Big thank you to everyone who's jumped on board with this story! I'm trying my best to respond to as many reviews as possible. As always, it comes down to how much time I get on my laptop (and to be one hundred percent transparent, a lot of that time is spent on actually writing).
To give you guys a status update, I've already written all the way through chapter ten and done at least the first round of editing through chapter eight. So there is plenty ready to go and headed your way.
Also, for those of you who read and enjoyed The Alias, it is up for March top ten on . Remember you can vote every day :)
As for right now, y'all ready for a day at the beach?
Rosalie parks in front of Jane's house- an ex-cheerleader who got pregnant by her jackass of a boyfriend last year. He took off for Auburn after graduation while she got left behind. We knock on her door and ask her mama if Jane wants to go to the beach with us, just to be nice. She balances the baby on her hip and says Jane's at work- she's got a mouth to feed now. As we take off, I tell Rosalie that she better make Emmett wrap it up, or that will be her next.
The stretch of beach near Jane's isn't filled with as many tourists, and it's where everyone we know goes this time of year. Rosalie and I walk through the dunes, picking a spot where the sand is dry, but we're close enough to the water that no one will set up in front of us.
She stretches her towel on the sand beside mine and turns her Bluetooth speaker on, scrolling her phone until Miranda Lambert croons through the device. I lather on coconut-scented sunscreen, thirty SPF. I have enough of a base that I won't burn with less protection. Rosalie says she won't need any for another hour at least. I envy her golden brown blemish-free skin and glare at my own, sort of no longer sickly-pale, thighs.
"So you wanna tell me what happened last night?" I lie on my stomach and fold my hands under my head, facing her direction.
She sighs, shielding her eyes from the sun's bright glare, and rolls her head toward me. "He was sweet. Apologizin' for gettin' angry. Promised me that he'll let it go, but I had to say that I won't rebound with his cousin if we ever break up again."
"I think that's fair," I laugh.
"Then we climbed in the back seat of his truck and went at it like animals." She's got a satisfied smirk because she knows I hate hearing this part, and she loves getting under my skin.
"That's disgustin'."
She props herself on her elbows, so she's looking down at me. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Word is you did leave with Edward Cullen. Old habits die hard?"
She's a cocky bitch, and I want to reach over and slap her. "You ditched me. I needed a ride, and he was my only option."
"Uh-huh."
"Fine. Don't believe me. Whatever." I turn my head to watch seagulls stalking a family down the beach.
The song playing over the speaker switches to one about getting drunk and acting stupid. Rosalie hums along for a minute while she thinks up ways to torture me, eventually saying, "You still like him?"
I roll grains of sand through my fingers, letting them fall and form a tiny hill. "I don't know him."
"He's hot, now," she states the obvious.
I shrug. "He was hot before."
"He was gangly before."
"You flirted with him."
She scoffs, and her shadow covers my back when she sits up to flick the strap of my bikini top. "No, I didn't."
I rise to my elbows and turn my head in her direction. "Yeah, you did. The summer he left. We were all in the market by the docks, and you and Jessica came in. You asked me where he was and then went over to talk to him. You stuck your tits out, batted your lashes, and made a fool of yourself."
"Dear lord in Heaven, Bella. What were we, freshmen? How the hell do you even remember that?"
Grumbling under my breath, I stand and face the water. "I'm goin' in."
"Whatever." Rosalie waves me off, more interested in a text that just popped up on her phone than my whereabouts.
Tiny pastel clams kick up with the sand as I step into the receding water. I watch as they wash a few inches away, then use their tongues to dig back under the ground, only to be uncovered by the next wave a few seconds later. In my mind, I calculate what mix of oil pastels I could put on paper to mimic the pinks, oranges, and blues that nature blessed them with.
The water laps around my knees as I wade in further, and when I'm deep enough that the swells of the waves pass my hips and hit my bare stomach, I shiver from the cool temperature of the Atlantic water. Rosalie is still stretched across her towel but now on her stomach, holding her phone and typing a response to whoever she's talking to. My best guess is Emmett.
A few little kids nearby squeal as they run in and out of the shallower waves. Another family joins the parents, their young son carrying a bodyboard over his shoulder. To the North, a middle-aged man is taking down his fishing gear as more families appear from their vacation rental homes across the street.
