Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'd by HollettLA.
I don't know why I'm updating this early . . . erm. Yeah, I don't know :-)
Please enjoy! Leave me some extra lovin' . . . I'm pretty sure I'll be updating twice a week. The story is still moving a bit slow . . . I just have these people to speak from. It's awesome! (sigh)
Enjoy.
"Riders on the Storm"
Chapter Fourteen: Breaking the Habit
DAMION
There was someone knocking at the door and they wouldn't stop. Hoping to ignore the short, rapping, and incessant sound, I wondered if my roommate would get it.
"Ethan . . ." I mumbled into my pillow, "get the door." He's always awake freakishly early. "Just answer it." My body rolled and hit something.
"Huh?" Amelia asked.
"Oh, shit." My arm, which was raised, slowly came down to cuddle her.
"What'd you say?" Amelia buried her head into my armpit. She had her phone in her hand—typing away, while it also dinged with another message.
I blinked, having forgotten that she'd spent the night. "Hey…" I kissed her hair, "how long you been up?"
She sighed. "A while. I was just calling—"
I smiled, turning over to kiss her lips.
"Morning breath." She covered her mouth with the sheet.
There was another knock and then a bang. But I ignored it by quickly pulling the sheet away to kiss her forcefully—sticking my tongue down her throat, exploring that beautiful mouth.
"Damion…" She giggled and kissed me back, and she tasted like Amelia—my girl. "Shouldn't you get the door?"
When the knocking continued, I turned to see my room empty. Of course, Ethan wasn't here; Amelia was. I put the scarf on the door, and he knows to sleep in the common room when I do that. "Who is it?" I shouted, upset to be bothered when I don't have class or clinic today.
Not to mention, Amelia was in bed with me.
Plus, it's Sunday, and my only plan is to get my ass to my parents' for Sunday dinner, but that's later on and it's not even a mandatory thing.
Amelia and I could stay in bed all day . . .
Two weeks ago, I changed my priorities around—deciding to keep my "extracurricular" activities to a minimum, or see how long it lasts at least. One thing was for sure; I needed to make a few life changes. Basically, I'm trying to act normal, and not over think everything that I don't give a fuck about anyway.
No one's died.
So far so good, right?
This year it's: studying, classes, labs, and clinical time spent at the hospital.
It was time for me to make those "life" decisions . . . put myself on the path to greatness, a path to the future.
"You want me to get it?" She sat up to slip on her bra.
"I got it." I helped her with the clasp before I placed a kiss on her heart. When I picked my head up, we locked gazes—and I always seem to get lost when that happens. "Hey."
"Hi." She smiled brightly, only to kiss me again.
Overzealous, this overwhelming feeling of joy in my heart, I deepened the kiss and quickly hovered over her. "I—" I shook my head, backing the fuck off of her fast.
She reached to hold my cheeks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." I couldn't look at her, not when I was about to blurt the words "I love you" after only knowing her for a little more than two weeks. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I was buggin' —pussy-drunk, Amelia making me stupid, and this was worse in comparison to my other infatuations. First, I never actually met those other women. I only admired them from afar—I didn't know them. Then again, how well does anyone know anyone?
My brother teases me about this shit and I always deny it, but it's kind of true.
Women easily manipulate me—they're evil.
"Damion?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry." I turned to peck her lips. "I just—" I waved to my head.
"You should rest today." She massaged my shoulder, looking to the door. "You've been busy—you're not sleeping enough."
"I slept last night." It was peaceful having her here in my arms. She also damn near fucked me into a coma. Thank God for small favors.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Who do you think it is?"
"Who is it?!" I hollered.
"Geez." Amelia covered her ears. "When you yell, you yell."
I grinned, placing a kiss on her temple. "I—"
More knocks…
We both stared at the door now, and I wondered why no one was responding. "Who is it?" I was frustrated when I should be trying to sleep some more . . . or fuck my girlfriend.
"Hello?" I asked, grabbing my nine from the nightstand. "How can I help you?" Whoever was at the door had stopped knocking. "Get in the closet," I whispered to Amelia.
Her eyes went wide.
"Just do it." I gave her ass a nudge, rising to get the door, and she did as I said. That was one of the things I adored about Amelia. She's great at taking direction—listening to me and heeding my warnings. "Who's there?" I knocked back.
"It's me, um, can you just open the door?"
It sounded like Kylie. "What are you doing here?" I placed my nine in my boxers.
"Dame . . . can you just let me in? I've been out here forever, and . . ." She kept going while I grabbed a t-shirt and put it on. "I don't have a lot of time, and, oh—" Kylie stopped talking when I tore open the door.
"What's up?" I looked to her confused.
"You have a thing on the knob," she spoke of the black scarf, "do you have a girl here?" She tried to see around me. "It better be Amelia."
"Just get in." Pulling her into the room, I noticed she had been crying, but I wasn't surprised. Okay, I was. Mom said she was getting better. "What's wrong?"
She started crying again as she took a seat on my bed. "I, um . . ." She stopped to take hold of my pillow and hug it. "Ugh . . . it's wet. There's drool on it," she pushed it away, "or jizz . . . gross."
Giving her a look, I let Amelia out of the closet. "It's just Kylie..." I said, because she was still in her underwear.
Don't women usually congregate in their panties? Always squealing and trying on each others clothes, they have the same parts and all that good shit?
Fuck.
If I was a woman, I'd sit at home, in front of a mirror, and masturbate all day long.
I wouldn't even hold a fucking job . . . just saying.
"You're beautiful," I told Amelia.
She grinned and ducked her gaze, stepping out from the closet.
"Oh . . . you're busy—" My sister went to get up. "I'm sorry."
"No. It's fine." Amelia walked out, picking up her discarded clothes. "I should go." She slipped her blouse on.
"Don't." I grasped her hand, stopping her, yet I helped her with those buttons. Half the fun of getting her naked is dressing her up again.
She made a face, grimacing sadly and placing her hands on mine. "I have to—promised my mom—Elena I'd go to church, and then . . . with her. I already called for a ride. I was going to tell you before . . . Pietro and Mom should be here any minute, actually."
"Oh." I frowned, biting the inside of my cheek. "Come to dinner tonight—at my parents' house."
"Yeah." Kylie nodded. "Mom would—" Her face crumbled and she was crying again. "Mommy…"
Amelia and I looked back to each other. "I'll see what's up." She came closer to whisper, "Talk to your sister. There's obviously something wrong." Then her phone dinged and she went for it. "I was right." She showed me the text. Her driver was outside.
I slipped my sneakers on. "I'll walk you out."
"No. Pete'll meet me at the steps." She stared at Kylie. "Just…" Her eyes widened as she gestured to my sister, a silent indication I talk to her.
I huffed, nodding; meanwhile, being consoling isn't exactly my thing. My sister should be talking to Amelia. She'd be a lot more helpful as I find women usually are.
But then I had a brief thought. "Is there someone out there you don't want me to see? Why can't I walk you out?"
"No—God, no." Amelia shook her head. "No…my mom—my stepmom's in the car, but . . ." She placed her hands on my chest, hopping up to peck my lips. "I'll see you . . . hopefully later?"
"You'll be there," I said, hugging her to me the tightest I could.
I still don't know what it is about this broad, but I was falling hard and fast in love with her.
Last night, when my shift ended at the hospital, we were supposed to go to dinner and a show. That never happened. We had one helluva fuck-fest right here, ate shit from the bodega down the block, drank a couple 22s of Heineken, and then fucked some more.
Christ. Maybe I only get to see her a few days a week, but I've never had this much sex in my entire life. We haven't agreed on anything, nor have we spoken about what we are.
I'm trying to be casual, which is something I've never done. Yet—to me, possibly only me—our relationship was anything but casual.
"I'll try," she whispered, which was shocking. I was surprised she didn't just agree, although it was kind of refreshing.
I let her go so she could squirm the rest of the way into her jeans.
"Yeah." I pushed my hair back. "Whatever. If you have shit to do, some other cat to see…"
"No way!" she exclaimed. "Don't be like that." She squeezed my hand, her purse strap falling from her shoulder.
"I'm not being like anything. Do what you want." I helped her right her bag.
"I just haven't seen my family in—"
"You live with them," I said.
"True, but—"
I put my hand up to stop her. "There's no need to explain. I'll see you when I see you."
"Damion." She stared up at me.
"I have shit to do anyway," I lied to save face.
When she reached for me, I pretended to check my email after opening my laptop.
And that was my version of trying to be casual.
