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Word Prompt: Bell
Not beta'd.
His intensity is palpable. I wipe my cheeks as an excuse to look away, taking a moment to gather my wits.
"I never meant to upset you." Even if he knows this, it bears repeating. "You have no idea how bad I feel. None of this would have happened if I'd minded my own business like you asked."
"That was a dick thing for me to say, Bella. I have a hare-trigger temper sometimes, and it was unfair to take my anger out on you. I'm ashamed of the way I behaved."
He's drowning in guilt, and I want to relieve him of it.
"I forgive you," I whisper.
"Thank you." His reply is quiet, too, maybe too quiet. I can't tell what he's thinking from the tone of his voice or the look on his face.
Whatever force had charged the air between us fizzles when his gaze falls from mine. It feels as though he's withdrawing, and I know I have to let him.
"You probably want to head home and get your day started."
He runs his hand across his neck and shoulders, rubbing them gently as though they're stiff. "I thought I'd go home and grab an hour or two of sleep. I haven't been to bed yet."
"I don't know how you do it." I gather our dishes, and bring them to the kitchen, an easy distraction that hides my heavy heart. "I don't function very well when I'm exhausted."
"I sleep when I can. Your body just sort of reprograms itself."
My eyes follow him as he lumbers towards the door. He seems infinitely more tired than when he arrived, despite the caffeine and sugar.
"Are you going to be okay to drive?"
"I don't have far to go. I'll turn up the stereo and roll the windows down." His easy grin tells me he's done this plenty of times before.
I shuffle over to him, forcing my body to move against its will as I try to accept that it's time to say goodbye.
"Thank you for coming. I'm glad we had a chance to clear the air."
"Me, too."
"I hope you're able to get some rest. Don't worry about me; I'll find my own way to school today, and I'll contact the rideshare program about a new partner."
He frowns. "You don't want to drive with me anymore?"
"I'm one more hassle in your already busy life. You don't need that."
"I signed up for this, Bella."
"You signed up to be paid to give someone a ride."
"And that's what I'm trying to do," he says with a frustrated huff.
I'm not trying to perturb him, but that's exactly what I've done, which only illustrates my point. No matter what I do, I seem to exasperate him in some manner.
"Even if all I do is aggravate you?"
"I've had a few bad days." He scrubs a hand over his face.
"And I have a knack for bringing out the worst in you."
"How do you know I'm not this way with everyone?"
His question stops me in my tracks. The idea had never occurred to me. I don't know how he interacts with the outside world because we only exist in our ride-to-school bubble.
"I don't, I guess."
"I may not always act like it, but my favourite part of the day is the time I spend with you."
"Really?" I'm so surprised that my voice squeaks.
"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks with a laugh.
Frankly, it is, and he notices the skepticism in my expression.
"I've had a boatload of shit on my mind lately. There have been a lot of… changes in my life in the last six months. That's no excuse, but I'd really appreciate it if you could put a little bit of faith in me and give me a chance to prove that I'm not always an asshole."
"I don't think you're an asshole, far from it. This isn't about my faith, either, because you've always had that. You and I… we seem to be expending a lot of energy avoiding stuff… "
"What stuff?"
Avoiding a conversation about avoiding is hypocritical, but telling him the truth scares the shit out of me. I don't want him to shut down.
"You avoid giving direct answers to a lot of my questions, and I avoid asking a lot of things because I don't want to make you angry."
"That's just normal getting-to-know each other junk. Besides, I'm trying to create a little mystery."
"Oh, yes, the mystery." I roll my eyes. "The tiny shifts in topic, the vagueness, the total redirections, and that smile—you're very good at using your charm to avoid things you don't want to talk about."
His bottom lip juts out, producing the most adorable pout.
"That right there," I say, pointing at his mouth, "is just another part of your charm, and you're trying to manipulate me with it so I'll forget that I asked why you don't answer my questions directly."
"Actually, you didn't ask a question. You made a statement that you wanted me to agree with, and I don't. It's called a difference of opinion, not avoidance."
He looks look like the cat that swallowed the canary.
"You asked your sister to pick me up without ever mentioning to me that she existed. You offered cryptic answers about why you couldn't come over for dinner while claiming that you'd like nothing better. You swear you always want to know what I'm thinking but change the subject or get angry with me when I tell you what's in my head. You avoid sharing most personal details." I bite my lip and look down. "It's confusing. You flirt up a storm, but you won't let me in, as if keeping me out will let you avoid acknowledging the potentiality between us."
"So you're saying you don't want to drive with me." He gives me his dimpled smile. If I had any doubt that dazzling me is another avoidance tactic for him, he's just erased it permanently.
"Do you still want to drive with me?" I ask.
He folds his arms across his chest and leans into the doorframe. "I do. You know I do, and now, I know you know I do."
I chuckle, shaking my head at his cockiness. He's all about control; every action is calculated and purposeful, but the resulting self-confidence is over-the-top sexy.
"I'll pick you up at 9:30," he says. It's not even a question in his mind. He's either hedging his bets, or the way I feel about him is completely obvious.
"I'll be there with bells on," I say, unsure whether or not I'm being sarcastic.
He hooks his pinkie finger around mine, pulling our linked hands into the space between us. I stare and wonder if it's his way of acknowledging what's going on between us in the same way he used a song as an apology. If that's what he's doing, I wish it were clearer. It's more likely wishful thinking on my part. I'm in unfamiliar territory with him—bone-deep attraction mixed with hormones and my heart—and I don't want to see what isn't there. I want concrete. I want confirmation. Instead, I feel like I'm sailing too close to the wind.
"Thank you," he whispers.
He softly squeezes my finger, then lets it go.
I nod and look up into his too-intense gaze, seeing green ghosts pass behind his eyes. With a wink, he's gone, disappearing into the elevator before I close my apartment door.
He doesn't have to create mystery. He's mysterious enough just being Edward Masen.
A/N: My apology for not posting on Saturday. This chapter was a little longer to make up for it :)
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