Usual disclaimer: Nothing Twilight belongs to me. Just messing around.
Author's Note: All the football fun in this story, and more, would not have been possible without my amazing friend and beta, Leelator. If you haven't already heard, her epic fic How to Seduce a Werewolf was just crowned First Place in the JBNP All Time Favourite Wolf Story category. I wasn't aware of this contest earlier, otherwise I would definitely be bugging all of you to vote her as #1 Beta, because she truly is!
Shameless plug: I'm not one for self-promotion but I wrote a oneshot called Wrong which needs a lot more love! Be nice and read it please? It's something a little different from Three's a Crowd. www()fanfiction()net/s/8335907/1/Wrong (replace () with a dot)
Thank you for your support!
Chapter 6
If I could turn back time and take back everything I said to Jacob that night, would I? Would it change anything?
"Bells, don't you know how I feel about you?"
His earnest question replayed on end in my mind as I struggled to grasp its meaning. The overhead traffic light across the street blinked incessantly casting eerie red hued shadows around us. Next to me stood my best friend, his eyes locked on mine. The air was full of unspoken words and unanswered questions. But what was he trying to get at? Could it be … but no, if he really meant it, why was it so difficult to say it out loud?
"I … I don't know what you mean." My voice was shaky, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "I don't understand why you're saying all this, or why … why you kissed me."
Jacob let out a frustrated sigh and his arms fell slack around me. He whirled around, pacing in circles and muttering to himself. "Fuck … shouldn't have … " were the only words I caught, and they chilled me to the bone. Maybe it wasn't what I thought. I was just another girl he'd kissed in the heat of the moment. My insides clenched, and I hugged my stomach reflexively, unsure if the pain was from throwing up earlier or processing everything that just took place.
"I understand. Nothing happened. It's okay." Tucking my shoulder bag under my arm, I stepped off the pavement.
"No, wait." Quick steps followed behind me. My feet froze as Jacob's hand wrapped around my elbow, holding me in place. "Fuck, sorry. I'm not trying to be an ass."
I struggled to put together a coherent sentence, but all that came out of my mouth was something between a gasp and a choke. "I … I thought you were my best friend." The words finally fell out. My heart sank as his hand dropped to his side. To save myself from further heartbreak, my feet took flight and I dashed across the junction, not turning back to see if he would follow.
Leah stormed into my room at the crack of dawn, in her own words, "scared shitless" I drowned in my own vomit. I'd barely slept, my stomach still felt sick, and I was petrified about facing Emmett and my other co-workers again. But with her warm arm draped around my waist and her soothing words of assurance, sleep finally claimed me.
"Bella." Someone was poking my ribs. "Time to get up."
With great difficulty, I forced one eye open. Light was flooding the room through a crack in the drapes, and on top of me sat Leah trying to shake me awake.
Groaning, I attempted to turn onto my side, but was no match for her strength. "Go away." My hand reached out for a pillow to shield my eyes, but she promptly snatched it away, tossing it onto Alice's bed.
"Rise and shine. It's ten thirty, Bella." Her voice was annoyingly chirpy.
Memories from the previous night started filtering into my consciousness. Did all that really happen? "Can I just hide here today? I don't wanna get up."
"Honey, get over it. It's a brand new day." She loosened her grip on me and climbed off the bed. "Here." She deposited something that crinkled next to me and sat at the foot of my bed. "Breakfast from the dining hall."
"You're my hero." I nudged her with my big toe in thanks.
"You still smell of puke, you know." Leah pinched her nose and made a face.
I spotted a twinkle in her eye. "Liar."
"I know you love me."
"You really know how to blackmail me." Yawning, I rolled out of bed, grabbed my toiletries basket and trudged to the shower stalls, avoiding my reflection in the mirror the whole time. When I returned, Leah was looking pretty comfortable at my desk, munching on a yogurt bar while she flipped through a tattered copy of Rolling Stone.
"Justin Bieber. Hot, ready, legal," she read out from the cover. "Jesus, Bella. When did you start reading such crap?"
"Are you kidding me? This is like the holy bible of the music world." I rifled through the breakfast bag and picked out an apple. "Would you rather I read Sports Illustrated?" There was an old issue I kept somewhere on my desk, which featured college football recruiting and mentioned Jacob's rejection of USC, the top football school on the West Coast, for Washington, a middle-of-the-pack team.
