Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns these characters, but I'm taking them home. ladyeire3 owns a vast chunk of Emmett's email!
A/N
Thank you to everyone for your lovely response to the last chapter, Britward says thanks for all the offers of cuddles. Still a lot of folks not sold on Rosalie, I'll have to see what I can do about that.
Thank you to Trip for taking the mess I send her and sending it back polished and shiny. Thank you to the awesome dreamalittledream83 for pre-reading (oh I DO love teaching you new British words, H!) and extra special thanks to ladyeire3 this week for totally fixing the opening email from Emmett. A lot of Emmett's words are hers and she found his voice so perfectly - THANK YOU! x
This chapter, and the next, are pure self-indulgence because I ADORE the idea of having Twilight characters hanging around my hometown. I hope you guys enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Shutting up now so Bella can begin her initiation into becoming an "Essex Girl" :-P
BPOV
Bells,
Hey! Glad I finally heard from you, I'd almost resorted to Facebook stalking and you know how much I hate that crazy shit.
Moving on...Happy to hear you took my advice about getting back out there. Edward has a big ol' green check mark in the "positive" column after what you've said about him but I definitely still need to meet the guy to make sure he measures up to my high standards. It all sounds great but just remember don't fall too hard without making sure he is there with you, right? When can I come over and give him the McCarty seal of approval?
Seattle sucks without you and I might just lose my man card for this but I miss you, Bells...a lot.
Oh crap. So I really don't want to have to relay this to you but Jake's been sniffing around the apartment again looking for you. I got a little rough with him this time, said that if he tried to contact you I'd call the cops, also mentioned that I'm still a witness to what he did so he should take this shit seriously. He was pretty wasted though, not sure how much he understood.
He did mention Volturi and made it sound like he has information on where you are but that could just be drunk talk. I made sure I kept shit to myself.
Be careful, babe, and CALL ME.
Emmett x
"What's that frown for, Gorgeous?" Edward's throaty, honey voice is warm in my ear and a welcome distraction from Emmett's warning.
He puts his strong arm around my shoulders as we sit side by side on the train to Essex and I snuggle eagerly into his body, inhaling his familiar pine scent and trying to steady my thumping heart. I know I should tell him about Jake but he'll worry so much and I don't want to do anything to ruin our weekend. Plus, if Jake is looking for me right now he won't find me anyway as we're going to be out of London for two days.
"Nothing," I smile up at him. "Just Emmett. I miss him, he misses me."
It's Edward's turn to frown a little. "Ah yes, the platonic male best friend. Now is this something I need to concern myself with?" His tone is teasing but I recognise the slightly jealous edge he seems unable to hide or control. Although after everything he told me about that fucking whore Tanya, I guess a little possessiveness is understandable.
I reach up and push a wayward piece of copper hair back off his face, staring into his emerald eyes.
"Absolutely not. We are just friends." I smile.
"And you and he have never...you know?"
I roll my eyes. "Edward, I've never really "you know'd" with anyone in case you've forgotten!"
His frown deepens. He hates it when I try to make light of my condition, I think he knows it's a defence mechanism. "Don't do that, baby. And you know what I mean, you've never...blurred the line of friendship?"
Em and I get this question a lot. People just can't seem to believe that two straight people of the opposite sex can be friends and nothing more. Jake's band of buddies in Forks seemed convinced that Emmett was partly behind our divorce when I first moved to Seattle.
"No we haven't," I answer Edward, totally honestly.
"Is he gay?"
This makes me chuckle; Emmett is a huge bear of a man's man, light-years away from being gay.
"No," I giggle, "Why would you draw that conclusion?"
Edward grins and I know his concerns are alleviated. He slowly lowers his incredible lips and captures my own. He places a gentle kiss on the side of my mouth before pulling my bottom lip between his. This seems to be his signature move and it makes my breath stutter every time.
Barely moving back he murmurs, "I just can't understand how any straight man can be around you as long as he has and even attempt to resist your charms."
I don't have a chance to reply, and I don't think a response is required anyway, before he kisses me again. He brushes my lips with his over and over, gently and persuasively and it reminds me of our first kiss in Soho. When he threads a hand into my hair I open my mouth and reach out my tongue to his while he does the same. He holds my face in his hands and I can't help the soft whimper that escapes me.