There was no way I'd beg her to stay or come to dinner. With trying to change, Amelia makes it easy—I'm distracted by her, her body, the way I feel when we're together, and other things…
My mind is just chill when she's around.
Lately, I've been trying to think up ways to spend more time with her. Or, possibly, making her just as desperate for the company as I am.
But we might have totally different views on our . . . relationship. Maybe shit is casual for her; she doesn't give a fuck.
And so, why should I give a fuck about her?
Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
If I'm getting pussy—crazy hot sex—without any real commitment, why should I try so fucking hard to be her man?
Fuck that.
But besides Amelia being amazing and my personal feelings, there are about six million reasons why I should try to be her man—that's just the truth. If Pops is going to give me three mil, and Luke will match that…?
Fuck that shit, too.
I'm above caring for someone who can't for me—it makes no sense; it's a waste of time.
"Damion?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, what?"
Amelia's shoulders slumped. "I think we need to talk."
"I don't see why…"
She frowned. "Are, are we okay?" Her tone was hushed as she gave Kylie a wary glance.
"Why wouldn't we be?" I asked.
"Um—"
"Don't you have to leave?" I gestured to the door.
Amelia turned away from me. "Kylie…it was great seeing you. I hope you feel better." She waved to my sister, hopping from foot to foot, putting her heels on. "We'll talk more later—after dinner?" She faced me again.
I was quick to look away.
"What time is dinner?" she asked.
"U-usually around five." Kylie sniffled.
"Oh . . ." Amelia seemed at a loss, staring down to her.
"I'm—I'm okay." Kylie was a blubbering mess.
Amelia stared in my direction again; I felt her eyes on me.
But I never said a word, hitting delete a bunch of times to get rid of junk mail.
After she left, I turned to my sister. "To what do I owe this visit? The Village isn't exactly around the corner from Bay Ridge." I forced a laugh, and she had quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I just . . ."
"Kylie . . . if you're this fucking wrecked, just go to Texas—get a job or something until school starts." Without any tissues, I gave her a dirty shirt I had lying around. "You're going to be nineteen. Mom and Dad can't stop you."
"What's—what's this for?" She held up the t-shirt.
Taking the sleeve and wiping under her eyes, I asked, "Can you tell me what's wrong? Is this really about Gio?" Growing concerned, I gave her my full attention. Then I looked out the window. My room overlooks the street. "You had Vito drive you?" That grease ball sat in his car reading the newspaper, and then I saw Amelia hop into the back of Pietro's large Lincoln Town Car.
"I was on my way to the salon . . . I came here instead, so I could do this." She rummaged around her purse and then tore into a plastic bag, only to hand me a pregnancy test.
"No!" I pushed her hand away, my face falling. "I thought—I thought you were on the pill?" Quickly, I tried to do the mental math in my head. My sister was supposed to get married like three weeks ago, so . . .
"Could it possibly be Gio's?" My throat was dry, and I was nervous and scared for her.
She shrugged. "Gio and I only had that one night. He went back to school that Monday . . . We talk on the phone and Skype daily, but yeah. It can't be his—I don't think."
"Christ . . . You didn't use a condom?"
"I don't know." She sniffled. "I know Gio did. We went through like four, and—"
"How do you not know if Joe used a condom?" I chuckled, shaking my head.
"We were in the car, the backseat both times . . . No!" she exclaimed. "I remember . . . oh, man." She covered her face. "The first time he did. I know because I stole the wrapper . . . The second time, he said we were getting married anyway. It was bad and I just laid there . . . I thought women had to, you know, in order to get pregnant."
I shook my head. "What's 'you know'? Just spit it out—"
"Come . . . um, have an orgasm? Natalie at school told me—"
"You're such a fucking child." All I could do was shake my head at her.
"I am not!"
"You have absolutely no business even having sex!" I shouted. "None!"
"You don't know what you're talking about." She punched me, and her whiny, high-pitched voice was suddenly driving me insane. "I'm a woman, even Dad—"
"Oh my God. Just stop talking for a second," I said, blowing out a breath. "Shit."
"Damion—" She squeaked a sob, throwing herself into my arms.
"It'll be okay." I rubbed her back.
"I can't lose Gio. I can't—I can't do this. I can't be . . . I can't be a mom yet," she cried. "Oh God . . . Daddy. He's going to hate me and kick me out, and—"
"Mom would never let him do that, and I don't think Dad would do that either—"
"I thought I wanted a baby, but now . . . I mean, Joe and I had plans. I thought a baby would be good. I don't know what I was thinking. Then Gio . . . Gio." She hiccupped.
"Relax." I knew this was horrible, but it wasn't the end of the world. "I thought you were on the pill?"
"One night, it was before we had sex again, Joe, um, he told me to stop taking them."
"And you listened?" I reached out to shake her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Stop." She pushed me off. "His family expected us to have a baby right away." She rushed out, speaking over me. "What was I supposed to do? He was going to be my husband—we wanted to start a family, and babies make everyone happy. I thought, thought if I had a baby—"
"Just shut the fuck up a minute." I pushed her away from me to stare at her. "Are you really that stupid? Did you go to a doctor?" I snorted without humor. "Did you at least start bleeding after you stopped the pills?"
"I spotted." She sniffled. "It was really light. I remember hoping it was gone before the wedding." She dried her eyes. "I know what I have to do. I'll get an abortion, and nobody needs to know about it."
Nodding, I actually agreed with her. "No matter whose kid it is, Dad won't let you do that. He has like this thing about babies, even if it's not a baby yet . . . But . . . that's debatable and not relatable. Did you talk to Mom?"
"I wouldn't be here if I did," she argued. "No one can know."
"Well, if you wanted to keep it, I mean. I bet she'd raise it just so you could go to school." That's all my mother keeps talking about—her daughter going to college and getting a career. "Gio might stick around." I winced. "He's a stand-up guy, and Joe—" I haven't heard anything about him or his family since that night. But Bianca called me, which was odd. I have no idea how she acquired my number, and I never answered. Maybe I should call her back?
"No!" She stood up to pace. "Then Dad would make me marry Joe. And Joe is an asshole. I realize that now." She held her bicep. "God. What did I see in him? I wanted to hurt him that night."
"No . . . he wouldn't make you marry him," I laughed, especially since Joe's . . . and Kylie has no idea. "You haven't taken the test yet?" I asked.
"No, according to the pills, if I was still taking them, my period is five days late." She nodded.
"So, you might not be pregnant?"
She stared at me. "No, I'm pregnant. A woman knows her own body." She turned to the mirror and pushed her stomach out.
I laughed at her again. "Joe must have some powerful sperm—"
"This is no time for jokes!" she barked at me.
"Listen, if you were bleeding after you stopped the pills, there's a good chance your body menstruated already, and it'd be light since you didn't go a whole 'nother month. Your period isn't late, Kylie. You probably already had it. You just screwed up your cycle."
"Thank you, Dr. Cullen." She folded her arms across her chest. "I had morning sickness today. I threw up, and—"
"Anxiety can do that, too—the mind is a powerful and fucked-up thing. Did you figure all this out yesterday?"
"But I'm bloated!" she screamed. "I'm—"
I tried to do the mental math again. "And you've probably got PMS, you dipshit! You're likely due for your period again next week…if you're regular—"
"Can you stop with the medical bullshit? I know I'm pregnant!" She whacked me with my pillow.
"Just listen to me!" I threw it back at her.
"All I need is for you to be there, take me there and back. I can chill here while I recuperate," she spoke over me again. "I called a woman's clinic not far from here—"
"And you haven't even taken the test yet?" I chuckled. "Kylie—"
"I need you to come with me and pay for it. I can't use my insurance card. If I do, Mom and Dad will find out, and I can't put it on a credit card either . . . I burned through all my cash. Nordstrom was having a sale." She counted off each point on a finger, and was currently going for her other hand. "Dad never took me shopping. Something came up like it always does . . . Mom says I shop too much. I didn't want to put that on my credit card either." She rolled her eyes. "Dad won't give me more money for another five days since I get my allowance on Fridays . . ."
"You're so spoiled . . . Dad just never handed me money like that." My father is like her personal ATM.
"Uh, hello? Dad still pays your credit card bill. And he's offered to buy you a car—"
"So?" I asked.
"You toured—went back packing through Europe after senior year for almost a month, which was funded by Dad. Oh, and he paid for you to take Julie with you, too. I'm not allowed to go to the fucking mall without a chaperone!" she shrieked. "And I have a curfew at eighteen! He pays to keep me sane!"
"You win," I whispered.
