For rms33, who was kind enough to bid $170 for my skillz during the Support Stacie Auction. Thank you so, so much. I'm happy we could do something for such a wonderful cause.
Thanks, as usual, to my girls EchoesOfTwilight and AmeryMarie for pre-reading and cattle-prodding.
I don't own Twilight, but I do own the Girls and The Precious.
Chapter 21, EPOV: The Tale of The Napkin 2.0
What the fuck had happened to my ability to make a smart decision regarding my personal life? For the second time today, I cursed myself and my stupidity. First, I'd royally pissed off Bella by throwing away her napkin, which – now that I'd stopped to think of it from her point of view – was up near the top of the list of "Most Clueless Guy Moments in History."
I should have known women kept things like that; Alice had more than one memory book full of reminders of her relationship with Jasper. I just wasn't wired that way. I kept Bella with me in my mind at all times. It was hard not to think about her. I kept my mementos filed away in memories and a playlist on my iPod. Sure, they weren't tangible, but they were no less meaningful than the napkin had been to her. I could pull them out at will and be calmed by just the thought of her: her contagious laughter and biting sarcasm, the glitter in her deep brown eyes when she poked fun at me or my habits. Just a few moments with Bella could erase the stress of a full rotation at work, or the uneasy, heavy weight that tried to overwhelm me when I'd had days full of giving patients bad news.
Fuck, I loved her. I had ever since that morning at the bakery, when I'd told her the truth of my past. But had I told her? Of course not, because I was too much of a pessimistic chickenshit to lay it out there… at least, not while she was coherent. Telling her when she was passed out in a Tylenol PM haze did not count.
Part of me still believed she was too good for me, and the last thing I wanted was to drag her down into the cesspool I walked the tightrope over every single day. The mean little whispers that I'd spent years of therapy trying to silence occasionally fought their way through, telling me that I was reaching far too high.
That was fine; it was to be expected, and I had the tools to deal with it.
It wasn't the only reason I hadn't told her. I didn't want to scare her off. I'd almost said it a few times when my guard was down, which was usually during moments that didn't lend themselves to a believable first-time declaration of love. I didn't want to be that guy, the one who indiscriminately says "I love you" after or during sex.
But apparently, I was the type of guy who fell in love with a woman after knowing her for just under a couple weeks. After one amazing night, a disastrous morning that included a bong, a gun, and a fucking fire, no less.
When I thought about it that way, I was certifiable.
I might have been crazy, but I was happier than I could ever remember being, even before my mother had died. Familiar guilt tried to sneak in at that thought, but I knew it was illogical. Elizabeth would have loved Bella, and I knew that somewhere, she was ecstatic that I'd found the one person on earth who fit me perfectly.
Of course, I'd managed to fuck it up. I just hoped I could fix it…which led me to my current predicament.
The second dumbass mistake I'd made today was asking Emmett for his opinion on the situation. That was how I ended up walking the nearly deserted aisles of the grocery store as I pushed the cart and Emmett threw in random shit. I surveyed the contents of the cart, baffled at what Emmett believed were "the necessities."
There were fucking bubbles in the cart. And a mini Super-Soaker. Currently, we were standing in the cereal aisle as Emmett debated between plain Cap'n Crunch and the version with Crunchberries like it was a damn life or death decision. Like it mattered anyway. Plain Cap'n Crunch always won for me, even though it turned the roof of my mouth into a minefield of cuts and scrapes. I grabbed the box out of his hands and threw it in the cart.
"Emmett, when did this outing turn into me buying your groceries? We came here to shop for me," I groused.
"We are shopping for you," he said, ripping into a box of cherry Pop-Tarts and devouring half a pastry in one bite.
"What the hell are you doing, Emmett? You can't just start eating shit right in the middle of the store!"
"Why not?" he mumbled, crumbs falling from his mouth as he spoke. I shook my head and sighed. "I'm hungry. It's gonna be ours in a few minutes anyway."
"I don't even eat most of this stuff. And I certainly don't need bubbles and a Super-Soaker," I muttered.
