a diner near my apartment, one that serves all-day breakfast. We both definitely need a good dose of pancakes. Edward devours a short stack, plus a plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon. I'm impressed. I've only ever seen Emmett eat that much.
"Did you go to a kegger last night or what? You're eating like a frat boy the day after a house party," I tease, pointing at his nearly empty plate with my fork. I'm about three-quarters through my own short stack of banana pancakes, and flagging rapidly. At this rate, I'll be ready for a pancake nap in about fifteen minutes.
Chuckling, he answers, "Are you accusing me of eating like Emmett?"
"If the fork fits," I return, eating another bite of pancake even though I know it's a mistake. But it's so damn good.
"Sometimes I don't get much time to eat on shift. Yesterday was one of those days."
His explanation makes me want to pack food for him to take to the hospital. Neither he nor Emmett ever cook much (that I know of), so I know he probably lives on a diet of takeout and vending machine offerings. I have this strange urge to feed him and send him off to work with a sack lunch.
"You want the rest of my pancakes?" I offer, though I'm sure there's room in my stomach somewhere. There's always room for pancakes. They're like Jell-O, but instead of being jiggly, pancakes make you jiggly.
"No thanks; I know better than to get between you and your breakfast food," he says with a grin.
"About time you learned."
"I think I learned that lesson when you beat me with your tennis shoe over a cherry Pop-Tart."
"Those are my favorite," I protest.
I was fifteen and PMS-ing. In that instance, it's perfectly reasonable to beat someone with a shoe over food. In fact, I might do the same as an adult, depending on the food and the time of the month.
He rubs his arm, as if there's a phantom pain. "Believe me, I know. It hurt like a bitch. I'll never forget the image of you swinging that thing by those long-ass shoelaces."
I grin and hold my hands up in peace. "I'm not going to eat it," I assure him. "Really, you're welcome to it. I won't beat you with my purse, or my shoes."
Shaking his head, he smiles and leans back against the booth. "I'm good. Thank you, though.
The waitress comes by and offers more coffee, which we both eagerly accept. Dishes are cleared, but we both linger over steaming mugs of strong, surprisingly good coffee.
"You have one more semester, right?" Edward asks, when the topic turns to my career plans.
I nod, grinning in excitement. "I've already picked a thesis subject, so I'll start outlining and do some work on it over the summer. I'll also be a TA in a couple classes."
"So you've got the summer off?"
"Yeah. I might substitute teach before the kids are out of school. It's good practice."
"Little kids or big kids?" he asks, grinning.
Laughing, I answer, "Little kids. Big kids are too much trouble." I give him a pointed look.
"I'm not a kid." His face, however, has the mischief of one.
"Emmett is. He's a giant man-child. You were, too, when you guys were teenagers."
Sometimes, I swear my brother will never grow up. When he's around me, that is. I have no idea how he manages to pry confessions out of hardened criminals. He used to tickle them out of me, but I'm sure that's frowned upon in the justice system. While Detective Swan is a badass, big brother Emmett is a big, annoying teddy bear.
"Come on. I wasn't as bad."
"You guys were still throwing night crawlers at me when you were eighteen," I say flatly, "even though I'd started feeling sorry for them instead of being afraid of them."
He winces. "Oh. I do remember that."
I tap my temple. "Memory like an elephant's, remember?"
He smiles that crinkly-eyed smile I love as he laughs. If I could have three wishes, seeing that smile every day would be one of them.
The waitress comes by with the check. Edward picks it up before I get the chance, and I shoot him a dirty look as he slides a credit card into the little black folio.
"Don't even start, Bella. You've got bills to pay, jailbird."
Okay, so that grin is a little less awesome when it accompanies one of his smart-ass remarks. "You paid my bail fee. Can't I at least buy you lunch?"
"Nope." He shakes his head, looking smug.
"Why not?"
"I offered to take you to lunch. It's my treat."
"So if I ask you to lunch, I can pay?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because." He says it just like a smart-ass teenager would.
I laugh loudly. "See what I mean?" Pointing at him, I affirm, "man-child."
Despite the fact I've just insulted him, he looks entirely too satisfied with himself when the server comes by to pick up the check.
.
-x-
.
I decide to bake Edward some cookies as a thank you. Without my truck, I have to walk to the grocery store for some of the ingredients, but there aren't better cookies on the planet than my Sea Salt Chocolate Chip cookies, so the trip will be worth it. My brother's girlfriend, Rose, even uses the recipe at the bakery she just opened up here in Queen Anne. They sell out every day.
When he shows up the next morning to give me a ride, his face lights up when I hand him the container filled with two dozen cookies. He devours four of them in a row, and the noises he makes are downright sexual. Is it getting hot in this car, or is it just me?
I crack the window to let in a little cool air.
