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Special thanks to my PTB Beta's: Jennrosee and blahblahblah. I'm taking y'all out for skinny girl 'ritas!
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. RPattz and FanFic own me. No copyright infringement or plagiarism is intended.
EPOV
Monday starts out uneventful. Yet again, I sleep later than I should. I drag my lazy ass downstairs around one o'clock in the afternoon and find a note from Esme on the kitchen counter.
Edward,
Your father and I are taking Bella to her orientation today. Your brother is with Rose.
We will be gone all day and likely have dinner in the city. Call my cell if you would like to join us.
Love,
Mom
Normally, I would throw the note in the trash without a second thought and head to Jazz's house for the night. But dinner in the city - with Bella - sounds like an intriguing idea. She isn't like anyone I have met before. She fascinates me. I still have so many questions about her past, her family, and her positive outlook on life. Maybe tonight is a good opportunity to get to know her a little better.
Wait, what am I thinking? Carlisle will be there.
I sigh, frustrated, and rub my hands over my face and into my hair. It will probably irritate him to no end if I show up.
I start to weigh my options. Is it worth aggravating Carlisle just to spend more time with Bella? Surely he and I can be civil to each other for one night, can't we? I mean, he won't start an argument with me in a crowded restaurant, but sitting at the same table with him will still be awkward. Maybe I can just ignore him, and focus on being polite and friendly to Bella.
I begin to form a plan.
If Carlisle sees I'm playing nice with the good girl next door, maybe I can score some points with the doctor. Perhaps Bella and I can even be friends. Certainly Carlisle will like that – me spending time with someone like Bella. He detests Jasper. Maybe befriending somebody who is Jazz's polar opposite will help level the playing field. Besides, I wouldn't mind spending more time with Bella. Furthermore, if a person like Bella thinks I'm worthy of their friendship, maybe Carlisle will see I'm not all bad.
Virtuous by association.
The whole situation might actually work to my benefit.
I pull my phone from my pocket and send Esme a quick text.
BPOV
Thank God that's over.
I spent the better part of the morning filling out page after page of new student paperwork. There were medical waivers, non-disclosure agreements, contracts, releases - on and on for hours. Then, I had an hour long meeting with the Director of Education outlining the state's academic requirements to graduate. Basically, I would spend four hours a day in the classroom fulfilling my scholastic requirements, and the remaining four hours in the dance studio. In my experience, studio classes always run over. So that meant eight to nine hours a day I would be at the school with any homework or independent dance practice to be done after that.
Yup, there goes my social life.
Yeah, right. What social life?
After my class schedule and textbooks were finally straightened out, I met with Victoria to discuss the requirements for my studio classes. Luckily, she doesn't adhere to a strict dress code for dance class, so my old workout clothes from Phoenix should be alright for this year. Unfortunately, I will have to purchase new Bloch lyrical dance shoes before Wednesday.
As soon as we finished at the school, Esme and Carlisle took me straight to the nearest dancewear store. I was only planning on purchasing the shoes, but Esme insisted on buying me an entire new dance wardrobe. I tried to politely refuse, saying they had done enough for me already, but when Esme turned the full force of her mother's guilt on me - something about never having a daughter of her own to dress up - I caved.
Next stop was to pick up the loaner car Charlie arranged for me. It's nothing fancy, a small two-door, navy blue Honda Civic. I wasn't surprised to find a state-of-the-art GPS system, twenty-four hour road side assistance, a full size spare tire, and a set of snow-chains were already included. Typical Charlie, still worried about his little girl in the big city. Actually, it was kind of sweet.
Three hours, one new car, and four massive shopping bags later, we are finally on our way to dinner.
"Cullen. Party of four," Carlisle informs the hostess as we enter the restaurant.
She plasters a fake smile on her face. "Yes, Mr. Cullen. I believe the rest of your party has already arrived."
"Four?" I look at Esme, confused.
"Yes, dear. Edward has decided to join us for dinner."
Edward!
Oh God, this is embarrassing.
Not only did he see me half-naked last night, I'm pretty sure he noticed I could barely form a complete sentence while I was gawking at his bare chest. When I opened the door and saw him standing there, it was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be real. I was afraid that he might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke. And it was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined the lustful way his eyes had looked. Maybe the whole incident was just a very convincing dream that I'd confused with reality. That seemed more probable than that I really appealed to him on any level.
