As we waited
As we waited downstairs for Bella to change into her usual jeans and sweatshirt, Seth was really gracious about me whacking him in the face twice, saying he fully understood. He agreed that Bella had been less than clear in her account of events leading up to the whacking. Then Bella reappeared and pronounced me a testosterone-fuelled thug, saying again, "Edward - seriously, come on. Would I actually hang out with a guy who assaulted me, or would I get the hell out of there and go to the nearest cop shop and file charges?"
Fair point. I apologized to Seth, albeit grudgingly, because well, shit. I have an aversion to handsome men being around Bella when they're unexplained overnighters.
I owed Bella a grudging apology as well, for misinterpreting what she'd said and reacting without getting the whole story. Quite frankly I thought Granite-Man should be saying sorry to me for having a face made of stone that he'd hurt my hand with, and Sweetness should have been saying sorry for being so confounding. Something huge and unspoken continued to hang in the air between her and me, but we couldn't discuss it in present company. We really fucking needed to talk about - how shall I put it? - about what we'd done. Touching, moving, sighing, wrapping around - her thighs and my hips, her mouth and my dick. The whole getting off, orgasm stuff. The totally unexpected we're-good-friends-fancy-us-just-suddenly-overstepping-that-line-and-going-pelvic business.
And I needed to know, though the answer would probably kill me, how she'd then managed to not only go away, but to stay away from me for so long after - after what had amounted to an enlightenment for me. Her absence had been distressing. Had it affected her? Well, no, apparently not, because she had Seth.
Yes, Seth. Fuck. Just to round off the whole debacle that had been the last twelve hours, the three of us walked to the diner on the next block where the wonderful Seth consumed more than I'd ever seen another human eat. While he was throwing food down his throat like he thought there'd be a shortage any minute, I ate a respectable amount at a respectable speed, burning to know what was going on with him and Bella. Time to delve.
"So, Seth." Addressing him directly.
"Mmm-mm?"
"What's your deal?"
"Mmm-mm."
His deal was that he could cram a whole breakfast burrito into one mouthful, with a side of fries and some field-mushrooms too. At least he didn't chew with his mouth open. Thank Christ for that.
"You're a wedding designer? Which is what?"
Coming to the rescue, Bella answered while he was still working the burrito.
"No, he's just doing it to help out. He's kind of - well, he's - oh, how do you describe yourself?" she said.
Seth swallowed and gulped down half a pint of orange juice.
"I have my own business doing commercial interior design, specialising in office refurbishments. I've been doing it for three years now. What I do is re-fits, where a company decides they want to update the look of their offices, or maybe they move into a building and want to strip out what the previous occupants had, and move partitions around, change the floor and wall coverings, whatever. I consult with the clients and put together new concepts for them, and if required, I project-manage the operation."
You're fucking kidding! Don't. I need someone like you really badly right now, because Bree and the other girl she started with were taken on to do this sort of shit and they're struggling with the volume of work, as well as their own inexperience. What a shame I disliked you on sight, because you and I combining forces would really benefit both of us. If you're any good.
"So you don't plan weddings for a living?" I pressed.
"Hell, no. Never done it before."
"Do you have a portfolio of your design work?"
"Sure. It's expansive. Here's my card, with my web address. Take a look."
Like I'd check his website out. I was just making conversation. I fucking hated him, because why would Bella have stayed with him in Port Angeles if he was just some guy her father was employing? It kept coming back to me that since she and I both had one bedroom apartments, it wasn't like Seth had slept in her spare room last night. And I knew her couch wasn't big enough for him. No-one's fucking couch would be big enough for Gigantor. Added to that he probably had a dick like a fucking Subway Footlong. It couldn't possibly fit in her mouth - it couldn't fit anywhere except a motorway underpass or an aeroplane hangar. That was of very little comfort to me in my rapidly worsening mood.
"Well, Edward. You're an architect and everything," Bella was saying. "Perhaps you'd be a useful contact for Seth. Perhaps you could help him with prospective clients... or maybe he could help you."
"Maybe," I answered, in a tone that said anything but, and deliberately looking away all the while so that I could signal to the waiter that we wanted our check.
It came, we paid, and we were out of there, walking back to the apartment block.
"Okay then, you two have lots to talk about," Bella remarked.
"We do, huh?" I asked her.
"The wedding - you agreed - oh God, have you forgotten already?"
The fucking wedding. Crap. Yes, I'd conveniently forgotten. "When is it?"
Seth named a date that was two weeks away.
"Two weeks?" I repeated.
"I know, right? Oh, I'm glad you're on board and I don't have to worry so much any more," Bella said, oblivious to my sudden panic. She took my arm, leaning in towards me, oblivious to my sudden imminent heart attack as I was torn between scowling and melting.
