The drive back to the restaurant was tormenting.
After I received Jacobs' surprising news– – which was, ironically, timed to perfection, I sent him an reply text informing him that I was having dinner with Alice (which was true) and wouldn't be home until later tonight. I wasn't too keen on the idea of seeing Jacob– – the supposed man that I loved– – right after my little make-out scene with Cullen.
Could I have been any more of an idiot?
After the…kiss we shared, or so I reduced it to, had ended… and I had finished replying to Jacob's message, neither I nor Cullen said one word to each other. I didn't know what to say. Half the drive was spent of me thinking up implausible excuses for my actions. I considered apologizing; using inebriation as an exempt of what I did– – despite the fact that I had not consumed even the slightest bit of liquor. There was also the plea of insanity, impulsive spur-of the moment, sleep walking, and utter confusion and denial as a pretext. What else could I say? 'Yeah, Edward, I've been thinking of kissing you for a while and suddenly decided to go for it. Oh, but don't expect anything, not that you would, of course, 'cause I already have a boyfriend– – sort of'. Yeah, that sounded just wonderful.
Aside from my own irritating self consciousness and the fact that I was dangerously near having a mental breakdown, Cullen's own silence was driving me crazy. More than ever, I was wishing that I could read minds. Or at least his.
What was he thinking about? Why did he refuse to speak? And most importantly; Why did he kiss me back? My head was spinning with all the things I wanted to ask him, but did not have the courage to voice. I nearly scoffed at my own cowardice.
Before we headed back to the restaurant, I stopped at a clothing store called "Le' Lumen". You didn't have to be a genius, or even a fashion model manager, to know that this place was expensive. But I needed some clothes and– – glancing down at my bare feet– – some shoes. I reached into the compartment of the car and retrieved a tiny, hand sized purse. I wasn't fond of using my emergency money for something like this, but I would have to. I just needed to remember to replace the money, afterwards.
I left the car without so much as a word to Edward. He was being ridiculously quiet, anyways. What need was there to tell him where I was going? Walking to the store put me in a bad mood, nonetheless. The outside clearly indicated that this was not my kind of place. The inside of the store was indeed flashy, populated by rows of designers clothing and mannequins that could shame the shoppers. Me included.
Kindly refusing the shop keeper, or I assumed she was, assistance, I marched to the dress section of the store in a hurry, and chose the first thing that struck my fancy. I decided on a long, black dress with spaghetti straps, and some black open-toe shoes with pumps shorter than two inches. Compared to my previous attire, this outfit suited me more. It was plain and dressy, with a touch of professionalism to it. Just the type of dress that Alice would disapprove of.
With the sudden remembrance of Alice came the realization that she was still at the restaurant, waiting for us. Of course, my other waiting person came into my mind as well, and I felt a tinge of guilt. How long has it been since Jacob was here, and here I was completely avoiding him? But I really didn't want to see him now. I couldn't see him. I wasn't the best liar in the world, and Jacob would definitely sense that something was wrong. He would probe into it further, being the kind of guy that he is, and I would end up shamefully admitting my wrong-doing.
And then what would I do?
There was a high possibility that Jacob would forgive me, if I used the same denying excuses that were initially intended for Edward's ears. But would he forgive me if I said that I kissed him… and liked it?
I shook my head, trying to shake away any reckless thoughts that dared to invade my mind. Of course I liked it! He was a great kisser– – I feebly admitted– – and I hadn't made out with someone in an extremely long time. My emotions were enhanced due to my long absence of intimacy with anyone. That was all there was too it.
Sighing, I paid for the dress– – with it still on me– – and left the store feeling slightly depressed. 'So much for being 'rational' and 'smart' I thought, bitterly, as I walked over to my car. The whole issue with Cullen was putting me in a bad mood, but I was also angry that I had just spent almost three-hundred dollars on a dress, and one-hundred and fifty on a pair of shoes that I would most likely never wear for the rest of my life.
Cullen still sat in the passengers seat, head turned to stare out the window in the opposite direction of me. He had been like that since I messaged Jacob; silent, depressing, annoying.
Feeling marginally irritated, I slipped into the car hastily and shut the drivers door sharply closed. A horrifying ripping noise sounded as I leaned over to pull the seat belt over me. This couldn't be happening!
I turned my head, slowly, and peered down at the long, fresh gash that ran from the material caught in the door, up to my calves. I was literally fuming. Why, why today of all days must my clumsiness decide to reach it's max? If this was it's max. I was close to saying "things couldn't get any worse", until I remembered that they could– – especially since it was me– – and bit my bottom lip hard. Atheism was starting to look like an congenial idea.
