All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the author. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without the express written authorization of the author. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. Thank you. April 2010.
Thanks to the wonderfully talented, xrxdanixrx-who's also provided awesome banner! Much love to you! I don't know what I'd do with you!
Thanks to all those reading, reviewing, and recommending. It really does make my day. Whoa, some of you really would like to fry Edward right about now wouldn't you? Love all your theories on the last chapter.
As ever, let me know what you think. Things aren't always what they seem to be.
On with Edward and what he's really thinking…
EPOV
Chapter 14
While Rose pulls Bella to the table, my mind is reeling with the possibilities of where I could go with this right now. I'd really like to just pull her outside and have a civilized conversation with her…well, right after I fuck her senseless.
Chef Mike is trailing along behind her like a little obedient dog. That makes me want to throw up. Did she really come here with him? Does she not see how pathetic he is? Him? What about me? Why am I still sitting here, getting progressively harder with each step she takes towards me? I mean, how much more do I need to see before I realize that she's not interested?
"Edward! I didn't expect to see you here," Rose says. Rose best keep her day job. She's not very good at acting. Bella rolls her eyes, because that's apparently the standard reaction she has to me.
"Rosalie," I say, nodding my head at her and smirking at Mike. This could actually be a lot of fun. I think I'm going to like tormenting the little Chef.
Emmett holds out a chair for Rose and she sits down for all of a nanosecond before he's making sure the rest of the men in the bar know she's taken.
I move to the side of the bench to give Bella room to sit down. Rose barks at her to sit and she does. She smells fantastic and I have to resist the temptation to touch her. I ball my fists under the table and issue Mike the stare. Mike clearly recognizes this look, the one saved for assholes when you want to let them know they're dangerously close to really pissing you off.
Of course, the Chef turns pale white, because quite frankly, I'm a bit intimidating when I want to be, and right now, I want to be.
Bella encourages Mike to sit down. Fuck, maybe she did come with him. He looks like he's going to throw up or pass out, or both, but he does sit beside her. Oh, this is too easy. She thinks she's the Queen of mixed signals? Let's see how she does when I'm actually nice to Mikey-Mike.
"It's good to see you again, Mike. How is the restaurant coming along?" I try to sound like I give a shit, and I even pass him one of the girly drinks on the table. I'm sure he's used to these and has them all the time. Bella shifts uncomfortably which makes me really fucking happy.
Mike looks at the martini like it's a foreign object from another planet, but then takes it from me. He tells me that the restaurant is on schedule, and then invites me to the opening. That's exactly where I need to be; preferably with Bella on my arm, and then under me immediately after...or on top, I'm not going to be picky.
"We should all go. What do you think, Bella?" I ask her. Fuck, she's beautiful. My dick is Goddamn almost coming through my jeans at this point. I cannot believe that she has this effect on me. Even after the certifiably insane move with the flowers, I still want her. How can she not feel this - whatever this is between us? She's looking up at me from under her eyelashes, all innocent and tempting, and I just want to pick her up and drag her out of here with me.
"That's a great idea," she says, looking uneasy and like she wants to be anywhere but here. She glances at the dance floor, maybe plotting her escape route, I don't know. The fucking tension in the air is palatable, I can feel it. I'm sure she can.
"I think I'll get a drink," she says and starts to push up from the bench, which brings her perfect breasts together and provides me a view that makes me almost salivate like some sort of rabid animal.
"Oh, I'll get it!" Mike says, looking eager. "What would you like?" Well, Mike can actually be useful. Who would have thought?
"A vodka cranberry. Thanks, Mike," she says. He smiles down at her, and then hauls his sorry ass towards the bar.
"Well, thank fuck for that," I say under my breath.
"What was that?" Bella asks, glaring at me with her patented ice stare.
"Nothing." I cock an eyebrow to her…my patented stare.
"Rosie, let's dance. I've been waiting all night to get you out there," Emmett says.
Oh, right, this is part of the lame ass plan that I'm sure Emmett and Rose put together. Bella isn't impressed, either. Do they think we're back in high school or something?
