Thank you everyone for the reviews and adds this last week. Thanks to Stratan for beta'ing, and thanks to stephk0525, claireoth, and twilover76 for putting aside time out of their RL to read this nonsense for me ;)
This chapter should answer a couple of questions I've gotten recently. Also, in this fic, Edward always doubts himself and the good things (including Bella) that happen to him. Always. It's just who he is and doesn't necessarily mean anything.
OK, moving on now. Happy Valentine's Day!
Chapter 23
Bella
I glared down at the textbook sitting in my lap. Studying. It'd been all I'd done lately, since I apparently had every asshole professor on campus this semester. My work load still didn't compare to Edward or Jasper's, but it was close enough that my brain was feeling a little fried.
I needed a break.
I reached over and fumbled with my phone that was sitting on the nightstand. I hadn't had time to really send Charlie anything more than a quick "I'm really busy, I'll call you back as soon as I can" text since getting back together with Edward. And Renee... I couldn't remember the last email I'd sent to her.
So I was making up for that now. Starting with my dad.
"Who're you calling?" Edward asked as he stepped into my room.
"Charlie. Why?" I asked, giving him an odd look when he visibly flinched at my answer. He was usually so unconcerned about my relationships with people, unless the specific person was Garrett.
So I was a little surprised by his reaction.
"Uh..." Hand through the hair. "Can you call him later? You know, after I leave? All we've done is fucking study together, and I have you to myself tonight without any books between us, and... I was kind of thinking I could take you out."
Seemed Edward and I had been thinking along the same wavelength today.
"On a date?"
He nodded and swallowed hard. "Something like that."
"And what exactly are we doing on this date?"
He shrugged. "Dinner and then... a movie? I don't know. I hadn't really gotten that far yet."
"So I'll call him before I get ready."
His eyes darted away, his expression guilty, anxious.
Weird.
"I haven't had time to talk to him lately. And I haven't really spoken to Renee since school started," I continued. "I really should before one of them starts to worry or something. Plus, I've not told them about us... Unless you're still wanting to keep it quiet?"
"No, I... Fuck." He sighed and plopped down on the bed beside me. "Never mind."
He mumbled something under his breath and right then, I knew something was up.
"Why can't I call my dad?" I asked suspiciously.
"No reason."
"Edward."
"Baby, don't ask me. I can't... I promised..."
My eyes narrowed. "Promised what, exactly?"
He shook his head and lay down, not uttering a single sound in explanation.
A thousand things raced through my mind as I whispered, "You're freaking me out a little."
"Shit. Sorry. I just... Ikindofpromisedyourdad..." he finished incoherently.
Surely that didn't sound like what I thought it did...
"Excuse me?"
"Ikindofpromisedyourdad... I um, I called him to see..."
A jolt of realization went through me. "He told you where to find me."
"Yeah," he answered warily.
"How the hell would he know where I was?" I demanded.
"You didn't tell him?"
I glared at him.
"I don't know," he insisted. "I just asked if he knew where your apartment was, and he told me you wouldn't be there. Then he made me agree to... all kinds of shit to get rest of the information."
"Like what?"
"Like... everything I should be doing anyway. So it doesn't matter," he replied.
"It does matter," I protested. "I'm so sick of everyone meddling in my life!"
Edward snorted. "If no one meddled, do you think I'd really be sitting with you right now?"
I blinked.
"Think about it. If Jasper wasn't constantly on my ass about you; if he and the chief didn't always try to get you to wait it out, would we really be sitting here?"
I didn't know how to answer that.
"I'm grateful for their meddling. Because if they hadn't been so involved, I wouldn't have gotten that push I needed to get my shit together. You might have gone on a date with fucking Garrett, and no matter how much I hate to admit it, he's better for you than I'll ever be. You could have fallen in love with the fucker, and I'd have no one to blame for it but myself."
Here we go again...
"Don't say that," I snapped.
"Why? It's true. I'm lucky I saw you with him when I did. Lucky I had the sense to stop fucking around and tell you how I felt."
"It's not. At all. And you know it. He's Garrett. What can I do to convince you that never, in any parallel universe, would I have feelings for him?"
