A/N- I told you all I wouldn't make you wait too long again. I cannot say enough about the reviews/support I got after the last chapter. Completely made me feel like a very girly/less buff version of superman. Can't thank you all enough.
I also can't say enough about sah0004 who has become my personal ff coach. She pushes and motivates and seriously knows her way around some spelling/grammar. She's fantastic and this wouldn't be here without her.
***
It's a funny thing settling back into normal life when nothing about me is what I used to call normal. And yet, I sit at my desk, a chai in front of me whileAng and Jake argue, and it feels normal. I shift a little in my seat getting used to the feeling. Knowing that even though my whole core has shifted to make room for Edward, and love, and maybe even a sliver of space for my mother, I feel calm. Why does that freak me out just a little?
"Izzy. Please tell this overgrown idiot that while he thinks that hookahs are 'kick ass' they are in no way appropriate for a charity fundraiser." Angela's voice breaks me from my attempt at panic, and I can't help but laugh. Jake has his arms crossed like he thinks I might actually side with him. Maybe that incense is leaking into his brain.
I pick up my empty pencil cup and chuck it at Jake's head. It actually hits him, and he stares at me while he wails about possible brain damage. Please. Angela has a kind of crazy smile on her face as she watches him wallow.
"Both of you calm the hell down. No hookahs Jake. And Ang, please stop tormenting the intern. We really don't pay him much and can't afford to lose him. Play nice children," I command. They both hang their heads just a little before retreating to their separate corners of the room. Once the excitement settles, I try to settle back into my panic, but its nowhere to be found. I don't know how I feel about that.
For years I've been running from the possibility of settling, from the idea of having one person so attached to me I could possibly tear them to shreds. And now, hell, sometimes I want to tie a rope around Edward's torso and drag him around with me everywhere. How sick is that?
I glance at my phone and resist the urge to call said new attachment. Going to his parents' shook something loose in him. He's beenon the warpath, attempting to open his own accounting firm. And I'm not beyond admitting that I miss it when he was unemployed and available to me at a whim.
Simon was more than happy to be his first client, and if it wasn't enough that I was sharing Edward with work, I have to know that he and Simon and chumming it up in the presence of LP greatness. And I am stuck listening to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum argue.
My lip juts out in an unconscious pout as I stare at the silent phone. At least I can have the assurance that while I am at ease with this new love thing, I am no closer to being an adult than I was before. Somehow I thought it would be like magic. Fall in love and wake up an adult, like some sort of fairy tale. Didn't happen
"Did you confirm with the bands?" Ang asks. I shake thoughts of pencil neck from my head and focus on her. Right, work now. Pencil neck later. It doesn't help that we are ramping up for what might be our biggest fundraiser ever.
"Yeah, I got three confirmed, with a fourth teetering," I sigh. Angela nods and types furiously at her computer. My focus wanes again as I try to make sense of the words swimming in front of me. This is not working. I let my head rest on the desk. My eyelids lower and then there's haze.
"Izzy, get your ass up and quit drooling on my paperwork." Someone should contract Angela to voice an alarm clock. There is no sleeping through her. I lift my head and swipe my hand over my mouth, collecting the moisture there. Why Edward finds me sleeping endearing I will never understand.
"I'm so sorry Ang," I slur, still a little sleepy. She rolls her eyes and kicks at my chair. The movement brings everything into focus just a little more. My eyes find the windows and I groan at the sight of the low sun. I slept for hours. I meet Angela's eyes and try to smile apologetically. She rolls her eyes and shoves a paper at me.
"This is the list of vendors I need you to check in with. Maybe you'll have better luck outside of the office," she sighs. I take the list willingly and stand up. I stretch a little before throwing my arms around Angela's retreating form. She stiffens under my grasp at first. She relaxes gradually.
"I'm sorry I'm a flighty pain in the ass Ang," I state. She bats at my hands.
"Shut up. I may be the slave driver, but you're the creative genius and all that shit. Get outta here," she chides. I hold my hands up in surrender and back towards the door. Maybe I do need fresh air, a better distraction.
I step outside and feel a littler lighter without four walls around me. Just as I'm releasing the last of my tension, my phone chimes. I dig through my bag and smile when I grasp it in the mess.
"Hello?" A tiny squeal comes through the phone and the smile on my face almost hurts. I should be slightly offended that a four year old can operate a cell phone better than I can, but I just love that she chooses to use her talents to call me.
"Bella! My mom said I could call you 'cause you might not be busy. And I had dance class today and we got to wear the noisy shoes," she rambles. Probably one of my favorite outcomes of the Cullen family get together was meeting this little girl.