Honestly, Edward has been in the back of my mind all day. I am trying to reconcile the Edward I met my first night at the Cullens' and the Edward I spent the afternoon with yesterday. The two don't add up. When he showed up late for dinner, his curt display when he walked me through the dance studio, and then again in the bookstore yesterday, I was starting to suspect he'd prefer to ignore my existence altogether.
"Oh please, Edward is an ass," Rosalie blurted out. During the first night I had dinner with the Cullen's Edward hadn't shown up yet, and Emmett was trying to text him secretly when Esme left the room. "You know he's with Jasper, and he doesn't give a shit about hurting Esme's feelings or being rude to Bella."
It was as if a switch had flipped when I walked out of the bookstore. I was shocked when he invited me to lunch. I'm sure he saw my dazed expression when he asked me to join him. For a moment, I thought he was playing some kind of cruel joke.
At first, I was afraid eating lunch with a complete stranger was going to be awkward, but I was surprised how easy he was to talk to. The Edward from the café wasn't the same person I had met the night before or who Rosalie had described. He was insightful and funny and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. And now he was here, having dinner with me, and Carlisle and Esme, of course.
I feel my stomach twist at the thought of seeing him again. Not only am I unsure which Edward will be here tonight – the one that is kind and friendly or the one who prefers I don't exist – I'm also going to have to sit across the table from him and act like I didn't see his half-naked body last night. That I didn't notice the small splattering of blonde hair that covered his chiseled chest. That I didn't notice the way his hipbones dipped into a "V" just above the unbuttoned jeans slung low around his hips. That I hadn't fantasized about running my fingers over his abs as he pushed me back against the door, tearing off my towel and -
"Here we are," the hostess chimes, ripping me from my vivid daydream.
I glance around, realizing she has led us to a small, round table near the back of the restaurant. The room is dimly lit with only soft candlelight flickering from each table. The burgundy carpet and russet wood paneling of the walls merely add to the darkness. The tables that surround us are filled with people: couples enjoying romantic dinners, impeccably dressed women gabbing about the latest town gossip, men in suits and ties, likely business executives, enjoying a nice meal after a busy day at the office.
I'm instantly grateful I decided to dress up for my meeting with Victoria today; my deep plum colored dress is great for an evening out. The wrap style is very flattering, though it's a little low cut in the front, but looks nice when I dress it up with strappy sandals and jewelry.
I see Edward stand when he hears the hostess announce our approach.
Geez! He looks like a model!
The ratty jeans and t-shirts I'm used to seeing him wear are gone. He's actually wearing a suit; a dark, navy-blue dress shirt tucked into a pair of tailored charcoal-gray slacks. His suit jacket is carefully wrapped around the back of the chair behind him.
My jaw unwillingly falls open at the site of him, and I have to force my mouth shut.
Damn it, he saw that.
His lips curl into that dangerous, crooked smile, the same smile he gave me last night when I openly stared at the muscular lines of his bare shoulders as he leaned against the door and I wanted to – God! Get a grip!
"Edward," Carlisle greets him coldly as he pulls out the chair for Esme to sit.
Edward doesn't respond; he just nods and looks away. There is something going on with these two, but I can't figure it out. Carlisle is always so hostile when he addresses Edward. Maybe I can ask Emmett… or Rosalie.
"Hello, Bella." I look away from Carlisle to Edward and notice he has pulled out the chair next to him for me to sit. I take my seat as he gently glides my chair toward the table. My imagination must still be running wild. I swear I can feel his fingers graze my back as he returns to his seat.
The waitress appears, places a basket of bread on the table, and takes our drink orders. Edward lifts the bread basket and holds it toward me, offering me the first piece.
"So, Bella," he says as I take a slice of warm bread, "how was orientation?"
I can't look at him. My mind still flashes with images of him outside the bathroom last night. Instead, I focus on tearing apart the hunk of bread in my hand.
"Um… it was OK. I mean, a lot of paperwork to fill out. I never want to write my name again." I roll my eyes and hear Edward quietly chuckle.
So far, so good. He doesn't seem embarrassed about last night.
"And did you get to meet your dance partner… ah… I'm sorry, what was his name again?"
"Jacob, and no, not 'til tomorrow."
The waitress returns with our drinks and asks if we are ready to order or entrées. I have been so preoccupied evaluating Edward's behavior that I haven't even opened my menu. Of course the waitress looks to me first, waiting for my selection.
"Oh… um…" I stumble, nervously glancing over the calligraphy text on the menu. What kind of restaurant is this? They don't even have prices on this menu.