She slumped her shoulders. "It's a lot cheaper than I thought, like, five hundred bucks . . . This is what I want. No one has to know but you . . . and I might tell Mom. No, no, I can't." She was crying again. "She'd be so mad at me."
"I don't think she would." I rubbed her back. "She'd be more upset you kept this from her—if she ever found out."
"She might tell Daddy."
I shook my head. "Not if you asked her not to. Dad didn't even know you were having sex until he saw you half-naked." I grimaced at the thought—that poor bastard.
"I thought he was gonna kill me," she giggled through her tears. "Say you'll come with me." Kylie grasped my hand.
I nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. "Of course, I will. I'll go with you, pay for it, hold your hand, and I'll haunt you about telling Mom . . . but we're getting very ahead of ourselves." I didn't think she was pregnant.
As I grabbed the test, I left the bed to face her. "Go take it." I pushed it into her chest.
She puffed her cheeks. "I already know—"
"Take it!" My raised voice surprised her. "And regardless of the result, you're making yourself an appointment with your doctor. God knows where Joe's dick has been . . . Just saying." I raised a brow, opening my door to push her out. "Let's go."
"I always thought you were different," she spat, yet her tone was teasing. "You're just as bossy as Sonny and Dad."
"Whoa!" A asshat named Sean shouted. "Late night, Cullen? And this must be the screamer . . ." He reached for Kylie's hand.
I pushed him away from us, and he hit the wall. "Back off, fuck-o!"
His eyes widened. "I didn't even know you spoke." He smiled.
"Fuck you." I left to usher Kylie into the bathroom. "I'll be out here."
She stared down to the plastic bag in her hands.
"Do it." I closed the door, blowing out a breath as I stood in front of it. Sean was still staring at me. "What?" My body flinched toward him.
He jumped before turning to walk down the hall.
My gaze traveled south to see that I was still in boxers, and I hoped more people wouldn't be passing by.
At first, I was going to get an apartment this semester. Then I decided to stay here. I could focus on school—not get distracted.
Believe it or not, coed housing had only two rooms left. Sadly for Ethan, I'm a slob where he's very neat. We get along, though. He's in the med program, too, and keeps to himself.
And living here is so much better than being home.
Here in Manhattan, it's a whole different world. First and foremost, it's not incestuous. That may sound surprising, but in Bay Ridge—the neighborhood—everybody knows everybody, and everyone is fucking, or has fucked, everyone, too. We all know each other, are in each other's businesses and lives.
It's not a big place, and Bay Ridge seems like Mars in comparison to Manhattan. There are many different people, and there's always something to do.
Not that I have a lot of personal time, but it's nice to know I have choices if I want them...
I sighed, hearing the toilet flush. "You okay?"
"It takes three minutes." She opened the door, and I entered.
Kylie washed her hands, leaving the test on the sink, and I stared at the bowl, needing to pee.
"Can you turn around?" I went to grab my junk.
"You're so gross." She grimaced, turning her head.
I chuckled as I continued to use the bathroom. "You just woke me up," I said.
"I see things are going well with Amelia. Do you love her?"
"It's only been like two-three weeks." I was doing mental math again.
"Most people know by now…if they will—like, if they can love the person or already do. She ran out of here fast, though . . . Maybe Amelia and I can hang out. All my friends are away. It's lonely. Blah." She rambled. "Business is picking up at the tanning salon, though—because it's getting cold. But that place is boring."
I didn't comment, trying to focus on the task at hand. Believe it or not, I've never pissed in front of anyone except…Sonny or Dad?
"Hurry up." She had her back to me.
Rolling my eyes, I gave myself a wiggle and put my dick away. "I'm done." After flushing, I went to wash my hands. As I did that, I looked at the test. She bought the idiot-proof one—the digital kind.
"What am I going to do . . ." She went on and on, and I let her talk.
But the test was negative. And if she didn't have a positive result by now, she definitely wouldn't have one down the line.
Right there in the small window, it said, "Not Pregnant."
Maybe I was an asshole, but I thought about telling her it was positive while I hid it from sight. That would be me scaring her straight. Although once she's at college and with Gio—who is so much more mature than she is—and she's back on the pill, I doubt she'll have this problem for a while.
". . . and if I kept it, I'd get fat, and I already gained seven pounds since graduation," she cried.
"That'd be the least of your problems." I nodded. "Forget about the tiny human who'd rely on you for everything. Your life, what you wanted to do, would be over . . . but yeah, you'd gain some weight . . . Mom is pretty thin, though. She's had three kids."
"She's a work-out freak! She has to exercise to look like that." Kylie snapped, and she was so PMSing. In fact, I remember Dad making a comment about Mom and my sister. Their cycles were practically synced. Either way, I'd hate to be him this week, next week, whenever it's Mom's turn. I don't know.
"Alex had twins and she—" My stomach didn't knot up when she came to mind. That must be a good thing.
"She's just a freak of nature, lost all that weight fast. Then again, I remember her being terrified that Unc would cheat because she was fat. Fear can be a powerful tool, something to push you and make you work for the result you want," she sighed, and I just stared at her. My sister talks all this nonsense, but amongst all the garbage . . . sometimes this profound shit comes out.
"Our uncle's an asshole."
"Oh, please. The way they paw at each other...? He'd never do anything like that. Is it ready yet?"
I stood back as there was a knock at the door.
"Be right out." I handed her the test.
Kylie blew out a slow breath. "Moment of truth." She had her eyes clamped closed.
I smiled, placing it a few inches from her face. "Open your eyes, Ky."
She did, to look at me, and I made the test dance.
When she finally saw it, she snatched it from my hands. "I'm not pregnant!"
"But you should still go see a doctor—"
"I'm not pregnant!" she shouted and hopped up to hug me. "But then why have I gained weight?"
"Your shitty eating habits are catching up to you," I laughed, setting her down. "Honestly...you don't look any different. Don't go worrying about your weight now." These women with the battle of the bulge . . . I just can't stand all that talk, because none of them are overweight to begin with. They're healthy at best, and go bat-shit crazy over a pound.
"Gio said he liked the way I looked," she mused.
"Well, if Gio said . . ." I groaned. "Let's go." I threw the test and its box into the trash.
When we got back to my room, Kylie danced around and kept squealing.
I sighed, staring down at my bed and wanting to sleep some more. "Should I even bother?"
"Huh?" She was crunking and getting low. "Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh." Now it looked like the chicken dance.
"Stop," I said. "Please stop doing that." My sister had no rhythm at all.
Thankfully, she ceased all movement and pushed her hair out of her face. "Come back with me now instead of later. It's not like I'm going anywhere." She sat on my bed. "We can watch TV all day and eat crap." She was giddy to eat crap now. "Or…we can hang out here. Do you guys play beer pong and Twister—"
"No..."
"Panty raids?"
"What the fuck do you think college is about? You've seen too many movies. Even in undergrad . . . sure, there are parties, but I slept and studied most of the time, like many others. You're exhausted all the time," I laughed. "Besides, this building actually holds the older crowd."
"So then come back with me." She pulled on my arm. "Sonny never comes over anymore. He's already turned into a pod person."
"He's busy." I scrubbed my face with my hand, my eyes feeling dry.
"We can watch whatever you want…?" She smiled and was in my face now. "I can say I missed you and came to get you last minute…Mom wanted me to go to church with her, but I lied and said Nancy couldn't open the salon."
I nodded, pushing her out of my face, since those plans sounded better than anything else I had going on. "Let me shower—"
"Do it at home. You have clothes and everything there," she said.
"Yeah," I agreed, reaching for a pair of jeans. Then I took my phone out of the same pair before I put them on. I forgot to plug it in to charge, and I had a missed call.
Julie . . .
"What's wrong?" Kylie asked.
"Nothing." I threw my phone on the bed and hopped into the pants.
Of course, my sister had to check my phone. "Julie called you?"
"She's been calling." I had no clean socks. I grabbed a laundry bag to throw my dirty stuff into it. "Take the sheets off my bed."
Kylie jumped up. "I'm not touching them with my hands." She wiggled her manicured fingers.
I didn't comment, reaching around her to throw my bedding into the bag. Mom could do my laundry since I'll be there early.
"Well, what's going on? I thought you were with Amelia? And don't even get me started on Maggie . . . She keeps sneaking into the backyard to see if you're there. Dad said she better watch it or she might get shot—whatever that means. Hey…maybe we could hang out? Maybe Maggie's not too bad. I mean, if you liked her..." Kylie tapped her chin.