A few moments, and mutual wandering hands later, I break away and can feel someone's eyes on us. I look up.
"Edward, that guy is staring at us!" I say, gesturing to the man a few rows up the otherwise empty carriage. "I think maybe we're being inappropriate."
Edward shrugs, nonchalant. "I couldn't really give a toss. If I want to kiss my girlfriend on the train I will."
My heart thumps. Did he just say 'girlfriend'? Edward has spent the last month making it abundantly clear how much I mean to him but this is the first time he has actually referred to me in those terms. It's been a long time since I've been anybody's girlfriend. I'm so used to being Jake's wife and the connotations of that title aren't exactly pleasant. Of course, technically I am still legally married to Jake, for a couple more weeks until the final paperwork comes through at least, but I haven't considered myself that in a very long time.
'Edward Cullen's girlfriend' however, is a title I could definitely get used to.
"I can see the cogs turning in your head," he says. "What are you thinking about?"
Unwilling to draw attention to it, I just smile and give him another brief kiss.
"Nothing," I say. "I'm just happy."
Edward's smirk tells me he knows exactly what he said and what it means but he is silent, just pulling me closer and gazing out of the window as the London suburbs rush by.
My phone vibrates again.
"Somebody's popular today," Edward muses, smiling and nuzzling my neck.
I open the text and I know instantly that Edward must have seen who it was from when he stiffens a little. The name glares out at me from my iPhone screen: Rosalie Hale.
"It's just about Angela's birthday," I tell him casually.
He shrugs but it looks a little forced.
"Okay, cool," he says, feigning indifference.
Edward can't understand why I still want to socialise with Rosalie, and I guess I see where he's coming from. I mean, hanging out with the ex-fuck buddy of your secret boyfriend after she let it slip how much he hurt her is perhaps a little awkward. But truth be told, she's actually kind of awesome. She is nothing like the aloof, fake person I met in Soho and who Edward, somewhat biasedly, described to me. I can see now that all the falseness and over-the-top attitude to Edward was just a shield she put up to protect her dignity, and I know a little about hiding behind yourself. Strangely we actually have quite a bit in common, besides the obvious, so when she asked me if I'd help with Angela's party I readily agreed. I know I really need to tell her about Edward and I. What sort of friendship can I expect to have otherwise? But because we're keeping it a secret from everyone at Volturi I can't risk mentioning it yet. In truth, it feels nice to have friends. Aside from Emmett I didn't really have anyone at home, at least nobody that wasn't Jake's friend first.
I'm fairly certain Rose knows about Edward and I anyway, and I will tell her. Soon. I wonder when things got so complicated again? I moved here for simplicity.
I must sigh out loud because Edward runs his fingers over my cheek and says:
"Hey, it's okay that you're spending time with her. I promise. I'm pleased that you have friends here."
I turn to him and smile. "Thanks. I know it's a little weird for you."
He shrugs. "It is weird but, fuck it, I'll get over it."
He kisses me again and I realise I'll take any complication that comes my way if it means staying right here, in Edward's arms.
We pull into a station and I note the town name is Laindon. Edward informs me we're about halfway there, and this knowledge brings with it a new wave of anxiety. In less than an hour I will be meeting Edward's parents. I'm keen to see his hometown but more than a little afraid to meet his folks.
"Nervous?" he grins, I swear he has mind-reading capabilities sometimes.
"A little," I admit.
"If it makes you feel any better I am too."
"Um, Edward I'm not sure if that actually makes me feel any better at all. You being worried about introducing me to your parents doesn't exactly fill me with confidence!"
He laughs and, as always, the warm sound makes my heart beat a little faster.
"That's not what I meant, baby. Obviously. Just that I haven't brought a girl home before, since Tanya."
I'm a little taken aback. "Never?"
He shakes his head. "Who would I have brought? There has never been anyone remotely serious or permanent since then."
"I guess not," I murmur.
He looks at me thoughtfully, drags a hand through his hair which is in crazy, untamed 'weekend mode' today.