"Crap..." I muttered, hostile, as I opened the door to pull the remainder of my tarnished dress inside. I was, at least, thankful that I decided on the black dress. With the dark color, and the draping seams at the bottom, I figured that it would look seemingly unnoticeable. Or at least, I hoped it would.
The door shut close, and a scowl suddenly colored my expression. I turned my head slowly, and glared at the figure beside me who was shaking with laughter, and snapped, "Is there something funny?" So Cullen could stay quiet when it's awkward, but not when it's humiliatingly inconvenient for me?
That question broke Cullen's restraint, and he suddenly burst into a roar of laughter. My scowl deepened as he wrapped his arms around his sides. I wasn't sure if his rude laughing was better than the constrained silence. If anything, I chose neither one.
"Sorry…" Cullen gasped between laughs.
Even though his current humor was at my own expense, I couldn't help but to goggle at just how handsome he was. I shook my head, furiously, and with a final word– – "Don't" – – I put myself back in my place.
"Are you finished, now?" I snarled, when Edward's laughs finally ceased into small chuckles.
"Yeah," he breathed a sigh of relief, and pulled his arms over his head, "I think so."
"Glad to know." I muttered, bitterly, before hitting the engine and heading towards the restaurant that was no more than a few blocks away. Well, at least the tension in the car had subsided. In all honesty, I was starting to think that Cullen laughing at me was more preferable than a quiet, arcane Cullen.
"Happy to oblige." He muttered, humorously. I rolled my eyes at him, partially for the sudden change in attitude, and turned my attention fully on the road ahead of us. We were exactly one block away from the restaurant when we had to stop for the red-light. I almost groaned exasperatedly. Alice was definitely going to kill me. That, and it felt slightly uncomfortable– – being alone with Cullen.
I didn't want to bring up the topic of our kiss in any way. I was hoping, actually, that it would never be brought up again. It was a stupid mistake on my part, and I just wanted to forget about it. Hopefully, Cullen felt the same. I assumed he did, though, since he never mentioned anything to me since our…incident.
Despite my wishes, I couldn't help but feel curious. I did want to know what he thought. How he felt. Why he kissed me back. I already knew my reason for initiating; It was a moment-thing. It only happened because I was too caught up in the rush of having such a gorgeous person's face nearly inches away from my own. I would use that excuse until the day I died, and I was highly prepared for that. But I really wanted to know his reasons for kissing me back. Was it extemporary for him as well? Not that there would be any significant meaning behind it, obviously. But still, I wanted to know.
And then there was the recollection of Cullen telling me he had a girl friend. 'Tanya' was her name, if I remembered correctly. That little reminder caused a flare to go off in the pit of my stomach. I questioned inwardly what was wrong with it.
"Bella," Cullen said, calling my attention. I turned my head to him slightly, remaining aware of any change of the street light a few cars ahead. He looked troubled for words, "About the…you know…um…"
I gulped. Please tell me that he wasn't going to bring up the very topic that I had just been wishing to avoid. I was starting to think that everything that came from my mouth– – or mind– – was some perplexing jinx or other.
"Listen," his brows pulled together, "I think that I… or maybe…we… er…" He sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his hair.
For someone who didn't want anything to do with discussing what happened, I was getting pretty impatient.
Cullen closed his eyes tightly, and breathed out in aggravation, "Alright, what I'm trying to say is that I think I– – "
His sentence was cut annoyingly short when the abrupt beep of a horn sounded from behind us. We both jumped, just as we did when I received Jacob's message– – I cringed at the reminder of it– – and glanced back at the angry cars behind us, then back to the vacant space ahead of us.
I, wordlessly, pressed hard on the engine and pulled my attention away from whatever Cullen had just been about to tell me, and back to driving.
I was seriously starting to believe that I was a walking magnet for bad luck and horrible timing.
Edward.
I was such an idiot.
I kept my attention fully concentrated on staring outside my window– – not that I was really looking at anything. I didn't even turn around to face Bella when she– – wordlessly, I might add– – left the car. When the door was shut close, and a few seconds had passed, I turned around and watched as she walked towards some obviously-expensive clothing store.
That's right,
I remembered,
she needed some clothes… and shoes.
