A/N: Sorry for a long delay in updating!
Edward:
I wake up with a jolt when I hear the hotel door slamming closed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I notice Isabella is gone.
She left?
I frown, turning on the light and seeing that she's taken all her belongings and left. Jumping out of bed, I pull on my trousers and shirt, then pick up the key card before running out of the hotel room. At the end of the hall I see the lift doors sliding closed.
As fast as I can I run towards the lifts, pressing the call lift button repeatedly. It's too late, I've missed her.
I still get in and go down to the hotel lobby, hoping she might have lingered.
She didn't.
I sigh heavily and run my hands through my hair, quickly jumping back in the lift when I see reporters. Why would she leave?
I thought… When I asked her out before, I didn't intend for it to end up as just sex again. The first time was fucking amazing, but I wanted to get to know her more. And I did. I learnt she dreams of opening her own publishing company in New York, along with her two best friends. She's beautiful and incredibly smart.
That dress she was wearing. God, I couldn't think straight! I figured we could talk more this morning. That is, until she left.
Once I reach the hotel room, a grin settles on my face for the first time this morning. My beautiful Isabella left her panties here.
I manage to grab a quick shower before I have Emmett, my trainer, knocking on my hotel door.
"What do you want, you big oaf?" I ask as I open the door to let him in.
"Just to call you an idiot," he replies, stepping into the room and handing me a magazine. I'm on the front cover, holding Isabella against me.
I smile just recalling the night.
"Who's your lady friend?" Emmett asks, sitting on the bed before quickly jumping up again. "Should I not want to be sitting here?" he says, pretending to look disgusted.
"Nah. You won't want to lean against that wall, either," I reply, smirking. "Her name's Isabella," I tell him.
Shit, I never found out her surname! How the hell am I going to find her?
"So where is she, then? You look pretty cosy in the picture," Emmett asks, walking over and flicking through the magazine to find the article.
"It is a pretty good picture. I'll have to frame it," I joke. Well, it's not a complete joke. "She left, before I woke up," I add, still hurt from what she did.
"Oooh, you were that bad?" Emmett teases.
"Fuck off. Judging by the moans and the amount of orgasms I gave her, it was pretty good," I tell him just to shut him up.
"Ew, I don't wanna know that!" Emmett whines, punching my shoulder. "Wait, was she the same girl as before?" Emmett asks.
I'm sincerely regretting telling him about what happened after the match with Riley Biers.
"Yes," I admit.
Emmett just nods, like he already knew. "You don't do one night stands." That's all he says by way of explanation.
I sigh heavily and flop down on the bed, kicking myself for not asking for her surname. She didn't even leave her number or anything!
"I didn't just come here to listen to your love life, you know," Emmett says. "We're leaving for New York tomorrow, to prepare for the New York open," Emmett tells me.
"Tomorrow? Isn't that a bit soon?" I ask, frowning. One thing I do know about Isabella is that she's most definitely English.
"She's just a girl, dude. What's up with you?" Emmett says, commanding me to pack before leaving the hotel room.
As he closes the door I raise my middle finger, feeling better even though he didn't see.
She's just a girl.
I barely even know her. Yes, she's incredibly beautiful, but there are other women.
Not like her.
Fuck, I'm losing my mind.
*****DEUCE*****
After an excruciatingly long training session, Emmett lets me go. Wimbledon may be my favourite place to play – I'm best on grass courts – I do love New York. Heat works to my advantage, as well as it being my home town. You can't beat a home crowd, with all your family and friends being able to watch.
I head back home in serious need of rest and a bath.
It would appear my parents have other ideas, however.
Mum calls me to tell me we're going out tonight as a family, not giving me chance to decline. Great.
Instead of a bath I have to settle for a shower, which is about ten times worse. As usual, images of Isabella pop into my mind, no matter how many times I tell myself I can't have her. She lives in London, I live in New York. Add to that the fact I'm always travelling, making any kind of long term relationship impossible.
When I arrive at the restaurant, Mum, Dad, my sister Angela and her husband Ben are all here. Despite being two years younger than me, Angela has already settled down.
"I've missed you so much, my sweet boy! Come; give your Mum a hug!" Mum demands, standing up and squeezing me tightly.
I roll my eyes, but hug her back just to appease her.
After she releases me I take my seat, next to Dad. I wonder how long Mum will last before she goes on at me for settling down.