"Please. The only copy you ever bought was when Jake was in it." I tried to conceal the embarrassment on my face. She knew me too well.
"Thanks for the rabbit food." I gave her a one-armed hug. "What would I do without you?"
"You're welcome." She tossed the object of her scorn onto my bed and set her feet on the floor. "I gotta give it to you though, Bella."
"Huh?" I asked in between mouthfuls.
"You really take the cake. What a way to announce your first day at work."
I really didn't want to continue that thread, so I put on my best 'don't-know-what-you're-talking-about' expression. But she just ignored me.
"Yeehaw!" Leah launched herself into the air, making an adroit landing in the middle of the room as she threw an upper cut.
"You practicing for MMA or something?"
"Nope." She tucked her hands back by her side and settled next to me on my bed. "Just simulating what happened last night."
I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, come on, Bella. You had two guys practically trying to rip off each other's balls because of you. Don't tell me that doesn't move you in the least."
It took me a few moments to read the meaning behind her words. "Nah. You know Jake. He just likes to play big brother. Even though I'm older." And even though he kissed you last night.
"He likes you." I choked on a piece of apple. "The question is, do you?" Did she know? How did she find out? I really wasn't ready to have that conversation with anyone, not even Leah.
"He's too old for you, don't you think?" Leah cast me a thoughtful look. It was somewhat of a relief to realize she was referring to Edward.
"I ... I barely know him."
"Would you go out with him, though, if he asked?"
"Jesus, Lee, why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?"
"What love life? Bella, you've never had one." Although that was the truth, the way she put it didn't sound nice. "Don't give me that look. I'm just trying to help you out here."
"I ... stay out of my business, okay?" Jumping off the bed, I wandered to my closet at the other end of the room. "I'm going to do laundry."
"You can't run away forever, you know." I ignored her comment and continued hauling my laundry basket down the hallway.
By the time I was done sorting colors and whites, Leah was gone. Great. I'd rubbed both my best friends the wrong way in the space of less than twelve hours. I checked my phone. There was a missed call from an out-of-state number and a message from Alice saying she'd be out all weekend. Nothing from Jacob. I thought about calling, but then remembered it was game day. The last thing he needed was a distraction from me.
As if it were possible, Artie's was even more crowded than usual, thanks to the game against USC, which for some reason unknown to me, was a really big deal. Everyone was shouting "Revenge! Revenge!" and the place was completely packed. The wait staff had their hands full—even Emmett looked frazzled. Tottering on my tennis heels and balancing tray after tray of food and drinks, I nearly missed Jacob's college football debut. Somehow, one of the rowdy frat boys at my table threw up all over the floor, despite the fact I hadn't served him any alcohol. To top it off, the bus boy for my section was missing in action, leaving me to clean up the mess. I was on my knees, trying to remove the puke when a loud roar rippled through the crowd. It sounded like Black! Black! Black!
What? He wasn't supposed to be playing! Tossing the soiled towel aside, I got to my feet. I stood on tip-toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the game from one of the flat screens at the front, but it was impossible. I couldn't see a thing.
By the time I made it to the balustrade which separated my section in the back from the front hall, all I caught was a close-up of Jacob rushing towards the end zone and the ball sailing towards him. It was over in a matter of seconds—he caught, fell, the whistle blew, and the whole stadium erupted.
"And Husky freshman Jacob Black, the highly touted quarterback recruit who turned down the Trojans, pulls off a stunning debut by catching the tying touchdown. Un-be-live-able!"
My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of what happened. When did Jacob get on the field? And what was he doing at the end zone? But as I watched the replay, it became clear that my best friend had just achieved something remarkable. In the final minutes of a tense encounter with the USC Trojans, he scored the touchdown that sent the game into overtime. It was Jacob's moment of glory, and instead of rooting for him in the stands, I was on the floor cleaning up some idiot's puke. With a heavy heart, I made my way back to the frat boy table and got to my hands and knees again. There wasn't much time left if I wanted to watch Jacob in overtime.
"Need some help?"
"Mike?" Dropping my towel for the second time, I clambered to my feet. "What are you doing here?"
