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My fingers fly into my hair, though the gesture no longer soothes me.
"Did you guys have a fight?" he asks quietly.
"No! God no. Nothing like that."
His eyes ask the obvious—What the fuck is your problem then?
"You saw her dress."
He smirks and I scowl. "Sorry," he says quickly, placating me with two palms out.
"So what? She's got a great body and she likes to show it off. You should be proud getting a girl like that."
"Pfffft," I huff.
"What's that mean?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.
"Bella could get any guy she wants."
-o-
"Maybe, but the guy she wants seems to be you. Unless you're gonna go and do something to fuck it all up, that is."
I cross my arms and try to look intimidating. He ignores me and plows on.
"You're not gonna go and fuck it all up, are you, Edward?"
I sigh heavily and spill my guts, hoping maybe he can say something to help. "Seeing the way other guys look at her just makes me lose my mind a little bit."
"Edward, I guarantee you she doesn't even notice the attention. She's over the moon for you, buddy."
-o-
"I guess I'm just having a bit of trouble accepting that I'm the one she's chosen. All of this…" I wave my hand game-show-host style, from my shoes to my jeans to my new shirt and my hair, "…just feels like I'm posing sometimes. She's just so amazing."
"She is. But have you forgotten you're quite the catch yourself?"
He's so earnest and worried about me and maybe the whiskey's kicking in, but I just start to laugh. "You coming on to me, Whitlock?"
"Yes, I want you," he deadpans. "How about we go inside and dance with our dates?"
A/N: Most of you know I won't spoil the story for you in a review reply, so if you've made a prediction, whether it's right or wrong, I read it, I chuckled, I enjoyed...but I won't be answering. Thank you for your continued support for the story. Your loyalty has this story dangerously close to the 10K review mark. That's a lot of typing, folks! MWAH! XXX ~BOH