I'm about to give up and just order a house salad when I feel something gently touch my arm. I look down at Edward's fingers as they wrap around my wrist. Slowly, I lift my eyes to his face. He's leaning toward me with a mischievous expression. His smoldering green eyes dance in the candlelight.
My breath catches in my throat. I'm drawn to him, as if in a trance, and I lean into his gaze. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip before he speaks, and I nearly come undone.
"Do you like mushrooms?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, as if our exchange is some great secret.
"Yes," I say softly.
His eyes shift from left to right as he leans in closer. "Do you trust me?"
Although I'm completely confused by this conversation, I can't help but giggle at his playful expression.
"Yes," I answer again.
Edward straightens up abruptly and addresses the waitress. "She'll have the mushroom ravioli."
At least, I think that's what he said. My mind is fixated on his hand, still resting on my forearm. As he continues to speak, ordering his own serving of ravioli and listening to the catalog of salad dressings available for us to choose, he begins softly stroking his thumb back and forth against my skin. I don't think he's even aware he's doing it.
"Bella? Is that alright?"
Hearing my name startles me back into the conversation. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I ordered you the house dressing for your salad. Is that alright?" Edward repeats.
"Oh… yes, of course. You did pretty well with lunch yesterday, so I trust you. You do realize you just raised the bar though, right?" I tease, praying his fingertips can't feel how my pulse is racing beneath my skin.
He chuckles and squeezes my arm gently before releasing it to reach for his drink. He doesn't seem aware that his touch has left me completely flustered and unnerved.
I sneak a cautious glance at Carlisle and Esme, wondering what they think about our friendly exchange. They are both staring at Edward, but with completely different expressions on their faces. Esme looks at him like any proud mother, beaming at her well-mannered son, but Carlisle looks - pissed. He's glaring at Edward as if he is an uninvited stranger at our table. I cringe at his hostile expression, instantly thankful it's not directed at me.
Carlisle and Esme order their entrees, and the waitress collects our menus and saunters off toward the kitchen.
Esme unfolds her napkin, gently placing it in her lap, and leans her arms on the table. "What's this about lunch yesterday?" she inquires, completely failing in her attempt to sound casual.
"Um… well, Edward and I ran into each other at the bookstore yesterday, and he treated me to lunch at the café. I took his recommendations on what to order and, so far, he hasn't let me down." I cast a quick glance at Edward. He's smiling warmly at me, seemingly unaware of his father's angry stare.
"Well that was nice." Esme continues to beam at him.
For the rest of the evening, the conversation flows freely between Esme, Edward and myself. Carlisle doesn't speak at all. I try to keep myself from glancing in his direction, afraid of what I might see, but my curiosity occasionally overpowers my best intentions and I peek. Without fail, he continues to glower at his son.
Between Carlisle's hostility and Edward's friendly conversation, I completely forget my embarrassment over the bathroom incident the night before. That is until Esme asks if we have enough towels in our bathroom upstairs or if she needs to get us a few more. I think Edward is going to choke on the sip of water he has taken from his glass at the exact moment Esme poses her question; I know my cheeks flush bright red.
The night progresses, and Edward and I slip away into our own conversation, talking and laughing, almost forgetting Carlisle and Esme are seated at the same table with us. He asks me a million more questions about my life in Phoenix, my friends there, my father, my mother and her new husband. In turn, I grill him about living in Seattle and his school. This time he actually answers my questions without dodging them as he did yesterday.
I begin to realize we actually have a lot in common. We talk about books we've read and discover we like many of the same authors. Edward even offers to loan me some of his favorite novels when I'm "finished crushing on Mr. Darcy." We have a mutual hatred for reality TV, but are both diehard Lost fanatics – though I argue my dressing as Kate last Halloween, complete with Dharma jumpsuit, made me the bigger fan. I had to promise to show him the picture before he would agree.
Edward is surprised to learn we both like a lot of the same music. He confesses that all the techno beats he heard coming from my playlist yesterday, he had me pegged for a Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Justin Timberlake kinda girl. That led to a heated fifteen minute discussion about how someone can, in fact, like those artists and still be a fan of Incubus, The Killers, Modest Mouse and Franz Ferdinand.
I can tell Edward is very passionate when it comes to music. His eyes sparkle and his face lights up when we discuss a song or band that he loves. And if I mention a song he doesn't care for, his arguments are never simply "that song sucks." They are calculated, intelligent. He says things like, "that song is so desperate to prove its own authenticity it forgets to be remotely moving."