The last time I saw Mike Newton was the night before he flew off to Los Angeles. USC was on the semester system, so he left a whole month before me. I was having mixed feelings about his departure; once we started talking, we actually had fun working together at Outfitters. He was always considerate, surprisingly humble given his parents' wealth, and beneath the shy and awkward exterior, he had a heart of gold. In a way, it was the absence of Leah and Jacob over summer that gave me room to make a new friend. While I knew he liked me, he never pushed that, although perhaps that could be due to Jacob.
"Don't let those California girls run all over you." I remembered teasing him as we said goodbye at the store. "And don't come back with an awful Ellay accent." I slurred 'L.A.' the way I heard actresses say it on television.
He looked pretty much the same except for a slightly more fashionable crew cut. In his cardinal sweater, though, he stood out like a sore thumb in a sea of purple and gold. It was a good thing Jacob just scored, or he might have gotten lynched.
"I bumped into Leah at the stadium. She told me you worked here." Before I could even respond, he reached for the pail at my feet. "The water's all murky. Let me help you change it."
"Mike, no. Stop." I tried to push his hand away, but he held firm.
"Let me take that." My eyes widened in shock as another male voice joined the fray. Edward Cullen appeared from nowhere and stepped between us. I really didn't need their help, but it didn't look like a fight I was going to win.
Edward scanned Mike's appearance from top to toe. "I really don't think you should be walking around dressed like this. Right, Bella?" He cast a pointed look in my direction. Taking advantage of Mike's hesitation, he grabbed the pail's handle, disappearing towards the back.
"I tried to call you this morning." Hearing Mike's voice, I turned around. So that explained the unknown number on my phone. Turned out he was roommates with one of the Trojan's freshman recruits, who secured him a seat on the team flight at the last minute.
"We're having a post-game party at my parents' place later." Mike's dad did business in the city, and they apparently owned a massive house on the lake. "Wanna come?"
For a brief moment, I pictured myself in a lush hillside estate run over by red-shirted jocks and bleached blond cheerleaders from Southern California and wondered how Jacob would take to that. It was an interesting thought.
But before I had a chance to respond, Edward popped up again, depositing the pail right next to Mike. Water sloshed onto the floor, forcing Mike to take a hasty step backwards where he almost landed in some vomit.
Completely ignoring his reaction, Edward handed me a mop. "Use that. I'll dry." Pushing the tails of his blazer aside, he got to his knees, cleaning the towel in the pail.
"Edward, stop. You shouldn't be …" I was about to throw my hands up in the air. How appalling. It was my job, but they were both treating me like a damsel in distress. And worst of all, we were attracting curious stares from a few of the more sober kids at the frat boy table. I really didn't want to get fired after only two days at work.
"Quit worrying. Let's get this done so you can watch the game." He was right. Between the two of us and Mike trying not to get in the way, we were done in minutes. I lifted the pail, but Edward was faster, intercepting me before I could head to the janitor's closet. "Let me take care of this. Watch your section."
"Who was that?" Mike stared at Edward's retreating figure, both hands on his waist. Feeling bad for how Edward treated him, I apologised. "That's Edward, my roommate's brother."
"Weird. What's with those shoes? And that suit jacket. Where'd he come from? Outer Space?" He made a funny face. I guess Edward looked about as out of place as Mike did at Artie's, with his well-made clothes and immaculate appearance.
"He's a part-time musician. Performs here sometimes with his band." Someone at a nearby table shouted for the bill. "Be right back." I patted his arm and moved away. After collecting their payment, which at least included a good tip, I headed to the cash register at the bar. Behind me, I could hear the ESPN commentator's voice back on air. The restaurant began to teem with an anticipatory buzz, chairs scraping as customers got to their feet, jostling for the best view.
"Care to join me?" Edward draped an arm around the bar stool next to me. "I'll have a gin and tonic," he addressed the bartender, easing onto his usual seat at the bar. "What are you waiting for? Overtime's starting."
"I need to get back." Guilt plagued me as I struggled between taking some downtime and returning to my section. "I'm still on the clock." Not to forget, I just left Mike with a pack of angry wolves, ready to pounce if anything went wrong.
"It'll be over in no time." He nudged at the screen. "Hopefully," he added as an afterthought. "Sit." He pointed at the empty barstool next to him. My conscience prickled, but the invitation to catch a break was tempting.