"But I eat it," he said matter-of-factly. "And you never know when bubbles and a water gun are going to come in handy." He waggled his eyebrows. I tried not to gag – I knew there was some kind of sexual reference there, but I refused to think too hard on it when my brother and Rose were involved.
"Last I checked, you're not my roommate, Emmett," I said flatly.
"Well, I need some munchies for when I come over to your place," he reasoned.
"Are you even allowed to eat Pop-Tarts? Aren't you supposed to be following a diet plan while you're wrestling?" He scowled at me before popping the other half into his mouth.
"No, I'm not 'supposed' to eat that stuff." I nearly snorted when he used air quotes and rolled his eyes. "Rose would kick my ass if she knew." He shivered as he said it. He was right to be worried. Rose would have him by the balls if she knew what he was doing, but I wasn't about to rat my brother out…unless he did something to really piss me off. Then he was fair game. "That's why it's all gonna stay at your place." He said it like the statement was obviously reasonable.
I sighed and pushed the cart to the next aisle. Such was life with Emmett Cullen. I'd learned long ago not to try and logically decipher his method of reasoning. Emmett's brain was like String Theory: so fucking simple and straightforward it was impossibly complicated.
I grabbed some of Bella's favorite spaghetti sauce. Wow, Cullen. That's pretty optimistic. Or maybe if she doesn't forgive you, you can be all mopey and moon over a jar of fucking pasta sauce for months.
Emmett was halfway up the aisle, staring at the pre-made pizza crusts he held in his hands.
"Step away from the simple carbohydrates," I warned. "Think meat."
He tossed them into the cart anyway.
"Speaking of meat, what the hell did you do to Bella to piss her off? You better not have screwed with my meat connection or I'm going to introduce you to my little friend called the Boston Crab, right fucking here, man."
At the mere mention of submission holds, my mind went straight to the gutter – the night when Bella had (quite literally) blown me away in the roof garden. God, the things I'd done to her after I'd gotten her into my bed… That's all it took before I noticed I was developing a situation in my loose scrubs. Not a good thing when you're buying groceries with your professional wrestler brother. People would start to get ideas.
I forcibly filled my head with repulsive images: Will Ferrell hosting Janet Reno's Dance Party…Jim Carrey dressed as Vera DeMilo and that God-awful horse laugh…
Situation averted rather nicely.
"I threw away her napkin," I mumbled, poking at the array of pizza sauces on the shelf.
"You threw away her napkin," he repeated, looking puzzled. "Shouldn't she be glad you're helping clean the place up?"
I once again lamented my choice of confidante for this issue.
"No, it was…some kind of keepsake. It was the napkin I left her at the bar the first night we met."
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Dude, you're so fucked. What the hell did you do that for?"
"I didn't know what it was!" I whispered harshly, looking around to make sure no one else was in the aisle to witness my humiliation. Emmett laughed loudly, pointing at me.
"So fucked," he said again, pressing one hand to his stomach and gasping for air.
"I know," I said vehemently, getting extremely frustrated with the direction this conversation was taking. "I need to fix this." I took a deep breath and scrubbed my hands over my face to try and clear my mind. "Emmett, I love her."
"No fucking shit, man. 'Bout time you realized it," he laughed. "The rest of us have known since you brought her home for Gyros."
I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to roll my eyes and stomp off like a teenage girl. "I've known for a while," I admitted, still not looking at him. I heard plastic crackle as something else likely full of bad carbohydrates and processed sugars landed in the cart.
"Just man up and admit it, E. I guarantee that will mend any fucked up fences between your properties, if you know what I mean." He rubbed his hands together and grinned suggestively before smacking me on the shoulder. "Of course, she'll still bring up that napkin shit whenever you have a fight, because women love to throw all your past wrongs back in your face. Rose still won't let me live down that time I got piss-ass drunk and peed in her underwear drawer…" he trailed off, a scowl on his face.
