Prompt: speedy

Sorry I didn't update yesterday! The day was...gross. Small note at the end.

"Oh, yeah? You've seemed kind of preoccupied lately, Edward," I say, turning to face him. He twirls his keys around his fingers, staring at the back of Stefan's head, or his back. I'm not sure what is so interesting about the back of the baker's son, but he's definitely not looking at me. Really? I continue. "I didn't want to bother you, and I've, well, Stefan here has it under control, fortunately." My voice isn't unkind but it isn't jovial either.

Stefan glances my way, offering a small smile. He holds out his hand for the final lug nut, and I drop it in his grease-marked palm. "It's no problem," he says.

Edward shifts, scratches the back of his neck, quick like a mosquito bit him not casual like he does when he's thinking. His forehead scrunches, eyes squinting. He looks…uncomfortable. "I have been. Pre—never mind. I'll follow you to the repair shop so they can fix your tire. Okay?"

"You don't need to do that. It'll be fine until tomorrow."

Stefan says, "You should take it to the shop. This spare isn't in the best shape." And I just frown at him. He shrugs, and Edward gives me one of those I told you so looks.

I'm not 100 percent positive, but I have a feeling if Edward drove all the way out here, he wouldn't simply follow me to the mechanic's and then leave. He'd wait with me which would force us to talk which I'm not 50 percent sure I even want to have a conversation with Edward right now anyway. I mean, really. What would we talk about?

But I still miss him, like I have all week. The friendship, that is. I feel like I've given up smoking. Or chocolate. Yes, chocolate—the expensive kind that's displayed in store windows that when you walk by you think no, I really shouldn't indulge but I want to. That's what Edward is to me, and I've never even had a taste.

He loads my trunk with the flat before Stefan throws in the tools. He doesn't care that the front of his white shirt has dirt all over it, or that his hands are smudged with grease. The two chat about something and they laugh. Why can't you just be a dick, Edward? It'd make things so much easier.

I need Midol.

"Let's go," Edward says, and I thank Stefan again. I tell him to let his dad know that when possible we'll send more business his way.

If Edward and I were together, I'd be angry with him for the way he's been acting. If we were only friends, I'd be angry. But I can't pout or complain or challenge him any more than what I said to him when he showed up as if he was a knight saving a damsel in distress. I have no right to do so, and it's getting harder to…wait.

As we drive to the auto shop, I think about how Edward is with everyone. He's friendly, outgoing…charming, but not flirty. He's funny, witty. And maybe our inside jokes or the movies and TV shows we quote or the books we both like are entirely because we happen to have similar tastes. A fluke and no more.

I think about the little things: ensuring Garrett and I were okay after the baseball game; how when Sam left me and Garrett he let my cry in his office and didn't say a word. He quietly walked out of his office and came back with a bottle of water and a box of tissues and listened—not an easy feat for a guy. I think about the times he said that if I ever needed anything around the house, he'd help. How he stayed at work while I was stuck there way past 5:00 because he didn't think it was safe for me to walk to my car alone.

There were other things, too, but as we pull into Speedy Auto and Tire Service's parking lot, I think how, last Friday, I got pissed off and it turned into the Days of Avoidance. I made him uncomfortable. I was the one who thought there was a certain something between us. All this time…I read him wrong. He's married and happily so.

Edward thinks I need saving.

There's a knock on my window; I lower it. "Go ahead and park in one of the service spots. I'll meet you inside."

I'm so stupid.

And clearly, I truly am delusional.

The guy behind the counter tells me that because it's 4:30 and there are cars ahead of mine, they won't be able to fix the tire until tomorrow.

Perfect. My humiliation can slowly fester and burn inside while Edward drives me home.

I need alcohol.

A/N: Yikes. I promise you, Bella is not insane, and if you remember Ed's POV, she's not delusional either. It's hard when you can't talk to anyone about these things!

I'm working on today's prompt. If not by tonight, we'll be caught up by the end of the week. Thanks for reading!