"If not him, someone else," he responded.
I growled in frustration. "You are the most stubborn man I've ever met. I love you. Not anyone else. End of discussion."
He grinned. And I happy as I was that he smiled so freely with me now, at that second, I wanted nothing more than to wipe it right off his face. This argument was getting so unbelievably old.
"Forget it. I'm calling Charlie."
"Don't say anything."
"Only if you promise to tell me what it is he made you agree to."
His jaw worked as he weighed his options. "You'd be making me go back on my word to your father, Bella."
"He'll never know."
"Right. He's the chief of police. He knows everything."
I ignored that - out of pure denial - and dialed my father's number.
"Hey, Dad."
"Well, it's about time you called," he greeted unhappily.
"Sorry. I told you I've been busy."
Rustling on the other end. "I know," he said. "What up there's got you so busy you can't call the old man?"
I almost snorted. Like he didn't know. "School. Finding a job... Edward."
At the sound of his name, Edward's eyes shot up to mine.
He was worried.
I barely resisted reaching out to comfort him.
Only because I was still annoyed with the never-ending Garrett argument.
"Is that..." Charlie cleared his throat nervously. "Is that so?"
"Yep. I got an apology, an 'I love you', and everything."
"That was enough?"
"The fact that he's trying so hard is."
His answering grunt was followed by a lull of silence.
"You're happy, right?" he finally asked.
"Well," I answered, "it hasn't been that long but it's good. I'm happy. Really happy. He's... different. He's the same but... improved?"
"He'd better be," he mumbled.
I sighed. Glanced back up at Edward. He was moving to the other side of the room, his hand cautiously running over Maggie's file. There was no way I was going to be able to talk to Charlie without screaming that I knew about his conversation with Edward. Nor would I be able to pay attention to whatever reason my father had to get involved. Not with Edward skimming through Maggie's information like he was.
That was more important than my father's meddling any day.
"Hey, um, Dad, I hate to cut this short but Edward promised to take me out tonight. So I should probably get ready."
"Let me talk to him."
"Uh, what?"
"You heard me, Bella," he replied quickly. "Let me talk to him."
"Err..."
"I'm not going to scare him. I just want to ask him something."
I crossed the room and handed Edward my phone, shrugging when I was met with his confused look.
"Hello, sir," he said politely.
A pause. And then a noncommittal hum of agreement.
"All of it, yeah."
His eyes found mine again, a soft, soothing smile quirking one side of his lips; I'd been wringing my hands anxiously.
I dropped them to my sides.
"She says she is."
Another pause.
"It's all I want... Yeah..." His fingers wound through my hair; he kissed my forehead. God, I loved who he was now. No one got to see this side of him but me when we were alone. Otherwise, he was quiet... guarded. "Thank you. I will."
He said a goodbye, handed me back the phone, and then turned back toward the documents on my desk.
"You're never going to tell me what all that's about, are you?"
"No... Your father can."
"Like that's ever going to happen," I said, rolling my eyes.
"He just wants to protect you. And make sure you're happy. It's understandable that he's wary of me. Fuck, I'm wary too, and I know how much I want to make it right. I don't know that I'll ever make it right or have the capability... I keep waiting to do something to push you away or that shows what kind of shit I came from again."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"That self-deprecation thing. You've been doing it since you came in my room."
"Oh," he breathed. "I didn't realize I was."
"I know."
He flashed a sheepish grin. "So... Maggie played piano, huh?"
I shoved down the elation that that question elicited in me. He was ready to learn a little more about his sister, the past, even if it was something as superficial as this.
"She was phenomenal," I responded. I searched through the pages of the file and found the newspaper clipping I'd been looking for. "Here. Read it."
He skimmed over the article quickly, his lips moving with each word said. When he was through, he wordlessly handed me back the clipping and rocked on his heels. I couldn't tell if he was just trying to gather his thoughts or if he was gathering his emotions instead, so I opened the file folder with the intention of slipping the article inside...
Only to fumble and have something else fall out and skid across the floor, landing right at his feet.