I untie my hair and dunk under the next wave, letting the strands push back from my face as I reappear and wipe the salt water from my eyes. A piece of seaweed sticks to my fingers, and I have to pluck it off and then fling it back into the water. I repeat my game with the waves until my fingers begin to prune, and I'm tired of the floating sea grass tickling me under the surface. As I wring out my hair and step around a collection of shells trapped in the sand, I realize Rosalie is no longer alone.
Emmett and a few members of his crew have joined us. Jasper and Mike set up a cooler and chairs behind our towels while Emmett reaches for Rosalie's speaker, disconnecting it from her phone to connect it to his.
There's no sign that anyone else will join us, and disappointment floods through me. It's stupid. There was no reason to believe that Edward would randomly show up, but I prepared myself so well for his appearance that I'm pissed he didn't magically spawn somewhere on this stretch of beach.
Mike is the first to notice me. His eyes rake over my body, and I regret wearing the skimpiest suit I own.
He gives me his "Hey, baby" smile but says, "Hey, Bella" instead.
"What's up?" I try to make it clear I'm disinterested as I reach for my towel to dry off.
"The boys decided to join us," Rosalie informs me, as if I'm some sort of moron, and I can't see that for myself. Emmett starts playing rap. I give him the side-eye.
"Yeah, I noticed."
Rosalie raises her brows and grins. It's the same look she gave me last night when she knew she had gossip I didn't. "No. All the boys."
"All of 'em?" My voice squeaks. She can't mean what I think she means.
I look across the sand toward the dunes, and my next question sticks on my tongue. He's here. A grocery bag dangles from one wrist as he flips his keys in his free hand. My throat goes dry while I stand and stare, ocean water dripping down me until it falls in fat plops onto the sand. I'm frozen as I scan his impressive body. He's covered only in board shorts that show off his defined abs and the chiseled V above his waistband. Whatever happened in Atlanta, the boy got in shape. Fourteen-year-old Edward never had muscles like this.
A warmth of nostalgia runs through me when I notice that one thing hasn't changed. The old tattered Florida State baseball cap sits on top of his head. Curls of auburn hair peek from the bottom. A shadow caused by the brim shields his eyes, but for a moment, I imagine him looking at me, seeing me.
I can't tell if he's spotted me staring, but if he hasn't, I don't want to give him a chance to, so I break myself out of my stupor and walk a few steps away from the group to shake the sand from my towel.
"Got what you asked for." Edward's voice sends a vibration through me that I try to ignore as I set my towel back down beside Rosalie. I lie on my stomach, remembering too late that my ass is on serious display and Mike is leering at me. I keep my eyes trained on the water. I'll accept Mike's stares if I get Edward's too.
"Hey, Bella, you want one?" Emmett asks, holding a light beer in my direction. I shake my head. Beer's not my thing, plus I had enough alcohol last night. I don't need more at eleven am.
Rosalie doesn't feel the same way I do and happily accepts the drink Emmett offers. Soon he's sprawled out face up on the other side of her. His shirt is off, and his hands rest behind his head as he soaks in the sun's rays. Emmett is muscular like Edward but broader, with more bulk in his arms. He's exactly Rosalie's type- a little too caveman for me.
"Hey, Newton, think fast." I turn to see Edward snap a football at Mike's head. It bounces off his skull and lands in the sand by his feet.
I swear Mike growls before muttering, "What the fuck, Cullen?" and jumping up, rocketing the ball back to Edward, who is running across the sand. I watch the lean muscles of Edward's legs work as he picks up speed until he reaches the perfect spot, catching the ball and cradling it in his arm as he pretends to make a touchdown.
"And the crowd goes wild," Jasper snarks from his beach chair behind us. He lifts his beer to his lips before tilting his head toward me, a few strands of his wavy blond hair falling into his face. "The view is great today. Don't you think, Bella?" He makes a show of tilting his sunglasses down and staring at my ass for a few seconds. I flip him off.
I dig my sunglasses out of my bag and slide them on before rolling over so the pale skin of my stomach faces the sun. It's always the hardest part of my body to tan, probably because my legs and arms are bare in sundresses, tanks, and shorts, but my midriff isn't- unless it's a crop top, which I have plenty off shoved in the back of my closet, hidden from Charlie.
After a minute, the repetitive thwack of the football stops, and a can opens from somewhere behind me. My eyes are closed, hiding from the sun's glare, but when I sense someone standing nearby, I crack a lid and peek up.