Onscreen, the Huskies' offensive line began to take position on the field, and the camera zoomed in to a close-up shot of Jacob, before cutting away to a replay of his touchdown that drew us even with the Trojans. "I'm such a horrible friend." I leaned against the bar counter feeling absolutely morose. "I can't believe I missed almost all of Jake's first game."
Edward gave me a curious look. "You didn't miss much," he said after a pause. "He came on in the last ten minutes when one of the USC guys took out our tight-end."
"Tight end?" I thought Jacob was a quarterback.
"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures."
"Oh … I was wondering what he was doing in the end zone."
"He's absolutely killing it, by the way." I leaned against the bar stool next to Edward as he explained Jacob's plays. A perturbed frown crossed his face. "What the fuck?"
Instead of advancing the ball, our quarterback dropped back with two members of the Trojan defense closing in on him. Within seconds, he was brought down, and with it went our chance to score. The restaurant erupted in boos and jeers.
The botched play disrupted the Huskies' rhythm, and they ended up punting the ball. Minutes later when the Trojans launched an all out attack, our defense crumbled, and their star running back broke free and headed towards the goal line.
"Yeah!" An exuberant cheer cut through the deathly silence in the hall, drawing everyone's attention away from the game. At the back of the restaurant, Mike Newton was on his feet, punching his fist in the air, a flashing red beacon in an enemy sea.
"I think I need to rescue him." I took a step in Mike's direction, even though he now seemed aware of his momentary indiscretion and was trying to sidle into the shadows.
"Let him wait." Edward reached for my arm as he turned towards me. "He should know better, coming here in full USC colors."
"No, actually, I think he didn't." Mike could be incredibly naïve. I shook my head and attempted to free my arm. Edward raised an eyebrow as he noticed my expression and loosened his hold. "Okay." He leaned in close, murmuring in a voice so soft I almost couldn't hear him, "Come and find me backstage later. I've got something for you."
Mike was ensconced in the corner of my section when I found him, grinning from ear to ear. "Man, your QB totally gifted us. What was he thinking? Jake was wide open but the quarterback decided to go for glory." At least he wasn't mad at me for abandoning him.
"I think you better take this off." I tugged at his sweater.
"Sorry. I guess I was a little loud just now, huh?" He gave me a sheepish look and removed the offending item. "So, do you think you can join us later? Should be a ball given the win."
"Uhm, that's kinda difficult. I don't get off till eleven. Why don't you sit at the bar? Leah should be here soon."
He turned in the direction I was pointing, surveying the restaurant and finally noticing the stares and nasty vibes from the Husky supporters around us. "I guess I shouldn't overstay my welcome," he said with reluctance. "Call me when you end your shift? Maybe I can see you before we fly out tomorrow."
I was a little doubtful about that, but his expression was so earnest I found myself nodding.
"Bye, Bella." To my surprise, he leaned forward, and in full view of anyone who was watching, placed a chaste kiss on my lips.
I pulled away, stunned. A flurry of thoughts overran my mind. First and foremost was the imaginary headline: Bella Swan, caught consorting with the enemy! With that, my reputation and any credibility I was hoping for as an Artie's Girl was flushed down the toilet bowl.
Given how the game went, no one was sure if or when the team was going to show up. But eventually a few players straggled in around ten, their faces tight and colorless. Another group arrived minutes later, one of whom I recognized as Paul. His sullen countenance was in stark contrast to yesterday's ebullience. I was almost afraid to go near any of them, but I didn't have a choice in the matter. Sucking in my breath, I approached their table.
"Hi." I put on my best smile, hoping it at least seemed sincere. "Can I take your orders?"
It was ludicrous. No one was paying any attention.
"Shall I come back later?"
"No, it's fine," Paul spoke up. "Get us a jug of Bud."
"Make that two." An all-too-familiar voice rumbled close to my ear.
"Jake!" I spun around and almost walked straight into his chest. Enveloped in his musky, freshly-showered scent, I fought the ridiculous temptation to throw my arms around him and sink into his embrace. He's not talking to you, I reminded myself, and stepped back. Unfortunately, I was trapped between him and the table.