I stood, frozen in horror, and waited for his reaction. He sucked in a breath and stared down at the composition for a moment - reading it, maybe? - and then he slowly bent down to retrieve it. His hand shook as he picked it up; his eyes found mine, wide and panicked.
"This is... This is..."
I nodded. "What she wrote to get that scholarship you just read about."
He exhaled slowly, "At sixteen."
"Yeah... Are you okay?"
He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. "I'm okay," he answered. "Seeing this makes it feel fucking real."
"What do you mean?"
"Like..." He shook his head. "I'm not sure. She did all of this in such a short amount of time and I... I've wasted my entire life being pissed off and afraid. Carlisle and Esme would have made sure I had the same opportunities, and I couldn't see past-"
"You did the best you could given the circumstances."
He simply looked at me.
"Hey-"
"Can I keep this?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes?"
"I thought I might play it."
An emotion lanced through me, causing my chest to ache. I'd waited all these months for this.
"You all right?" he asked, his gaze zeroing in on the hand that had snuck up and started rubbing over my heart.
I gave him a smile. "Yeah, I- Yeah. I'm fine."
More than fine.
"Edward, come on," I coaxed, grabbing his hand and leading him into the small, downtown brick building in front of us. For whatever reason, I was excited to be here. Maybe it was because it was connected to what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Or maybe because it was a challenge for Edward, and I was a part of it. Finally.
The reason didn't matter, though. Only the man beside me, dragging his feet, did. And I had a sneaking suspicion that if I didn't get him inside soon, he'd turn around and walk away.
So I decided to goad him a little.
"Don't be such a baby."
"I... Damn it, Bella," he grumbled, trepidation written all over him. His eyebrows were knit, his mouth in a thin line. His body was rigid and it was almost like I was pulling dead weight behind me as we crossed the street.
"How are you ever going to be a surgeon touching someone's insides if you can't even hand out food to people less fortunate than you?" I asked.
"I uh... I don't fucking know," he snapped back. "I'll figure it out."
I stepped up to the sidewalk and stopped, turning to face him. "Come on," I said again, this time gentler. "Dr. Banner would love to hear that you made it through this when you see him tomorrow..."
"Fuck. Fine." He started moving with me willingly. "I cannot believe I'm doing this."
"What if I told you I'd make it worth your while we got back?"
That had his interest. "With what?"
"With... I don't know," I said on a shrug. "With whatever you want, I guess."
"I can have anything?"
"Within reason."
"You. On your knees with your ass in the air while I fuck you. That's what I want," he said wickedly.
I pretended to think about it, only to torture him a little. There was no need to think of it at all. It had been an excruciating couple of weeks together. I could barely get him to touch me again, much less act on all the things that vulgar mouth threatened me with. And as much as I wanted to jump him and make him touch me, I knew I couldn't. Edward was working through his problems as best as he could. Me pushing him further - before he was ready - would only cause more.
I was barely able to contain my frustrated sigh.
"Deal."
"Fuck. Yes," he breathed.
We walked a little further before I blurted, "You're really going to do it?"
He stopped momentarily, making me cringe. And then he hung his head. "Shit, I'm fucking this up again."
"You're not. I'm just..."
"No, I am," he argued. Then he huffed and straightened up. "One of these days I'll figure it out. And make good on every fucking word I've ever said."
My lips lifted slightly.
"But, baby, believe me when I say I'm actually following through tonight. I don't think I can stay away from you anymore."
"You don't have to say that," I mumbled.
"I'm not just fucking saying anything." His eyes darkened and he closed the distance between us. "I've done nothing today but think of how your legs feel around my waist when I'm fucking you. How soft your skin is, how your whole body flushes when you come. How slick and hot your pretty little-"
"Alright, alright," I interrupted him, swallowing hard. "I get it."
"You're squirming," he said in amusement.
I glared at him. Of course I was squirming. Did he not hear a thing he just said to me?
"Well, yeah," I muttered petulantly.
"I'm sorry." His lips twitched with the urge to laugh.
Now my eyes narrowed.
"Really, I am. Fuck, let's just get in here and do this shit, okay?"
"You'll be fine," I whispered.
He grunted and grabbed my hand.