To be honest, it does mean I have a few precious minutes alone with Bella, and so I decide to just bite the bullet and get this over with. "So, I got an interesting delivery today," I say calmly before taking a deliberate swig of my beer.
She blinks up at me and looks…nervous, scared, sorry? I tear my eyes away from her and over to the bar because if she keeps looking at me like that, I'm going to fucking come right here and now. How can this woman make me so crazy when I'm not even touching her?
I scan the bar and I'm sure I stop breathing. Holy fuck. You have got to be kidding me. What the fuck have I done in a previous life that warrants this fuckery? What the fuck is she doing here?
I'm aware that Bella is saying something, but right now I've got absolutely no idea what that is, because standing at the bar, decked out in a white fuck me dress is Angela.
I haven't seen or talked to her since she came to pick up her shit from the loft. To be honest, I don't really want to talk to her now, but while I watch Mike order Bella's drink from the bartender and then stare over at her with a sad, pathetic look, a brainwave hits me.
If Emmett and Rose's plan was to make me jealous with Mike, I think it's only fair that I return the favour.
"Edward?" Bella asks, waving her little hand at me.
"Yeah, sorry," I say.
"See something you like up there?" she asks sharply. No, actually the only thing I like is you, but you seem to loathe and despise me. This could either make you realize you're wrong, or send you home with Mike. Am I willing to do this?
"Just someone I used to know," I say. "Can you just give me a minute, Bella?" I know I'm being an ass, that this is beyond risky, but actually seeing Angela makes me think that there are a few choice words I'd like to say to her, and I'm nothing, if not, a multi-tasker. I get to confront Angela and make Bella jealous at the same time. God, I'm a genius sometimes.
I leave Bella, afraid to see the look on her face, and walk over behind Angela and her postage stamp of a dress. "Angela, surely you're not trying to pretend to be virginal?" I ask sarcastically, bending so my mouth is close to her ear.
She turns around and her eyes grow wide. Whoa, it smells like she's been swimming in a pool of tequila. Oh fuck, a drunk Angela is not a good thing. She squeals really fucking loudly. Well, at least that will catch Bella's attention.
"Edward! Oh, my God! Look at you," she slurs at me, and then wraps her arms around my neck. I can feel her little tits against me…that used to excite me, now I just feel nauseous. Jesus, I practically have to hold her up. She's almost falling down for God's sake.
"This is Edwarrrrd. Edward, Jessica…you know, like the cartoon Rabbit." She tips back and hits some generic looking friend she's with on the shoulder.
"Oh, Edward? The Edward?" Jessica asks. She seems shocked. At least she's not drunk. Oh fuck, why did I come over here? And what does that even mean the Edward?
"How have you been?" I ask, holding her around the waist, because quite frankly, she's going to fall down if I don't.
"Drunk! I'm drunk, Eddy-boy," she says, swaying back slightly.
"Whoa, Angela. We should probably get you home. Did you drive?" I ask, hopeful that Jessica will take the hint and get her the fuck out of here.
"Are you tryin ta pick me up, Eddykins?" Fuck my life.
"No, I'm not trying to pick you up." She runs her hand over my shoulder and now I'm really fucking sorry I came up with this brainwave.
"Oh, Eddybear. We used ta have goooood timesss." She runs her hand around my waist and I push her drink away from her. Jesus, she needs to sleep this off. I can't ever remember seeing her this drunk before. "Dontcha wanna fuck me?" she asks, snaking her hand down to my ass. Did I say, fuck my life?
"No, not at all," I admit. Not now and not ever again. I steal a glance back at the table. Bella and Mike are hitting back shooters like there's no tomorrow. She's looking pretty Goddamn happy right now, and this makes me pissed off and slightly panicked at the thought of her going home with him.
Angela leans further into me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I run my hand down her back to steady her. "Come on, I'm getting you a cab before you pass out." I scan for Jessica, who is now no where to be seen…some friend.
I guide Angela towards the door, actually hoping that Bella sees this, because I know it will make her really fucking angry…at least I think it will, unless of course she actually really is into the Chef. Now I'm even more pissed, because I have a drunken Angela to deal with when I all I really want to do, is get back to the table so I can try to figure out what the hell Bella's thinking, and maybe torment Mikey a bit more.