"Yeah? I tried to take dance class when I was little, but I liked to wear the noisy shoes on my hands instead of my feet, so I wasn't allowed to come anymore," I answer. She giggles and the noise is amazing. I kind of want to carry her around with me all day.
"Ms. Shelly said noisy shoes are only allowed when we pay lots and lots of 'tension," she continues. I smile again and hold back my laugh. There isn't any doubt in my mind as to why Edward loves her and her mother so much. They're like tiny bursts of sunshine in human form. She continues to detail her day to me, from the crab she found on the beach, to the little boy in her preschool class who ate the raw pasta meant for the art project. I listen intently not wanting to miss a moment and am almost sad when she releases the phone to her mother. It was such a nice break from reality.
"I would say that I'm sorry that she bugs you, but I know you won't hear it. So I'll just skip it. How's the day?" Alice asks. I smile again, never endingly grateful for the woman on the other end of the phone. I can't hear her voice without thinking of her words that night, and knowing how they may have finally knocked some sense into Edward.
"The day is long. And I swear to high heaven if I can't get your cousin to stop bringing his work to bed, I am going to kick his ass back to his own apartment," I seethe. Alice laughs and I sigh. I shouldn't complain. I really shouldn't, but when receipts and numbers come to bed. Other things don't….come.
"Oh sweetie. Good luck with that. I was hoping that maybe you'd be willing to spend Saturday with Skye and I? I've never really shown her Central Park and I think she'd like it," Alice answers. I don't even try to suppress the smile. I know this is a big deal for her. Edward had told me how much she hated to leave their little house.
"Of course. I'll play tour guide and maybe I can even drag Edward away from work," I supply. She laughs and we figure out the details. I snap the phone closed and turn my face up towards the sun. Too soon I force my eyes back down to my list. Back to reality for me.
The errands go quickly, the city cooperating with me for once. I leave the florist and pull out Romeo. I press down the six and am glad Edward programmed my speed dial. Even if I did give him crap about it at the time.
"If you're looking for Lady GaGa, you won't find her here," Simon's voice answers and I smile as I sink onto a bench. I'm not calling because I'm worried. Edward is in good hands with Simon. You can't help but feel relaxed and restored when you're with him.
"Just the man I was looking for," I reply. I hear his chuckle.
"Yeah? Why am I so lucky as to garner that honor?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders even though I know he can't see it. I really want to head over to the shop, but I don't want to look like a hovering mother hen. Not that I have any kind of mother like feelings towards Edward. That would just be, ugh, so wrong.
"Can't I just call in and chat?" I quip. Another laugh. This would work better if Simon didn't know me so well.
"So this call has nothing to do with the fact that your no numbered friend is here?" he presses. I sigh and smile. Caught red handed and I can't even be bothered to care.
"It may have a little something to do with that," I admit. The feeling of need is still new to me. I'm only just getting used to the way it feels, rustling around inside of me. The way my heart flutters like a flock of rogue butterflies at even the thought of Edward. And now I sound like a teen pop ballad. Look what he has reduced me to.
"He's still holed up in the back, mumbling something about bad habits running in the family. Did you know we where related Iz?" Simon laughs. I chew a little on my lip as I think about the first time we met. I hear Simon before I realize that I should probably listen.
"What was that?" I ask.
"Ok Iz, spill. What's going on with you?" he demands. I wince. This is no-nonsense Simon. No use trying to deter him.
"I'm just trying to find a fourth act for the benefit, and I'm freaking out because I don't even know how to be a fucking girlfriend and I really want to be a good girlfriend, and Edward spends more time with you than with me and I don't like being jealous of you," I ramble. It takes Simon almost three city buses stopping in front of me to stop laughing.
"Oh sweetie. Wow. I'm just not used to you being such a….girl. Um, let's see what we can do about this," he sighs.
"First, let me see if I can call some people I know about playing for the benefit. As far as being a good girlfriend, I don't really have experience there, but you have a pretty low key guy here Iz, I'm sure you just showing up makes this idiot happy."
I nod along with his words, needing to hear someone say those things out loud, even if I already knew they were true. I have no reason to doubt our relationship. Edward has a shit ton of reasons to be wary of me, but I don't have that excuse.
"As for being jealous of me, sweetie, that's just the lay of the land. Get used to it," he teases. I let myself laugh. The sad thing is that I'll probably always have to battle these demons. I wish I could be instantly cured, magically become completely secure in love. But I can't.
