"Down on my knee, I fumble for the phone, read the silver bullets of your kiss. Take this...and this...and this...and this...and this..." -Carol Ann Duffy
This week I was staring at a pair of black, Vivienne Westwood Roman flats, which I'd cleverly named, my "Vivienne Westwood bondage shoes". Thankfully these required a slightly less powerful adjective to describe 'pricey' as they only cost $625.
I proof read my article for the third time as I thought about the past week; me and Alice had been emailing back and forth since Friday and it had become part of my daily routine to send a reply to her, whether it was about fashion (I soon found out that she'd gone to fashion school too), Eclipse or her brother.
Alice was more than willing to share information about her brother whenever she had the chance. For example, when I complained about the stresses of planning a wedding, she shared with me the details of what her brother's wedding was supposed to entail until the 'skank' cheated on him.
I still didn't know the name of the woman who'd made him so emotionally isolated; instead, she was always referred to as some rather colourful names. It was one of the few things I didn't know about her brother's life.
His name was Edward Anthony Cullen; he was thirty two years old and lived in Seattle working as a CEO for some business corporation. I also knew that he was currently living off In-N-Out burgers because he couldn't cook to save his life; his favourite cereal was Cinnamon Toast Crunch and he had a soft spot for classical music.
As the information she was giving me became more personal and more weird, I began to wonder whether Edward had any idea that Alice was sharing this kind of information with someone that was, allegedly, an Agony Aunt. I knew that he didn't know about the original letter that led to mine and Alice's growing friendship; however, I'm almost positive that no one would appreciate their own sister relaying this kind of information to someone that they don't know.
But I was worried that this kind of prying would make Alice feel uncomfortable about talking to me, although it had only been a week, I was quickly becoming close to Alice and I appreciated the chance to share worries such as having a wedding at such short notice without being burdened by the possibility that she could tell Jacob about the extent of my problems.
The fact was that I lived almost 3,000 miles away from Alice, I had no idea about her situation and I'd never met her or her brother. For all I knew, she could simply be telling me information about him that he tells everyone.
I giggled out loud at the thought of a grown man walking up to a girl at a bar with the line "Hey my name's Edward and I love Cinnamon Toast Crunch".
Either way, I did my best to keep the subject away from anything that could have some connection to her brother which would ultimately lead to more uncomfortable attempts at changing the conversation.
My caffeine fix was downgraded to the Coffee Bean as the Starbucks round the block was being refurbished, this meant my overpriced coffee was bitter and any chances of free Wi-Fi were restricted by some stupid 'loyalty card'. On the other hand, from the small corner in which we were sat, I could only just here the soft crooning of Otis Redding coming from the counter.
Angela was staring longingly at the dark haired cashier who was currently helping an old lady through the heavy door which led into the coffee shop-oh how Prince Charming. He'd also carefully scribbled a mobile number on the base of Angela's cup, but I was still deciding on whether or not to tell her this, depending on whether she'd actually provide me with some kind of company.
"Hey Angie, tell me how old you are again because you're acting like a thirteen year old", I smiled softly at her when she threw a sugar packet at me.
"He smiled at me when he handed me my coffee, do you think that means anything? Or does he smile at everyone?" She looked at the reflection of the glass frame behind me, trying to pat down any stray hairs that had been dislodged by the wind.
"I'm sure he was into you, Angie, why wouldn't he be? You look gorgeous by the way", I said, reaching forward to bring her hand down that was still furiously trying to make her ponytail look neater.
She sighed, looking over again at the counter.
"Go talk to him." I urged.
She looked over at me warily, "I don't think so Bella."
"Remember those self-help books you were telling me about? Surely you didn't read all those just to become shy when something like this happens. Talk to him."
"You think so?"
I glanced at the counter to find an unoccupied cashier staring at my best friend, "Definitely."
I watched as Angela slowly walked up to him, before my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, expecting an email from work about my article, only to find a notification from Facebook telling me I had a friend request from Alice Cullen.
I groaned inwardly at the internet speed, waiting for her profile to load, cursing that blasted loyalty card, before realising that this would be the first time that I saw the face of the woman I'd been talking to all week.