We had to agree to disagree on that one.
Toward the end of the night, I start to realize just how much I enjoy spending time with Edward. We have talked and laughed for over two hours. It's as if we have known each other for years instead of just a few days. I'm starting to think we can even be friends.
Maybe more.
My stomach flips at the thought. It is no secret to me that I'm attracted to him. Any girl in their right mind would be. And tonight would have been a perfect date – if Carlisle hadn't been starring daggers at him, of course. It was so weird.
We finish dinner, everyone declining desert, and Carlisle pays the check. Edward and I are still talking as the four of us make our way out of the restaurant. As we wait for the valet to bring Carlisle's car around, I notice it must have rained while we were having dinner. The street is now lined with black puddles, and the air outside is damp and cool. It whips through my hair, and I'm immediately trying to tame it back, tucking it behind my ears and away from my face. That only solves the problem for a second; the unrelenting wind continues to wreak havoc on my long curls.
I catch Edward watching me, and he grins at my plight.
"One of these days I'm gonna chop it all off," I threaten.
"Don't do that." He looks away, as if he's embarrassed. "I like it," he adds softly. I smile at his compliment.
Before the mass can get any more tangled, I gather my hair together at the base of my neck and swiftly loop it into a knot. It's only a temporary solution, but it will contain the disarray on my head until I can get inside again.
"Nice work, MacGyver," he teases. I playfully punch his shoulder.
The valet returns with Carlisle's car. He hops out of the driver's seat and rushes around the front of the car to open both the front and rear passenger side doors.
"Bella, would you like to ride home with me?" Edward asks. "I'm sure you've had enough of the parents and their elevator music for one day."
"No," Carlisle interjects loudly, speaking for the first time all evening. Once again, I have been so absorbed in Edward that I forgot his parents were with us, watching our playful exchange. "She has her own car now."
Edward looks down at his feet. "Right, of course."
If I didn't know any better, I would think Edward looks… disappointed. For a moment, I wonder if it's in reaction to Carlisle's sudden scolding or the knowledge that I can't ride with him. Regardless, whether I have my own car or not, it is clear by Carlisle's tone that he doesn't want me anywhere near Edward. What the hell is going on with these two?
"Actually, Edward, would you mind if I followed you home?" I ask, cautiously glancing between him and Carlisle. "I'm still a little unsure of my way around." Remember to hide the stupid GPS.
Edward offers me a kind smile. He must know I'm trying to rescue him from Carlisle's harsh glare. "Of course that would be fine," he says.
"Thanks, I'm parked over this way." I gesture toward the dark street.
"Well, I guess we'll see you guys at home. You kids be careful!" Esme calls after us.
Edward places his hand on the small of my back and guides me through the parking lot, weaving through the shadowy maze of empty cars and rain puddles. The lighthearted mood from dinner seems to evaporate as we walk. I glance up at Edward's face, then quickly look away. He appears to be thinking very hard about something.
I couldn't think of anything except that he was touching me again. He's so close now that I can sense his presence all over my body. I can smell his musky cologne, a unique amaretto scent, hard to describe but extremely pleasing. I can feel his arm brush against my side as he walks, matching my slow pace. I feel the butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach.
All too soon we are standing next to my car. I fiddle with my keys for a second before locating the button on the keychain to unlock the doors automatically. Edward drops his hand from where it had been resting on my back and opens the driver's side door for me. When he steps away from me, the loss of contact sends an unnerving chill through me and I shiver.
"Are you cold?" he asks, concerned.
"No, I'm fine." I hedge, but I shiver again involuntarily. I feel my lips betray me as they start to tremble, and I bite my bottom lip to hide the movement. It's really not that cold. I know it's just my nerves getting the best of me, but hopefully it looks like my teeth are chattering in the chilly air instead.
"Don't you have a jacket?"
"Yes. I left it in Carlisle's car and -"
Before I can finish speaking Edward is shrugging out of his suit coat and wrapping it around my shoulders. My eyes flutter closed as the overpowering flood of his scent washing over me. I open them a second later and find his face only inches from mine, his hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, adjusting it to cover me. He's not looking at me; his eyes watch his hands as they move the jacket on my shoulders. I take the opportunity to study his face.