I tried to fight back the bitter thoughts that came with Emmett mentioning blackout drunkenness so casually. He's lucky that was the worst thing he's done while drunk…
I shook my head and sighed deeply, trying my hardest to acknowledge the thought, and then let it float away. I knew he didn't mean anything by his statement.
Although I wondered…Bella wouldn't bring up my past and the accident, would she?
No…she'd never do that. She was the one who'd done what thousands of dollars of therapy hadn't: she'd helped me to realize that although I had made mistakes, as a man I was worth more than the sum of my misdeeds. Most of me was beginning to realize that someone as lovely and smart as Bella wouldn't waste her time with an asshole…so there must have been something redeemable about me.
Right?
Fuck, I hoped so.
"Edward!" Emmett whispered, without really whispering at all. "We gotta move. This area's about to become a biohazard." His features scrunched up and I knew exactly what that face meant.
It meant Emmett's inner twelve year-old was coming out and gas was building up in his intestines.
"You are so Goddamn rude," I muttered as we made our way towards the end-cap, passing an evening stocker who was busily facing the cans on the shelves.
He snickered as we made our way down the next aisle, pausing to give me a smug look as he tossed in a can of baked beans.
"You sure about those, Emmett? I don't think you need any more fuel for your pilot light." I smirked at him, causing him to snort and pat his belly.
"Silent but deadly…I totally crop-dusted that dude," he chortled. "Wonder how many more I could get away with?"
I let him lead me throughout the store as I thought of ways to make up my transgressions. Who knows how many poor, unsuspecting grocery store employees were subjected to the wrath of Emmett's intestines as we finished "my" shopping. For my part, I tried not to breathe too much and always stayed upwind of the "draft."
As we loaded the booty into the car, he looked at me seriously, for once.
"E, just tell her. That girl is perfect for you, and you know it. She seems strong, too. I don't think she's the type to run away." His tone was serious and urgent, letting me know that I could take what he said at face value and not look for one of his perpetual jokes somewhere in that statement.
"I don't know, Emmett," I stalled.
"Pussy."
I flipped him off, muttering "Lay off, Emmett." He shook his head at me, packing the grocery sacks away in my trunk according to his special "system." I didn't even ask. He'd only respond with some shit about the proper arrangement of heavy items around the loose bags, so nothing rolled around in the back. God forbid the milk slid out of place and smashed his pop-tarts and powdered sugar doughnuts.
I repeatedly raked my hands through my hair, giving away my anxiety with every fidgety move I made.
"Shit!" I burst out, startling a young woman walking past us. "Sorry," I mumbled sheepishly as she gave us a dirty look. I was so frustrated from this entire day. My internal filter had turned the sign over, the one that read: 'Sorry, we're closed – come back soon!'
"Edward, just go with your gut. That's all you can do. It's what I did with Rose, and look at where it got me." God, he sounded so fucking reasonable. I wanted to kick him in the shin like I used to when I was a scrawny teenager. I raised an eyebrow at him, pointing to all the contraband currently sitting in my trunk. Emmett held up his hands and backed away from the car. "Hey, E, I'm just trying to help out. No need to threaten me." I'd admit it, Rose scared me sometimes. But if anyone could handle Rose, it was Emmett.
Bella's certainly proved that she can handle me. In more ways than one…
Jesus Christ, I couldn't even think about her for five minutes without my brain going gutter-diving. I slammed the trunk shut with more force than necessary. The bottom line was this: I wanted Bella in my life more than anything, and to keep her there, I'd try everything.
Including laying my feelings out there for her to embrace…or reject.
I had a feeling that we'd both been walking the same fine line, dancing around what we truly felt for one another. So far, neither of us had gathered the courage to admit it. I'd never had a problem with reaching for what I wanted professionally, but Bella had taught me that I had the right to reach for what I needed personally, no matter what had occurred in my past.
What I needed was her. Forever.
***
Of course, Emmett didn't stick around to help me put away the junk food he'd forced me to buy. The chore sucked even more than usual because I kept remembering doing this exact same activity with Bella this afternoon.