I didn't know what I was expecting when the picture became clear, but it wasn't that; Alice had a flawless, pale face framed by jet black spiky hair, dark eyes that were perfectly highlighted by a professional standard of makeup, while on her petite frame hung a bright summer dress, that on anyone else would look outlandish, but she made it look beautiful.
Her face radiated happiness as she stood next to a man with a shaggy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, both looking at the camera with toothy grins on their face.
I guessed the man was her fiancé, and as I hovered over his face I found the name Jasper Whitlock. This was what began my fifteen minute Facebook stalk of Alice Cullen.
I come from a nosy family, my mother was constantly asking questions and receiving gossip from the local 'book club' (not that they ever read any books), she was fascinated by other people's lives and thrived off reality TV shows. My father was a cop, which means that it was basically his job to find out about other people- and he would indulge in the local gossip every now and again. And although I've tried my best to hold back my 'inquisitive nature', I just can't help myself.
I searched through pictures, posts, birthday messages and in everything I saw, she always seemed incredibly happy. I rarely used social media; however, whenever I did post anything it wasn't exactly rainbows and unicorns. In fact, I began to think of what she would find if she looked at my profile, probably some pictures with Jake, nostalgic posts in which I've been tagged by people I haven't spoken to since elementary school, or ever did. It's probably not the best impression I could have given to her.
As I scrolled further into the year of 2011, a though occurred to me.
Edward.
I should look for Edward.
I mean, of course it's only logical that I should put a face to the man that I've heard so much about, right?
I convinced myself that this was a valid reason for my stalking as I clicked on her friends list.
With just one letter, I found him.
Edward Cullen.
Just underneath it was Emmet Cullen.
That must be the other brother, I thought. But he wasn't who I wanted to see.
Excitedly, I clicked onto his profile.
Edward Cullen, born in 1982, CEO at Cullen Industries, blah blah blah, let's get to the good stuff.
This time I groaned out load as the picture, painstakingly slowly, began to load. And when it finally did, I gasped.
The man in the picture was…beautiful.
I couldn't think of another word to describe him but beautiful.
His face looked as though it had been sculpted by the Greek Goddess, Aphrodite, with high cheekbones that could cut you like a knife and emerald eyes framed by thick lashes. His copper hair looked as though it had been ragged around a few times by his hands and screamed to be played with. He was looking at something behind the camera and smiling softly. Again. Beautiful.
My search was quickly interrupted by Angela's excited squeals as she pulled me up to show me that the cashier had actually managed to write his number onto a piece of paper instead of a coffee cup this time.
I moaned as Jake lifted my hips off the bed to get a better angle.
"Ungh baby I missed you so much", he growled into the crook of my neck.
I threw my head back, allowing my body to succumb to the pleasure as he kept thrusting.
"That's it Bells, come for me."
My fingernails drew lines down his back as he pressed his fingers to my most sensitive area.
I could feel my climax begin to coil inside as I gasped and whimpered, but, as usual, Jacob got there first.
He cursed loudly before pulling out completely and rolling onto his back, meanwhile, I could still feel myself pulsing as he cradled me from behind.
I resisted the urge to sigh at the thought of going to sleep unsettled again, the last few months had shown that this was becoming a common occurrence and I was beginning to wonder whether it was him or me. I made a mental note to google anything to help the situation as I resisted the urge to tuck my hands between my thighs.
I woke up gasping and moaning, I could feel pleasure seeping between my thighs as I glanced at the clock; 2:43 am.
I must have woken Jake up with the noises I was making as he shuffled to my side of the bed, murmuring something about "still not finished huh".
But it wasn't Jacob I could see, memories of copper hair and piercing green eyes entered my mind as Jake pulled me over to straddle his thighs.
That was the first night I dreamt about Edward Cullen.
The second time I was woken up was six minutes before my alarm went off, to the sound of a message alert from my phone.
I groaned as I sleepily reached out to my night stand to turn the damned thing on silent. But not before I saw the notification.
Edward Cullen has accepted your friend request
What. The. Fuck.
I would have liked to get this chapter up earlier but the past week has been so busy that the only chance I could get to write was at one in the morning.
Anyway leave me some comments, I really appreciated your previous reviews :). Thanks a lot.