What Now?
What now? We couldn't just sit there at Aro's indefinitely. For all I knew, Bella wouldn't wake up until morning. I had to do something.
Carrying her from the bar was out of the question. It would look like some fucking dreadful predatorial scenario, and the security personnel would be over me like a rash. I mean, they knew Bella and I hung together all the time, but shit, we were always compos mentis, albeit laughing like hyenas when we left. If I was carrying her they might think she'd had a fucking roofy or something.
"Come on, Bella, I'd better get you home. Let's walk to the elevator, it's not far," I coaxed, shaking her gently. "I've got you, you won't fall, you're with me, it's okay."
I got her upright, pulling her arm tight around my waist and wrapping mine firmly around her shoulders, holding her as she stumbled alongside me.
"What's with her?" Laurent, the doorman asked. "Bella?"
"I'm fine, jus' tired," she mumbled, although I wasn't sure if she was strictly awake. He nodded to me and I nodded back.
"Good girl, nearly there, a few steps more. Keep going. Christ."
As soon as we'd gotten shambling to the foyer, I picked her up. She could barely walk anyway. She hardly weighed anything - such a tiny frame to contain such a big personality. Waiting for the elevator, I whispered wanting, affectionate things to her, grateful that she couldn't hear them. I had to work all this out in my head before I said anything like that to her for real.
And of course, I had a dilemma - whether to leave her in her apartment on her own, or stay with her, or take her to my place. How much had she drunk? Not that much, I'd been monitoring. Three beers. She wasn't totaled by alcohol, she'd been totaled by my dick. How could I leave her to sleep on her own, knowing that? I needed to be with her when she woke up, so I could give her some more.
But maybe she'd need space? Would she be embarrassed again? Mortified? I just didn't fucking know, but I figured she'd probably want her privacy. Then again, after what had happened, perhaps she'd think I was loathsome if I deserted her overnight. I couldn't decide.
She and I had often tossed coins over who was the biggest sissy, her or me, or who had the dumbest shoes, me or her. She loved saying dramatically, "Ignore the toss of the coin at your peril". Only if the toss went her way, funnily enough. So I thought I'd let fate decide for me, and toss a coin once I got her settled.
At her door, I realized I was going to have to search her for a key, since she didn't carry a purse. Bella wasn't like other women, carting around facepaint and god-knows-what everywhere she went. I propped her against the wall and said loudly, "Bella, can you hear me? We're at your apartment. I can take you inside but I need your doorkey."
She surfaced, briefly. "Pocket," she slurred, reaching for me. "Edward. Mmm. Thank you."
"For what?"
"This."
"What do you mean?"
"Mmm-mm." Another of those smiles, the one she'd had in the bar. I'd never seen it before tonight - now I knew why. It was her post-orgasm smile.
Oh fuck, I'm not fucking going home, I'm not leaving her, I'm going to sleep at her place, and I'm going to get to see this smile again in the morning, after I've done something to deserve it. Yeah.
"Okay, Sweetness, which pocket?"
I'd never called anybody Sweetness in my life - I didn't even know how the word came to mind. But the novelty of my endearment meant nothing to its recipient. She probably didn't hear me. At her lack of response, I felt cautiously along the front of her jeans, aware that this was practically another assault. Luckily, I located the keys immediately in a hip pocket, without having to turn her around and go for her ass. One day we'll laugh about this, Bella.
After opening her door, I scooped her up again. Her apartment's layout is the same as mine, so I had no need of directions to get to her bedroom. She was way too far gone for teeth-brushing. Wondering whether to undress her I decided no, just in case she felt I'd taken liberties. How fucking complicated, all this stuff.
Lovely Bella lay there, peaceful and untroubled under the coverlet I'd tucked so carefully around her, while I sat on the edge of the bed troubled all to hell. Wanting nothing more than to get into the other side of the bed and snuggle up, I flipped a coin and didn't get the outcome I wanted. I flipped again and again, but every toss went against me. Oh shit, that was crap.
I'm not in the least superstitious - but I was getting a bad feeling, and starting to doubt my judgement. What if she regretted what she and I had done? What if she found me there in the morning and told me jump out of the fucking window? My self-doubt grew so fast it outstripped my determination to hold her in her sleep and be there when she woke, because after all, she'd talked about wanting sex, but she hadn't talked about me. She'd said she wanted a boyfriend, but she hadn't uttered a peep, ever, about me. Maybe I'd really be crowding her if I stayed. She'd asked my permission for what she'd done, twice in fact, but if I stayed here tonight, it would be without her agreement.
Regretfully, I let myself out, after leaving water on her nightstand along with some painkillers, just in case. I wanted to leave a fucking bumper sticker that said I heart your boobies, too, but I didn't have one handy. I heart you coming on me, crazy girl.
At home, I didn't know what to do with myself. I had an erection as hard as a fucking brick, but I didn't want to use thoughts of Bella to get rid of it. I wanted the actuality of Bella to get rid of it. Cold water is rude and a bastard, but it has its uses, and it made my priapic problem disappear. For about twenty minutes. I couldn't sleep, I wasn't hungry, and I just paced. Then I surfed the net until late, when I'd thoroughly tired myself out and couldn't think of another single thing to look up on youtube, and couldn't bear to have any more rubbish tv blaring out at me. Something very important was happening.
There'd been girls, yeah, quite a few, if I was to be honest. I'd never intentionally hurt any of them, but I'd never wanted to stick around any longer than a few weeks. Mostly it had been the case that the girls who went for me were the sort who didn't want to stick around me either. And that was just fine. I saw my parents every two or three weeks, I caught up with male friends once or twice a week, and I hung out with my neighbor and pal whenever the two of us were around at the same time. I'd thought it was convenience, as well as genuine mateship. But I saw Bella more than I saw any other friends, and more than anyone in my family. Sure, it was easy, because she lived a floor down from me. But really, it wasn't just because it was easy. Wake up, Edward. It was because I wanted to. I'd sought her out, over and over again, and I'd only just realized it.
So now we had to talk. Properly. Not our usual sort of talk where we both sprayed drinks out of our noses because we couldn't stop laughing, or went off on tangents so wild that we were the only two people in the room with the slightest chance of keeping up with each other. No, we needed to have a serious discussion and to stay on topic. But what if Bella didn't want Tangent Guy? Drinkspray Guy?
"So Bella, I've been thinking, and I've come up with a brilliant idea. You and me, how about it?"
"How about what?"
"You know. Us. Me and you. Dating. Holding hands and that sort of thing."
"You said brilliant. That's hardly brilliant. It's kind of distasteful. Do you have any other ideas?"
"Hey, I'm serious! Don't dismiss it without even considering it! We see each other all the time anyway, and we have lots of fun, don't we? Let's just add sex into the mix. Voila. You did say you wanted some sex."
"Hmm. Okay, considering it. Tick tock, tick tock. Results are in. The answer is nope."
"Why?"
"Because things between you and me are just fine the way they are. If you've already got a perfectly good house, why add an extension?"
Well, that imaginary exchange went well. Unfortunately, it was exactly what I could picture Bella saying.
Onto Plan B.
I didn't have a Plan B. Really, there wasn't even a Plan A.
Think now, Eddie. Come up with a Plan A, and a Plan B. And one or two contingencies, just in case. Let's face it, you'll probably need them.
.
.
.