I groaned. "Stay away from Maggie."
"Why?" Now she sounded intrigued.
"Because I asked you to?" My smile was condescending. "It's best she stays away from me...the family, you." I threw a dirty sock at her.
She slapped it away. "Do you actually like Maggie? You miss her or something?" She was teasing me again.
I shook my head no as I hoped she'd shut the fuck up.
"Then why do you care about—"
"Look, I don't care. Do what you want," I grumbled under my breath, hating that she brought Maggie up. Why do I have to be reminded of her all the time? My family can never let shit go. "Hang out with her or don't, but keep her away from Amelia and me."
Kylie giggled. "She's harmless. She's not going to do anything—"
"I know she won't..." And I'd already said too much. That night, I knew I connected with Maggie. But then, I thought she hated me. Even if I wasn't gone for Amelia at the time—when Maggie approached me the night I clipped Joe—I knew I was doing the right thing. She's young, and my intentions were no good—not good for her. She made the right decision when she told me to have a nice life. Maggie has a heart of gold, she's innocent, and she deserves a lot better.
But now she's sneaking into the yard, trying to seek me out?
That made no sense, although I'm relieved she doesn't hate me.
Now, I just don't want to see her; afraid . . . Well, I don't know what I'm afraid of. I didn't want to see her at all; terrified that it might inadvertently screw up what I have with Amelia.
These fucking broads, man!
Maybe I don't have enough faith in myself. Maybe I don't give myself enough credit. I'm not an animal. I have self-control, and I bet seeing Maggie doesn't do shit for me anymore. I'm blinded by all things Amelia any-fucking-way.
"Damion . . . What's up with Julie?" My phone was vibrating in Kylie's hand—"Julie" flashing.
Ceasing my movements, I just stood there. She's called me quite a few times, and I want to sever all ties with her so badly. I just haven't had the opportunity. As soon as I pick up that phone, she'll want to meet up, yet all my free time has been spent with Amelia.
"What about Amelia?"
I laughed then. "Why are you so nosy?"
"I have no life, remember?" She leaned back on the bed, and then shot up. "Yuck!" She stuck her finger in her mouth to gag. "God knows where the mattress has even been."
"Bet it's cleaner than Joe's dick."
She gasped.
I shrugged, putting my boots on and grabbing my keys. Then I put on my leather jacket and slung my laundry bag over my shoulder. "You ready?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?" She went hand me my glasses. "And you're such a pig. At least brush your teeth."
"You disrupted my sleep, my morning routine, and what might have been a fuckhot quickie before Amelia had to leave . . ."
"So, it's just sex with you guys?"
"No…it's not just anything. I don't know." I scratched my brow. "I guess you can say we're friends who fuck."
"Here." She held out my glasses. "You were being a real dick before she left, regardless of what you guys are."
I put my glasses on my chest of drawers. "I fell asleep wearing my contacts last night." Being reminded of that small fact, I grabbed the solution and my small case to shove in my pockets. "And I have a toothbrush at home. I can go twenty more minutes without, unless you find it horribly offensive." I was sarcastic.
"No. It's cool. I just thought I'd remind you." She didn't get it and walked out past me. "But here." She handed me some gum, and I was quick to put it in my mouth. "You should totally call Julie and get the ring back. I mean . . . I don't know." She rambled as I shut the door. "If you don't want it, give it to me—I'll keep it, but don't let her keep it. I'd wear it on my right hand, or go to the jewelry store and make myself a necklace . . ." And on and on she went as we continued to walk down the corridor.
I stopped her when she said something that I found interesting. "What about Mom and Amelia?"
"Mom was going to church when I left, and then she was meeting Amelia and her stepmom for brunch."
"Oh . . ."
"If you go, I'll go…?"
"Go where?" I asked.
"To brunch…it's usually boring…snore." She chuckled.
"I'm going to guess it's just for you ladies." It'd be nice to see Amelia again so soon, though.
I smiled to myself.
"Whatever." Kylie slid into the backseat. "Come on, get in."
"In a minute." I lit a cigarette instead. Knowing Vito's rules—no smoking in the car—I was content to stand outside.
"You—nobody ever told me what happened between you and Julie. I only know you guys broke up, and the last time I saw you, you were up Amelia's butt," she giggled but was quick to compose herself. "Have you ever done that?" she whispered. "Butt sex?"
I grinned at my sister, who seems to be as random as I am, only she's vocal about it. "Yeah . . . a few times."
"Really? With who?"
"Julie." I pulled from my smoke.
"Wow . . . Did she like it? How did you—did you just wake up one day and say 'I'm gonna fuck Julie's ass'?" She covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, Vito."
He waved.
I leaned my hand on the roof of the car. "When you're with someone for years . . . you experiment, try to liven shit up—I dunno."
"But it feels good? Tell me." I never saw someone as excited about the concept of anal sex as I usually am.
"It—I don't think we should be discussing this." Kylie was still my baby sister. "You don't find this conversation weird?" Even if she was who she was, I actually didn't feel uncomfortable talking about it with her. It is what it is. It's better she learn from me than whatever bullshit Gio or some other fucker might push on her.
"No . . . not weird at all. Tell me about Amelia then." She smiled up at me. "At least tell me if she's just warming your bed until Julie wants you back…Is that what it is? You've been with Julie for as long as I can remember."
"I—"
She never gave me a chance to respond. "Can I have a cigarette?"
"No. What are you on fucking speed? Did'ju do some meth with Vito on the way over? Yakkity-fucking-yak." I tossed the cigarette into the street, leaving to put my bag in the trunk. When I slammed it closed, I went for the front.
"I don't do drugs!" Kylie shouted.
"For now," I whispered, knowing one day she might try them.
But was I doing what she said? My feelings—no matter what they are—always have a tendency to wane when it gets boring. I've dated others while Julie and I have been on breaks—had sex with others . . . one other chick, actually, and I didn't even know her. She'd fucked Sonny before me, and we're nasty, and I was just taking my turn. I lie about my prowess, so I'm not teased or ridiculed by my brother.
I'm horny as fuck all the time. But overall, sex has just never been terribly vital. Even Anthony, although he's young, he's slept with a few chicks, trying to be straight, and it just never worked out. God knows what he thought about to be able to go through with it, but at least he could.
The point is: I know there are plenty of fish in the sea. I just always go back to Julie. Yet, I equate being with her to that of a gay man having to screw a woman?
This time . . . I didn't want to go back to Julie. Amelia is amazing. True, we don't talk that much—we're always fucking when we see each other, we don't talk on the phone. We only text.
I have so much to gain by continuing with Amelia, and I really want to.
And I wanted to hate Kylie for making me think of Julie when I hadn't in so long. That one weekend, I just had so much on my mind. The weeks that have passed, it's been all about Amelia.
That was when I did a double take of the sidewalk. Julie was battling the October wind, wearing a green wraparound sweater. Her long brown hair was a mess, being blown away from her, and she wore formfitting jeans—my favorites. She says they're stretchy or whatever. All I know is they make her large bubble ass look fantastic.
Convenient, I thought.
Just my luck, I thought.
And then I was actually glad Amelia hit the bricks when she did.
My brother is an asshole and can't see the beauty in anything. Julie might be overweight from a medical standpoint, but she's beautiful. I've always loved her full figure and her face—Christ. Her face is breathtaking. Yet, she likes to hide behind her black, plastic framed glasses.
Despite what my eyes think, I knew she made the right decision—to break things off. The love I always had for her was still inside of me somewhere, right? Again, I was never in love with her. I still know that, no matter how caught off guard I am by her presence.
"Dame . . ."
"Um." I swallowed, watching Julie run up the steps to my building. She hadn't seen me. "Give me a second." My cell buzzed in my pocket as Julie stared at the entrance and placed her own phone to her ear.
Then I watched her face crumble . . . because I didn't answer.
She was still staring at the entrance and now crying . . . because of me.
"Damion!" Kylie left the car to stare at me. "What's your reluctance to get in the damn car?"
Julie heard her and turned to face me, but she didn't do anything.
"Give me a second," I told Kylie again. Then I left the car to go to Julie.
Feeling awkward, I placed my hands in my pockets.
Despite everything I thought, it was as though I was approaching a stranger. Things were just different.
"Hey . . ." She wiped her eyes.
I gave her a head nod.
"You look different." She folded her arms across her chest.
I shrugged my shoulders, staring at my feet.
"You're not wearing glasses . . ."
My eyes went to her hands, but she was covering them. I wanted to see if she was still wearing the ring.
