More wedding fun and shenanigans.
Many thanks to SarcasticBimbo for polishing up these chapters.
CHAPTER TWELVE—BELLA
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As the night goes on, tux jackets and bow ties come off, shirtsleeves are rolled up. The whole room is a smorgasbord of eye candy, and my favorite flavor comes in green eyes and auburn hair.
The bride and groom cut the cake, and while Emmett's face gets completely smeared in frosting, the death glare Rosalie gives my brother ensures not a particle of sugar goes anywhere but her mouth. When it's time for the garter toss, Emmett sticks his head underneath Rose's skirt, scandalizing Granny Swan and all her generational counterparts. When he comes out with it between his teeth, I'm afraid we might have to use a few Life Alert necklaces. I'm a little squicked out myself, picturing my brother … doing that. What has been seen cannot be unseen.
After the entertainment is finished, Emmett and Rose make their way around the ballroom, welcoming and thanking all the guests. When they make their way over to me, Emmett throws an arm around my shoulders, tucking me against his side.
"Bells," he says, a little too loudly. He's been hitting the bar, obviously. "How's my baby sis?"
I roll my eyes at the comment, but have to smile at the grin on his face. He's over the moon, and I'm just as happy for him. "Great," I tell him, "there are so many fraternity boys to choose from," I tease.
Rose shakes her head, knowing I wouldn't touch any of them with a ten-foot pole. "Calm down, Emmett," she says when she sees him glowering at me.
"Those guys are way too old for you," he all but growls. "None of them know how to respect a woman, either."
"Relax. I'm joking." I nudge my brother with an elbow, and he drops his arm from around my shoulders.
"Okay, okay! Ouch." He rubs his side, totally exaggerating. "My self-defense lessons have taught you well," he observes with a self-satisfied grin.
I snort. "Your 'self-defense lessons' consisted of 'just kick him in the balls, Bella'."
"I won't even tell you about the ones he gave me," Rose says, waggling her perfectly manicured brows at me.
Ugh. "I have no desire to know anything about your sex life." I only hope Emmett will have the same attitude about mine, and I can't help but wonder what he'll do when he finds out about Edward and me.
Emmett smirks. "She's not far off the mark, Rosie."
"Gross, guys."
"Okay, okay, I get it. In all seriousness, Bells, I'm—we're—glad you could be here for us. You being a part of our wedding is very important to us. I love ya, sis."
To my embarrassment, I feel tears prick at my eyes. This is about as emotional as Emmett gets, and it's moving. I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze. "I love you, too, Em." We release each other, and I move to hug Rose. "You, too, Rose. I'm glad we're finally sisters."
"Me too, Bella. Love you."
"Now, let's all hug it out," Emmett commands, crooking his fingers at both of us.
Rose and I glance at one another, and then we exchange a mutual eye roll.
"Aren't you glad you signed up for a lifetime of this?" I ask as Emmett pulls us in for a group hug.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
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The party really gets going after all the formal stuff is done. I'd love to see Emmett's face when he gets the bill for the open bar. I see Edward a few times, always across the room, and he's always watching me. He hasn't danced with anyone, save his mother. The mere thought of him dancing with another girl has my stomach in jealous knots, so I try not to think about it. A few minutes later, a good distraction comes in the form of my mother.
"Want to dance, my dear?" she asks dramatically, bowing as if she were a man in the eighteenth century. She's obviously been into the champagne.
"Of course, Madam." I give her my hand and she kisses it, making us both laugh.
We chitchat about the wedding, how she's so proud of Emmett, how much she loves Rosalie. I know all of this, of course, but Mom is one of those people that tells the same stories over and over when she's drunk.
"You look beautiful, honey. So grown up." She didn't tear up while talking about her newly married son, but now, she sniffles. I don't get it.
"Thanks, Mom."
"I love you, Baby."
Humoring the drunk lady, I pull her close for a hug. "I love you, too, Mom."
I see Edward not too far away, and he's watching us with a smile on his face. I return the grin over Mom's shoulder. She and I awkwardly make our way around the dance floor, content to be quiet as we watch the excitement going on around us.
Then, she casually asks, "What's with you and Edward?"
My eyes go wide before I manage to get them under control. Maybe she isn't as drunk as I thought.
My first instinct is to deny everything. "What are you talking about?"
She gives me that condescending look all moms have in their repertoire. "He's been watching you all night."
"He's probably making sure none of Emmett's frat brothers hit on me." It's a pretty good excuse, in my opinion.
