Blister in the Sun Part 5

For PTB's Smut University 2014
Prompt: UST and the Art of a Slow Burn by Hoodfabulous

Warnings: Cheating and heartbreak.

I hear them when I walk through the door. Well, I hear her. She's shouting so loud, so fast, so angry, that I can hardly make out any of her words, but it seems the important ones are there, hanging in the air, as I grip onto the cool wood.

"Just tell me the truth, Edward!"

"What do you want me to say, Alice?" His voice is quiet but strong as it echoes down the stairs.

"There's something going on between you two! I just know it!"

"She's my best friend. You knew that. A year ago. When I asked you out."

She laughs as if she has all the bitter in the world on her shoulders. "That was before I knew."

"Fuck, Alice!" He sounds edgy now as if he's about to reach his breaking point. "We're friends. That's it. It's like you want there to be something more!"

This time, with her whisper so low, I can't be sure with what I hear, but I swear it sounds a lot like, "You might not feel anything for her, but I can guarantee, she feels something for you."

And the panic in my heart tightens it so hard that it's painful. It's hard to breathe, and everything begins to spin as I hold onto the door with precarious fingers.

"Alice," he says, and I can only imagine him, shaking his head, tired fingers running through wild beach-kissed hair. "Please. Don't do this."

"You're so stupid." He moves, and then there's the sound of lips and tongues so soft, so wet, with these tiny murmurs, whispered under bated breaths, all desperate and needy, and three little words, I pretend I don't hear.

I slam that door with more force than necessary. The frame vibrates with my fury. Or maybe it's my misery. The tears making their way down bronze-burnt cheeks tell me it's the latter.

"Bell?" he calls down, his voice cracking with all the problems on his shoulders. "Is that you?"

"Yeah." I try not to let the tears come through, to show how he unknowingly breaks my heart. I'm sure I fail, but his own failure is probably too much for him to see beyond. "I wanted to help set up."

"Thanks!" he yells, his voice muffled as if he's pressing his face against his girlfriend's heart. "We'll be down in a second."

I use that second to wipe away the wet on my cheeks, but my dry skin and the red in my eyes can be blamed on too much salt, too much sun. I know. I've done it before. So that when their footsteps on the stairs echo in my ears, I'm not worried that he'll catch me crying. When he rounds the corner, his sad green eyes seeking me out, he doesn't notice anyway.

"Hey, Bell."

"Eddie. You ready? Everyone's excited for tonight."

"Yep. Party of the summer, right?" he says, walking by, briefly setting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah. It's going to be awesome." He doesn't notice the way my voice deflates as his fingers slip from my skin with his departure into the kitchen…but Alice does.

She stares at me like a girl with her heart in her eyes, and for a moment, we understand each other. "He's so stupid."

That's when I know. Her and I? We're more alike that we want to admit.

Jasper finds me when the alcohol is flowing strong and the beat of the music flows through my veins, jumping with each pulse through the speakers. His hands pull me from the crowd of sweat and grind, his lips hushing the protest trying to escape my mouth.

"I'm not done with you yet, babe." He smiles against the kiss."Let's fuck here." The hall is empty, the dark of the night creeping in on our young bodies, with the shadows of the other party-goers walking along the edges of the light. We never truly understand the consequences of our actions until it's too late.

All that practice, all that loving behind closed doors, on my bed, in his car, warm on the beach, swaddled in sand and ocean salt, always has his fingers turning me to putty because that's how good this ex-virgin has become, but I can't. "Wait, Jasper…"

"Come on, babe," he says between his kisses. "Let's do this. I'll make it good. You know I will."

I do, but it doesn't seem right, in this house with too many memories of my heart and I, so I shake my head, refusing his advances. "Not tonight, Jasper."

He whines and his desperation is almost cute. "Bella, I'm so horny right now." I push him, watching as he stumbles on his feet, the little pout curving his eyebrows down. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, kissing those lines across his brow away. "I'm just not up for it tonight."

"But why?"

I laugh at the clueless look he gives me and nudge him toward the party. "I'm sure there's plenty of girls here looking for a good time."

And the look he gives me reminds me of that night on the beach where he was so unsure, so scared. "But—"

"Don't tell me that you—self-proclaimed sex-extraordinaire—is scared?"

The way he squares his shoulder almost makes me laugh out loud with how determined he is. "No."

"Then go rock someone's night."

He smirks then, kissing my cheek, turning on his feet after a final, "Fine."

Edward finds me then, handing me a cup of something that burns its way down my throat. "Having fun, Bell?"

"Yep. You?"

"Fucking great." But the way he chugs his drink tells me he's not.

"What's the matter, Eddie?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

I lay my hand on his arm, giving him that look. "Edward Cullen."

He laughs, taking a swig of his beer, and shaking his head. "Alice."

"What's going on?"

"We're fighting."