Does he realize how close he is to me? How intimate this moment is? He seems so relaxed, as if being near me is a natural, everyday occurrence. As if touching me is something he does all the time. Just like in the restaurant when he stroked my arm, he doesn't seem aware that his physical presence makes me completely ecstatic.
I wish I had the same effect on him.
Oh, who was I kidding? Me: plain, vanilla, innocent, boring Bella. How could someone like me have any impact on someone like him?
At that moment, the wind whips up again, causing a few strands of my hair to come loose from the bun at the back of my neck and flutter across my forehead. Seemingly without thinking, Edward reaches up, brushes the curls from my face and tucks them behind my ear. Finally, finally, his eyes meet mine.
His movements slow as he realizes the air between us is charged with tension. He has me trapped between his body and the car, trapped in this moment. His eyes stay locked with mine as his hand slowly moves from my hair to gently brush my cheek.
Oh.
My.
God.
He's going to kiss me.
I feel my face flush, and I break his gaze, looking down at his chest.
"I'll… ah… try not to drive too fast," he mumbles. He quickly drops his hands, turns on his heel and heads to his car.
EPOV
I slam the door. Both fists grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. I knock my head into the headrest behind me trying to clear it - or knock some sense into myself.
What the fuck am I doing? I almost kissed her! I wanted to kiss her! I would have done it too, if she hadn't looked away. I'm grateful she did. I'm not sure I would have been able to stop myself at just a kiss. In that moment, with her in my arms as I wrapped my jacket around her, I wanted nothing more than to push her back against the car and have my way with her.
This is not part of the plan.
Touching her is not part of the plan.
Kissing her is not part of the plan.
Desiring her is definitely not part of the plan!
Ugh! But I want her; I crave her.
SHIT!
We're just supposed to be friends. It's not like I can bang her and send her on her way like any of my usual conquests. She lives with us! And let's not forget she's Carlisle's best friend's only daughter. Send her home crying to daddy and I can kiss any headway I've made getting back in Carlisle's good graces good-bye. He made that abundantly clear tonight as he glared at me across the table.
He didn't have to come out and say it; I could see it on his face. He was enraged. I never expected the fury I saw in his eyes when Bella mentioned we spent yesterday afternoon together. I thought he would be glad I was making an effort to welcome her. Wasn't he the one who said she was going to be part of this family and to treat her with respect and kindness? Granted, she was the only member of this family I had shown any respect or kindness to, but that didn't explain his behavior at dinner.
Ugh! Why did she have to come here?
I back my car out of the parking spot and drive slowly out of the lot, glancing back to make sure Bella is following me. I take a deep breath to calm my frantic thoughts. I turn off the radio. I need to think, to logically process what is happening to me.
I went to dinner tonight prepared to play a role, to show Carlisle that I had changed, that I could be equals to someone like Bella. But somewhere along the way, I got lost. She was just so easy to talk to, and we have so much in common. I feel so comfortable around her, like I had known her for years, like we truly are friends.
Then I caught Carlisle glaring at me, and I remembered my purpose for showing up tonight. I thought for sure that Carlisle's anger would dissipate as the night went on, but it never did. Actually, it seemed to increase.
Damn it! My entire plan has completely backfired. Not only is Carlisle infuriated by my attempts to befriend Bella, but now I am longing to be near her, to be with her. There is something there, something more, something about her that I can't put my finger on.
Maybe that's it. I can't put a finger on her. She's forbidden fruit and thereby the most appealing.
I have to put her out of my head. I have to concentrate on the task at hand. The last thing I need is another reason for Carlisle to despise me, and his obvious disapproval of my friendship with Bella would be just that. I have to keep my distance and keep my guard up. It's only one year. One year, and then she'll be gone. I can tolerate it for one year, and then it will be like she never existed. I will just stay away from her. I have to.
I take a deep breath as I park in front of the house. I make no move to help Bella out of her car, firm in my resolve to keep my distance. I walk to the front door and fumble with my keys in the lock. I hear Bella come up behind me, but I ignore her, pushing the door open as I walk into the dark house before her.
I hear Bella close and lock the front door, but I don't wait for her as I quietly creep up the stairs to our rooms. I reach the door to my bedroom but before I turn the knob I hesitate and look back over my shoulder. She's watching me from her doorway, hugging my jacket tightly around her body. She looks – sad.
Did it hurt her to watch me leave as much as it hurt me to let her go?
No, I can't think that way. I have to hold my ground if I'm ever going to have any peace with Carlisle.