"I thought we could talk . . . but if you're busy—I just—You weren't answering your phone. I've been trying to reach you for a while. I couldn't last any longer without seeing you."
I no longer see her on campus since she got a real job. She graduated three years ago with a bachelor's in business management. Meanwhile, she works a clerical job for an insurance company. She's been living back with her parents in Brooklyn. We were going to get an apartment close to campus. But I decided against it—deciding I spent too much time on campus to . . . not be on it.
It made sense.
And I thought it'd help me focus.
And the strain . . .
She pushed for the apartment because we'd at least see each other in passing.
And I could have tried harder to see her, make time.
The need to do so just wasn't there.
"Um . . . I don't want this." She undid her self-hug to take off the ring. She was still wearing it. "I'm pathetic . . . just take it." She started crying again, holding the ring out. "Don't you have anything to say to me? After all these years—"
I stared at her outstretched palm and the ring—at a total fucking loss.
"You're not even going to speak to me?"
"Pawn it and buy some shit," I blurted.
"Damion, please . . ."
I shook my head no. "Then throw it in the garbage—"
"Like hell!" Kylie shouted. "Give it to me!"
"Get in the car!" I snapped, hollering back to her. She was practically hanging out the window of the backseat so she could hear us.
"Wow." Julie cracked a smile through her tears. "I don't think I've ever heard you yell before . . . except once in a while when we'd get carried away. When we were . . ." Now she was sobbing. "I miss you."
I tried to be sympathetic. "Don't cry."
"I'm sorry I accused you. I just—where do you sneak off to? And you didn't answer my calls . . ."
Rather than tell her I'd moved on, I racked my brain for an excuse. "You offered to give my brother a blow job," I said.
"What?" she screamed. "When did I—"
"Last Easter…?" I raised a brow.
"No!" she shouted. "Number one, I'd never do that to you . . . I—I love you, and I always have. Your brother skeeves me out." She snorted, shaking her head. "Take me to him . . . I don't remember. Us aside, I'd like to clear my name." She nodded. "I'd like to confront him, and you can be there."
I shrugged. "If you say you didn't—"
"No." She picked up her phone. "What's his number? I want to know when I offered to blow him."
I pushed her phone down. "We had a multitude of problems . . . We're always breaking up, just to get back together. I'm always busy. And I'm always going to be busy, at least until residency is over."
"You're worth the wait." She tried to hold my hand.
I barely let her touch me and backed up a step. "I never cheated on you. Just know that . . . and that I—"
"What?" she asked, the tears still streaming.
"Just forget it." I put my hands up.
It was time for a change.
Maybe this chance meeting could be the closure we both needed.
Maybe it was time to say a final goodbye. Although I briefly thought about being a nice guy, just in case Amelia didn't work out.
"Damion . . ." She gritted her teeth, clamping her eyes closed. "Please."
I didn't say anything since I wasn't sure what to say.
"At least let me confront your brother," she sobbed.
"Stop crying. And no—"
"No . . . I mean, I can't." She covered her face.
"Just go home—"
"I can't believe he would say that. I barely remember last Easter." She hugged herself. "I just, I know you." She fisted my shirt, and I looked down to her hand. "You trust your brother . . . I thought you trusted me, too, but I know you'll believe him over me. I didn't do anything wrong. I never did that, but if you did . . . something, I can forgive you. I don't even want to know about it."
"I haven't . . . You want the truth?" I asked. "I never cheated on you, but . . . I met someone."
Julie held her chest, about to break down, or have a break down. I didn't know, but I searched my pockets. "Do you have a tissue?"
She didn't answer me, just kept crying.
I sighed, looking out to the street. "Maybe Vito has some in the car—"
"Catch!" Kylie shouted, continuing to throw the small box of Kleenex out to us.
"Thanks." I took one out to help Julie clean her face. She refused, kept shaking her head and wouldn't let me. "Look at me." Grasping her chin, I wiped the mascara and tears away. "You need to relax."
She stopped my hand, taking a step toward me. "What do you mean 'met someone'? Was it just sex, or…?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does!" she sobbed.
I shook my head. "It really doesn't. Just know that I met her after we broke up."
"Are we really done?"
I stepped back. "Yeah, it makes sense."
"Can we go see Sonny?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "I trust you didn't…offer to blow him, all right? But I met someone—I'm with someone, and that's all I'll say about it." I went to walk away again, but she stopped me.
"Tell me—talk to me. Who is she?"
I shrugged. "That's irrelevant and none of your fucking business." Honestly, I tried not to laugh at her. She was being ridiculous, making this spectacle of herself in front of my building and my sister—who's as fucking nosy as my parents. "Just go home." Placing my arm over her shoulders, I walked her down the steps. "You'll be okay. You'll meet someone better—"
"No!" She shot up to hug me tightly. "Just please—Damion, don't." Julie hiccupped, hanging off of me like some ornament.
I looked up to the sky, wondering if God was playing tricks on me, but then my eyes fell on Kylie. My sister wore a pout, looking at this sad scene.
Taking Julie by the biceps, I refused to meet her gaze as I pushed her away. "Stop embarrassing yourself."
"Since when are you this cold?"
I didn't answer her because I didn't have a response. I thought the love I had for her was hidden somewhere inside me, but . . .
Whatever connection we had was gone. When we were together, it'd give me a twinge of something to see her in tears. Yet in this moment, her cries and pleas were comical at best—her giving a fuck when she hadn't before. It's her fear of being alone. I wasn't stupid enough to think that it was actually because of me.
She swallowed, stepping back. "I know you…It's serious with this person—whoever?"
"I don't know yet."
Julie shook her head. "She'll never love you like I do—as much. She'll never—"
Aggravated, I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I have to go." My words were slow, so she'd know the meaning. "Take care of yourself." Tired of the bullshit, I walked toward the car.
"Damion—"
"Go home!" I pointed away from myself. "You did this. I didn't."
"What?"
Frustrated, having all the things I ever wanted to say to her on the tip of my tongue, I whipped around to face her. All the times she actually did break my heart, all the times I never said a word . . . the back, the forth, the this, the that, the fucking whining, and the crying.
"It's your fault. Had you kept your fucking mouth shut, had you not been so fucking nosy, we'd be...we'd still be together. You did this. You broke up with me. You didn't want me. For that? Fuck off." Feeling pleased, I went for the car again.
I was always her quiet little boyfriend, and I always followed her lead.
Fuck that.
I'm twenty four years old.
I'm a man, who the fuck was Julie to keep tossing me back and forth like this?
Why did I let her do that for so long?
But most of all, I was disappointed in myself—always having been this . . . shadow of a man, never opening my mouth because I didn't think anyone would give a shit about what I had to say.
And it's not like I cared . . .
Only now, I am tired of sitting back and watching my life pass by—without me saying a word, or seeking better because I'm willing to accept less than, content with what life had brought me.
The past is the past, and I was moving on.
"You'll be sorry!"
I felt something hit my back, but I refused to turn around.
"Oh, no you didn't!" Kylie shouted, leaping out of the car.
I stopped her, thinking she might be going for Julie. Yet, when I turned around, I saw Julie walking speedily down the block. She was never a fighter, always quick with a quip and then running away.
"Where is it?" My sister was frantic. "That bitch . . ." She searched the sidewalk.
"What?" I held my forehead, wishing I'd never gotten out of bed.
Kylie ran and then picked something up off the ground. "I got it!" She waved the engagement ring in the air victoriously. "Finders keepers." She turned to see where Julie had gone. "She's so stupid. A guy gives you a ring like this, you keep it. Right?" she asked me.
"Just get in the fucking car!" I pointed to it.
Kylie's eyes widened. "Geez." Without any more fanfare, she entered the backseat.
I followed, slamming the door shut after me. "We can go," I told Vito.
"Don't be rude." Kylie hit me.
I didn't say a word.
My sister poked my side.
"Stop." I slapped her hand away, staring out the window. Julie was still walking and crying, and I was fast to avert my gaze.
"That was cold, bro—really sad," Kylie whispered. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, and I really was fine.
"So . . ." I felt Kylie's eyes on me, and I think everyone in my family has a staring problem. "Damion . . .?"
I sighed, leaning back. "Can't you be quiet for five-fucking-minutes?"
"Hey!" Vito shouted. "That's enough outta you—being all nasty and shit to your baby sister. You don't talk to her like that. You hear me, kid? . . . And I'll be having a chat with your father."
I grinned, turning to Kylie. "Whenever you decide to let Gio fuck your ass, make sure he goes slow, and he uses a lot of lube—"
"What'd I say?" Vito was about to have a heart attack.