"You will," I promised. It was just one more hurdle to get past, and none of them were too high. "Because you always are."
"Bella-"
"Stop. I know what you're doing."
His jaw clenched as his eyes darted off to the left.
"You keep saying 'let's go in there' and then changing the subject. You're stalling."
"Fuck."
"Mmm, later," I teased lazily.
That earned a tight, somewhat tortured laugh.
But at least it was there.
Edward followed me to the doors, stopping to read a plaque that was embedded into the building's facade.
You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat. Isaiah: Chapter 25, verse 4.
"Church, Bella? I don't do fucking church."
"It's not a church," I argued. "It's a shelter."
He arched his brow.
"You have faith. You have hope. It may not be in the same form as theirs, but it's still there."
"I know," he retorted. And then he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the outburst. "Are they going to make me get on my knees and pray?"
"No," I giggled. "You're here to see how the place works and help out with dinner. Stop being so ridiculous and get inside."
He threw the door open and gestured me in. Angrily.
I almost turned around and said forget it. Nothing was worth seeing him worked up like this.
Except I couldn't. He needed this. We needed this.
His anger grew as we met the director and were led through the facility and watched some of the residents do their daily chores.
It became palpable as we saw where the temporary families slept at night, when the pastor started speaking to us about their long-term program and drug rehab.
And just when I expected him to explode, he did the opposite.
He shut down. Stood there while I greeted more people than I imagined could fit inside this place. More people than I knew lived like this in Seattle. I'd been so distanced from it all until now. This is who my Edward was in Chicago. Worse, actually. He didn't have the opportunity to come here and sleep, too afraid he'd be discovered by a social worker and ripped away from all he knew... discovered by someone who wanted him dead.
"Edward," I murmured, giving him an encouraging smile.
Please, I pleaded to myself. Just try.
He focused on a woman across the room for a while, then her son. His face took on a pained look, his hand trembled as he reached across the counter and handed the next person, a man, in line a fork.
His eyes never left the boy.
His fingers brushed against the man's as he passed off the utensil.
He drew in a sharp breath and yanked his hand back.
He shook his head, closed his eyes. "Bella," he whimpered.
Too much. It was too much for him.
"Go," I whispered. "I'll be out as soon as I can."
I watched him bolt out the door, and then searched for the director. As soon as I spotted her, I waved her over and explained the situation.
She gave an understanding nod, but her eyes couldn't hide her surprise.
For the most part, Edward hid his demons well.
I rushed outside and scanned the area for him, finding him pacing on the opposite side of the street. I waited for the traffic to clear, ran over to him, and stopped just shy of reaching him.
I didn't know how to approach him. He was wild in his movements, frightening in the way he cursed to himself.
"We don't have to do that again," I told him.
His eyes shot to mine as he stopped mid-step, full of fire. "The fuck we don't," he snarled.
"Wh- What?"
The pacing resumed. "I'm not letting that shit win, Bella."
I blinked. Over and over again as I tried to figure out if I'd heard him correctly or not.
"You're sure?"
He gave me a hard look.
I took that as a yes.
"It amazes me," I said softly, fighting off a proud smile, "how much you've worked through in the last few months."
The old Edward wouldn't have been so determined to work through it. He would have disappeared for days because of this.
He groaned, stopped again. This time, he grabbed my hand to jerk me against him and kissed me so hard my toes curled inside my shoes. His fingers dug into my flesh as he composed himself, and when his eyes finally met mine, the tender look in them took my breath away.
His hand came up to brush the hair away from my eyes. He inhaled sharply, and then cracked a smile. "Say it again."
"You amaze me, Edward," I answered immediately.
"I don't... Why?"
"Because I love you, dummy," I laughed.
"I will never fucking grow tired of hearing any of that."
"We'll see."
He glowered at me.
"Or not."
"Better."
"So what's the plan?"
"We're going back," he said resolutely. "Tonight and every other fucking Sunday night until I get over it. Or our schedules change. Whichever comes first."
"Okay..." I pressed a kiss to his lips, and then extricated myself out of his grasp so we could go back inside. "Okay."