"I'm sorry." I try to be, but I'm not really. "About what?"

He looks at me then, his green eyes swirling with so much. So much thought. So much contemplation. So many hidden feelings otherwise unknown as he steps closer, his body brushing mine, his head dipping as I rise onto my tippy toes on instinct to greet him. And for the second time in our friendship, I think he's going to kiss me.

"Nothing," he whispers close to my mouth.

"It's not nothing." And it's like the conversation has shifted. Like suddenly we're talking about something else. Like he's asking me a question with his eyes and his lips and his body pressing forward so subtly. It's hard to remember Alice, but I know I can't be that girl with him, so I step away before we do something we'll both regret. "But I'll let you have your secrets."

"Thanks, Bell." We clink our drinks together.

"You should find her." It kills me to say it, but he's still hers, no matter how much I wish it weren't true.

"What?" He seems genuinely surprised as if he can't believe the words I'm saying.

"She's probably thinking about you as much as you're thinking about her."

He finishes off his beer. "You're right. I'm thinking…about her." And with a smile that I imagine is just the tiniest bit guilty sent in my direction, he's gone.

Without him, even amongst all of my friends and happy memories and sad goodbyes, I can't enjoy it because I know he's finding her to fix what they have when all I want is for that brokenness to be shattered even more. I'm a horrible person, and being here within this innocent good, has the guilt eating at my heart, so I escape up the stairs, seeking for a reprieve from it all. That isn't what I find. Not a solace from the dangerous thoughts. But an answer to my prayer. And I'm not sure if I'm thankful for it or not.

In their haste, they didn't close the door, and their moans and groans and bed-rocking of pleasure can be heard as soon as I reach the second floor. It's like she wanted to be found. To be seen. To be heard. Because they are all that's in my mind. Their naked flesh moving against each other. Alice and Jasper entwined in their own desire, and before I can hide them from the world as they should have done in the first place, he's sees them, sneaking up behind me, his breaths harsh with the tears falling from his eyes.

"Eddie…"

The look he gives me about breaks my heart. "Not now, Bella."

"Edward?"

He turns without another word, disappearing down the stairs. Alice is scrambling, pushing away from Jasper, falling from the bed as she reaches for her scattered clothes, calling out for the boy running away, but it means nothing as I chase after him when she can't.

He's gone up the ladder, hiding within the green. "Edward?"

My only answer is his sobs muffled against the wood. It takes all my energy to ascend, climbing into that tree of childhood now marred by adult's heartache. He refuses my comfort when I join him.

"Not now, Bella."

"Please, Edward," I whisper, grabbing onto his hand, willing his hurt to vanish because now that I have my wish, I hate how it makes him cry, and I wish I'd never made it at all. "Let me help you."

He jerks his head so fast even I'm dizzy, but it's me he glares at. Me he unloads all of that anger on. "You of all people? Now that's stupid."

He's never said a harsh word to me, and now that he has, it breaks my heart. No, it disintegrates it. I glare down at my knees, hoping he can't see my tears in the dark. "I'm sorry."

And I hope he knows just what I'm sorry for.

His hand is warm on my bare shoulder as his body heat surrounds me in the small space. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

I can't look at him, not with my heart flowing from grieving eyes, so I ignore the way his fingers dance across my skin. How they touch and smooth the red burnt in from the sun. How they wrap around, following each bump of my spine downward until where the hem of my tank top ends just inches above my shorts. And the only thing that makes me meet the green in his eyes rather than the faded green on the walls, is his whisper against my cheek where it flows down to warm my neck, sending goose bumps across my flesh both bare and hidden by suddenly unwanted clothes.

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry, Bell."

And that should be the end of it, but the way he traps me on the wall, his hand pressing against wood so close to my face, his lips breathing air against my own, and holy fuck, do I want him to kiss me so fucking bad.

"Eddie…"

"I'm sorry, Bell," he whispers again. "I'm so sorry."

He's there, and fuck if he's so close, and all I want is to close those small millimeters between us and taste him for the first time. But his green eyes are swirling again, and this time they're cloudy with agony. As if he can't see beyond his own heartbreak. As if he can't feel beyond his own pain. As if he searches for something…anything…to make it all better.

And I know, despite my feelings for him, despite the way only he's the only one who can make my heart beat with this rush of excitement, I can't accept his kiss. His loving. Not like this. Not with Alice still on his mind, and her betrayal so fresh against his heart.

"Eddie…wait…"

"Can I kiss you, Bell?"

His breath smells like the alcohol he drank in the house, and though I'm tempted to give in, I push him away. He fights my hands, pressing against my strength. "Eddie, no."

"Please, Bell. Please. I need this."

"Eddie…"

"I need to show Alice…"

"Not like this, Eddie. Not like this."

And then he breaks down, slumps against my body, where he cries his sadness into my shoulder. I hold him like any good friend would do.