According to Artie's standard procedure, I was to check the over-21 stamp on customers' wrists before serving alcohol, which Jacob was fully aware of. He cocked an eyebrow and held my gaze, as if taunting me to follow the rules. Behind me I could feel the tables' eyes watching us and waiting for my response.
Jacob folded his arms, tapping his foot as I struggled for words. A fierce blush spread on my face and I turned my gaze to the floor.
"Here." For the second time in five minutes, Paul saved me, flashing a mischievous grin as he stuck out his wrist, appropriately stamped "Legal Eagle."
Giving him a grateful smile, I slipped past Jacob. "I'll get your orders."
A gaggle of fans and girlfriends were at the football table by the time I returned, including a suspiciously familiar looking blond sitting very close to Jacob. Holly? I wondered how she got out of her shift. Game day was the busiest time of the week at Artie's.
"Hey, Bella!" Her shrill voice welcomed me as I neared the table. I couldn't help but notice her hand on Jacob's lap.
"Your drinks." I dumped the two jugs of beer on their table, not even bothering to distribute the mugs or clear the tray. From the corner of my eye, Jacob shifted away when I approached—but maybe that was just my imagination. There was no excuse for him behaving like such a dick or allowing his coach's daughter to put her hands all over him. I sure wasn't staying to watch.
Scanning the restaurant, I searched for Leah. Unfortunately, there was no space in my section for Leah and her girl crew, and they were seated at a booth all the way up front. I was left to deal with two tables of surly, brooding jocks on my own. They were obviously planning to drink themselves to oblivion tonight, and I did my best to provide the minimum standard of service.
As soon as my shift ended, I made my way to the front. She welcomed me with a hug and pulled me onto her seat. Hopefully, that meant I was forgiven.
"What's up with Mr. Black Face?"
Leah took one look at my scowl and snickered. "Hah. Good one. You should go over and call him that."
"Tell me about it. It's like a fucking funeral over there."
"Ooh! Bella used the F-bomb!" Leah teased. "Yeah, I heard the coach gave them a huge dressing down. Lack of team play and all."
"That sucks." I changed the topic, not really keen to have anything more to do with the football team. "You ran into Mike at the stadium?"
"Yeah, did he find you?" She looked around, as if expecting to see him still at Artie's.
I nodded. "We watched the game for a while." I shared with her Mike's outburst when USC won the game but excluded the invitation to the House of Trojans and his traitorous peck.
"That's hilarious." Leah burst out in fits. "I figured he might get his ass kicked if he showed up here wearing his little red sweater."
"Leah!" I exclaimed. "Don't tell me you didn't even warn him? You're incorrigible!" Her reaction made me double down in laughter, but a small part of me felt sorry for Mike.
It was getting late, so I slipped out of her booth and headed to the locker room to change. The hallway was already bare of musical instruments. Was Edward still around? We had a light set tonight, and he only appeared once as the guest pianist for an auburn-haired lady with a mysterious, haunting voice. The light in the performers' room was still on, so I decided to knock just to make sure.
A slim, well-coiffured woman in a sequined dress opened the door, assessing me as she stepped aside. I realized she was the same singer who performed with Edward.
"Bella, hey." He was at the back of the room, standing behind his keyboard. "Come on in."
I took a few ginger steps inside, feeling the woman's eyes follow me. Edward moved towards the wardrobe, reaching into a satchel at the bottom. As he drew something out and stood up, I noticed the large bruise under his jaw, and the faintest trace of a cut on his lip.
"Sorry about last night." I pointed at his face. "Does it still hurt?"
He raised a finger to his chin as if it he'd forgotten. "Nah. I've had worse."
"That … that's good."
"This is for you." He placed something long and slim in my hands. It was a brightly colored book. Popular Piano: Teach Yourself to Play. My mouth slipped open in surprise.
"Alice told me you have a piano in your common room. You can try out the exercises there."
"You're welcome." He smiled as I stammered my thanks. His lip twitched, as though there was something else at the tip of his tongue he was holding back.
"Ahem." We both turned at the same time when Miss Mysterious coughed. She had an ugly scowl on her face.
"Oh, Flo, this is Bella Swan. Alice's roommate." He gestured towards me. "Bella, this is Florence, an old friend from Yale."
I didn't like the look on Florence's face. Her body language made me uncomfortable, as if I was intruding on something private. "I... I should go."