"What actually has to be done?"
"Just organizing the room, really," Seth replied. "I mean, it's bare, man. No floor coverings, no drapes, nothing. Zero vibe. So tables and chairs, and then some sort of decor... They've said we can paint, if we want to."
"That's about it, I think," Bella said happily. "Oh, Edward, thank you. Really."
She had to be kidding.
"Bella - I haven't been involved in anything like this before either. Of course, I know how to put a room together but I've no idea what Charlie would like, and I don't know what would be appropriate. Some input from you would help," I said. "Even just a general direction..."
"Well as far as what Charlie likes, Edward, the last time he got married I was just a sparkle in his eye, so I really don't know what he expects from a wedding. I'm sure you and Seth will come up with plenty of ideas which would be perfect. If there's anything I can do, just ask. But someone else has to be the boss of this, so that I can be there for Dad on the day if he needs me. I'm his only family."
Gazing up at me, her eyes were unsure and pleading. Okay, I got it. Her father's wedding was really, really big for her. Her earnestness made her look so soft and pretty. But Bella...
"Anything?" I repeated, quietly.
Something flickered on her face. An acknowledgement of the deeper implication of the word 'anything', with particular relevance to our situation. It wasn't about the wedding, or about Seth. Just the two of us. Ask you anything, Bella? I want to ask you something. I want to know what's happening in Bellaville. And I want to know soon.
Meanwhile, Seth was musing.
"Everyone loves weddings, right? It'll be a breeze. There's a baseline of goodwill, after all. All the guests are there hoping for the best. We'll just make sure the room doesn't feel sterile and unwelcoming and that there's enough food, with plates to eat it off, and there's music. Love will win the day."
I was glad he was on topic. Someone had to be. He seemed to feeling positive about the whole situation, while I felt like kicking a wall. But then, he got laid last night, didn't he? By my girl. Who he'd presumably been screwing for the last three weeks. It was going to drive me crazy having to be around him. I felt halfway crazy already.
"Bella, could I have a quick word with you? Privately?" I asked, because I really had to know.
Her expression immediately showed alarm. "Are you changing your mind, Edward? Do you want to pull out?"
Jesus, Bella. Be a little more careful with your choice of words, please? A vision leapt straight into my head of me doing just that - pulling out - with her beneath me flushed and panting, and me panting too, just about to - fuck, Edward. Stop it. Now you're three-quarters crazy, congratulations.
"No." If I was inside her I'd want to stay there. Fuck.
"What is it, then?"
"Seth, could you excuse us?"
Seth shrugged and Bella frowned.
"Edward, Seth's come all this way and he's only here for a couple more hours. Could you and I talk later? Or could you just say whatever it is in front of him?"
Sure. Okay. Here goes. Bella, come upstairs with me and let's take all our clothes off and make love until we're too tired to keep going, and then when we're pleasantly exhausted let's talk about how we're going to make it a regular thing, like daily, or even hourly, and we'll combine households and get a joint bank account and a puppy and we'll visit your Dad and stepmom for Christmases and my parents for New Years. You want me to say this in front of Seth? Oh, yeah, your precious Seth. Ditch him.
"No."
She huffed. She hung back. Oh, this was bad. Eventually she said, "Well, how about a health drink?"
Well, fuck. "Health drinks" were another of our things. We sometimes met in the bar on Sunday mornings, after having spent Saturday nights there, and we'd have a Bloody Mary each. Both of us fuzzy and tired, we'd gently snark at each other with half-open eyes, slouching on the bench seats. We'd never invited anyone else, but darling Seth was apparently so firmly accepted into her life that she'd include him in the exclusive Edward and Bella Health Drink Club.
Fine. Whatever you say. I'll do the ordering, and I'll get mine half and half with the vodka and tomato juice, thanks. And I'm not talking about you and me in Seth's presence anyway, Bella, so don't even bother thinking I will. Just lead me to the bar.
In we went and down we sat. We got the drinks, complete with celery sticks and lemon wedges and salt and pepper and tabasco, and I felt as healthy as a horse. Bella only stayed at the table for two seconds, and then wandered away to talk to Dimitri, leaving me with Hulk. Hulk turned a beer coaster over to its blank side and drew the proportions of the upcoming torture chamber, which he insisted on calling the wedding venue, and tried to start workshopping concepts with me.
And fuck it all to hell, his ideas were great. He was easy-going and funny, and if I ever introduced him to my circle of friends he'd fit in like a foundation member.
So Seth, just go and get fucked. By someone I don't know.
How many reasons do you need to detest someone?
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Am I getting rec'd somewhere? I have more readers than I would have expected, which is very nice. Thank you, everyone. Mwah.