"We can't all be as secure in our role in the universe as you are Simon," I sigh. The sun dips lower in the sky and I abandon my bench for home.
"You want to talk to him? I'm sure he'd take a break," Simon offers. It's tempting, but I know how it is when he gets in his groove.
"Just don't let him bring anything home. Please?" I'm not above begging. I will have a night alone with him. Without spread sheets and receipts between us.
"Absolutely doll, I'll do what I can," Simon assures me. I snap the phone shut and change course. The words are still hard for me, sticking to the roof of my mouth at the best of times, but I can show him. And show him I will.
***
Sometimes you don't know how much you miss something until it comes back. Sadly, that's how I feel about the numbers. Not that I wasn't happy bumming around, being at Bella's beck and call. But there is something about really being able to lose myself in my work that just recharges me.
It's still early. I just barely got my business license, and Simon was nice enough to pretend that he needed my services. I calledViolet and she was all too happy to give her two weeks' notice. She now uses her lunch breaks to hassle me about advertising and try to convince me to 'borrow' clients from the firm. But it feels right, like I can actually do this, like I might actually succeed. And it's an odd feeling.
Aside from Bella, I haven't wanted anything for myself since the accident. Life just happened around me and I did what I had to, to survive. But she jump started something inside of me I'm not sure I knew still existed, and now I'm starting to want things. Want a future that looks, and feels, and sounds a certain way.
The business is the first step. I know Bella wouldn't care if I worked at a gas station, as long as I was happy. And that alone makes me want this more, for myself. Because I want to know that I can build something that could provide. That could put walls and warmth around the things I love.
And then I'm going to work on the way I want my future to sound. Hanging in a record store for a few weeks definitely isn't hurting the itch I'm starting to feel. Simon always has something spic on in the background. A rare b-side, or a fantastic acoustic set, and its making me remember all the things I loved about music.
The song changes and the simple chords stop my number crunching. I listen to the words and the guitar, and the itch turns into a burn. I eye the guitar leaning against the wall of the office and glance towards the door. It wouldn't hurt, couldn't hurt.
It takes longer than it should for me to reach the guitar. I stare at it for a while, anxious about the demons it could bring to the surface, but wanting to be wrong so fucking bad.
The song fades and I panic. I need the trigger to continue. I take several quick steps to the door.
"Simon! Play that one again would you?" I call. He doesn't reply, but the song starts over again. I don't allow for the stuttering steps on my way back. I pick up the guitar and slump down against the wall, cradling it in my hands. This part isn't hard. This is something I've done countless times in recent years. The hard part is getting past this.
I swallow and lick my dry lips as I adjust my hands. They slide into place without hesitation. Maybe the hesitation is all just in my mind. My fingers brush across the strings, too soft to make any noise. My eyes slide closed and I really listen to the song this time, testing my ear.
And then my fingers do the work for me. They press into the strings and begin to pick their way through the song. My chest feels tight, but I don't let it slow me down. It feels so damn good. Like a part of me is finally waking up. As the song winds down again, I'm matching the chords perfectly. The notes fade out and I realize I'm breathing heavily.
"She said you could play. I didn't believe her." I crane my neck to see Simon in the doorway. I swallow thickly and look back down at the guitar. The nerves fight at my mind, wanting to take over, Simon's presence being the perfect reason.
"I don't usually. I mean, I can, but I haven't…" I'm not sure how to explain this to him. The man who Bella considers a surrogate father. It doesn't seem like it would help my cause at all. He waves away my words and passes me a record. The cover looks old, but the name and date tell a different story.
"What's this?" I ask.
"It's the album I was playing. Take it, test it out. It obviously spoke to you," Simon replies. I hold it in my hands and wonder if it will have the same power at home. And I wonder if I am ready to share the itch with Bella. The tension in my chest returns, and I know I'm not ready. I want to be, and I refuse to believe it's far off, but not yet.
"Thank you," I state not able to say anything else. If I wasn't already convinced he was a king of men because of Bella, he would have had me convinced in about two minutes flat.
"Now get your ass out of my shop. As much as I appreciate your attention to detail, you need a night off," he insists. I roll my eyes and stand slowly. I slowly ease the guitar back against the wall and make my way back to the desk.
"Just give me an hour to wrap up," I concede. Simon clicks his tongue and raises an eyebrow.
"You say an hour and then you're here two. I will not have Iz all over my ass cause I'mhogging you. Go home. It will all be here waiting for you tomorrow," he orders.
"Go take care of our girl," he adds.