When Bella entered the store, I breathed what was probably the largest sigh I had ever made. An hours worth of tension was released with one exhaled breath, and yet, it was nowhere near enough.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Pushing my face in my hands, I groaned lamentingly. Things could not have gotten any worse. I kissed her, for crying out loud! I kissed my agent; and this time my actions were not– – and nowhere near– – caused by the want to tease her. It was honest; and that was what bothered me the most.
It inevitable to deny now; I was starting to like Bella.
I must have been the largest idiot in the world.
I groaned again, and my hand, involuntarily, moved to my face so I could pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers– – a habit that I inherited from my biological mother, Elizabeth. It was bad enough that I already had a girlfriend, not that I loved her very much. But that wasn't the point. I had a girlfriend, and this was Bella for chrissake! Bella; the vulgar, abusive, tomboyish woman who wouldn't hesitate to pull a punch on her own model. I was starting to believe that I was a masochist after all.
It wasn't that she wasn't pretty; if anything, I found her to be quite beautiful– – despite her lack of personal style. But she just wasn't my type! I liked fun, gorgeous girls who were capable of dressing incredibly sexy and who knew how to have fun. I didn't like women who were plain, homely, unfashionable, short tempered and bookworm-ish. And that was Bella.
"This cannot be happening," I muttered in my hands. My mind thought of possible reasons for my sudden attraction to her, but none of them were logical. It was impossible to fall for a person just because they held the ability to make you laugh, when barely anyone else could. That prospect itself was unfathomable. It just didn't make any sense. If that were the case, I could have easily fallen for my brothers' humorous friend, Leah. Though she wasn't as hysterical as Bella was, she did make me laugh on occasion.
Even while I thought this, I knew that they weren't the same. I was comfortable when I was with Bella. She was smart, and pretty… as well as dangerously clumsy. That was a definite bonus. The way she talked, her angry expressions, her sudden smiles– – I knew that was what I really liked about her, but I couldn't bring myself to fully admit it.
And then there was the bigger problem to think about: What was I going to do about my sudden realization? It wasn't as if I was single, and I didn't really feel like going to the trouble of breaking up with Tanya– – I shuddered at the thought. My girlfriend played the gentle, sensitive part, but I wasn't a moron. Tanya seemed exactly like the type of girl who would burn down someone's house while they were sleeping, to exact her revenge. I could break up with her, but did that suggest I liked Bella more? Did I like her even more than the person I had been dating for the past two years? It wasn't that I was in love with Tanya, but I did hold feelings for her. It was impossible not to, being together for so long. So, was I willing to end it with her, and give Bella a chance?
There was also Bella's feelings and current status to consider. I was handsome, smart, and rich– – regardless my brazen personality. There weren't many girls who would, or rather, could, refuse me. But I was aware that Bella wasn't like many of those girls. She wasn't a cougar, either. I faintly remembered her mentioning that she did not date younger men– – let alone co-workers. And there was also the question of whether or not she was in a relationship…
I nearly snorted aloud. I doubted that. She never dressed to impress– – in any way, shape or form– – and worked from early mornings to late night. If she wasn't in her office, filling out an abundance of papers and forms while making hasty phone calls, she was running around with her other models, booking gigs and setting up jobs. Even if she had a guy, which I still doubted– – and in turn, mocked my own personal taste– – it was evident that he would have broken up with her already. What guy would want a girl who never had time to meet him?
I pushed the possibility of there being a boyfriend aside, and contemplated on how she could possibly feel about me. This time, I really did snort aloud.
It was obvious, and I felt like a complete idiot for realizing it. I made fun of her, teased her, laughed at her expense, joked about her clumsiness, tricked her into eating cow intestines…if Bella felt anything for me at all, it would be spite or irritation. And if not, then it was she who were the masochist.
I was hoping on the latter of the two observations. There wasn't a chance in hell that she could like me… she never even called me by my first name!
"Wait," I muttered to myself, sitting up straight and staring wondrously at my hands. 'But she did call me by my first name!'
My mind though back on the kiss we shared, and I recalled her saying my name. Calling me 'Edward'. Did that mean that she was starting to feel attracted to me as well? Or at least comfortable? Even after all I put her through during dinner, she herself surpassed the previous standing of our relationship by calling me by my first name.
I smiled at the thought.
I thought about the kiss, and my grin grew even wider. Before I had only thought about it in a negative light, regretting it completely. But after realizing how I felt– – at least on some level– – I remembered that it felt amazing. Having her lips on mine, her holding me tighter in passion; it couldn't be possible that it was only a "spur-of-the-moment" kind of thing. Though, I was the one who initiated the kiss, she not only gave in, but demanded for more at some point.