"Mind if I sit?" Edward stands above me, holding a towel and gesturing to the open spot on the sand next to me.
I shrug. "It's a free country."
"Great," he mumbles, irritated with my snarkiness, but lays his towel down and sits anyway. My sunglasses hide my one open eye as I admire his long legs stretched out in front of him and watch as he lifts his can of beer to his mouth, sipping then licking the remaining liquid off his lips.
My core tightens and tingles, and I turn my head toward Rosalie, desperate to cut off this connection my body thinks it has to a boy who wants me as nothing more than an old acquaintance.
"Then coach made us run six laps." Emmett is complaining, his arms gesturing wildly as he gets more irate over what he sees as an undeserved punishment. I know Emmett. I can guarantee it wasn't undeserved.
"Why are y'all practicin' for baseball? It's July. Your season's over." Rosalie's finally lathering up with sunscreen. Although, I think she's rubbing it across her skin more for Emmett's benefit than hers.
"If we aren't playin' a fall sport, we gotta work out with the team until next spring. We're not throwin' or hittin' much yet, just runnin' and weights. Stuff to keep us in shape."
"So, what'd you do that earned you six laps?" I ask.
Jasper snorts, and I turn back to look at him. "It's Emmett," he explains. "What didn't he do."
"Hey, that's not fair." Emmett points to his friend in warning. "Coach gave us suggestions for workouts. I didn't like the one he gave me, so I made up my own."
"Emmett's workout involved joggin' to the donut store, eatin' breakfast, and goin' back to the field to stretch instead of hittin' the weight room," Rosalie says, flipping on her stomach and handing Emmett the bottle of sunscreen to spread on her back. He starts near her ass, dipping his fingertips under her suit before she bats his hands away with a scowl.
"Punishment didn't fit the crime." I can't tell if Emmett's talking about coach Greene making him run laps or Rosalie's silent scolding. I lie down while he finishes Rosalie's shoulders, behaving this time. We're quiet for a minute, the bass of the rap replacing our conversation, until another thought pops into Emmett's head. "Hey Ed, you comin' back to practice soon?"
This earns another snort from Jasper. I look to my right just in time to catch Edward flinch and then take a drink of his beer. "Don't call me Ed."
"Awe, come on, man. Edward is a fuckin' grandpa's name. We gotta get somethin' better."
"How 'bout Eddie?" Mike pipes up with a laugh.
"You wanna lose your balls, Newton?" There's tension between Edward and Mike as they stare each other down.
"Whatever, Eddie." Mike sits back in his chair, satisfied at getting under Edward's skin. Edward's hand curls in a fist, and his jaw ticks, but he seems to think better of beating the shit out of Mike and turns toward the water.
A new rap song comes on, and Emmett yells to Jasper to "turn it up" before he starts reciting lyrics and dancing, overall making a fool of himself.
"Good Lord, I can't be a part of this," I announce, rising to my feet. "Rosalie, you wanna walk with me?"
She flips her hair over her shoulder, looks down the beach, back to me, then says, "Not really," with a sorry-about-that shrug.
"Fine. I'm goin' for a walk. I'll see y'all later." I turn on my heel and head toward the water's edge, where the sand is cool and firm, easier to walk on.
"Bella, Wait." Edward catches up to me before I have a chance to wave him off. My invitation to join me was open for Rosalie, not everyone. Not Edward.
I stop, letting the shallow water rush over my ankles. "What?"
"I'm gonna walk with you." He lifts his cap and runs a hand through his hair before flipping it around and placing it on his head backward. How is it that such a simple act makes him even hotter?
I focus on a shell stuck to my toe. If I look at him, I'm liable to do something stupid- like kiss him. "You don't need to. I'm fine on my own."
"I want to, and no, you're not."
I'm not? Who the hell is he? My babysitter? I cross my arms and bitch-brow him. "What the hell do you mean I'm not?"
"Bella, come on," he pleads. I throw my hands up in a "what" gesture, making him roll his eyes and tilt his head toward the sky. When he looks back at me, he levels me with the glare of a man that means business. It's unnerving. "Bella, half your ass is hangin' out of that excuse for a suit that you have on, and there's a group of college guys down there talkin' about you and Rose in a way I don't think you'd like too much."
My eyes follow the direction he points to, where some guys are getting rowdy about twenty yards away from our friends. "How d'you know they're talkin' about us?"