When he says it like that, I do miss her. Not that I don't see her every morning and most nights, but I know I've been far away. Lost in the process of finally being able to get my head out of my ass and do something with myself.
A tiny hue of guilt crosses over me. I should be more attentive. Shit, I've been neglecting her. The person responsible for my awakening, and I'm selfishly reveling in my discovery. God damn.
I shove a few things into my briefcase and all but race out the door. I think I managed to offer Simon some sort of goodbye before I left, but I don't really give a shit. He'll understand. There are things, people that are more important.
My shiny shoe taps against the floor of the subway as I wait for my stop. At some point, I've stopped bothering with my apartment all together. It was never really mine to begin with. Hannah picked it, Hannah decorated it, and Hannah lived there. I existed there, nothing more.
The possibilities of a future with Bella fill my head and I can't help the goofy smile on my face. An older woman across from me glares at me like I'm a pervert, but I can't help it. Just the chance of getting to have Bella around for a really long time makes life seem a whole hell of a lot more exciting.
The rest of the trip is filler, just something I have to get through to get to her. I take the stairs to her place two at a time because I am that anxious to just be near her. To make sure she knows that she's still the spark behind everything.
I rush into the apartment out of breath and probably a little sweaty. It's mostly quiet, Emmett's familiar form missing from the couch. There's faint music coming from the kitchen, so I drop my stuff and wind my way back. She must not have heard my grand entrance, because she's dancing. Dancing, around the kitchen. The music is soft and sensual and I almost want to just watch. She moves between the counter and the stove, dropping ingredients into a large pan and bringing a large wooden spoon to her lips occasionally to taste.
The sight of that spoon brings back memories, good warm memories that make my pants feel just a little tighter. I knew she could cook. She'd given me little lessons and I'd heard rumors, but never in person. I watch a little longer, appreciating the loose, torn jeans and thread bare white v-neck she's wearing.
I make my way towards her, pulling a stool out from underneath the bar, careful to make a lot of noise in the process. She stops mid twirl and meets my eyes. I smile, and the simple sight of her smiling back causes me to need to adjust my pants. God, is this how its going to be tonight?
"You're home," she states, the smile still in place. My grin widens with the word 'home'. Something else we need to talk about. I want my home to be with her, I'm scared shitless that even the suggestion might cause her to run, but that doesn't mean I don't want it.
"I'm home," I confirm. She does a less than graceful leap and hoists herself up across the counter offering her lips to me. I don't hesitate to meet her half way. Its brief and I come away tasting the spices from what she's cooking. I lick my lips liking the spices mixed with her own taste.
She slides back across the counter and resumes her dancing, completely unembarrassed by my ogling. And this just reminds me of why I can't get enough of her. She'd let me ogle her any time, and I love that. That she doesn't give a shit that she really can't dance, or that every once in a while she loses her footing and almost falls. She just laughs at herself and smirks back at me.
"You're cooking," I observe. She smiles and rolls her eyes.
"Wow, really? Is that what I'm doing?" she asks. I smile and she snaps a dish towel in my direction. I even lover her sarcasm. She lowers her head as she chops some garlic, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates.
"What are you making me?" I press. She glances up from her chopping.
"You think I'm cooking for you? Isn't that a bit optimistic?" she teases. I push off the stool and walk around the counter. I lean into her, surrounding her with my arms, trapping her.
"I know you wouldn't deny me, if I asked. And I know that despite your better judgment, you kinda love me. So, yeah. I'm pretty fucking optimistic," I breathe into her hair. She shivers and I press into her more fully. It may be a little chauvinistic to be turned on by my girl cooking for me, but I can't help it.
"It's just pasta," she downplays. Just pasta? I know that can't be true. I move closer to the food, so I can smell it, and it doesn't smell like 'just pasta'.
"You're talking to the man who thinks tuna is a culinary masterpiece, there is nothing just about pasta," I correct her. She chuckles and the shaking of her body against mine makes my eyes roll back into my head just a little. Her lips meet mine, forcing my eyes back into focus.
"It's almost done and then….we'll see to that," she breathes, grinding herself into me. I hiss at the contact and then groan when she ducks out of my hold. As good as the food smells, the after show sounds better. I lean back against the sink and just watch. This moment should be part of one of those hallmark moments. I feel mushy and cheesy and would never admit that to another man.
All this feeling and optimism is just bursting from me. This is what I want, what I look forward to, what's pushing me to do more. Bella nudges her hip into mine to move me from the sink as she dumps the pasta into the strainer. Steam billows up and fogs up my glasses. I take them offand wipe them on Bella's shirt. She slaps at my hands.