Florence let out a throaty laugh. "I see how it is now, Eddie. It's that hard for you to call me your girlfriend, huh?" She slinked to my side and placed a manicured hand on my shoulder. "And this is how young you roll these days? How old are you, Bella?" The snideness in her voice was so thick it made my skin crawl.
"Florence, leave her out of this." Edward took two strides towards us and tried to pry her fingers away. To my utter shock, she fell to the floor in a crumpled heap and started bawling.
"Fuck, I'm sorry … " Edward got to his knees, wrapping his arms around her. He cast an apologetic look my way as I pushed the door open with my back and darted out of the room. Breathing deeply, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. It felt like I just violated an intimate moment between two lovers not meant for my eyes.
"What the hell are you doing there?"
I knew the voice. It belonged to the last person on earth I felt like dealing with at that moment. Jacob stood across the hallway, hands thrust in his bomber jacket, an insouciant air about him as he crossed one leg behind the other. There was something else hiding underneath his cocksure appearance, but I was too tired to dig it out of him.
"I heard Mike Newton was here earlier—in full Trojan colors." There was a nasty inflexion to his voice. Whatever he felt about Mike, I didn't feel he had the right to speak about him like that.
"Yeah? So what?" I shook my head and turned towards the staff dressing room.
His hand shot out, gripping my right arm in a vice so tight I could feel the callous pads of his fingers pressing into my skin.
"Sorry." He must have noticed my grimace. Relaxing his hold, he asked, "Did I hurt you?" Concern flashed across his face.
"Go back to your boys, Jacob. And Miss Hadley." I made sure I injected Holly's last name with all the venom I could summon.
"Fuck, Bells, don't be like this." His tone softened. "Can we talk?" The desperation in his voice stopped me in my tracks. Somewhere in there, I heard my best friend. He took a few slow, cautious steps, until I felt his breath against my hair and the back of his hand tentatively flirting with my palm.
"I ... I'm sorry. I was just ... " He took a deep breath. "I was just jealous of Mike, okay?" His fingers threaded through mine, and my heart skipped a beat.
"We're just friends." I was ready to forgive him, but annoyance still crept into my voice.
"I … I know, Bells." He held my hand a little tighter. "I'm just a jealous fuck because I really care about you. It … it makes me mad whenever I see Mike or any guy trying to make any moves on you."
"Well"—I shifted my weight from one foot to the other—"I can take care of myself, Jake." I didn't need any reminder of Jacob's possessiveness.
"Yes, you can. I know you can." That was a different tone from last night, I thought to myself. "But I want to take care of you too." His voice turned into a throaty whisper, and all of a sudden my heart began pounding in my chest.
"Bells," he murmured into my ear, lips brushing against my hair. "I did it all wrong yesterday. I just wanted to say ... " He hesitated, but seemed to gain confidence when I tightened my hold on his hand. "Bells, I love you." The tenderness in his voice soaked and soothed my raw nerves. "Always have. You know that, don't you?" His free hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me towards him.
"Bella, will you … be mine?" Tears welled in my eyes as I turned to face him. I was too emotional to speak, but I guess the look in my eyes told him everything he needed to know. With gentle fingers, he cradled my face in his hand before leaning in to kiss me. At last, we did it right. It was short, chaste, and a little salty, but it was a giant step in our relationship.
The door swung violently behind us. From the corner of my eye I saw Florence storm out towards the back exit, Edward following after her. They didn't even notice us.
"That Edward?" At my nod, Jacob asked, "Then who was that girl?"
"Um," I thought for a second before answering, "his girlfriend."
A/N *deep breath* How was it? Did you enjoy the ride? Were you expecting this?
I thoroughly enjoyed writing every word, especially "momentary indiscretion."
Florence was drawn from my current musical inspiration, Florence & the Machine. In fact, I wrote most of this listening to Lungs and Ceremonials. Don't you love her? Though I'm sure Florence Welsh is nothing like Miss Mysterious in this story.
If you even liked this one bit, please let me know! Leelator and I put hours and days into this—me writing and her editing. It would be nice if you sent us a word.
Thank you for reading! And please read my oneshot Wrong! www()fanfiction()net/s/8335907/1/Wrong (replace () with a dot)