I manage to get Angela out and onto the street before she turns a hideous shade of green, and then proceeds to hurl the contents of her stomach all over the curb…over and over again. Good times, indeed.
"Angela, why did you drink this much?" I ask, steadying her when she's finished puking.
"Whadda you care, EddySpaghetti?" she asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Fuck, I don't think this could be any worse.
"Angela!" I turn to see Jessica coming towards us. Oh, thank God. "What are you doing out here?" Jessica asks, looking pissed off.
"Eddy's takin me home," Angela stammers.
"Ah, no, I'm not. I was getting her a cab," I explain. "Come on, they're parked down the street. A little walk will do you good." I can't believe I'm even offering to help her in this state, or at all given what she did to me, but I'm not a total asshole and I'd hate for something to happen to her.
Jessica nods her head at me and takes Angela's other arm. We steady her and walk down the street to the waiting cabs. "Does she do this often?" I ask Jessica.
"Every once in a while," she admits.
"Eddy, why did we break up?" Angela asks, stopping abruptly and trying to focus her drunken eyes at me.
"You slept with your grad student," I remind her.
"Righhht. You're really pretty, Eddy," Angela says, falling towards me. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No, Angela. I don't have a girlfriend." Fuck, why does it feel like these cabs are eighty kilometers away?
"I could be your girlfriend. You're a good kisser. Hey Jessica? Did I mention that EddyBeddy is a good kisser? Kiss her Edward!" Angela starts laughing and trying to push Jessica towards me.
Fuck, just kill me now. Jessica just rolls her eyes, and we drag Angela the rest of the way down the street to the line of cabs.
I open the back door of one of the cabs and lift Angela into the seat. "You ok to take her home?" I ask Jessica, praying she says yes, because that's the fucking last thing I want to do.
"Yeah, we live together. It's ok," she says, walking around to the other side of the cab. There is a God.
"Thanks, Jessica. Angela, I hope you feel better in the morning," I say, trying to shut the door.
Angela smiles back at me and leans half way out of the cab. "Come home with me, ReadyEddie. Please, pretty please?" She pouts and pulls on my arm.
I straighten back from her and step back up onto the sidewalk. "No, but thanks, Angela."
"You're no fun at all," she says, slumping back against the seat.
"Thanks, Edward. Angela is right, you are a really good guy," Jessica says. Fuck me. I'm a good guy? This is so fucked up.
I shut the door to the cab and watch it pull away. I could really use a drink. A drink and Bella. Tonight has been fucking full of bullshit. I've been dealt a virtual bomb from Carlisle, then Emmett and Rose and their ridiculous plan which has clearly backfired, and now Angela.
I need to get back to the loft. There's so many emotions flowing through me right now, I need to get them out, but I also just don't want to leave Bella in there with Chef Hans. The thought of her going home with him is just about killing me, because if Bella's going home with anyone it's damn well going to be me.
Seeing Angela tonight has been a massive wake up call. To think that I was seriously considering spending the rest of my life with her gives me a full body shiver. She doesn't hold a fucking candle to Bella. No one does.
I also know I've been sent into a tailspin of emotion with Carlisle's dump of information. My brain is working a mile a minute, and suddenly, I'm acutely aware of how much time I've already wasted; wasted with random women and one night stands, wasted with this ridiculous game that Bella and I seem to have inexplicably fallen into. I don't want to play games anymore.
I turn and start back up the street towards the bar. I get to the door, and over the irritating hip hop blaring out, I hear Bella's unmistakably loud and extremely drunk voice drift to me from half way down the other end of the street.
"I don't play games. Well, maybe only with one person." She laughs loudly, but somehow it sounds off, like she's nervous or something.
I narrow my eyes to try to focus on what the hell is going on. It's dark, but I can see her little body up against the wall of the building, and some asshole has got his hands on either side of her face. What the fuck is this?
I pick up the pace, the blood racing through my veins. He's leaning in towards her. I can't hear what the fuck he's saying. I can't see her face, so I don't even know if she likes what he's saying. Fuck, why did I leave her in there? And where the hell is Chef Mike or Emmett for that matter? Why would they let her leave when she's clearly wasted?
