This chapter is going to make some people mad and some people happy, and I doubt anyone will be totally satisfied. But that, homies, is how I roll.
LouderThanSirens and MommaBear, you are tits on toast...which means I like ya. A lot.
Jajo and RoseArcadia are just...ze best.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Bella
"I would like to propose a toast," Mike yells, trying to quiet down our raucous laughter. We calm down, raising our glasses in the air, a few of us still giggling. "Thank you for having me up this week. It's incredible to be back here. You have no idea how much I've missed this place and all of you ... especially old peepin' Ms. Mallory, who is probably spying on us as we speak." We laugh, and he waits until we quiet again. "Cheers to us," he says simply, and we reach around the table clinking glasses with those we can reach before drinking.
I'm sitting next to Mike, who is at the head of the table, with Edward on my other side. Mike and Charlie both arrived today, coordinating their flights so they could ride together from the airport. Rose prepared a fucking feast in their honor, and having eaten my weight in barbecued ribs, I consider unfastening the button on my jeans. The conversation flows around me as I rub my full belly, looking down to see if it's visibly protruding.
Mike leans over whispering, "Don't worry, B. Everything looks perfect from here."
I roll my eyes at him, glancing at Edward, who is looking down at my stomach as well, nodding, and then looks up at Mike and gives him a half-hearted smile.
The two of them are actually getting along okay, but there is some obvious underlying strain between the three of us. Mike knows everything about Edward, and Edward knows almost nothing about Mike. Mike, without being unkind, has let Edward know that he's fully aware of our past, but that he has intentions that go beyond just friendship with me. Somehow, he does this without coming off as an insecure asshole.
He's almost impossible to dislike, and despite picking me up and swinging me around when he arrived, he hasn't crossed any boundary that would make Edward uncomfortable. Unfortunately, intentionally keeping his distance in front of Edward seems to have almost the opposite effect, because his restraint is apparent. Edward tries to play it cool, but I can feel him watching me in his peripheral vision.
There is also the issue of our group of friends, all of whom had months to get to know Mike. There are inside jokes that Edward isn't privy to; there are stories about nights at a bar that Edward has never been to. I can feel discomfort radiating off of him when the conversation veers that direction, excluding him almost completely.
I had no idea that watching this happen would make me feel so good and so guilty at the same time. I want to revel in it, because he put himself in the position to miss all of those good times, and to let Mike fill a space that he left when he decided to cut himself off from us. On the other hand, I feel terrible because he's feeling exactly what I felt last summer, and I remember how awful it was.
Actually, he'll feel exactly what I felt last summer if I have sex with Mike.
With Charlie here, I don't see that happening, though. Mike has his own bedroom, and despite how much Charlie likes Mike, he let me know that he would be keeping an eye on us.
After dinner we stay up far too late, although Charlie goes to bed a reasonable hour, warning us to "Keep it PG". He punctuates this with a pointed look in my direction. How embarrassing.
Of course, the second he leaves Emmett starts pouring shots, so PG isn't fucking likely.
Jasper has a playlist for every occasion, and he doesn't fail us tonight, choosing hip-hop from our youth.
"Holy shit, I haven't heard this song in years," Rose says as she starts shaking her hips with Alice to an old Dr. Dre song. She and Alice are soon pulling me into their dance circle. Again.
With her arms swaying over her head and hips gyrating, Rose dances over to Mike and pulls him off of the couch. Groaning, he puts down his beer and acts put out before busting a fucking move on our makeshift dance floor. The girls and I respond with squeals and laughter, joining in and trying to get the other boys up from their chairs where they're watching with amusement.
I knew Mike could dance, but I am a little surprised that Edward's got rhythm. He and Emmett move around each other, exaggerating their'gangsta' moves and laughing at each other. Jasper is twirling Alice around and dipping her, sneaking in kisses. I can't stop smiling.
"Bella!" Rose yells over the music. "Remember our dance?" I shake my head vigorously, even though I remember every move. She smiles knowingly and grabs me, making me stand next to her. I glare at her, not believing that she's making me do this. She counts it off and we move in unison around each other in steps we made up in eighth grade.
"Hell yeah! Get it, girl!" Emmett yells, raising his drink in the air and nodding his head in time to the beat. I keep my eyes on the ground, or on Rose, for the first minute, but then peek up to meet Edward's at one point. He's smirking, looking me up and down and quirking an eyebrow.
By the time we get to the part where I bend over in front of Rose and she mimes slapping my ass, we're all laughing hysterically. Mercifully, the song changes then, and we resume non-synchronized dancing.
We dance through songs by Pharcyde, Biggie, Cypress Hill and Fugees before taking a break to cool off. The temperature is in the 80's tonight, and we're all sweating. I mix a drink and leave everyone in the kitchen before stepping out onto the porch into the cool air.