What the fuck was I going to do? I needed to make it up to her somehow. I hated the idea of some grand fucking gesture, but it looked like that was what was called for in this situation. I wanted to walk right into that damn restaurant and stalk her at the bar; make her come and talk to me because I was technically a customer and she couldn't ignore me or kick me out.
I pictured it in my mind…
She looked at me with those sad eyes as she completed orders for the waiting server. Sighing visibly, she wiped down the bar area in front of her before slapping down the damp towel and coming to stand in front of me. She grabbed a cocktail napkin and set it in front of me; I flinched as I saw it.
"What can I get for you, Edward?" she asked, her eyes fixed not on mine, but on the shiny walnut surface of the bar.
"Talk to me, Bella, please." I said softly, grasping the hand that was fisted in front of her stomach. Her eyes met mine abruptly, and I could see the hurt shimmering in their depths for just a moment before they hardened. Her lips flattened into a hard line and she tried to disengage her hand from mine. I tightened my grip, holding her there in front of me.
"Words just came out of my mouth. That IS the definition of speaking," she snapped, her eyes flaring with a spark of anger.
I knew she was mad at me, but…God help me if that look didn't go directly south. I wanted to throw her on top of the bar and show her exactly why her napkin didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. My brain, however, was still strong enough to overrule my dick.
"You'd be correct," I said with a slight smile, one that I knew she loved. "But Bella, talk to me. How can I make this better?"
"I don't know, Edward." She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. "I just need some space." She bit her lip and said nothing more. The sight of her lip caught between her teeth was like fucking Kryptonite to my brain. I stood up abruptly, leaning over the bar and pulling her to me with the hand I still gripped like it was my lifeline. She resisted at first, but I was relentless in my determination to show her just how much she meant to me.
"I don't want 'space,'" I growled, my nose nearly touching hers. "I want you. I need you. And you don't need a napkin to be sure of that." I crushed my lips to hers, moving my hand from hers to cup the back of her neck as I planted my free hand on the bar for balance. Her lips were still for a moment before she responded fiercely, her mouth meshing with mine perfectly, as always.
I nipped her lips roughly before filling her mouth with my tongue, not caring who witnessed our little display. Her hands fisted in the front of my scrub top, holding me as close to her as she could with the large expanse of the bar between us. I was just beginning to think of ways I could drag her off to really show her how I felt when she stiffened and yanked her lips from mine.
"I can't, Edward. Please…" she pleaded, covering her face with her tiny hands and turning away. She disappeared into the stockroom behind the bar and didn't return. I was still leaning over the bar, my hand clenched on the smooth surface. I looked down and noticed the unused cocktail napkin crushed between my fingers.
Jesus Christ. I couldn't even get things right in my own fantasies! Fuck!
I threw myself onto the couch and heaved a sigh, turning on the television to try and drown out my morose thoughts. It didn't work. Even watching TV reminded me of Bella.
Damn it, everything reminded me of Bella.
She was my life; rather, she was what made my life happy. And I'd be damned if I'd let her go. I thought back to my little fantasy again, the last image standing out in my mind – the unused napkin clenched in my fingers.
I smiled slowly as an idea began to form. I knew what I was going to do.
I just hope it works. Otherwise, I might have to try my first idea and drag her off to a dark corner of the restaurant like a caveman.
***
I clenched my fingers on the steering wheel before I turned the key, shutting off the engine. It was almost closing time, so I knew I had just enough time to get in there and fix the shit pile I'd created this afternoon. I just hoped this wouldn't be the hat trick of stupid Edward decisions today.
I was tired, still wearing the scrubs I'd had on for the last thirty-six hours, and likely looked like I'd been awake for the last week. I didn't care. There was only one person in that building whose opinion mattered. I patted the front pocket of the scrub top to make sure my pen was still there. Satisfied that I was prepared, I exited the car and went inside.