My sister ignored him, turning to face me. "Fingers first, right? That's what Natalie told me—it's gotta stretch before you just, you know, fuck it," she giggled.
Vito banged on the steering wheel.
I nodded. "Fuck the pill or condoms. Your best defense against pregnancy is taking it up the ass or swallowing." I laughed, looking out the window again, but then I turned right back to her while Vito shouted some more nonsense. "Seriously, though…get yourself checked out—make an appointment with your doctor."
.
.
.
.
.
/=/=/=/=/
BELLA
/=/=/=/=/
After Kylie left, I enjoyed a steaming hot cup of coffee. I even sat outside on the porch because it was so warm, as warm as sixty degrees is. Alas, today was likely one of the last nice days before the bitter cold set in.
"Morning." Edward poked his head out, squinting and looking a mess—tired and yet sexy as hell.
"Hey."
"Come inside." He looked around before he went back in.
I smiled, following after him. "You're up early."
He yawned, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard. "Yeah…"
"Wanna come to—"
"I'm not going to church." He cut me off. "I give them enough money."
"Enough not to feel guilty?" I giggled, going to sit at the table.
"Guilty?" he laughed, fixing his coffee. "The fuck I gotta feel guilty for?"
I shrugged, not commenting.
"Where's Kylie?" he asked. "Vito left me a message…I haven't checked it yet."
"Thank you," I said. I've asked him to tone it down a bit, to have more faith in our daughter. "She's at the salon."
He made a noncommittal sound, joining me at the table. "You coming home after church?"
"I'm going to brunch with Elena and the girls, and then I thought I might do some shopping…We can order out tonight, right?"
"Takeout, for Sunday dinner?" He didn't sound happy. "What are you shopping for anyway?"
I bit my lips together, hoping to evade the question. I've been holding out, fiending like some addict to buy a whole bunch of baby shit for my future grandchild. Edward thinks I'm ridiculous. Sonny wants me to tread lightly—something about Katie being uncomfortable when it comes to all our money, which is total bullshit. I reserve the right to spoil my grandchild.
"We talked about this," he said, taking my hand into his own. "Sonny asked us—"
"And it's horseshit!" I shouted. "Fucking Katie with her garbage issues…She doesn't want her kid wearing clothes that 'supposed' blood money bought. How the fuck does she think she came to have clothes on her back, went to college—she was practically born with a silver spoon in that fucking loud mouth of hers!" I ranted.
My husband stared at me.
"I'm just saying." I shrugged. "Our money is just as green as anyone else's. Fuck it."
"Just don't go crazy…Don't go spending—"
"It's not even about the money," I grumbled. "I haven't seen Sonny in so long—Katie either, and they're four blocks away. They're going to keep that kid from us. Watch…it'll happen." And I tried to keep the tears at bay. "Katie's coming to lunch, but only after I hunted her down. She kept avoiding my calls."
"Shhh." Edward pulled me to sit in his lap. "They won't keep the baby away. I promise." He kissed my temple. "I told Sonny to stop by, but…shit just kept coming up. I don't know."
Suddenly heartbroken, I nuzzled my face into his neck, holding onto him tightly. "They're even talking about getting a house in Westchester."
Edward chuckled, pushing my hair away from my face. "Katie's trying to sell that idea, but Sonny loves this neighborhood. At least he's set on passing the bar now, right?"
I nodded, sniffling. "I guess so . . . but now you have to run the club again. You won't be around—"
"Hey." He held my cheeks, making me look at him. "I have plans…and they don't include our children or an infant." He nibbled on my nose. "Maybe I'll go back to the club for a bit, but you and me…After Kylie leaves for Texas, we're going on vacations. Two weeks at a time, we'll go all over. You and me, baby."
I grinned. "Really?"
He nodded. "It's been a long time since it's just been us. And everyone will still be here when we get back." He rocked us. "Don't worry about Katie . . . Do you really think Sonny would let her keep the baby away?"
"I don't know," I sighed, blowing out a breath, reaching to wipe my eyes. "Things are just changing . . . and then there's Damion."
He squeezed me. "And you're doing everything you can to make sure he settles, aren't you?"
"Not settle . . . I'm just helping Amelia."
He looked confused. "How are you helping Amelia?"
"I just tell her things . . . about how not to smother him. If she comes on too strong, he might back off. You know?"
"That whole . . . be unavailable so he wants me more shit?" He smiled.
I nodded. "Yeah, you get it."
He shook his head. "That doesn't really work. If she's not attainable, he might say fuck it and seek someone who is." He hugged me tightly to him. "Don't get upset because of what I'm about to say . . . You introduced them, and now you should back off. Let them do their thing."
"I'm not upset." I knew he was correct. "I just want Amelia as my daughter-in-law. She'd never keep any babies away from me." And I was crying again.
"Katie won't do that either," he whispered. "I promise." His hands went to my hips, rubbing up and down the outside of my thighs. "You need to stop crying . . . Let me hit it real quick—give you something to smile about at church."
I giggled, shaking my head no. "Thanks for the laugh. I needed it."
"When did I say something funny?" He looked pissed now.
"Stop." I left his lap. "The way you said it made it funny—that's all." Grasping my purse from the counter, I looked inside to make sure I had everything. Sadly, my phone had a text from—not Katie—but Sonny.
Katie isn't feeling well and can't make it. "See?" I held up my phone to show Edward. "And she can't even call…"
He didn't seem to care.
I scoffed at nothing, going for the door. Fuck church. I was going to Sonny's house—demand to know what Katie's beef was.
"You're just going to leave—leave me here?"
My eyes widened. "I didn't know I had to entertain you."
He looked around himself. "Tit for tat. I made you feel better . . ."
"So, now I owe you sex?"
"Seems fitting." He shrugged. "Just—right up here." He patted the table. "You're wearing a dress."
I couldn't help myself and grinned. "I'm thinking about stopping by Sonny's—"
"Can of worms, Bebella . . . can of worms."
I spoke over him. "I'll have just enough time before I meet Elena—she's meeting me at Saint Anselm's." The doorbell rang, and I was literally saved by the bell.
"Oh!" Edward shouted. "Who the fuck is this now?"
"I don't know." I put my bag down to go for the door, but Edward shot up.
He entered the foyer, staring out the small window, as I slowly followed after him.
"Jehovahs?" I whispered, ready hide.
We're Italian. We don't do witnesses.
Silently, I snickered at my own stupid joke.
Edward shook his head. "It's Elena and Amelia."
"I said I'd meet them at—" I stopped talking when he opened the door. "Hey!"
"Good morning." Edward was all smiles, holding the door open for them.
"Morning." Elena looked very put together in a black pantsuit.
"Hi." Amelia waved, looking like absolute shit, like she just rolled out of bed. It was weird. She wasn't dressed for church at all.
"Sorry for stopping by like this—I know we'll be late." Elena pushed a bag into Amelia's arms. "Go change."
Amelia smiled as she walked up the stairs and past all of us. "Morning, Mrs. Cullen."
"Hello…" I stood there awkwardly, watching her go down the hall.
"Everything okay?" Edward asked Elena. "It seems the world has problems."
"Um." Elena couldn't think up a response for that one.
"But no one cares about my problems." Edward stomped up the steps. "Or my needs," he said in my face.
I turned to smack his back.
He chuckled, knowing he was being an ass, going into the kitchen.
"Did we come at a bad time?" Elena asked.
"No."
"Yes!" Edward shouted from the kitchen.
"He's rude," I told her.
She waved a hand. "Luke, too—nothing new." Then her face broke out into this bright smile. "Sorry for—Amelia needed to change and wash up. She, uh, she spent the night in the city—with Damion."
"No!" I gasped.
"Yes." Elena squealed.
"EEEEEE!" I grabbed her hands as we jumped up and down. "They're having sex?"
She nodded. "It would appear so."
"YES!" I fist pumped the air. "Get it, baby boy!"
"I know, right?" Elena stuck her tongue out.
"What has she said, not about the sex, but…?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing. She had a good time…she seems a bit down, though."
"Why?" My smile disappeared. "Did something happen or…?"
"I don't know."
I sighed, gesturing for her to come upstairs. "Do you want some coffee?"
"Sure." She followed me into the kitchen, which made Edward leave his chair.
"I'll leave you ladies to it . . . I guess you're not going to church."
"Oh." I looked to Elena.
"You should tell Amelia she can take a shower if she wants." Edward left the kitchen. His advice, though helpful, was totally fucking random.