"Sometimes I still don't think you have any idea what you mean to me, do you?" He says the words quietly, and almost as a musing not directed at me. "You don't really get how rare this is, how different you are for me."
Heart stuttering, I whisper back, "I'm starting to." I kiss his cheek, he hasn't bothered to shave today and it is deliciously rough with stubble.
"And I feel very lucky." I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. "Right. Let's see how you feel after you've met my dad!"
I watch him thoughtfully. "So is now a good time for you to tell me what the deal is between you and him?"
He grimaces. "There isn't much to tell really. He doesn't approve of me."
"How do you mean?" I ask, confused.
"He wishes I had done something different with my life, as he calls it 'something that means something.'"
"Like what?"
Edward doesn't answer that question and just says, "You'll soon see what I mean when you meet him. He's so left wing he's practically Chairman Mao. He doesn't like that I - I don't know - make money I guess." Edward snorts. "He's lucky really, I could have been a stock broker!"
"What's wrong with being a headhunter?"
"Nothing to us; Dad just thinks it's 'cold and meaningless'."
"Well that's not true at all," I say, indignantly.
Edward suddenly brightens and kisses the top of my head.
"And I just can't wait for you to tell him that, Miss Swan!" He chuckles.
"Yeah right," I scoff. "Shy, remember?"
Rolling his eyes again he dips his head to my throat.
"Uh huh," he murmurs, sucking gently where my pulse is hammering. "That's what I used to think..."
How can a tiny, gentle touch from this man turn me to Jell-O when an hour in bed with Jake didn't even come close?
"What does he do that's so noble anyway?"
Edward's jaw tightens a little. "He's a music teacher."
Damn, that is actually quite noble.
"Private tuition or in a school?"
"Both."
I wonder why Edward is so uptight about this but I decide not to push it. No doubt all will become clear when I meet the man. This conversation isn't helping my nerves though. Will Mr Cullen hate me for being a cog in the corporate machine too?
"It will be better when Alice gets there. She's a good buffer when it comes to Dad."
Alice is joining us tonight, in truth I think she was just dying to spend the day alone with Jasper.
"What about your mom?" I hedge.
Edward smiles softly. "She's awesome. She's so excited to meet you."
I grin back at him. "Really?"
"Yep. She's gonna fucking love you."
Why does just the word 'love' coming from him make my mouth dry?
I swallow through my tight throat. "Good. I can't wait to meet her too."
I lean back against Edward and watch through the window as the built-up towns slowly turn more suburban, and then there is rolling countryside. Edward begins one of his favourite activities, running his fingers through my hair, and the gentle rocking of the train must lull me to sleep because soon Edward is kissing my cheek and saying "We're here, Sweetheart."
I try to clear my fuzzy head while Edward grabs our overnight bags and guides me out of the train. Outside it is bright and warm but I can instantly feel the coolness of the sea breeze. The smell reminds me of Seattle. It's comforting.
I look around and realise this is quite a large and active station. I was expecting a much smaller, sleepier town like others we passed on the way but this looks busy and bustling.
Edward holds out his arms like a circus ringmaster, a soppy grin on his face. "Welcome to Southend!" he exclaims.
At least I think that's what he said, as I can see the town name on the sign behind him, but he pronounced it more like "Saafend".
I raise an eyebrow, amused. "I'm sorry, to where?"
"That's 'ow we tork rand 'ere, luv" he laughs. It's still his accent I think only more, exaggerated.
I take his offered hand and let him lead me out of the station.
"You know, you're very strange sometimes. Even for an Englishman."
He smiles at me, eyes dancing, before tugging me to a stop and leaning down to place a solid kiss on my lips. "I know," he shrugs. "But you love it, right?"
My heart jolts. There's that word again. I'm grateful when he carries on walking again, therefore missing the look on my face. He reminds me of an eager puppy as he almost drags me along. He's so obviously pleased to be home and for some reason that makes my own heart a little lighter too.
"Mum!" Edward yells, when we reach the parking lot and I look in the same direction to see a petite brunette leaning against a battered silver Volvo with her face turned towards the sun.
She turns towards us. "Eddie!" She greets, throwing her arms around him. She's small, not quite Alice-small, but pushing 5 feet at most and Edward lifts her when he hugs her, making me melt a little.