I'm finally close enough to see her and now I'm really pissed off, because clearly she's scared and panicked. Her eyes are wide as he stares down at her like she's some defenseless prey just waiting to be pounced on…which quite frankly, right now she is.
"Why don't you tell me your name and then we can play?" This guy's voice is rough and low and…vaguely familiar.
"Play?" she asks innocently, staring back at him like a deer in the headlights. She's got no idea how tempting she is.
"Bella!" I yell as I finally come within arms length of her. The guy pulls away from her and whips his hoodie up onto his head. He turns from me so I can't see his face, which is probably a good thing because it would be smashed into the ground if I could see it.
I come to a stop mere inches from her and the guy bolts down the street. Bella cowers and then, very subtly, slides her body towards me. "Bella, I think you should go inside," I say through gritted teeth while I stare at this asshole as he picks up the pace, breaking into a run.
Yeah, you fucker. You better run. I take a step away from Bella and towards this jerk because right now there is nothing more I'd like to do than to pound the shit out him.
"Edward, don't. I'm not worth it," Bella says quietly, bringing me immediately out of attack mode and reminding me that there is, in fact, other things I'd like to do right now.
I turn back to her and her face is flushed, she's breathing heavier, she looks like she's going to pass out. Holy shit, did he hurt her?
"Bella, are you alright? Did he hurt you?" I ask, a new wave of panic and adrenaline hitting my system.
She shakes her head, tilts forward slightly, and then starts laughing. I don't know what's so fucking funny about this right now.
"There's nothing funny about this, Bella. You could have been really hurt by that asshole," I say sharply.
"We were just playin' a game. And why do you care, anyway, Edward?" she asks drunkenly, trying to straighten up and sound all authoritative.
"I care, Bella. What are you doing out here by yourself?" I ask, realizing I'm sounding a bit parental and probably slightly annoying.
"I can take care of myself, Edward," she says, turning to take a step and tripping forward. I catch her around the waist from behind before she falls. Holy fuck, I feel my dick brush against her ass.
She takes a sharp breath in, her upper body stiffens and she turns back to me, staring up, biting her lip, looking like she's going to cry. Her little body pressed against mine is shaking. This fucker has really scared her and now I'm sorry I didn't go after him, I'm sorry I decided to make her jealous, I'm sorry for a lot of things.
"I'll take you home, ok? My car is just down the street," I suggest. Bella's house…inside her bedroom…putting her to bed. My dick twitches and that doesn't go unnoticed by Bella.
She blinks at me, her eyes glossy from too many shooters. "I should tell Rose and Alice. Oh, wait! Mikey! He's out here somewhere." Her eyes grow wide and she looks up and down the street frantically. Fuck Chef Mike. She's actually considering letting me take her home and now he's fucking ruining it.
"I'm sure Mike is fine. He's a big boy and you can call Rose from the car."
Her eyes roll back in her head slightly and she leans into me. I'm immediately overcome with how she feels; warm and perfect. She nestles her face into my chest and I stifle a groan.
"I should go back to the bar," she mutters into my shirt.
"Bella, you need to get home. Stop being so stubborn and just let me help you." Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen a more stubborn woman in my life.
"M'ok," she says. She sounds like she's going to fall asleep or something.
I'm kind of in shock that she's agreeing to someone helping her. "Ok?" I ask, pushing back from her slightly. Her eyes are closed and she's swaying a bit. Drunk Bella is just as hot as Sober Bella. She's got her eyes shut and is rocking rhythmically to some tune she's got going on only in her head. She lifts her hair up from her neck and tries to tie it in a pony tail while she continues to rock back and forth. Oh, sweet mother of God. I need to get her home and in bed. I mean not with me…although that's tempting as hell. She needs to sleep.
"Come on, Bella." I pull on her gently and she shuffles forward, still swaying her hips, which I, of course, immediately put my hands on to steady her.
"Watch it, Mr. Frisky," she says over her shoulder. I laugh and move my hand to her arm while we make our way to my car. Opening the door for her, she slips in, drops her bag on the floor, and rests her head into the seat.