Not long after we went back, he let go of whatever had been eating away at him. Gone was the awkward, socially inept man I fell in love with, replaced with someone kind, compassionate, generous of heart; although, he was still uneasy with being in such close proximity to everyone. Because of this, his guard was still in place. Not all the details of his past were given out when he shared a few stories. And if I didn't know him so well, I'd have never been able to tell that he was reluctant to even mention anything at all. I stood there, useless, and in awe of his strength, his life, and soaked it all up so that I felt every word linger on my skin.
The love I had for him was overwhelming, staggering.
He reiterated his promise to come back every Sunday to the director, and then led me to his car, pinning me up against the door and moving his hands all over my body. There was desperation along the edges of his kiss, showing me just how shaken he was by whatever memories that place pulled out of his subconscious.
I let him take me as he wanted against the car, let him hitch my leg up and rock his hips into mine. Kiss me until my heart pounded and my breathing grew ragged. I gave him reassurance in the only way I knew how.
Me.
Until someone walking by catcalled.
I broke away from him, my hand fluttering above my heart. He was the only one whose touch could ever make my heart sprint like that.
The only one who would.
The drive to my apartment was quiet, the air thick and heavy between us. He didn't speak when he got out, either. He simply waited for me on the sidewalk and followed me up to my apartment, where he walked right past me and shut himself in the bathroom.
I wanted to cry.
So I did the dishes instead.
"Alice isn't coming home any time soon, is she?"
I yelped with his sudden reappearance before I answered, clutching the plastic cup in my hand. "No..."
"Good."
Before I could question him, Edward was hovering over me, his long, lean body pressed against mine deliciously as he took the cup from me and dropped it back into the sink.
"Thank God that wasn't glass," I mumbled.
No response, just the lifting of the little, blue dress I had on and the ghosting of fingers all over me. A few quick movements, and my panties fell to the floor. I used my feet to flick them aside, which gave him just enough room to toy with me.
Heat raced through me. Desire pooled deep in my belly. My breathing came out in sharp gasps with every pass and my heart started racing again.
I brought his other hand up to my chest. "You do that. You make my heart beat like this when you touch me."
"Fuck," he moaned. "How's that even possible?"
"Because it's yours."
All of it. Every last piece of me.
His hold tightened. And then his finger slipped inside me. Followed by another, still cool from where he'd splashed water on his face just moments ago.
I'd wanted this for so long; him, unbidden, reckless, willing.
"You like that, baby?" he growled against my ear. "You like my fingers fucking you?"
My head fell back against his shoulder; my hips flexed into his hand.
I moaned a reply.
"I can tell... Jesus," he grunted.
His thumb made a pass over my clit, just a feather light touch, and then he applied more pressure, circling in time with his fingers' thrusts.
"Oh, God. Oh... God, Edward..."
"Yes," he hissed as my body tightened around him. He held me up, spread my legs just enough so his hand had more freedom.
Soon I was moaning again, begging incoherently for something unknown - more - as I came. Vision blurry and dazed, he spun me around, picked me up, and sat me down on the counter. He pushed my legs apart and settled between them.
"I need you... I need inside you," he groaned. He fought with his jeans briefly before shoving them down his legs and jerking my dress up over my head. He grabbed the cups of my bra and pushed them down so he could kiss, lick, suck... bite.
Another moan, quite possibly the word "shit", but I wasn't sure. I was too far gone to tell. Already, I ached with the need to come again, to feel our bodies joined.
The condom wrapper crinkled in his hands.
The now-covered head of him slid over me; I trembled.
Took to begging.
"Please," I grabbed at his arms, "please, please, please..."
In one thrust, he was fully inside me. I gasped as my entire body lit up, clung to him while he wasted no time setting a pace. Fast. Hard. Relentless. Unrestrained. Better than I'd dreamed, better than the last time. There was just one thing missing: the fact that I couldn't feel him, blocked by a layer of latex instead.
One of these days...
I bounced against him, vaguely aware of his words or his heavy, staccato breaths in my ear.
"Baby," he grunted. "Baby, come. Touch yourself... Fuck, I need you to come."
I followed his instructions and let my hand fall between us. He spread me open further, watching our connection with dark, dark eyes.