She turns to me, smiling warmly.
"Mum, this is Bella." Edward says, his hand resting gently against my back.
She is really beautiful in a natural, bohemian kind of way. She is essentially Alice, 20 years from now.
"Hi Mrs Cul-" I begin but suddenly she has thrown her arms around me and is hugging me close to her chest. I catch Edward's eye over her shoulder and he smirks at what must be a very surprised expression on my face.
"Oh Bella! I am so excited to meet you!" She eventually releases me and stares with bright eyes.
Clearly, Alice inherited her mother's exuberance as well as her looks.
I recover as quickly as I can, while she grasps my hand in both of hers.
"Nice to meet you too, Mrs Cullen."
"Oh, please, call me Esme. You're practically family."
I am? I sneak a glance at Edward, expecting his face to be riddled with panic but instead he is just laughing quietly and rolling his eyes.
"Mum you're humiliating me," he says, clearly teasing. "Now move, I'm driving."
"Lord help us all," Esme mutters.
"I heard that," Edward says.
"I know, love. Here you are." She reluctantly tosses him the keys.
There is an awkward moment when I go to clamber into the back and Esme insists I ride shotgun as long as I promise not to "distract him while he tries not to kill us."
I get in and watch as Edward folds his long body into the dented hatchback. He adjusts his seat, the mirror and inhales deeply.
"Ah, I missed you, old gal."
"This is your car?" I ask, surprised. Armani-suited executives don't usually drive cars this old and weary-looking.
"Yep. Well it was. I don't have much use for a car in London." He turns to me and grins. "Put your seatbelt on, Bella."
I do, he turns the ignition and we're off. And, my God, he's fast. Esme wasn't being dramatic. Edward negotiates the streets at breakneck speed and obvious familiarity. I'd be terrified if it wasn't for the fact that I'm so fucking turned on. I've always thought there was something a little sexy about a man driving a stick shift, but Edward takes it into a whole new dimension. He is all long legs and strong forearms and cocky grin. Every time he changes gear I want to climb into his lap. I even find it attractive when he curses other drivers: "Fucking Sunday drivers on a Friday."
When it dawns on me how inappropriate it is to have entirely impure thoughts about Edward when his mother is sitting three feet behind me, I try to distract myself with the view from my window. And what a view it is! We've left the town centre now and are cruising along the seafront. To my left there are stores, arcades, fish and chip shops and a couple of pubs. To my right is the ocean, or as Edward keeps modesty telling me, the 'estuary of the River Thames'. It looks like the ocean to me. The tide is in and the stony beach and wide sidewalk that runs next to it are heaving with people enjoying the sunshine. There are ice cream stands dotted here and there and sheltered benches for admiring the view.
"Tacksville, huh?" Edward remarks.
I smile. Yes, it is a little tacky, but quaint. Best of all, it's where Edward grew up and I feel him everywhere I look.
I catch his eye. "Actually, I think it's kinda wonderful."
His shy smile makes my heart thump a little harder. Something is different today. It's not unusual for my body to be completely at the mercy of what Edward says or does but it feels like seeing him in his natural habitat has increased my desire for him ten-fold. Either that or I'm completely and utterly-
"So tell me, Bella," Esme interrupts my dangerous train of thought, half-shouting over the noise from Edward's open window. "What's it like where you come from? Washington, right? The state not the city."
I turn around in my seat to address her "Yes, that's right. Seattle is great. The town where I was born is...it's different from here. It's more quiet."
She nods. "Eddie's father always wanted us to move to the real countryside but I grew up here, I don't want to leave this late in the day."
I nod in understanding, kind of desperate to know more about "Eddie's father" but there's nothing forthcoming.
"So how do you like London?"
"Oh I love it!" I enthuse. "But I love the ocean too." I add, glancing outside.
There are less people along this stretch and the sand is lined with quaint beach huts in various pastels. Town side, the arcades and bars have given way beautiful old houses and hotels, many of which seem to have now been converted to apartments. People are sitting on their balconies, looking out to sea, and I envy that small pleasure. I'm getting more and more curious about Edward's house.