It's all I can do to keep from moaning as I watch him lick crumbs from his lower lip. God, when did I turn into such a pervert? But I'm never going back. If I can't ogle the hottest guy I know, then who else can I objectify? Why is my stupid teenage crush so much stronger now? Is it the vibes I'm getting? The ones that indicate he might feel the same way? Does he finally see me as a woman and not just Emmett's little sister? It sure seemed that way when he raked that gaze all over me back at my apartment. The hand he rested on the small of my back as we left the diner didn't feel brotherly, either.
I don't know what to think—except I'm loving seeing Edward this much, and I don't want it to stop. I don't want to go back to seeing him whenever I happen to run into him and Emmett somewhere. I like spending time with just the two of us. It's easy, and fun, and brings a new element to our relationship that wasn't there before.
We hit up the shelter first, since it's on the way to the impound lot. I can tell Edward isn't exactly excited about letting Jake into his car, but he's gracious about it. I have to cover up a laugh when he spreads a silver emergency blanket across his tiny backseat. Jake's claws are going to tear that up in no time.
Once he's convinced his car is as protected as it can get, we head inside and retrieve Jake. Before I can get him, I'm reminded to pay my ticket for Dog At Large within thirty days. I assure the shelter worker it's not a problem, reminding myself not to take it out on the poor girl; she just works here. Surreptitiously, I look around for the dog catcher bitch. I'd love to beat her with a shoe.
Jake comes around the corner, pulling at the leash, claws scrabbling on the linoleum, barking when he sees me. I crouch down to his level and the shelter girl lets go of the leash. He practically knocks me over when he plants his paws on my shoulders and licks all over my face. He's barely thirty-five pounds, but what he lacks in mass, he makes up for in energy.
"He's… enthusiastic," Edward says, amused.
I peer up at the sweet smile on his face and reply, "He's a girl's best friend."
When Jake and I are finished greeting one another, there's black and white fur all over my sweater and jeans, but I don't even care. I finally get to my feet and grab the temporary leash.
"Let's get out of here."
"Of course." Edward's grin is less than eager. If a smile could look worried, this would be it.
Within a mile, Jake has managed to wad up the emergency blanket. My sweet border collie mix is stretched out on the bare leather, looking at us innocently, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth as he pants in excitement. There's already hair all over the seat and floorboards. He's even better at shedding than he is at escaping.
"Sorry about that. I can come and vacuum it out if you want."
"Don't worry about it. Now, if he scratches up my seats, he and I will have words," he says with a more easygoing smile. He was looking pretty constipated when we first put Jake in the car. "I'm glad he's not one of those yippy-yappy little things. I was afraid you had a purse dog."
I burst out laughing. "No way. I'm never going to have a dog you can dress like a Barbie doll."
"Me neither. If I ever get a dog. I don't have a lot of time for a pet." He looks a bit sad.
"Well, if you need a pet fix, you know where to go. I'll let you walk him," I say with a smirk. We'll see if he can keep up with the little monster.
"I'll let you know," he laughs, grinning at me as he stops at a light.
We watch each other for a long moment, smiles slowly fading until he looks away, clearing his throat. I have no idea what that was about, and it leaves me feeling awkward as the light turns green. We're silent until we're almost to the impound lot.
"Thanks for the cookies," he says, finally breaking up the uncomfortable silence. "I think I was too busy eating them to thank you before."
"I'll bake them for you anytime." I mean it. I'd love any excuse to see him. Even better if I can bring him some food. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?
Edward waits outside with Jake while I go inside to pay the impound fee. An empty savings account later, I head back outside with an attendant, who leads the three of us to the prison-like gates we saw yesterday. The attendant punches some numbers into a keypad, and the gates roll open, the rusty metal creaking and clanging. After giving me the aisle number, the sullen-looking government employee leaves Edward and me standing in the midst of about a thousand impounded cars.
I turn to Edward, feeling a little sad that our adventure has come to an end. "Thanks for all your help," I say with a grateful smile. "Jake and I have got it from here."
"Are you kidding me?" he asks, as if he can't believe what he's heard. "I'm not leaving you in the middle of this."
With that, he puts a hand on the small of my back—again—and helps me search for my rusty red monster truck, which takes us over an hour to find. The attendant must've given us the wrong aisle number. Whether it was on purpose of not is debatable. Relieved, we all hop into the truck, and I drive Edward back to his car.
"I'll call you as soon as I can get that bail money together," I tell him as he leans against the driver's side door to say goodbye. "I might have to sell a kidney on CraigsList, but I'll get it."
He blanches. "Bella, don't worry about it. I know you're good for it."
"I'm kidding, Edward. I just need to wait for my check from school. I'm a TA, remember? I only get paid once a month, though."
Visibly relieved, he grins. I never knew he was so gullible. I'll keep it in mind for future use.
"Like I said: don't worry about the money. Pay me when you can."
Jake barks, as if he agrees.