No one was at the bar as I approached. I took a seat, trying to listen for voices, but the lively music playing throughout the restaurant prevented me from hearing anything. I sighed and planted my elbows on the bar, resting my chin in my hands. I knew it was rude and Esme would have given me grief about it, but I was dead tired, dejected, and sad. I felt incomplete knowing Bella was displeased with me, and making sure she forgave me seemed like the most pivotal objective in my life.
I looked up as I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. My shoulders slumped when I realized it wasn't Bella, but her friend Angela who came up to me. She placed a napkin in front of me, eerily reminiscent of my imaginings, while she smiled sympathetically at me.
"Can I get you a Coke? You look like you could use a little caffeine," she offered. I laughed weakly and nodded.
"I could. It's been a rough day," I feebly joked. A brief craving for something a little stronger than caffeine hit me for a moment. I discounted the thought almost as soon as it formed. It wasn't worth it. I had Bella – hopefully – and she was all I needed.
"You look worse than Bella does." She didn't look at me as she filled the glass and set it on the napkin in front of me.
"How is she?" I tried to keep the pathetic pleading tone from my voice, but I didn't think I succeeded.
"Pissed off," Angela responded, her lips curving in a sly smile. I sighed and dropped my forehead into my hands, but what she said next gave me hope. "But I think she's angrier at herself than she is at you."
"Do you think she'd come and talk to me?"
"I'm not sure, Edward. I think she's pretty embarrassed and sad," she said sympathetically, as I gulped down half the Coke. "Just give her a tiny bit of time. I know she'll come around." She patted my hand and went to prepare some drinks for a server that had come up to the pass.
As I finished the soda, I thought about the first night we met, and how important that memento had been to her. I wanted to give some of that back to her; even if I couldn't reproduce the original, I could still imitate some of the circumstances. I grabbed the napkin and pulled out my pen. As I was writing, I caught Angela's eye and she winked at me, giving me a brilliant smile.
I wanted to pour out all my thoughts on that one tiny napkin, but that would have been even worse than blurting out "I love you" during sex. So I kept it simple, yet I was confident that Bella would have no doubt what I meant. After I finished, I stood up, reaching for my wallet. Angela came over and scowled at me, shaking her head.
"On the house," she said firmly. "It's just a Coke. You'd be appalled if you knew the markup percentage."
"Okay," I said, holding up my hands as I backed away. I looked toward the supply room one last time, knowing she was in there…so close, yet so far away. I had to have faith.
The ball was in her court now, just as it had been that first night.
***
The next hour stretched on for what seemed like days. After leaving the steakhouse, I let myself into my dark, empty loft and flipped on the lights. Tanya greeted me with a happy meow, and I tried to distract myself by petting her.
It didn't work.
I felt a tiny bit better when Renesmee trundled her way over to me and began to climb up my leg.
"How are you doing, Ness?" I half-sang to her as I detached her little claws from my pants. Ness was such a better name than the full version that Bella had chosen, but I still hadn't informed her that I'd made my choice of nicknames. I needed a convincing argument. Until then, I'd continue to call her Ness in private and Renesmee when Bella was present.
I rubbed my jaw across the top of her head, her soft fur calming me just a little bit. She still reminded me of Bella, though: the way she held the kitten up to her neck and kissed her silky fur, the adorable sight of them frozen in slumber, Ness's little body draped over Bella's neck.
I listened to the loud rumble of the little cat's purring as I flipped more lights on, Tanya following close behind me as she howled for food. I wondered how many other lofts in this building had been sucked in by her little racket. I was beginning to think she had kittens deposited in every unit and was being fed at every single one of them.
Ness was still small enough to fit in the front pocket of my scrubs, so that's where I stashed her while I got a plate of Meow Mix for Tanya. Like the narcoleptic kitten she was, she passed out quickly. I set the plate of food next to the cat blanket, carefully depositing Ness in the center of the soft cotton. I made sure that the plate wasn't too close to the kitten, lest Tanya mistake her for food and eat her before I left quickly; not wanting to witness the decimation of innocent cat food.