Eventually, Edward pulls off of the seafront and we climb several steep side roads. Finally, he pulls up in a narrow one-way street and orchestrates a highly professional parallel park outside a row of small terrace houses.
We climb out and I take a look at the house while Esme hunts for her door key. It is small, mid-terrace and if I had to guess I'd say 1920s. It has a warm charm but even I can see it gravely needs work. The guttering is badly in need of repair, the whole front could do with some fresh paint and the porch is a little crumbling. Edward looks a little sheepish, embarrassed maybe, but there is little time to dwell before Esme ushers us inside.
"Make yourself at home, Bella." Esme says. "I'll make us some lunch."
Inside the house is cosy and snug. There is a small sitting room at the front and through the partially open doorway I spot a piano, a music stand and shelves stacked with sheet music.
"That's my father's study," Edward says but doesn't show me inside. Instead we go through to the living room and I'm surprised to see a second piano. Two seems pretty strange for a house of this size, music teacher or not.
"You have two pianos?" I ask Edward but Esme answers for him when she comes in and hands us both a Coke.
"Well this one doesn't get much use, I'm afraid, it is more just a piece of furniture," she scoffs a little, gesturing to the household junk on top of it.
"It's especially wasteful when Ed doesn't even use it anymore but I daren't sell it or we'd face his wrath!" She ruffles Edward's hair while I glance between him and the instrument.
"It's yours? You play piano?"
He shrugs, looking a little tense. "Yeah. Well, I used to."
Holy hell, as if I need any more reasons to find him attractive! But I'm wondering why he never mentioned it before, why he doesn't keep it at his apartment or play any more. The mental image of him working over those keys with his beautiful hands makes me shiver a little.
Once Esme has left the room, I brush his hand with mine and lean up on tip toes to sneak a kiss.
"Will you play me something later?" I murmur.
He bites his lip and looks at me with a strange expression on his face. "Maybe," he finally whispers.
"Anyway, let me show you upstairs," he announces more loudly, grabbing my hand. He briefly shows me the bathroom and two bedrooms before leading me to a third.
"So, this is my room, obviously," he chuckles a little nervously.
It is simple and tidy, with a double bed, a chest of drawers, a built-in wardrobe and rows of shelves containing a few books and DVDs. And almost as much sheet music as I glimpsed downstairs.
Edward puts our bags down and closes the door while I run my fingertips along the spines - classical, rock, modern, jazz, you name it - every type of piano music you can think of. Clearly, it was more than just a hobby.
"There is so much music here, Edward," I say and I feel him wrap his arms around me from behind and place a kiss on my neck.
"Hmmm." he mumbles.
I turn and loop my arms around his neck. "You must be really good."
He shrugs, "I suppose I used to be. I doubt I remember how to play most of that now."
He captures my face in his hands and distracts me with his mouth for a while.
"Why have you never mentioned the piano before?" I ask when we come up for air.
"It's not part of who I am now. I don't play any more."
"Why not?" I press.
"I just don't." He says it with a finality that I decide not to push upon.
He turns me around and guides me backwards, urging me down to the bed. I sit and he kneels, placing a leg on either side of me on the mattress. He stares at me so intensely that I can't help the heat that spreads across my face and chest. He strokes my cheek and mutters "stunning."
"It's so strange, having you here," he says softly. "Do you have any idea how much of a turn on it is having you in my childhood bedroom?"
My attempt to form a response dies in my throat when he gently nudges me backwards to lie down while he follows suit, half covering my body with his. He finds my mouth again and kisses me deeply. I lace my fingers into his windswept hair and groan a little. When Edward hears the sound he pushes our bodies closer and I hook my leg around him.
"Fuck," he says, breathless. "I'd love to take you right now."
My breath stutters and I experience the familiar mixed emotions that these sorts of impulsive words from him always evoke in me. Part of me wants that more than anything but the incessant voice inside me reminds me what the last month has taught us; it isn't that easy.
"Edward, your mom is downstairs making us lunch." I tell him, but I can't help feeling disappointed when he pulls back and lies down beside me.
"I know, baby," he sighs, and I rest my head on his chest.
"So, now you've seen the house are you going to ask me?"
"Ask you what?"
"What you're thinking about every time you see a part of this house that needs work."