"I'll see you later, Bud," he says, reaching past me to pat Jake on the head.
I catch a whiff of his scent and have to make a concerted effort not to moan, grab his arm, and blatantly sniff him. When he's done saying goodbye to my dog, we stare at each other, and it's just like earlier—awkward and heavy. I wish I knew what he's thinking.
"I'll see you soon," I finally offer, with what I hope is a bright smile. "Thank you again. You really helped me out of a jam." God, I sound like a character from an old sitcom.
What comes out of his mouth next has me convinced we share parts of the same brain.
"No problem there, Beav," he says in a TV announcer voice, and then goes pink.
Because while he totally got the old sitcom vibe, Beav has a completely different connotation in 2017.
I start to giggle, which escalates into full-blown laughter, and he joins in.
"Anyway," I say once I can speak, "I'll call you when I've got the money.
"Sure." He pats the door and backs away, offering a flat-handed wave that looks sort of like a salute.
I wave back and smile.
.
-x-
.
A week goes by, and I don't hear from him. I don't know why I expected to, since I don't have his money yet, but I thought he enjoyed the time we spent together, and might want to do it again, for non jail-related reasons. I check my phone excessively, then get unreasonably nervous and excited when it rings. But when it does, it's never him. I'm not sure why I'm so weird about it; I didn't contact him, either, so maybe it's my own fault, too. Then I start to wonder: did I imagine those looks? Those touches? The sexy smiles I can't get out of my head?
To me, it seems like he's dropped off the face of the earth. No texts, no calls, not even any Facebook memes.
It pisses me off, even though I know I'm being irrational. I can solve the whole problem with one text, one call, but I won't because I want him to make the first move? I'm insane, that's the only explanation.
I need outside input, and the only person I trust for that is Angela. We were roommates freshman year and have been best friends ever since; she's a vault when it comes to secrets. It goes both ways—there's a lot a college girl needs to hide from her pastor father.
She comes over with a six pack, all business, even though it's just after noon. "What's up?"
Over bottles of Blue Moon, I fill her in on the whole jail fiasco and everything Edward related.
"How the hell do I not know about any of this? It's been a week. A week, Bella! You've been holding out." Angela scowls, and I know I'm in trouble.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I had to call Edward because he's the only person I know with enough money to bail me out."
"I would've bailed you out," Angela says, indignant.
"I know you would've. I didn't want you to be broke for the rest of the month." Angela is a TA like me, and we don't exactly make a living wage.
"So you called your brother's best friend." She crosses her arms over her chest. "The one you've had a crush on forever." She pauses for a moment, staring me down. "Good move," she finally says.
"You think? I'm not sure it paid off. He's ghosting me." I frown, wishing he'd at least text. We're friends, right? We have been for a long time. Friends text. Friends call. Ugh, this is driving me nuts.
"It's too soon to tell," she muses. "But I think you can still make this happen. You just have to pretend it's no big deal. When you do see him, act like nothing's wrong."
"Why?"
"One, it makes you look laid back. Two, it might irritate him that you're not wondering why he hasn't called, which will force him to acknowledge his feelings for you."
"Wow. You're good." She's diabolical, is what she is, and it's one of the reasons I love her.
"I know," she says, obviously pleased. "But next time, you'd better not hold out on the good stuff. Especially if you get a piece of that. He's one good-looking dude."
I smirk. "Angela. What would Ben say?" Her new boyfriend isn't exactly a homely guy himself.
"The same thing. He's bi."
My eyes bug out. "Now who's keeping things out of the loop!"
She shrugs. "I just found out a couple days ago. Caught him looking at some interesting porn." Sighing, her gaze goes all dreamy. "It was a good day."
"Tell me more," I beg.
.
-x-
.
Imagine my surprise when I show up at my brother's place for dinner the following Saturday, and find Edward there, along with my cousin, Jasper, and his wife, Alice. He looks just as shocked to see me, and when those lush green eyes meet mine, I have a hard time tearing my gaze away.
Emmett greets me with a hug, breaking my eye-lock with Edward. "Hey, Bells. Edward's joining us for dinner. More the merrier, right?" He waggles his eyebrows and I can just tell … he's about to launch into his Hannibal Lecter impression.
"Don't bother, Em. I forgot the Chianti," I say as he releases me, physically setting me back on my feet.
"You're no fun," Emmett laughs, drawing me into the room. "I do love a good piece of liver, though." He rubs his belly.
While everyone else laughs or groans in disgust, I try to catch Edward's eye again, but he seems determined not to acknowledge me. My feelings are hurt, and all the hopes I had after I left him at the impound lot are crushed all over again, but this time, I'm determined. I won't be passive any longer.
I'll show him. Tonight. He feels something for me, I know it.
Making him act on those feelings has just become my number one goal.
.
.
.
Will she break him? How long do you think it'll take?
Edward is up next. I'm aiming for Thursday. See you then!