I was almost beaming now. I felt almost ridiculous at how happy I was getting.
So she did like me, at least a little. That had to be the case. And her awkward silence after she received the message– – which I was still, peculiarly, curious about– – must have been from her embarrassment, and not because she was horrified, or even angry, about what happened.
I knew I was being overly optimistic, and that I shouldn't assume, but I was far too happy to be a pessimist. I almost laughed aloud at how excited I felt. Before now, I had never experienced any feelings of really wanting to date a woman. I never held a desire for someone to like me, since it was rather rare I fancied someone, myself. Did that mean that I liked her more than I currently thought? I was in complete awe of my present self.
Even my actions were becoming foreign since I met Bella. Wanting to apologize, and committing to it? Feeling guilt and regret? Those feelings were new to me. There was no one who I had ever felt bad for hurting, since I always acted on whatever I felt. Even sitting in the passengers seat, letting a woman drive me was new. I was brought up as a gentleman, and though I didn't act like it at times– – especially when Bella was concerned– – my manners and attitude towards women had always been deeply rooted by my upbringing. The fact that I was allowing someone else to drive me was odd enough…
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt a cool draft wash over me. Without turning my head much, I looked over to see Bella sliding back into the drivers seat. I felt the heat rise to my face, and I turned my head back to the window. She looked absolutely beautiful.
Bella never turned her head to look at me, but I watched her reflection from the glass. The dress she wore earlier was better, in my opinion, but the classic black dress that she chose was quite breathtaking. Oddly enough, the simplicity of it suited her.
I wanted to tell Bella what I thought of her choice of ensemble. I wanted to tell her that I thought she looked absolutely stunning, and I nearly did… before I heard a sudden ripping sound.
Looking at her expression from her reflection in the window, I watched as her eyes opened wide in horrified disbelief. I shut my mouth into a tight line, and forced myself to behave. To believe that this was, in no way, ironically hilarious. That I did not find any humor in the fact that she was the most clumsiest, unlucky girl in the universe– – but my restrain was cut short when I heard her say, "crap", in an expectant groan.
I, like the idiot I was, started to laugh. Even knowing that I was digging my own grave, and that Bella was glaring at me in irritation, I couldn't stop myself. The look on her face, as if things couldn't imaginably have gotten worse, was too classic. And then her tone when she asked if there was something funny– – it made me laugh even harder. This was definitely one of the reasons why I liked her.
"Are you finished?" She asked me, bitterly. I somehow managed to control myself to light chuckles, and tried to assure her that I was, but even my apology was deluded in humor.
"Yeah, I think so." I told her, with a heavy smile.
"Glad to know," she retorted, sourly.
I almost started laughing again at her annoyed tone, "Happy to oblige."
And with that final comment, everything went silent between us again. At least she said something to me. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. It would have been much worse if she refused to speak. But since she hadn't, I was going to return to my previous assumption that she didn't hate me. Or dislike what happened between us.
I felt a sudden impulse to talk to her. To ask her how she felt about the kiss. To question her intention by returning it. I wanted to tell her what I thought. How I felt. To let her know that I was starting to like her. To see what she felt about me. The fact that I was beginning to act like a love-struck teenaged idiot registered nothing in my head.
"About the… you know… um…"
I thought the words in my head easily. I was going to say them promptly: "What did you think about the kiss? Do you like me? Because I think I'm starting to like you, myself."
However, my words were a completely different matter from my thoughts.
"I think that I.. or… maybe…we….er…"
What the hell was the matter with me? Never before had I ever had a problem with saying anything. If I wanted something, I asked for it. If I didn't, or did, like something, I said it. So why were my words coming out in stupid stutters?
I ran my fingers through my hair, and nearly hissed in aggravation. This wasn't like me at all. I felt like I was having an anxiety attack. That, or a nervous breakdown.
I breathed in deeply, and forced myself to say what I was thinking, "Alright, what I'm trying to say is that I think I– – " Like you.
But my words were interrupted by a loud, alarming honk coming from behind us. Bella and I glanced back, and then she returned her attention back to the road ahead of us. I gritted my teeth together and palled my hands into fists to prevent me from breaking the glass window.
'That's what you get for acting like a nitwit, you stupid dolt,'
I insulted myself, bitterly.
Sighing a final time, I relaxed from my stiff, rigid form and slumped back into my seat, turning my head to face the window. I let the thought of having all night comfort my seething irritation.
I will definitely talk to her tonight.