Ah, that. I have to admit I don't really understand why they clearly have so little while Edward has so much, but I would never come out and ask that. What he does with his money is no concern of mine.
"It's okay, Bella, I know you're thinking it."
I look at him. "What am I thinking?"
"'Why doesn't the chap with 1,500 square foot in Camden Town bung his old mum a few quid to fix her guttering?'"
I bite my lip. "So...why don't you?"
His expression darkens.
"Oh I try, Bella, believe me."
"What do you mean?"
He turns towards me, I stroke my hand across his face.
"I've lost count of the number of times I've offered Mum money but she doesn't take it, because of him. He is too proud and too bloody stupid. Tells her he'll fix the house up himself but instead he's always working. I don't know how she stands it now Alice and I are gone. It was one thing when she had us around but this house must feel pretty empty now."
My curiosity about Edward's father increases even further.
"So he works a lot then? Surely he only does school hours?"
Edward snorts. "I wish. He schedules private piano tuition for almost every evening. Always has."
"He must be very good," I muse. "To have so many students."
Edward smiles but it's more like a grimace. "And very cheap! But yeah he's certainly a good teacher if nothing else."
I wonder if the "nothing else" means he's a lousy father.
"He never charges enough though, I don't think he has increased his rates since I was a kid." He watches me carefully. "I'm sure I sound really evil, don't I? My clever father gives kids music lessons practically for free and I just want him to make a ton of money. But it isn't about that, I never begrudged anyone a cheap lesson, I just wanted him to take care of us first."
"That makes sense, baby. And I could never think you're evil."
He smiles gently and drops a kiss on my nose.
He continues, "The worst thing is though that even when he's not teaching he is never entirely there, you know? He stays locked in that room all hours, reliving what could have been. And even when he is in the room with you you're never entirely sure if he's paying attention, except if he is lecturing you about something."
"Did he almost make it then?" I ask. "As a professional, I mean?"
"Yeah," Edward murmurs. "And he's never forgotten it. Or let anyone else forget it."
He takes a deep breath. "Anyway, at the end of last year I'd had enough and started sneaking Mum a bit of dosh. At Christmas, Dad found out and lost his shit. I thought he would be grateful but instead he just told me he didn't want my 'ridiculous money' from my 'ridiculous job' when I had 'thrown away my chances'."
I sit up a little. "Chances at what?"
"The chance to turn into him." Edward says bitterly, just as Esme yells up the stairs that lunch is ready.
After sandwiches and salad, Edward takes me for a walk. Hand in hand, we stroll along the front and just enjoy being together. He tells me all about growing up here and the mayhem he, Alice and their 'mates' used to cause. He takes me to his local pub for a drink and we sit outside to watch the people walk by. I can't help thinking how nice it would be to live here. Aside from when he talked about his father, Edward appears more at peace here than anywhere else I've seen him.
"Why don't you come home more often?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "I used to, before Christmas. Since then I don't really want to be around him. Aro promoted me to Principal Consultant in November. Mum and Alice were chuffed for me, Dad just used it as fuel to feed his criticism."
"So...you could have been a professional too?" I ask carefully, unable to resist the question any longer.
Edward studies the label on his beer bottle.
"That's what Dad reckons. I don't know. And I won't know now."
He looks up and takes in a lungful of sea air. "But I should come here more. I miss my mum, truth be told."
"She misses you for sure," I grin, thinking of the fuss she has made of him since we arrived.
He chuckles. "Oh you picked up on that, eh?"
His phone vibrates on the table next to us, he checks it and says "Come on, Alice is here."
Individually, Alice and Esme are both crazed balls of enthusiasm; together they're overwhelming! Alice greets me with a tight hug and the rest of the afternoon is spent soaking up the remaining rays in their tiny backyard, sipping lemonade and stuffing our faces with an array of homemade baked goods.
Esme asks so many questions about me; my job, what I like doing in my free time, my life in Seattle and in Forks. I don't know how much she knows about my past until she says:
"Eddie mentioned you are getting...divorced. I'm sorry about that."
"Mum!" Edward chastises but I smile, tell him it's okay.
I'm not really sure what to respond though but then Esme doesn't let me.