"Thanks, baby." I waved to his back, turning to my friend. "She can if she wants. After a night of fucking…"
Elena giggled. "Yeah . . . I'll go tell her."
My smile was back in place as I fixed her coffee.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think Damion and Amelia would hit it off as well as they have. I knew I wanted Amelia as a part of the family. Not to mention how great a union between New York and New Jersey would be. There's no pressure, either. While I may be coaching Amelia on ways to get into Dame's heart, she wants in—she likes him, so she says, and I'm just being helpful. Plus, I'm not pushing my son, nor am I breaking his balls about it.
"She said thank you." Elena was back.
I squealed again.
"I know!" She was just as happy.
Elena told me the sad story of Amelia's birth mother years ago. The woman just didn't want her—didn't want Luke, didn't want the lifestyle. Amelia's mother raised her until she was five, and then just handed all parental rights over to Luke. Elena plays the role of mom.
I could never understand those people—people like Amelia's biological mother. A few years ago, she contacted her daughter, but Amelia didn't want anything to do with her.
Elena and I continued to bullshit and talk about our kids while we looked at lunch menus. Edward was here and none of the kids were, so I felt bad leaving him to go eat with the girls. He'll leave on his own, hearing all the gossip, and veg in front of the TV—until they leave and I can fuck his brains out.
Kylie would be home around dinnertime, and I wasn't sure what Sonny and Damion were doing. Knowing Dame, he'll sleep the day away. Sonny said something last night about needing to take inventory at the club today. Since that ho-bag Lori quit, Sonny has to do more managerial things.
We settled on Chinese, and then Amelia joined us. I told her to help herself and she went straight for the coffee pot. "Stop staring at me."
Instead, Elena and I faced each other. "You gotta tell us something," she told Amelia.
She sighed, bringing her mug over to the table. Now she was put together in slacks and a three-quarter-length sleeve button down, total church attire. Her hair was wet, too, but she wasn't wearing makeup. Amelia still seemed down in the dumps about something, but now dressed nicely.
"Talk to us," I said, a pit in my stomach. It was like . . . I was yearning for the information, craving gossip.
Amelia looked to me. "Maybe you can make sense of it—"
I was fast to say, "Most likely." Damion is, after all, my son.
"We had an amazing—uh-maz-ing night—"
"It was that good, huh?" Elena was just as engrossed as I was.
Amelia gave her a short nod, wearing this wicked grin. "It always is—" Her eyes landed on me. "I mean—"
"Please, go on. Just—don't worry about it." I waved a hand. "Pretend I'm not his mom. Say whatever you want to. It doesn't leave this kitchen." My words were rushed, and I pushed that second cup of coffee away from myself. I was wired with the possibility of a juicy story.
"That's right." Elena grasped her hand. "We wives, and soon you might be one, we don't share with outsiders, or our husbands—not the relationship stuff that we talk about."
"He just," Amelia sipped her coffee, "he runs hot and cold."
"Oh." I slouched back in my chair, like it was old news, knowing where she was going now. Edward was the same way when we first got together—reel me in just to throw me back. It was exhausting.
"One minute, everything is fine—we're smiling, doing whatever. And the next . . . I say one wrong thing . . . and he shuts down, or he gets completely detached. It's tiring." She went for her cup again. "And he's so frustrating." She strangled the air. "It drives me crazy—he drives me nuts, but only because . . . while he's doing all this shit, I'm a pile of fucking goo. I accept the behavior because . . ."
"You have an overwhelming desire to please him?" Elena asked.
"In a way . . . but it's not exactly like that. It's more—it's okay, because I'm afraid of, of—"
"Losing him?" Elena finished.
I laughed, knowing my son wasn't going anywhere. He thinks he won the lottery, bagging Amelia. "I'm sorry. Go on."
"That's all. It's not even a month, and I'm head over heels." She sat up in the chair.
"It happens." Elena and I said in unison.
"You owe me a Coke." She gave me a fist pound.
I snorted. "Make that a rum and Coke and you got a deal."
Her eyes lit up. "What are you wearing to the Halloween party?"
"Um…I'm not sure yet. I was thinking of—since Edward hates wearing costumes—I thought we'd go as Bonnie and Clyde."
Elena gasped. "That'd be fucking adorable and hot, and . . . ironic in some way?"
I nodded. "But Edward is being Edward because Kylie wants to come with us. It's no big deal to me. I'd love it if she joined us. I don't know who's performing, but we'd all have a good time. We can close off the V.I.P. area, and I won't drink. But Edward says—because we're women and it's the one night a year we're allowed to dress slutty without a care—having Kylie and me with him . . . he knows he's going to have to shoot someone." I rolled my eyes. "What about you and Luke?"
"Oh, we're going as masquerade people. I have a gown. He has all his suits, and I bought eye masks. He's boring."
"Hello!" Amelia waved.
"I'm sorry, dear," Elena said.
I turned in my seat, giving them all my attention. "Tell us everything. We're sorry."
Amelia nodded. "Okay, so . . . it's what I said before, and . . . I kinda checked his phone while he was sleeping. Um—I know that's a wrong move, but I saw her name in his call log, over and over. He's not over his ex. Fucking Julie . . . Is it wrong that I wanna meet her? I mean, she was with him for years."
"You have nothing to worry about. He's so over her," I disagreed. "When you two are together . . . I can see it." I didn't want to come right out and spill the beans—tell her that I knew my son was in love with her. "Plus, Edward told me that Damion told him that Julie keeps calling. I know, for a fact, that Damion hasn't spoken—actually spoken—to her since they broke up. She's calling him, but he's not answering."
"Really?"
I nodded.
"Oh." She looked relieved. "We haven't spoken about being exclusive either—"
"Why does that have to be discussed?" Elena asked. "When I met your father, we dated . . . but he's bossy and just flat out said I was his woman." She shrugged.
"Things are different for each couple," I said. "Edward and I had that discussion. It ended with him threatening the life of anyone I potentially slept with while shit was up in the air . . . I said what's good for the goose . . . and we both came to an agreement."
"I don't even know how I'd broach the subject with Damion. We start talking and then . . . and then." Her eyes widened. "And then we're naked."
"Nice..." I nodded.
"Remember those days?" Elena scrunched her nose, smiling. "God. I miss that shit."
"It's not nice. I don't know what's up or down . . . Yet, I find myself bending over backwards to please him, like you said." She pointed to her mother. "He has this control, you know?" She faced me.
"Yeah, well. You're dating a Cullen." I didn't know what else to say—the hot, the cold, the control. "But," I smiled, grabbing her hand, "if he didn't give a shit, if he didn't feel for you, he wouldn't be acting that way." What Edward said came to mind, and it was like a light bulb flicked on. "When you try to distance yourself, is that when he gets pissy? Shuts down?"
She furrowed her brow. "Oh my God. Yes. I mean, if I could, I'd spend every waking moment with him. When we're not together, it's all about, 'how or when am I going to see him again'. But I'm trying really hard to give him space—as much as it…kind of hurts." She held her necklace, blowing out a breath. "I'm pathetic."
"Forget what I said," I whispered. "Just do what you feel is natural—what's good for you guys, yourself." I gestured to her.
I found it odd that Damion would get upset when she gave him space. My son is a very private person, and that's where most people go wrong with him. They're intrusive. And just like Edward, when someone is like that, Damion will distance himself.
However, I'm exempt from that with Edward. I can get as close, as naggy, as fucking—whatever I want. He loves me more than there are stars in the sky, and so I'm allowed.
My son was truly in love—confused—wants Amelia just as much as she wants him.
Only, Damion is probably afraid of getting hurt. He won't be the first to say it, and he will eventually pull away—he won't bother, he'll give up—unless Amelia throws herself at him. Not literally. I mean, metaphorically, she has to hand Damion her heart.
"I'm supposed to stay for dinner tonight. Damion invited me."
"He's coming?" I didn't even know.
"Yeah," she sighed, massaging her forehead. "I said we needed to talk, which we do, but he shot it down."
"Be honest. Talk to him, open yourself up." I became a giddy mess, wondering just long it would be until I was planning another wedding. "Tell him how you feel."
"I can't do that." She held her heart. "What if—"
"He loves you, too?" I raised a brow.
"What if he doesn't . . ." She gulped, covering her face with her hands to groan.
I puffed my cheeks, now an anxious mess. "You at least have to have the exclusivity chat."
"That's right," Elena said. "And maybe you could hint? Tell him how much you like him?"