Oh, holy Christ...
I screwed my eyes shut and - mindful of the neighbors hearing - bit back a scream as I climaxed around him. He stole my breath with a hungry kiss and found his own release, stilling inside me so I could feel every last inch of him.
"Shit," I managed to say against his lips, this time somewhat coherently.
"I fucking love you... so much," he said as he sagged against me, nuzzling into my neck.
I smiled and ran my hands through his hair. I wanted to repeat the words, but they weren't right. Enough.
So I stayed tangled up with him as we came down from our highs.
"I told you I was following through tonight."
I laughed once. "So you did."
"And before you ask, I'm okay. I don't think it'll take me as long to get back to this point. My reaction wasn't as... extreme."
I smiled happily.
"But next time I'm tasting you."
Blink. "Huh?'
"Tasting you," he repeated, trailing kisses over my flushed skin. "Savoring you. Every fucking part of you."
I struggled for a response.
"Would you want that?"
"Yes," I squeaked.
He grinned.
The doorbell rang.
I scrambled away from him and bent down to retrieve my clothes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mumbled before loudly saying, "Be right there!"
Edward gave me an annoyed look.
"I forgot Garrett was coming by."
"He what?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
"He wanted my help on some project. Says I'm a Photoshop wiz or something. With the shelter and everything today, I completely forgot."
Edward stood there. Highly pissed.
"Get dressed? Please? And bleach the counter?"
He huffed.
I didn't have time to console him, so I let it go and rushed toward the door.
I made sure my dress was in place, and then opened it, smiling as soon as I saw Garrett's face.
He looked at my hair, the expression on my face... found Edward standing in the kitchen as he pulled his jeans up over his hips and buttoned them.
"You forgot."
I blushed. Fire red. "Sorry."
He shook his head. "I can come back..."
"Why don't you?" Edward chimed in pointedly.
I aimed a glare at him while speaking to Garrett. "No, you're staying. I promised to help, so I am."
I focused on Garrett again. I could hear Edward spraying the counter down as he debated it.
Mor-ti-fied.
He stepped past me and into the apartment.
"You can go ahead and sit down. I'll be right there," I told him.
I waited until he was on the couch before heading over to Edward.
"Make it quick," he said lowly.
My hands went up to my hips, a retort on the tip of my tongue...
"I still have to make good on my promise to fuck you from behind tonight."
"But I thought you..."
"For some reason, I have this need to hear you scream out my name later," he snarked, his eyes moving behind me to rest on Garrett.
"Edward..." I warned, only to trail off because his lips were suddenly latched onto my skin.
And it felt so, so good...
"Shit. You better not give me a hickey," I said, squirming in his arms.
He smirked as he pulled away, eyeing his handy work. "It'll be gone by morning."
"No, it won't! I bruise easily, you asshole!"
He dodged my hand with a laugh. "Go work on the project. The sooner you get him out of here, the sooner I get you back to myself."
"And what will you do?"
His eyes fell to my neck again. "Dig through your closet for a turtleneck, what else?"
"I don't have any turtlenecks, Edward," I answered in exasperation.
"Scarf?"
My lips twitched with his playful mood. "No."
Another beautiful, lopsided grin. "Guess I'll dig through Alice's shit, then."
I cocked my brow.
"What? I need something to distract myself while he's here."
"Don't be like that."
He shrugged. "Can't help it."
His eyes flashed with something as he glanced away.
Insecurity.
I stood on my toes so I could kiss him. "Then come and hang with us."
He scoffed, "Really, Bella? Like that's not bound to be fucking awkward."
"Only if you let it."
He glared at me. "This is me we're talking about here. It's not like I can exactly help that shit."
"Okay, good point. But I don't want you to go."
"I won't be gone, exactly," he returned. "Just in the other room."
I still pouted.
He made a garbled sound of frustration and shoved a hand through his hair. "Jesus, I'm fucking whipped."
I giggled, "It's mutual. I promise."
"Yeah."
I pulled his face down and kissed him. Hard. "You won't regret it. I swear."
He pushed away from me with a light smack on my ass. "We'll see."