"Fancy meeting you here," I say nerdily to Edward, whose back is to me as he's leaning on the porch railing. He smiles at me over his shoulder and nods his head for me to come over. I can hear Jasper and Mike fighting about what to put on next, everyone else weighing in from the kitchen.
"I feel like I'm always following you onto a deck," I joke, until my words sound back in my head and I realize what he probably thinks I'm referencing. Edward stays silent.
"Dude, sorry. I didn't mean it like that," I mumble, turning to look at him.
"Hey." I dip my head towards him to try to catch his eye, and when I do, he looks monumentally sad. "Edward. What's wrong?"
He takes a drag and exhales and then looks back at me. "I miss you." I've never heard him say anything like that to me; so simple and sweet.
"I'm here," I respond quietly, our eyes on each other.
"You know what I mean," he says.
I think I do, but I want to hear him say the words, so I just look at him expectantly.
"I mean ... I miss being with you."
I can hear Mike groan when Jasper wins the music fight and puts on Portishead. It Could Be Sweet melts into the night through the open windows.
I have nothing to say to that, wishing he could have been saying these words to me a long time ago.
Our silence stretches on and so does our stare. Maybe I'm looking for insincerity, though he's been anything but this summer. All I find is the truth of his words.
I want to run my fingers over his face.
"I miss you, too. But..." I whisper.
I don't know how long we stand like that, but too soon Emmett is bellowing for us to take more shots and join the dance party that had restarted after Jasper's brief emo interlude.
As we're walking in, he whispers, "By the way, I liked your dance." His smile is suggestive.
"I'll bet you did," I say, walking in ahead of him and giving my hips a little extra swing.
We all pass out Rose's that night. Emmett and Jasper drag out the futons and we fall asleep to soft music. I sleep on a couch alone, hoping to avoid awkward sleeping situations.
Jasper finds me one afternoon when everyone is scattered around the cabins showering and getting ready before dinner. I'm listening to a band that Edward turned me on to, The National, and doing the dishes in my cabin.
"Hey, cuz," he says, helping himself to a beer from my fridge.
"Hey, J. What's going on?" I ask, hoping I don't sound as suspicious as I feel. I can always tell when Jasper has something to say. He's usually slow to come out with it though, so I'm a little on edge.
He senses my tension. "No, nothing bad. Nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to you about Mike and Edward." He takes a swig of beer and watches as I finish washing a glass and turn around.
I take a deep breath. "Okay."
"Where are you at with it?" he asks, looking at me seriously. I grab a beer and we walk out onto the porch. Mike is in the shower, and I can't really talk about this knowing he could hear us.
"I don't know, J. I don't know what I want, and it's totally unfair. I like Mike, like, a lot, but then there's Edward, who I shouldn't even be thinking about like that..."
He waits patiently while I collect my thoughts.
"Emmett called me before we came up here, to talk to me about Edward. Things are different with him, now, and I can see that, but I guess I don't know how different. Mike would be good for me. He's probably the best guy I know. I love him so much, but if I really do love him like that, then why would anyone else even factor into the decision to be with him? And on that note, why do I care about Edward's feelings at all? Is he just a bad habit that I need to kick? Fuck, Jasper, I don't know what I'm doing."
My head hangs down from the weight of this conversation.
He considers his words carefully, looking out at the lake. "I think you know what you want, B, but what you want might not be the best thing for you in the end. I think you want Edward, but know it should be Mike."
He pauses, smiling at me. "See how it plays out, but be conscious of the fact that it's unfair to keep Mike waiting if you're pining for Edward. All of us just want you to be happy, no matter what that means."
I smile, knowing that he's right, but also that it's conditional in some ways, or more accurately, to some people.
I decide to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on this topic too long. "So, how are you and Alice?"
His face changes, lighting up. "Alice is amazing," he grins, opening his mouth to say something and then changing his mind.
"What? Spill it." I demand, leaning towards him curiously.
"Um. Fuck. Well, I haven't told Rose. I haven't told anyone, actually, but I'm going to ask my dad for my mom's ring." He peeks at me through his lashes, gauging my reaction, so he's surprised when I launch myself at him in a hard hug.
I can't stop the tears from falling, happy for him and sad about my aunt at the same time. I know that Carlisle will give him the ring, but know it will be hard for all of them, especially Rose. Not because of the ring, but because their mom won't be there to see him go through this part of life.
We go back into the kitchen for more beer and sit at the bar.
When Alice comes in looking for Jasper and finds the two of us, teary and drinking beers, telling stories about our moms, she doesn't hesitate to sit down and listen.
Soon, she's laughing and crying along with us, and I can't wait for her to officially be a part of our family.