"I mean, I'm not that sorry actually! Because if that hadn't happened you wouldn't be here now, would you?"
There is a stunned silence before I start laughing and the others follow.
"Jesus Christ, Mum," Edward mutters, chuckling.
It's quite clear that Edward's mother has absolutely no verbal filter but as I study her warm, excitable face in the waning sun I can't help falling quickly in love with her. My own mother left Charlie when I was three years old. She has barely tried to contact me at all and I have little interest in knowing her, but Esme is someone you want to know.
"Okay, you two, enough of giving Bella the third degree." Edward announces, pulling me up and into the house, leaving his mother and sister to continue their revelry. At the last moment he leans around me and pops his head back outside.
"Oh and Mum? Why don't you ask Alice how Jasper is?"
I catch the briefest glimpse of Alice's wide eyes before Edward pulls me inside, laughing quietly.
In the living room he collapses on the couch and pulls me down into his lap, nuzzling my hair.
"So, you really haven't ever brought a girl home before, have you?" I can't help the giggle that escapes me.
Edward groans.
"I'm so sorry about them, and I'm sorry about Mum mentioning Jacob and everything."
"It's okay," I whisper, kissing his cheek. "And what she said is true, isn't it?"
He stares at me, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his mouth.
"Everything with Jake was...unpleasant," I tell him. "But I wouldn't be here with you otherwise, so how can I regret anything?"
He kisses me, hard, and afterwards looks at me like he has something really important to say. I wait but all he says is "thank you".
I hop off his lap and run my hand along the top of the old piano.
"So, maestro, are you feeling like playing me something yet?"
A look of apprehension flitters across his face before he eventually smiles and stands reluctantly.
"All right, fine. But you'll be sorry when you hear how rusty I am, and who knows what sort of state this thing is in."
He clears off some junk and pulls out the stool. He looks at me, amused, when I let out a quiet by excited squeal. I watch as he studies the keys for what seems like a long time, running his fingers gently over their surface.
He plays a quick scale and his brow furrows.
"Blimey, he actually kept it tuned," he mutters.
Eventually I hear him take a shaky breath, and flex his strong hands. In the next moment Beethoven's Fűr Elise fills the room - delicate, beautiful, and as far as I can tell, note-perfect.
I watch his face. At first he is clearly concentrating, his teeth imbedded in his bottom lip in a way that makes me want to get between him and the instrument so he can play me instead. After a few moments though, he relaxes, even closes his eyes a little.
The notes fill every space in the room and in me. My heart races faster and faster as the music draws higher and higher to its climax. I can't take my eyes off of him. The muscles in his back, his arms. His graceful fingers as they dance across the keys. But mostly his face; such peace, such contentment, such...love.
When he finally stops my heart is pounding and I can hardly breath. I don't remember ever being so affected by music before. Sure, Pavarotti singing Nessan Dorma gives me chills and hearing 90s rock ballads fills me with nostalgia but music from Edward...that was pure passion. Like he was whispering his deepest secret directly into my soul.
He is watching me a little anxiously and I realise I haven't spoken yet.
"Edward, that was...that was so beautiful. Perfect."
I'm still feeling a little shocked that he has this incredible talent that I never knew about.
He snorts. "Definitely not perfect. I messed up loads of notes and I've forgotten how to-"
"Baby," I whisper, urgently bending my face down to his. "It was amazing, I swear. You have so much talent."
I pause, run my fingertips over the weekend scruff on his cheek.
"When you are clearly that talented, why the hell would you ever stop playing?"
A door creaks and a gruff voice from across the room makes us both jump.
"Now that is an excellent question."
A/N
Well OF COURSE he plays piano! Duh.
I'd love to know what you think, every review makes me so happy (and I have no shame in bribing you with a teaser!). I know there are a few British readers who are familiar with Essex so I hope I'm doing it justice.
I have an urge to rec again, indulge me? myedwardseyesarebrown are a fabulous husband and wife team (I know, I know - a MAN in the fandom! Try not to knock him over in your excitement, eh girls?) and their collab - Anchors Aweigh - is actually their own love story. Once you read it you'll see how brave and awesome this makes them. Enjoy!
Much love,
Amber x