"Good night, Edward," she whispers softly.
"Good night, Bella."
Good bye, Bella.
I enter my room, leaving her standing alone in the dark hallway, and close the door behind me.
Bella is gone when I wake up the next morning. It's probably better that she's not here. It gives me more time to clear my head and attempt to forget about last night. I try to read, but my mind wanders back to the afternoon in the bookstore. I listen to music, but my iPod keeps shuffling to her favorite bands. I pace around the house, but I can't stop myself from glancing in her room every time I pass the open door.
Ugh, this is not working! I can't get her out of my head.
I decide to call Jazz, hoping he can distract me, and we end up back at the music store for the rest of the afternoon. Turns out his pixie shop girl has a name, Alice.
By six o'clock I've had enough of their blatant flirting and decide to head back home. I pull in the driveway and immediately notice that Bella's car is missing. Has she been gone all day? Where is she?
You don't care, remember?
I make my way inside and to their surprise, join Esme, Carlisle and Emmett at the dinner table.
"Where's Bella?" Emmett asks as Esme sets the table. The space in front of Bella's chair is empty.
"Oh, she called a little while ago. She's rehearsing with Jacob and won't be home until much later."
Carlisle looks pointedly at me. "You two sure seem to be hitting it off."
Shit, this is all I need right now. "Yeah, I guess. Just treating her like family." I wince, instantly regretting throwing his words back in his face.
"Edward." Carlisle's tone is serious. "Bella is a nice girl. She's worked very hard to get where she is today. She has a promising career ahead of her. I don't think it would be a good idea if you were to –"
"You don't have anything to worry about." I cut him off before he can finish his rant.
We eat the rest of dinner in silence and afterward I retreat to my room. Carlisle's warning confirms my suspicion from the night before. I need to control whatever this is I'm feeling for Bella or it will surely destroy my attempt to get back in his good graces. He's right; she has a life, she has a future, she has goals and dreams and is working to fulfill them. She is dedicated and driven, and what am I? What do I have to offer her anyway?
I should leave her to her future. It's the right thing to do. I shouldn't be using her like some pawn in this game I seem to be playing with Carlisle. It's going to be difficult. I can feel it in the heavy reluctance that's already making me think of excuses to change my mind, but I would do the right thing.
Several hours later, I head to the kitchen for a drink. Everyone went to bed hours ago, and the house is dark and eerily quiet. I pull a bottle of water from the fridge and suck down half of it as I pace around the kitchen. I'm not really hungry, but I open the pantry and begin rummaging for a snack.
A flood of headlights sweeps across the room as a car pulls up in front of the house. I glance at the clock on the wall. It's a quarter to one. Who the hell would be coming over at this hour?
I listen as soft footsteps make their way up the front porch, keys jingle in the lock and - giggling?
Bella.
She must just be getting home. What was she doing out so late? I chuckle at the thought – just a few days ago I laughed at Bella practically asking Carlisle for a curfew. Now here I am, the poster boy for skipping curfews, wondering why she's just getting home.
I hear the door open and softly close again. The wood floors creek under her quiet footsteps as she crosses the living room.
I realize, a second too late, that she'll see me as soon as she turns the corner. Moreover, I likely won't escape the encounter without her trying to talk to me. I know with us living in the same house I won't be able to avoid her completely. But now, I'm wishing I had more time to prepare before seeing her again. I take a deep breath and steel myself. Stick to the plan, stick to the plan, I chant in my head.
"Yes, yes. OK, I'm home now… Yes. I'm inside… No. No! Jacob!" She laughs. "Stop it!"
I can only make out one side of her conversation, but she's obviously on her phone with him. Didn't she just spend the entire day with him? What could they possibly still have to talk about?
I hear more giggling. "Yes, I locked the door… Yes… OK… Yes, geez you're worse than my mom!"
Bella finally rounds the corner but she doesn't notice me as she listens to Jacob prattle away in her ear. A large, black duffle bag hangs from her shoulder and she lets it fall to the floor with a dull thud. She's still dressed for dance rehearsal. Her hair is swept back in a ponytail at the base of her head, exposing every line of her slender neck. Even in her black leggings and oversized sweatshirt she looks just as beautiful as she did last night.
I watch as her face lights up and she laughs again at something he says in her ear.
Stick to the plan.
Not wanting to startle her, I clear my throat to alert her to my presence, and she finally looks up. Her expression turns serious; all hints of her flirty tone from seconds before disappear.