Jasper, Emmett, Edward and Mike have formed a sort of a pack. The testosterone kicked in and they spend the days doing daredevil stunts on water skis and daring each other to do stupid shit. It's like living in a Jackass movie; amusing, slightly dangerous, and hot ... because they're all shirtless.
"Cannonball!" Rose yells. She, Alice and I run and jump off the end of the dock, aiming for perfect symmetry. We all hit the water at the same time and bob back up, looking back at the boys, who are lined up in chairs on the beach, admiring the view, no doubt.
We earn a 9.3 from the guys, and then take their places on the chairs to watch them attempt to execute a quadruple cannonball. They get a 6.8, but only because we insist that they do it naked. Their form is crap. I look up to see Mrs. Mallory on the edge of her seat, binoculars glued to her eyes. My eyes waver between the perfect asses of Edward and Mike.
Fuck.
Obviously, Charlie had to go back to Washington for business, or the nudity wouldn't be kosher.
Now that he's gone and we're staying alone in my cabin, I think that tonight is the night things are going to start getting intimate with Mike. We still keep a certain distance when everyone is around, but when we get back to my cabin and it's just the two of us, it escalates quickly.
He feels really good, his skin smooth and hot under my hands. By the time our shirts are on the floor and our chests are pressed together, there's no doubt in my mind that I want this.
I'm lying to myself, of course. There's doubt. I'm just choosing to ignore it.
I press harder against him, exhaling sharply. I don't want to stop.
When he slides my jeans down over my hips, I'm shaking with anticipation. No one has touched me-really touched me-in a very long time.
He doesn't waste time, his mouth on me and fingers curling in me in seconds. I don't last long. I feel like I've been on the verge of orgasm for a few months, so it's quick and intense and I breathe out a string of profanity, trying to keep my voice down as much as I can. My bedroom windows are wide open.
He lays his head on my stomach while I recover, placing small kisses below my belly button.
But I don't want to come down, so I pull him up, fumbling with his belt, kissing his neck. He stops my hands, undoing his jeans and pulling them down, his boxer briefs not hiding much. We kiss a little, but I'm anxious and ready, so I pull him out and into my mouth quickly. I'm good at this. I may be inexperienced in some areas, but giving head isn't one of them.
He tries to stay quiet, but a slow "fuuuuuck" escapes his lips while he watches me. He doesn't last long, either.
Afterward, I crawl up to put my head on his shoulder and we lay quietly for a minute.
Now that the blurry sexual energy is subsiding, I can feel the unease approaching. I throw a leg across him, pushing myself up to straddle him.
He stops me before I can, though, holding me to the bed and against his side. He strokes my arm, looking me in the eyes. I think I manage to contain the agitation I'm feeling at our inactivity, but whatever Mike finds while looking at my face keeps him from letting me go any further.
"Bella," he sighs, not in frustration, but in sympathy.
I can't look at him then, shame erasing the agitation and taking over.
I'm a horrible person. I basically just used him to get off, even though I think I know that he isn't what I want. I'm toying with person who has been nothing but amazing to me. I don't deserve him.
He holds me for a long time. I don't cry and we don't speak. When he leaves to go to his room, he's not angry or disappointed or even hurt. His concern for me is the only thing apparent, which makes me feel worse. I want to ask him to stay and sleep with me, but I don't. I spend most of the night staring at the moon outside of my window, trying to figure out what just happened, and what I should do.
Even with Mike and my dad here, Edward still showed up on the deck every morning. Now that Charlie's gone, I wasn't sure if he would continue, but I'm still surprised when he's not there the next day.
Mike wakes up after I do, finding me listening to Nick Drake, sipping coffee on the couch. I'm tired and have a headache.
"Morning," he mumbles cheerily, shuffling to the kitchen to get coffee. He flops next to me on the couch when he returns, stretching his arm along the back of the couch and behind my back.
I smile sadly at him.
"Talk to me, girl," Mike says, taking a long moment to read the look on my face and leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. "Come on. You see how fucked up this situation is, don't you? I feel like a total asshole."
"You're not an asshole, Bella. I guess it's weird, I mean he's obviously still stuck on you," he says, looking out at the deck to the chair where Edward usually sits in the morning before I let him in. "Look," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I love kissing you. I love...everything. I hope last night isn't something you regret..." he pauses, watching me. My face gets hot, remembering. "But I think it is."
He stops me when I open my mouth to speak. "I know it's not because of me, so don't even start with the apologies. I understand that and I'm not mad. I knew that this could happen. Things are unfinished between you two. I want nothing more than to be with you, but I just don't see that happening right now."
I slump back on the couch, letting his words sink in.
"I've been really unfair to you," I say apologetically, looking down.
"I'm not complaining," he says gently. "At least I got to see your tits," he laughs, ducking when I go to smack him on the back of the head.