It might even be valid, aside from the "I want you" vibe I've seen all night long, and am guilty of returning. Apparently, he's not so great at concealing it, because if Mom noticed, everyone else will, too. Renee's the best mom I could've ever asked for, but she's never been the most observant person.
"You're looking at him like he's something to eat," she says with a smirk. Then she winks. "Have you?"
"Have I what?" I start to panic. She knows, she knows!
"Eaten that?"
This is not happening. Did my mom ask me if I've given Edward a blow job?
"Mom, I don't even … I can't … Uh…" My tongue won't work. It's paralyzed by humiliation.
"I always knew he'd grow up to be a handsome man," she sighs.
She's right on that. As cute as my preteen self thought he was, the man surpasses all my wildest dreams.
"Have you two done it yet?"
Mortification makes my face go hot. "What the hell, Mom?"
"Is that not what they call it these days? Let me think. In our day, it was bumping uglies, making the beast with two backs, taking the bus to Tuna Town—"
"For God's sake, Mom!" People dancing on either side cast us curious stares. "And, no. We haven't." I wish a sinkhole would open up underneath me.
"You have a lot of willpower, Bella. You got that from your father. Speaking of Charlie, does he know?" Her expression goes from teasing to concerned. "What about Emmett?"
I shake my head. "Neither one." When she opens her mouth to offer an opinion, I cut her off. "We want a little more time to be together without inviting everyone else into our relationship."
She purses her lips, but her eyes are supportive. "Honey, you know I'll keep your secret. But please, be careful. Emmett's always been so protective of you. From the moment we told him he'd be getting a sibling, he was ecstatic. When you were born and he found out he had a baby sister, he fell in love. It was so cute. His eight-year-old self was ready to take on the world for you. Edward has been his best friend since they were in preschool, and he's the person Emmett trusts most, aside from us. He might not be very happy with Edward if you two continue to keep this from him."
I nod, blinking back tears. "We're taking a big risk, but I know it will work out. It has to. Edward is in my life, and that won't change. He's worth it, Mom. Emmett will have to come around."
"He will, Bella. But you two are going to have to trust him. Tell him, sooner rather than later. You don't want him finding out on his own." She pulls me into her arms and gives me another one of her awesome hugs, right in the middle of the dance floor.
"I promise. And, Mom?"
She releases me and we walk to the edge of the floor. "No, I won't tell your father. Yet." She gives me a pointed look.
"We'll tell him. And Emmett," I assure her, though neither conversation is one I'm eager to have.
"You might have an easier time of it with Charlie," she says with a conspiratorial grin. "He's always had a soft spot for Edward. In spite of his gun collection." She adds that last part with an evil laugh and heads straight for Dad, with a sway in her hips that makes me want to gouge my eyes out as I catch my dad waggling his eyebrows as she nears.
"Care for a dance?"
The voice behind me is deep and smooth, but not the one I want to hear. I turn and find Paul, one of Emmett's frat buddies, also the one he told me to stay away from at all costs. His black hair shines under the soft glow of fairy lights, casting his face in intriguing shadows. He's very handsome, but the air about him indicates he knows it. Mistakenly, he takes my lack of response as consent, and drags me back onto the dance floor.
He's not a very good dancer, and he holds me way too close. I grit my teeth and pray the song is a short one.
"Who knew Emmett's little sis would grow up to be such a hottie?" He grins, slick and sleazy.
"Who knew?" I repeat, full of sarcasm.
He either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "You and me, we should hang out after this party is over." He looks around. "It's kind of lame. Don't tell Emmett," he whispers, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He's totally leering at my tits, and it's pissing me off, aside from his asinine comment about the wedding.
"Oh, don't worry, I won't tell my brother that his wedding reception—that I helped plan—is 'lame'." I try to extract myself from his clueless hold, but he doesn't budge.
"Oh, my bad, Bella. This party is totally awesome."
My bad? Does anyone say that anymore? This guy is something else.
"What are you? A bad imitation of Van Wilder?" It's a complete insult to Ryan Reynolds, but Paul has got to be the embodiment of the token douche bag in every college movie ever.
"Huh?"
I get ready to really lay into him when a hand lands on Paul's arm.
"May I cut in?"
I practically sag in relief. Edward looks murderous, and it's entertaining to see Paul go wide-eyed and pale. He releases me immediately, and I step into Edward's side, letting him claim me.
"Hey, Cullen. What's up? I was just dancing with Bella, here," he babbles, backing away. "Tell Emmett I said 'hey.' I gotta jet."