"OK, I'll see you tomorrow… Uh, huh… OK… Good night, Jake." She shuts her phone with a click.
"Hello, Edward."
"Bella," I respond curtly.
For a fraction of a second her body tenses. She definitely caught my harsh tone. She walks past me to the refrigerator and removes a bottle of water for herself.
"How was your day?" she asks as she turns back to me.
"Fine."
She takes a sip from her water bottle and waits for me to expound on our conversation. Nope, not gonna happen.
"Well… Good night, Edward."
I watch as she walks out of the kitchen, climbs the stairs and disappears into her room. I let out a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. My eyes fall on her untouched dinner, still waiting for her in plastic containers on the counter.
I wonder if he took her out to eat.
If he asked her about her life, her friends, her family back home.
If he is better for her than I am.
If he had the balls to kiss her.
I effectively ignore Bella for the rest of the week, crafting my schedule carefully around hers so that our contact in the house is minimal. She normally leaves for school before I even wake up, so that part is easy. It's the evenings, when she is home, that are the challenge. I'm able to avoid dinner time without raising much suspicion. That's typically my routine anyway. I just have to be careful not to wander downstairs when she and Emmet are watching TV and wait until she goes to bed before taking my shower.
I'm not able to avoid her completely, of course. We do live within mere feet of each other. I sometimes run into her in the kitchen late at night or coming out of her studio as I returned to my room. She tried to speak to me a few times at first, asking about my day, if the volume of her music was too loud, if I knew where Emmett was. But I would never look her in the eye when I delivered the shortest possible answers I could muster.
Now, one week later, she has completely given up trying to engage me.
Finally, it's Friday night, and Jazz and I are going out. Alice and her friends are hitting a new club downtown to go dancing, and Jazz needs a wingman. A dance club isn't somewhere we usually hang out, in fact, it's the exact opposite. But I need to get out of this house and after a week of avoiding Bella, I'm grateful for any distraction.
It's getting late and I need to take a shower before heading to his house to pick him up. I walk to the open bathroom door, stripping off my shirt as I pass through, and freeze.
Bella is sitting on the counter, her legs balancing over the sink as she gingerly coats her toenails with deep red polish. Her seated position causes the short, white, silk bathrobe she's wearing to gather up, exposing the very top of her thigh. Her hair is twisted up like a turban in a large, green towel piled on top of her head.
She looks up as I enter the room. I wait, expecting her to blush and stammer nervously, just as she did the last time she saw me without my shirt. But she doesn't; she just looks… annoyed. She focuses on her brush again and continues applying the paint to her toes.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I- I didn't think you were in here. I, ah, just need the shower." Apparently it's my turn to stumble nervously over my words.
Bella doesn't even look at me when I speak. She replaces the top on her polish and hops down from the counter with a huff. She opens her drawer, tosses the bottle inside, and slams it shut again. She stomps toward me as she pulls the towel from around her head, causing her wet hair to topple down around her shoulders. As she passes me in the doorway, she shoves the damp towel into my chest without a word, crosses the hall, and slams the door to her room behind her.
I let out a frustrated sigh. This is going to be a long year.
Forty minutes later, I'm showered, dressed and pulling up to the club with Jazz in the passenger seat. We make our way to the door and present our IDs to the bouncer.
"Hey, Peter," a familiar voice calls out. "Those two are with me!" We turn to see Alice standing behind the velvet rope. She's surrounded by three girls, her friends I assume.
"Yeah, you got it, Al," Peter yells back and slaps a paper bracelet on each of our wrists. The bracelets mean Jazz and I can drink.
This night just got a lot more interesting.
We bypass Peter, and Jazz rushes to Alice's side. "Thanks, babe." He wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek.
"Hello, Edward," Alice greets me. "It's nice to see you again."
"Hey, Alice," I respond.
"Edward, I have someone I'd like you to meet." Alice reaches across the circle of girls standing around her and plucks one from the group. "This is Kate. Kate, this is Edward."
I try not to groan out loud as I plaster what I hope is a kind expression on my face. I'm not in the mood for this right now, but that's not Kate's fault. "Hello, Kate. It's nice to meet you."
She giggles. "Hi."
She's pretty I suppose. Too much makeup though, and her hair is the wrong color -too blonde. Lately, I prefer brunettes.
Alice elbows me in the side. "Why don't you put that bracelet I got you to good use and buy Kate a drink."
