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She closes her eyes and shakes her head, forcing out a burst of air.
It's worse than a direct kick in the nuts, and unfortunately growing up with Emmett has afforded me that choice bit of data for comparison.
She covers her eyes with her hands and sinks back into the couch. I try not to focus on the lack of lumbar support it offers.
Jesus, really?
I hang all my hopes on her tiny voice. "I promised myself I wouldn't go there again," she mumbles, more to herself than to me.
"But…?" Is there a 'but'?
"I'm already there."
-o-
My jumbled brain frantically attempts to decode her cryptic message.
I'm already there.
Struggling to contain my optimism, I ask, "Does that mean you're giving me a chance?"
I don't breathe until her head makes an almost imperceptible shift in my direction. She's nodding up and down behind those hands, ever so minutely.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and gather up her wrists, coaxing her fingers gently away from her beautiful, clear brown eyes.
For the first time, I see Bella as vulnerable.
I am a dust mote on a scale of a wing of a termite.
-o-
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss softly. When she doesn't flinch, I move up her arm, expressing my gratitude in tiny droplets along the tender skin of her forearm, inside her elbow, her sexy bicep and shoulder. I pause for permission before sliding my palm behind her neck and drawing her to me.
And kissing her soundly, I check in again with those eyes that beg me not to ruin everything.
Unbidden, the image pokes its ugliness before me again: Bella taunting me with that guy. And it occurs to me why it bothers me so much.
A/N: Aw shit, Edward. NOW what? XXX ~BOH