I crack up. "He really is a college movie stereotype! 'I gotta jet'!" I imitate his voice, then double over laughing.
Edward waits for me to catch my breath, and I straighten to find him watching me with amusement written all over his handsome face. "I take it you're okay."
I nod, wishing I could kiss that beautiful smile, right here in front of everyone. "He's harmless. And clueless."
His brows crease as he pulls me into his arms. "I didn't like the way he was touching you."
I snort. "Me neither. Thanks for the save."
A new song begins, a melody that starts bare-bones but builds into a low-key, layered dance beat. The lyrics hit home, and I close my eyes and lose myself in the way my body fits with Edward's.
I've never been a dancer, but with him, it's effortless. We've both had a couple drinks and our inhibitions are lowered. His hands rest low on my back, then migrate to my sides, and back again. It's dangerous, dancing this close. Those hands are too low to be friendly, but every slight touch, every flex of his fingers sends a thrill up my spine. I open my eyes and find him watching me, eyes dark green and wanting.
"I wish I could kiss you," he murmurs, staring at my lips.
"You could," I reply, feeling as if I need that kiss more than I need to breathe.
He squeezes his eyes shut and appears like he's in pain. "No, I can't." His voice is final.
It tears me up inside, but he's right. We can't cause a scene at Emmett's wedding. It wouldn't do to upstage the bride, and the kind of chaos we'd cause would definitely do it.
Trying to lighten the mood, I poke him in the side. "Well, you can kiss me later."
He smiles down at me. "I'll hold you to that promise."
"I'll hold a lot more than that to you."
He laughs. "Your jokes are awful."
"Yet you keep coming back."
His expression goes serious. "Always."
We've stopped dancing, but remain in the middle of the floor. I'm not sure what "always" means for him. I know what I want it to mean, but if I take it to heart and he doesn't feel the same way, I'll be crushed.
"Whatever you're thinking, stop." He glances around, then puts a hand up to my cheek. "I mean it. I'll always be there. I'll always come back."
He searches my face, and I'm not sure what he sees. I'm not exactly sure what I'm feeling—a mixture of uncertainty and need, with a little fear mixed in. I'm in so deep with this man, I'll never claw my way out.
Edward grabs my hand, practically dragging me to the ballroom entrance. In the hallway, the lights are bright and searing until our eyes adjust. His eyes are brighter, set off by a slight flush high on his cheeks. How is it possible that every time I see him, he gets more handsome?
There's no one from the wedding out here at the moment, but that could change. Neither one of us care; our need for one another is too great. He pulls me around a corner, one that leads to a different, deserted ballroom. As soon as we're out of sight, I'm in his arms and his lips are on mine. He tastes like whiskey, sending my head whirling—as if he's not intoxicating all on his own. His tongue brushes mine, then again with a soft moan into my mouth. I fist my hands in his hair, tugging him closer. Our bodies connect at every point, glued together. I run my teeth over his lower lip, shivering as one of his hands slides up my back to cup the nape of my neck. Disappointment washes through me when he pulls back, dropping his forehead to mine.
"We have to stop," he murmurs. "Someone might notice we're gone."
He licks his lips, and the sight drives me crazy, because he always does that. It's like he can't get enough of the way I taste. I feel the exact same way. Releasing his hair, I let my hands slide down to rest at his sides, enjoying the solid, lean lines of his body. He grabs one of my hands and interlocks our fingers before bringing them up to his lips. I practically melt into a puddle on the carpet.
"Can't we just go?" Brain and body buzzing, I've only got one thing on my mind.
He grins and drops a short, soft kiss on my tingling lips. "I wish. But we've got to wait until Rose and Emmett leave, at the very least."
"I think I have a headache." I put on my best innocent face.
He frowns, as if he's concerned. "You do?"
"See, even you believe it, and you were sucking my face off a couple minutes ago." I smirk at his irritated expression.
"Okay, so that gets you out of here, but I've got no excuse." He thinks for a minute. "Okay, how about this: 'Oh, hey, Emmett. Bella has a terrible headache that only my naked body can cure.' You think he'd go for that?"
Laughing, I pinch his side. "I get it. We're stuck."
"Until later," he says, and it's a promise, one full of heat.
I can see it in his eyes; he's just waiting for me to give him the go ahead. The timing isn't the best, but neither of us want to wait any longer. The reality of what will happen tonight sparks a swell of warmth in my belly.
"Later," I agree, going up on tiptoe to kiss him one last time.