"Hey, Ange," I smile at my baby sister. I haven't seen her in a while, though we usually speak on the phone.
"Hey big brother," she smiles back, ruffling my hair.
"So, Edward, who's the girl you were pictured with?" Mum asks, handing me over the magazine I've seen a million times.
I sigh heavily and loudly, hoping she can hear me. In the press statement, I said she was just a friend. No one believes it, but that's what I'll stand by.
"She's just a friend, Mum," I tell her, not looking her in the eye.
She'll know I'm lying.
"Just a friend, huh? And how many other friends do you hug like that?" Mum raises an eyebrow at me, not relenting. I don't say anything, hoping she'll drop it. "Could you at least tell me her name?" Mum asks.
"Her name is Isabella," I supply for her.
"Isabella what? Where's she from? Does she have a job?" Mum asks all in a rush, getting more and more excited. I glance over at Dad to see he's shaking his head at Mum. I'd do the same if I wasn't scared about getting shouted at.
"She's from England, and she was one of the ball girls," I tell Mum.
I'd rather not have to admit that I don't know her surname.
"What's her surname?" Mum pushes.
When I just shrug in response, Mum looks like she's about to kill me and then explode. Shit.
"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, I thought I taught you to behave better!" Mum shouts, rather loudly.
"Shhh!" I tell her.
"Don't you dare 'shhh' me, young man!" Mum shouts, just as loud.
I sink into my seat and hide my face, knowing that she'll attract attention to us.
Imagine that headline; Tennis hotshot Edward Cullen gets told off by his mother!
How incredibly embarrassing.
"I'm not young. I'm 27," I mumble petulantly.
"Anyway, Ben and I have news," Ange quickly interrupts, thankfully. I send her a silent look of thanks. "I'm pregnant!" Ange announces happily, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Congratulations, sis!" I tell her, before turning to Ben. "Congrats to you too."
Mum and Dad both look over the moon, excitedly rambling about how they're going to be grandparents soon. I sit back and let them all gush over the pregnancy, thankful the attention is off me.
My mind, however, decides that this is the perfect time to think about Isabella, and what our kids would look like.
Not a good thing to think about.
Not when it makes my chest hurts.
I rub at my chest and try to focus on the conversation, trying to forget about Isabella. Why is she always in my head? Why won't she leave me alone?
"You ok, Edward?" Dad asks. I nod meekly, and take a big gulp of my beer.
"Just tired from practise," I lie easily.
For the rest of the night, Mum focussed all her attention on Angela and Ben. I'm glad she doesn't shout anymore; doesn't she realise how shit I already feel about the situation?
"When are you going to settle down, Edward?" Mum asks me, looking sadly over at me.
"When I'm older. Tennis is my priority," I reply.
"That's what you always say," Mum sighs, frowning.
"I'm only 27, I've got plenty of time to worry about settling down," I tell, trying to sound convincing.
Later that night, when I'm lying in bed, I think about how I could find Isabella. There's no way, though. All I know is that's she's 22 and lives in London.
*****DEUCE*****
"Edward, your aim is shit today! Focus!" Emmett shouts from the side-lines.
I glare over at him while wiping sweat away from my forehead.
"Why don't you have a go, then?" I shout back.
"I'm not the one trying to win a major tournament!" he replies.
I mutter a series of curses, before another tennis ball is sent my way. I hit this one, actually on target. I channel all my anger into hitting the balls, imagining I'm hitting them at Emmett's head.
It works incredibly well.
After practise, Emmett comes over and slaps me on the back, asking what suddenly improved my aim.
"I imagined I was hitting the balls at your head," I tell him, wiping my face with the towel.
"Whatever works for you," he laughs, shaking his head at me. "How was the family last night?" he adds, grinning.
"Oh, just fan-fucking-tastic. Mum rather loudly shouted at me because I didn't know Isabella's surname," I tell him, walking off to the shower rooms.
"You still on about that girl? Look-" Emmett begins, but I cut him off.
"I don't need to fuck her out of my system. She's already out of it." That's a lie, but he doesn't notice. "I was only talking about her because Mum had a copy of the magazine."
Emmett guffaws at this information, so I leave him while I go shower.
I'll get over Isabella eventually, I know I will. It's only natural to hold feelings for someone you had sex with.
Great. Now I sound like a girl.
I'm fucked.
A/N: Thoughts on Edward's views about Bella? :D
Review please!