He opens his arms and I snuggle against him while he rubs my back. I love that things can be this easy with him.
"So. Friends?" he asks, pulling me back to look at my face.
I smile up at him and kiss him one last time on the lips.
Edward is kind of a dick all day.
Something flipped, and almost every word out of his mouth is acidic and harsh. He guzzles beer all afternoon and then switches to whiskey. By the time we get to dinner, he's wasted and won't take off his sunglasses. Even though I don't know for sure, I get the feeling that he's glaring at me.
I'm telling a story about the time Alice and I got kicked out of a bar for being too rowdy and I hear Edward mutter something under his breath before taking a sip of his whiskey. It sounds like "fucking stupid." I stop talking abruptly, turning to look at him.
"What did you just say?" I demand, my tone confrontational.
He snorts, leaning forward to speak condescendingly to me. "I said that's fucking stupid."
"Here we fucking go," Emmett sighs, his face tight.
"What the hell is your problem, Edward?" Rose bites at him. I put my hand up for her to stop.
"You're being incredibly rude," I say calmly, keeping my gaze on his sunglasses. It's really annoying to not be able to see his eyes right now. Mike shifts next to me, and then gets up.
"I'm going to run next door. I want to grab that CD I told you about," he says to Jasper, squeezing my shoulder before he walks out.
Edward and I stare each other down.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask tightly, getting up and walking through the cabin to the back door, which we rarely use. We'll have a little more privacy for this conversation on this side of the cabin. I lean on Emmett's truck, waiting for him.
He walks steadily, but I can tell he's drunk. He lights a cigarette, acting aloof.
"What's the deal?" I ask, frustrated.
"What's the deal?" he mimics me. His voice is cruel. "The fucking deal, Bella, is that you're fucking with me; flirting with that kid in front of me and shit," he says, ashing his cigarette, looking at the ground.
"I can't imagine how that feels," I say bitterly.
"Are you punishing me or something? Trying to make me feel like you felt?" he asks, angrily. "Well, believe me, I get it. So you can stop now."
"You're comparing you and Tanya with me and Mike? Really?" I'm incredulous.
"Are you fucking him?" he raises his voice.
I recoil. "What I'm doing is none of your business," I snap.
"Oh really? So how come before he got here you were acting like you wanted to suck my dick?" he taunts, taking a step closer to me, flicking his cigarette into a can that we use as an ashtray.
Even when he was a cocky fucker last summer, he never talked to me like that. It hits a little too close to home, but my guilt is gone for the moment. He doesn't get to demean me.
He did this. He started this. This entire situation isn't my fault, and he's not going to treat me like trash.
My hand flies up to snatch the sunglasses off of his face and I throw them on the ground, probably scratching the expensive lenses. I don't care. I need to see his eyes.
"Fuck you," I say, my jaw clenched.
When I try to rush past him to stomp back in the cabin, he grabs my arm, holding me back. He pulls me to him, hands holding my upper body tight.
His mouth on mine is sweet, warm and insistent. I can taste whiskey and cigarettes on his breath, but I don't care. I should remain motionless, but find my lips moving against his desperately. Tears gather in my eyes. This is what I've wanted for so long that it almost physically hurts to get it now.
Making a strangled noise, I wrench my arms free and slam both hands against his chest, pushing him backwards. He stumbles.
"You can't just do that! You can't just have whatever you want!" I'm shaking. "You can't just have me because you're jealous," I spit out.
"And you can't justify dangling Mike in front of me, because you know he's not who you want," he says this resolutely; like there is no chance it could be any other way.
My voice is quieter now, tears peeking through. "Even if that's true, what reason do I have to be with you? Wanting it isn't enough. Not anymore. How can I know that you...?"
"Because for as long as it takes, I'm going to be here." I think I see a tear on his cheek, but it's hard to tell in the dark. He puts his face in his hands. "I heard you last night, Bella," he says, his voice tortured.
"What, were you spying on me?" I try to sound offended, but it comes off shaky.
"I couldn't sleep and wanted to see if you were still up," he admits, squeezing his eyes shut. "If you knew how hard it was for me to keep myself from coming in there and kicking the shit out of him..." he shakes his head, probably trying to rid himself of the mental image.
I suppose this would be an ideal point in the conversation to fill Edward in on what Mike and I talked about this morning, but for some reason I hold that information back.
I'm not ready to show my hand. Grandiose declarations aside, I can't just give it up so easily. It's not about punishing him, though. It's about getting to things when I'm ready.
He steps forward again, his hand coming up to brush away a tear. "Just ... please. Don't make the mistake I made," he pleads.
"I should get back inside," I say, wiping my face on my sleeves and giving him one last, long look before walking away.
Do you love me?
Do you hate me?
Do you trust me?
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