She turns back to the stove and begins to mix everything together. The result is a huge bowl of pasta, full of green, red, and white. My mouth waters a little.
"You ready to eat?" she asks. I nod enthusiastically. She grabs a fork from the drawer and hops up on the counter. I feel my forehead crease in confusion. My eyes dart over to the bare kitchen table and back to her. She shakes her head and beckons me to her. I don't need to be told twice.
As I approach, she opens her legs and pulls me between them. She pecks my lips before reaching around me to spear some of the pasta on her fork. Her lips pucker as she blows on the still steaming food, cupping one hand underneath as she guides the fork into my open mouth.
I moan as I chew. I can't even help it. It's fresh and perfect. She grins and takes a bite for herself. I open my mouth and lean in hoping for more. Another forkful is placed in my mouth and I take my time, letting the fresh mozzarella melt in my mouth.
"There's something about sharing a bowl of pasta. It just seems more authentic," she informs me. She takes another bite and chews slowly, picking through the bowl to stab a shrimp for my next bite.
"You think Italians all share bowls?" I ask. She nods absent-mindedly. Of course she would think about that. Everything has layers with her, always more than meets the eye. She continues to feed us both until I can't take another bite. Then she leans forward, her forehead pressing against mine and just rests her lips against mine.
I know that I've just consumed enough garlic to probably warrant brushing my teeth, but I could care less. I open my mouth over hers, licking her lips, and sucking on the soft flesh of her jaw. Her legs wrap around my back and she opens her mouth to me.
The kiss is slow and wet. I explore every inch of her mouth before inviting her tongue to do the same. I want to know every part of her. She pulls away slowly, panting and smiling. I give her a second to recover before trying to dive back in, but she pulls her head away. I pout until her lips meet my neck.
She has amazing lips, soft and urgent at the same time. My hands wander toher back, eventually making their way under her shirt. I groan when I find nothing between my hands and her tits. How did I not notice before?
Her lips slow as I take my time pressing my palms against her breasts, feeling them respond to my touch. She whimpers a little before pushing me back, unwinding her legs from around me. I watch as she slides off the counter and presses against my chest again, pushing me against the cupboards behind me.
Her lips find my neck again as her hands work up and under my shirt. She pulls away briefly to pull the shirt up and over my head, and then attacks my torso. Somewhere, my rational mind is telling me to participate,to do something more than let her have her way, but I'm enjoying this way too much to move.
Slowly, she makes her way down my body, and my dick gets the message before my brain, because it strains against my pants. She licks along the waist of my trousers before popping open the button and sliding down the zipper slowly. I almost manage to tell her that she doesn't have to, but instead, all I do is whimper.
Her eyes raise to meet mine, and she locks gazes with me as she pushes my pants and boxers down below my knees. I worry that my excitement is going to slap her in the face, but it misses. She keeps her eyes on mine as she takes the tip into her mouth, sucking it like a lollipop. I gasp and grip the counter behind me to stay standing.
"Holy shit," I murmur.
This is something we've skipped before, not because I wanted to, because what guy doesn't want to, but its just never happened. Her mouth takes me in deeper, and I almost fucking fall on my face. Her lips and tongue travel up and down, and I resist the urge to fist her hair and really go at it.
She keeps the pace slow and the pleasure and tension build slowly. And then I can't take it any longer. As much as this is a fantasy of mine, I want her. I reach down and tug on her hand. She looks confused as I pull her up to her feet. I kiss her first, tasting myself on her.
"You don't want me to finish?" she asks.
"Not without you," I answer.
I lift her back onto the counter and pluck at the buttons on her jeans before sliding them down slowly. I hope to god she's ready, because I don't have much more foreplay in me. I take a nipple into my mouth through her shirt as I ease her jeans and panties off. Her head rolls back and I smile against her.
I swipe a finger through her folds testing her before, easing myself in.
"So glad you stopped me," she breathes, and I smile as I begin to work in and out of her. I chuckle and occupy her lips with mine. The pressure is already there, but I pace myself for her. I pull way from her lips wanting to see her eyes.
"I love you Bella," I state through gritted teeth. She chews on her lip and nods.
"I love you too," she sighs. The climax rolls over us both, and I hold her against me as she comes down. Her lips graze my shoulder over and over, and I just hold her there. Maybe not the moment Hallmark would have wanted, but I wouldn't change a thing.
***
A/N Happy about quicker reviews? Want to know what I was thinking? Or even just tell me what you were thinking.....
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