"Because when I was playin' football with Mike, I overheard 'em."
My mouth twists in displeasure both at the college guys and Edward's interference. But then a thought hits me that I don't have the self-control to keep to myself. "Maybe I want 'em to notice me. Have you thought about that?"
"I know you're lyin'." He narrows his eyes.
"You don't know anything about me, Edward Cullen." Deciding that's my mic drop, I square my shoulders and walk away- to walk past the frat boys.
I don't really want their attention. I mean, it's nice and all to know that guys look at you that way- think you're fuckable- but I'm not that girl. Edward doesn't know this. Because, like I said, he doesn't know me anymore.
"Jesus Christ," he curses before following after me and glaring at one of the guys who catcalls as I walk by, swinging my hips. "You've got some devil in you. You know that?"
"Just call me a sinner." I give Edward my best eat-shit smile. "And stop talkin' to preacher McCarty."
"You still go to church?" Small talk again. I forgot. That's who we are now.
"Not since Mama left."
He steps on the sharp edge of a shell and hisses as he limps along next to me since I won't slow down. "I'm sorry about that."
"Was it your fault?" I laugh. I hate it when people tell me they're sorry. It's Renee's fault she's a horrible person, not theirs.
"No, I don't think so." He's walking normally again, so I assume he'll survive his injury.
"Why aren't you goin' to baseball practice?" I slow to navigate around a couple of dead jellyfish that have washed ashore. He sucks air between his teeth and follows me around the sea creatures but doesn't answer.
Raising my brows, I look up at him, expecting an explanation, but he's watching the waves, ignoring me.
"Alright, Edward." I change direction, turning back the way we came. I have no interest in playing this game with him.
But he's ready for my tantrum and catches my elbow, stopping me. "Don't do this."
"Don't do what?" I snatch my arm away and prop my hand on my hip. "Ask questions?"
He's silent, so I scoff and keep walking, trekking back to the group and picking up my pace. I don't want to be alone with him anymore.
"Bella, stop." He has to run to get in front of me and block my path. I roll my eyes and attempt to step around him, but he won't let me pass.
"This is childish, Edward."
"Hey, sweetheart. This guy bothering you?" I don't realize we're in front of Sigma Alpha Epsilon's finest until it's too late. Two of the neon-short-wearing, Corona-drinking douchebags are descending on us.
Edward knows he's outmanned, throwing me a glance that stops me from arguing as he places an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight.
My lashes flutter, and my breath hitches as the hard muscles of his obliques press against my side. My breast rests against his ribs, and his hand holds my bare shoulder in a solid grip. I turn toward him, breathing in the scent of soap, sunscreen, and something so uniquely Edward that I want to scream.
"Naw, man, My girlfriend's pissy 'cause I threw seaweed at her," Edward says, his mouth curving into a smirk, like these guys are his boys, and they'll understand how unreasonable chicks are.
"That true?" The guy in pink shorts asks me.
All I can think to say is, "Seaweed's gross."
The three boys exchange head nods as the frat guys back down, accepting Edward's bullshit.
I have to remind myself I'm angry, and it's stupid to be sad when Edward's arm drops from around me. "Bella, I'm sorry." He steps back, giving me the space I so desperately need so I can think.
"It's fine. You don't owe me anything," I say, heading back to our group at a slower pace so as not to alarm the college boys again.
"I wanna talk to you. Just…" Edward glances around us, stopping to watch a toddler run by and throw a shovel full of sand at his sister. "Not here."
"Okay…" I stop and bury my toes in the sand when we're close to being in earshot of our group.
"Tonight. I'm supposed to go back to Jasper's with the boys, but can you get out of the house after?"
"My curfew is twelve."
He nods, "I'll be by at eleven. We can go somewhere where no one's listenin'."
I mimic his movement but can't meet his eyes as we rejoin Rosalie, Emmett, and the other boys. All I wanted was to talk to Edward, but now that I know I'll have the chance, I'm terrified to hear what he has to say.
A/N: Are you ready to hear what Edward has to say?
Alright, guys, barring a natural disaster, I'm going to get chapter five out to you this weekend. It's a heavier one, and we get a good insight into what's going on with Edward.
*If you haven't yet clicked follow down below, I encourage you to do so because I promise you're going to want to know when chapter five comes out.
See you this weekend ;)