I wandered to my bedroom, trying not to wonder if Bella would come to visit me tonight. Deciding a nice, hot shower would take up some time, I stripped off my scrubs and shoved them into the nearly overflowing hamper in the bathroom. I waited until the steam filled the shower before stepping in. The wonderful sensation of hot water streaming down my body sent gooseflesh erupting over my back and arms, and I sighed in relief as I leaned back to wet my hair.
I made quick work of my shower, turning the water to cold when I began to remember what I'd done to Bella against those very tiles. I needed release, but rubbing one out in the shower didn't quite seem satisfying at the moment. I wanted Bella; not just to fuck her, but to make love to her. I sent up a quick prayer that she'd come to me tonight. Not just because I needed her physically, but because I needed her. Period.
When I finished, I dressed in the squirrel-printed boxers she'd given me, unable to contain my laughter as I slipped them on, covering them with a pair of soft track pants. God, I loved her sense of humor.
Fuck, who was I kidding? I loved everything about that woman. She kept me in line, made me feel worthy of her affections, and could make me laugh more easily than Emmett could. Speaking of Emmett, as he would say, it was time to shit or get off the pot. I was going to tell her how I felt about her tonight; no more worrying about the possible repercussions. I trusted her…with everything.
I'd had enough of my subconscious telling me I wasn't good enough for her. I knew she wanted me and that was all that mattered. Lord knows I wanted her, forever. I wanted the whole thing with her: the house in the suburbs, the Labrador retriever and the two point five kids. I wanted her in my bed every single night, submitting to me in that beautiful way she always did. I wanted to submit to her; have her take control of my body just as she had taken control of my heart. She was an addiction I had no desire to cure, because what we had together was so perfect and pure, so nurturing, and just fucking complete.
I sat on the couch, doing nothing but staring out at the Seattle skyline that spread for miles outside my windows. It was beautiful, but it meant nothing if Bella wasn't there to share it with me.
The clock on the DVR read 12:01 a.m. Great. It was now my birthday and I was more miserable than ever, just from knowing how I'd royally fucked up my relationship with the greatest, most down to earth woman I'd ever met. I knew Bella would be making it home just about now; so I swallowed my pitiful indecision and decided to send her a text. Hoping to remind her of the beginning of our relationship, I sent her the picture of my hair and eyes I'd saved, just to make her laugh.
"I always feel like somebody's watching me…" I laughed as I thought of that stupid Geico commercial, with the stack of money topped with googly eyes that never failed to make us laugh and sing along. I pressed send and set the phone down next to me, trying not to stare at it until she sent a response. Unable to resist, I grabbed the phone again and sent another quick message. To my surprise, I thought I heard the faint chime of Bella's text ring just outside my door.
Have I finally gone fucking nuts? Could she really be just on the other side of that flimsy piece of wood?
Running to the door, I threw it open with more force than necessary, the knob denting the drywall as it bounced off the soft gypsum board.
Fucking angels sang and a halo shone from above the crown of her head as she looked at me in unsure surprise.
"I'd know that text chime anywhere," I murmured, clenching my fists to keep from yanking her into my arms and pulling her into the loft. I wanted to find the first flat surface in the living space and fuck the shit out of her all over it. In fact, the floor right in the foyer would work, but first I had to drag her inside. I'd satisfy her so well that she'd have no doubt how much I worshipped her.
Of course, I remained exactly where I was, because I was a damned idiot. She stared, her eyes seeming to devour the sight of me, yet she still made no move to come closer. I rocked back on my heels and raked a hand through my hair, smiling nervously. I knew the second she spotted the boxers. She gave herself away with the soft giggle that escaped her lips. When she finished admiring the rodents that graced my underwear, her eyes met mine timidly as she wrung her hands in front of her.
"Happy birthday," she said quietly, her eyes dipping toward the floor for a second, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.
Holy shit, I'm mean, aren't I?
Don't worry, there is one more installment. It's already written. Hopefully these two peeks into the brain of Edward will tide you over until I can finish the next chapter of WiP.
Thanks again to rms33 for letting me share this with you all.