I bring the seatbelt around her and buckle it into place, my fingers lightly touching her thigh before practically running to the driver's side. My heart is racing in my chest as she sits beside me and turns her head to watch me. The car is filled with the essence of her, wrapping me in a bubble of contentment that I don't ever want to escape from.
As she closes her eyes and listens to Tchaikovsky invade the car, I realize that it's quite possible she'll not even remember this in the morning. That the little steps we've taken tonight could all be washed away once she wakes up in the morning. I know that I have a lot of apologizing and explaining to do, regardless of whether or not she remembers. And now, I'm ready to do it. I'm ready to do whatever the fuck she wants.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out her cell phone. She presses a few buttons and then holds it up to her ear, her hand shaking. I continue to drive towards her house and she rolls her eyes. "Voice mail," she says. "Hey, hey hey, Rose. It's Bella. You rememba me? The person you guys are always tryin to set up? I'm just gettina ride home with Edward, so don't worry about me, ok? Okey dokey. Call me tomorrow, sistaaaaa." She laughs and throws her phone back into her bag. A drunk Bella is an interesting Bella, but I'd much rather her be sober so we can talk and finally figure this out.
"Hmm, Edward?" she asks, sleepily. "What was that guy's name again?"
I feel my fingers tighten around the steering wheel and my jaw set. "I don't know, Bella. Did he tell you his name?" Oh fuck, I'm fairly certain it's not a good idea for me to know who this guy is. I mean, clearly he didn't hurt her, but he certainly scared the hell out of her, and God only knows what he would have done if…
"John. No wait…" She looks up to the ceiling of the car as if it holds the name of this idiot. "Maybe it was George? No, that's not right. Hey, I'm just like you! I can't remember anybody's name either." She laughs. I deserve that…and a whole lot more. "Jason? Maybe it was Jason."
"I'm not sure, Bella. He's gone now, so you don't have to worry about him."
I'm rewarded with a drunken, yet genuine smile. I pull up in front of her house and turn the car off. She sighs and I get out, quickly moving to the passenger side and opening the door. She stays leaned back, her eyes closed, fumbling to push the button to release the seat belt. She finally is successful and smiles widely, looking extremely proud of herself.
I extend my hand into the car and -shock of all shocks-she actually takes it, allowing me to pull her gently out. I feel warmer instantly and calmer with her hand in mine. I shut the door and she releases my hand, fishing around in her bag. She pulls out her keys and waves them at me. "See? I'm good," she says.
I stay beside her, my hand ready to catch her in case she stumbles, while she takes the steps up to her door. She props the screen door open with her hip, and struggles to get the key into the lock. I fight the overwhelming urge to just do it for her, but she seems on a mission to prove a point, so I'm not going to stop her.
She finally gets the key in the lock and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder at me and issuing me a satisfied smirk. I lean against the opened screen door, and she drops her bag on the floor, just staring at it.
"You ok, Bella?" I ask, fighting to not take the next step into her house until she asks me to.
"Mmm," she moans. Fuck me...don't do that right now. That sound is making me crazy. "Come in for a bit, Edward."
I take a sharp breath in, and hear the glorious sound of the screen door click into place behind me as I shut it. I shuffle forward and close the inner door, leaning against it.
I take a scan of her house. It's all earth tones and deep cinnamon colours, but nothing on the walls. Nothing? Minimalism at its best…revealing absolutely nothing to me about who she is. A generic, almost industrial feel in what would be an otherwise warm room. I could change that. I can actually see my paintings on her walls. This is where they need to be...this where they're supposed to be.
She runs her hands through her hair and then turns to me, tilting to one side. "Thank you, Edward. I'm pretty sure I woulda done something really, really stupid tonight with James," she says. My heart stops beating and her eyes grow wide. She stares back at me, her eyes a little less glossy than they were earlier. "That was his name…James. I think I need aspirin."
Holy fuck, so do I.
Chapter End Notes
Well, what do you think of Edward now?
Up next, a Drunkella POV…the buzz of the alcohol is wearing off.
Twitter: CarLemon
Sigh- Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto Serenade for Strings in C major, Op. 48:
www(dot)youtube(dot).com/watch?v=xsGRglp6tvs