"Ooooh!" Kate bounces in her place, clapping her hands like an excited child. "I hope they have skinny girl 'ritas! They are soooo yummy."
I shoot Jazz a menacing glare. He's gonna pay for this one and judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it.
We make our way inside. The club is dark except for the strobe lights and rainbow colored lasers crisscrossing the dance floor. The music is loud, pounding from large speakers mounted to the ceiling, and echoing all around us. There is a DJ booth in the front raised up on the stage overlooking the mass of bodies on the dance floor. Behind us, a long mahogany bar wraps around the back wall.
I head straight to the bar and have to scream over the noise to order our drinks. Unfortunately for Kate, she has to settle for a full calorie margarita. The girls grab their drinks and head straight for the dance floor, dancing in a circle with each other. Jazz and I find a high-top table in the back and spend the next hour getting sufficiently buzzed.
We finish another round just as the tempo of the music changes. A love song begins and couples start to partner up, swaying in time with the slow beat. I know what's coming before I even see Alice and Kate emerge from the crowd.
"Come dance with us," Alice commands as she wraps her arms around Jazz's shoulders. "Please?"
"Yeah," Kate slurs, "come on, dance with me."
She grabs my arm and attempts to pull me from my seat. Reluctantly, I stand and allow her to drag me to the dance floor. Alice has already wrapped herself around Jazz, holding him close as they rock from side to side.
Kate stops abruptly and turns to face me, throwing her arms around my neck and resting her head against my chest.
"You're cute," she mumbles against my shirt.
I roll my eyes and stare off toward the sea of bodies gathered around us. In the past, I would have been mildly interested in a girl like Kate. She's an easy conquest. I would have had my fun with her tonight, promising to call when I was done with her, but deleting her number the second I was out of sight. That was my usual routine.
But now, my usual routine doesn't interest me anymore.
Over the course of the night, my mind has repeatedly wandered to thoughts of Bella. At first, I try not to think about her, but the more I drink, the harder it is to remember why I need to push her away. Even now, as I dance with this stranger in my arm, I wonder what she's doing.
I watch as the spotlight sweeps across the dance floor, illuminating the area as it passes by. The flash of a bright blue dress briefly catches my attention. I stare across the dance floor at the girl staring back at me, her warm, chocolate-brown eyes boring into mine.
The eyes I have been avoiding all week.
The eyes I have been missing.
She doesn't look away, even as her partner slowly turns them, she keeps her eyes connected with mine. As our silent exchange continues, the rest of the world melts away. Just she and I stand, locked in this moment in the darkness. The desire to go to her is more powerful than any emotion I have ever experienced. It takes every ounce of strength I can muster to keep my feet planted in this spot.
I know I should look away, put back the wall that I have so carefully crafted all week, but I can't. Here in the darkness, in this moment, my defenses are down. I want so badly to know what she's thinking. Her face is usually an open book to me, her emotions playing out in her eyes and the flush of her cheeks. But right now, across this distance, I can't interpret her reaction to seeing me.
She lays her head against her dance partner's shoulder and he wraps his arms around her tightly. He hugs her to his chest, resting his cheek against her head, and strokes her hair. Even in their intimate embrace, Bella never looks away from me and never lifts the mask she has so carefully put in place to guard her emotions.
The song comes to an end and so does our fleeting moment. I watch as Bella's partner slowly releases her, sliding his hand down her arm and intertwining his fingers with hers. He whispers something in her ear and she closes her eyes, nodding her agreement to whatever question he asks of her. He tugs her gently into the crowd and just as she is about to disappear out of my sight, she glances back at me.
I see it then. For that brief second, she lets the mask slip. A heartbreaking sadness washes over her face and slams into me like a tidal wave.
Another song starts; a thumping techno beat.
"WOOO! This is my song!" Kate cries out, releasing the death grip she has on my neck and throwing her arms up in the air. "Hey! Where are you going?"
"I'll be..." I mumble to the girl behind me and rush in the direction Bella has just disappeared. The crowd thins as I move further away from the dance floor, frantically looking around for her in every direction. I get more and more anxious as the minutes pass and I can't find her. I start to head to the exit, pushing and shoving my way through the crowd until I burst through the steel doors and into the cold night air.
An engine roars to life in the distance, grabbing my attention. I whip my head around to see Bella throw her leg over the back of his motorcycle, wrap her arms around his waist and disappear down the dark street.
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading! The another chapter will be up next weekend.
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