A few seconds turns into minutes, before he reluctantly pulls away with a sheepish grin. "Get out of here before I drag you to the elevator." He's winded, and I can feel him, hard and thick through his pants. "I need a little time to … decompress."
I giggle and back away with a little wave. "See you later."
No one notices when I slip back in to the reception. My heart is still racing from Edward's kisses, my body is on fire, and I feel like I'm glowing, but none of it's visible to anyone else. I easily disappear into the crowd of dancers, but make my way to the bar on the other side. A few minutes later, I'm double-fisting the open bar's finest champagne. Knowing Emmett's taste in champagne, it's probably Andre, but it's free. I chug the first flute and set it on a random table, and that's where Charlie finds me.
He glances at my drink and raises his eyebrows. "Got some sorrows to drown, Bells?"
I put on my best happy face and shake my head. "It's more of a celebration. I'm so glad the reception is here. Rose wasn't a Bridezilla, but Alice is a whole different story. Good thing she's already married, or I'd go into hiding when her time came."
"Well, I'm pretty happy to be the Groom's dad. Means I get off scot free." With a grin, he twirls one end of his mustache, then leans a hip against the table, settling in for a talk.
I roll my eyes, since I've been subjected to that move my entire life. I've never seen him without a mustache. I'm not sure I'd even recognize him without it.
"Glad the rest of us could do all the work for you, Dad." I take another hefty swig, enjoying the bubbles on my tongue. It's cold and fizzy, and the second glass tastes better than the first.
He smirks beneath that mustache. "I'd ask you to dance, but I promised my only one to your mother."
"It's fine. Dancing isn't my thing either." Unless it's with Edward. It's not so awkward then.
He nods. "Got that from your old man." He pauses, giving me the appraising eye that always made me nervous when I was younger. It's the one he gives me when he thinks I'm hiding something.
"Saw you dancing with Edward earlier." Then he waits.
Silence is Charlie's thing, and it's uncannily successful in making me spill my guts. Which is why I've trained myself to avoid this situation at all costs. This whole thing has been an interrogation, and I didn't see it coming. Edward scrambled my brain out in the hallway earlier.
I run all the scenarios in my head, searching for that magic story which doesn't give me away. Problem is, I can't think of any. Lucky for me, Dad either takes pity on me or decides I need a little more incentive to talk.
"You two looked awfully comfortable."
I finish the champagne in one gulp and look for a place to put the empty flute. Dad takes it from me with a wry smile and sets it on the table behind him. Some bubbles linger at the back of my throat, making me cough.
Once I manage to speak, I offer, "Yeah, he's a good buddy." Oh, for fuck's sake.
"I guess he's just swatting the flies away for your brother." Those eyes of his bore into mine in challenge. There's a chess match going on here, and he's kicking my ass.
But there's no way I'm letting him compare me to something that collects flies.
"I'm not a pile of garbage, Dad," I deadpan, giving him the stink-eye.
He laughs out loud. "No, but my baby girl is sweeter than honey."
I almost throw up in my mouth. "Gross. I don't think that means what you think it means these days."
Puzzled, he asks, "What? What did I say? Flies like honey, don't they?"
His bewilderment is almost enough to make me forget his gross comment.
"Fruit flies, maybe."
Charlie snorts. "That's even better. Let's call all those overgrown punks fruit flies."
"Those are Emmett's friends, Dad."
He shrugs. "Eh, the only one worth remembering is Edward. Always was a loyal kid. Smart, too."
I forget to suppress my smile. "Yeah, he is."
He watches me with those cop eyes again. Finally he nods, standing up straight. Pulling me into a hug, he pats me on the back. "Good talk, kid. Make sure you dance with your mother."
"Already did," I respond as he lets me go.
"And slow down on the champagne."
I sigh. "I suppose I could."
I turn toward the bar again, simply to goad him, but he calls after me, "Say 'hi' to Edward for me."
By the time I whirl around, he's already making a beeline for my mom, but I swear I can hear his laughter over the loud music.
What the hell just happened? Does Charlie know? Does he even care?
I sigh, frustrated. Everyone seems to have a theory, an opinion, or some brilliant piece of advice for me.
In spite of my father's directive, I grab another drink. This reception can't be over soon enough.
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I think this one answers/confirms some of your questions and suspicions. But... does Emmett know or not? I'm keeping my lips zipped for now.
Edward is back next chapter. Next chapter, you guys... if only ffn let us use emojis. *heart eyes*