"I guess so," she whispered, getting all quiet.
A silence loomed while I thought about how I could get her to open up, and Elena perused the Chinese takeout menu.
"Should I call Luke?" Elena asked. "We can hold off—eat when he gets here, and he'll keep Edward company?"
I bit my lip, unsure if Edward would want him here. "Lemme see if Edward has any plans." I looked to Amelia. "You have to tell him how you feel—not that you're in love exactly . . . Pry, tell him you don't want him seeing anyone else but you, spend as much time with him as you want to. He's not going to deny you—unless he's got shit to do with school. You know what I mean. I was wrong to tell you to . . . keep your distance, so to speak. You guys have to do what's good for Damion and Amelia. Right?"
She nodded.
"I'll be right back." I left the table to seek out my husband. It's nothing against Luke; I just know Edward likes to limit his contact with certain people. Luke might be one of them, regardless of anything going on with our kids.
"Hey."
Edward was in his office, sitting in his chair and staring out the window. "It's nice today." He pointed.
"It is." I closed the door after myself. "We're gonna order Chinese for lunch."
"Get fried dumplings."
"Sure," I giggled. "But…Elena wanted to know if she could invite Luke."
Edward shrugged. "I don't give a fuck."
"Okay, cool. Sorry for disturbing."
"I'm taking the week off," he said. "Fuck this—fuck everyone's problems." He stood from his desk. "Shit isn't going to fall apart if I'm not around for a week."
"It's not," I agreed.
Edward pulled me into his arms. "You and me—a few days away?" He pecked my nose.
I was surprised. "Definitely."
"Where should we go?"
I hopped to nip his lips. "I don't give a flying fuck—just get me outta here, Skip." Since they went away, I was jealous of Alex and Carlisle. True, we have more privacy than they do on a daily basis, but Edward and I never go anywhere. At least she gets a vacation every once and a while.
And a few days away, where Edward could ravish me over and over, and no one can hear me scream . . . Heaven.
Booze, getting drunk without a care. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, taking walks, there's sure to be a Jacuzzi, and . . . just us.
He chuckled, softly kissing my lips. "How 'bout, one day, we just get in the car and drive?"
"Sounds good." I loved this playful, carefree side of Edward that I hardly see.
"Kylie can stay with Carlisle and Alex, or Sonny."
I nodded, deciding not to throw out the idea of her staying alone. It wouldn't be about wild parties, or wild sex—Gio's in Texas—it's about her safety. "We'll let her decide."
Edward whacked my ass, grunting and giving it a squeeze. "I should go get dressed."
"You should," I agreed, looking down to his flannel PJ pants as we heard a car pull up outside.
"Who else is here now?" Edward left me to go to the window. "Dame and Kylie are here."
"They are!" I was excited again. "Wait…why would they show up together?"
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"Guess not, but who's at the salon?" It was rude to just abruptly leave Edward's office like I did.
Since I didn't know who was scheduled, or if my daughter just didn't feel like opening today, I went to seek answers.
"Who's at the salon?" I asked Kylie.
She was skipping up the walkway, holding onto Dame's arm. "Nancy."
"I thought she couldn't work today."
"She changed her mind." My daughter was lying to me about something—I felt it. "I missed Dame. I went to pick him up."
"'Sup, Mom?" Damion kissed my cheek, walking around me to get into the house with his bag of laundry. "Can you wash my clothes?"
"Put it in the garage." I turned back to Kylie. She went to follow Dame, but I stopped her. I'm not stupid. When something's wrong, Kylie runs to Damion. It's just what she does. If she's desperate, or has a major problem with us, she'll seek Sonny. Although he's usually in agreement with us—Kylie's judge and jury—Sonny comes to her defense. "Are you okay? What—"
"I'm more than okay—I'm fan-flippin'-tastic, Momma!" She slapped my ass, going into the house.
"But who's at the salon?"
"I told you—Nancy. I worked five days this week. Six days is too much—it already bores me to tears."
She was right, I had no cause to complain or call her lazy. I didn't even know she was working today until she told me this morning.
"Mrs. Cullen!" Vito shouted.
"Oh, shit," Kylie said from behind me, grabbing my elbow. "Vito is a liar. And he's old—might be demented."
"Huh?"
"Expecto Patronum!" Kylie shouted, and then laughed her ass off. "Get it? He's a Dementor?"
"Yeah, I got it." I shook my head.
"Just don't talk to him." My daughter pulled me into the house, closing the door on Vito.
"Kylie Marie!" I couldn't believe her. "What the hell?" It's one thing to goof around, but closing the door on the old man while he strolled up the walkway . . .
She scoffed. "I'll apologize . . . he's like a tail I can't shake. He's mad at me. Damion and me—we were being fresh, got on his nerves."
"Oh." I actually thought that was funny.
"I'll talk to him." She left the house and was fast to close the door after herself. I stared, hoping I could make their words out. But all I saw was Vito doing a lot of talking, waving a finger, while Kylie had her head down. I think she said, "Please don't tell my dad" and "We were only kidding around".
And the end result was a hug.
Kylie can bitch and moan all she wants, but I know she has a friendship with Vito. He is like a grandfather to her, and I know all about developing attachments where drivers are concerned. They're around all the time, look out for you, and Vito is old school—barely says a word. They have their little friendship, which is all kinds of cute.
We went wrong having Joe drive her that one time. Overall, although I don't like him, he's very handsome and I can see how he might be charming. Honestly, all he did was take her and Gio to prom. The rest? They bonded because Joe was around to drive Edward—us—he was Edward's bodyguard.
My husband always has one of his guys with him now, unless we're home and not going anywhere.
Kylie came back in wearing a smile.
"Awww," I teased. "I saw that hug."
Her eyes widened, like she was embarrassed. "So, what?"
"You have him wrapped around your finger."
She snorted. "He's like my pet—does whatever I say, takes me wherever. He threatens to tell Daddy everything, but in the end . . . he doesn't," she giggled. "But no. Vito's just…Vito."
"Yeah, okay." I knew she was full of shit. "Having an old, bald man as a pet…"
"Ugh. You make it sound like—ugh. He's like seventy." She shuddered.
I laughed at her. "I'm gonna tell Gio..."
"Oh my God!"
"Look at you . . . relax." It was still funny, but she wasn't laughing.
"Um…" Kylie stared at her feet for a second too long. "Can you make me an appointment—for Dr. Scott?" she whispered.
Suddenly alarmed, I got in her face. "Why? What's wrong?" I held her biceps.
"Nothing that I know of. Geez . . . If Joe fooled around with Carli, I mean. I don't know." She backed away.
"Smart move. I'll call first thing tomorrow, but . . . Honey, you can could have called, too. At the first suspicion or whatever—you keep telling us that you're a woman . . . As a woman, woman-up, take care of your shit." Maybe I could have sugarcoated that or had more finesse. "You can make your own appointments. If there's something wrong, if—"
"I think—know I'm okay," she said, and then stared up the stairs. We heard laughing coming from the kitchen. "Amelia is here?"
I nodded. "We're going to order in some lunch."
"Great. Just great!" She threw her hands up, which was such an Edward move.
I caught her before she ran away. "What's wrong now?"
"Me and Dame-y had plans, that's all."
"And you guys can still fart around the house . . ." I didn't see a problem. "I thought you liked Amelia." I brought my voice down.
"I do. I like her a lot. It's just . . ." She pursed her lips. "Can I hang out with you and Elena? I don't wanna see Amelia and Damion together," she whispered. "It's like—any couple. It makes me sad."
I touched her cheek, understanding. "Of course. We'll even talk about sex…just for you." I poked her nose. "Come here, pervert baby." I pulled her into my arms for a hug. "Same rules still apply. I want you to be more responsible...get used to doing things yourself." I squeezed her as tightly as I could. "But you, you can talk to me—not Damion—me about anything. I know you guys are close, but he's not your mom. I know things." I smiled.
"Don't be sweet. You'll make me cry."
I laughed and rubbed my mush's back. "You're a pervert-baby-mush." I blew a raspberry into her neck.
"Just don't talk about you and Dad—that'd be gross."
"Tee-hee," I giggled, remembering what she told me she said to her father. "We're sexual beings—"
"Ugh!" After that loud groan, she left the foyer.
"Very much so!" I shouted after her.
She put her fingers in her ears, entering her bedroom.
Thank you for reading.
Please leave me your thoughts. See you Wednesday . . . I'll try my best to hold off on updating until then.
It's hard. LOL.
Next up: Sonny POV
Have a wonderful weekend!