A/N: Flanny and the Freak want to apologize for being so fail on review replies. We read every review on both accounts, but crazy schedules, FFn douchebaggery, and Flanny's general flakiness has made us miss at least half of the replies. Forgive us? We have pudding! Big love to Jaspersdestiny & Perrymaxwell for their beta services, and to Twilover for pre-reading. This is the second last chapter...
Title: Another Man's Pudding
Bella POV
My face felt like it was stuck to the pillow. I struggled to peel it away from the pillowcase, not wanting to think about what had glued it there in the first place. It could be any one of a plethora of foodstuffs.
Last night when I'd gotten home from work, I'd hooked up with the only two men who'd never failed me: Ben and Jerry. But even their sweet ambrosia failed to balm my soul, so I headed south of the border to suck on my Latin lover, Jose Cuervo. That man always did know how to bring my misery to orgasm.
Jose succeeded, and sweet oblivion found me for seven hours or so . . . until I woke up to a pounding in my head that felt something akin to Michael Flatley lord-of-the-dancing inside my skull.
Suffice it to say, this morning was off to a stellar start.
I threw on a ratty t-shirt and boy shorts and opened my laptop. I'd be working from home today.
-PUDDING-
"I'm sorry, Rose," I whispered into my phone two days later. "I'm still really sick. Just email me if you need anything, okay?"
I opened a Word document and glared at the flickering cursor. There was something I was supposed to write, but I seemed to have lost the ability to communicate.
I'm the fucking Director of Communications for the NYPD!
Irony was a cunting bitch.
-PUDDING-
Time seemed to move in slow motion as I spun on my computer chair, watching the seasons change on my generic outdoors-scene screen saver.
After going through my email and deleting Alice's message—subject line: DON'T DELETE—I checked my voicemail.
"Please, Bella?" Alice's plaintive whine besought through the receiver. "I'm so sorry! Edward is miserable... he made me swear not to bother you about this, but I can't do it! You guys are meant to be together. I'm having a vision about it of Dionne Warwick proportions. You have to come over so I can do your tea leaves, or at least talk to me—"
Message deleted. Goodbye.
-PUDDING-
"I'm drunk, Edward," I slurred into my cell phone. "I have no clue why I can't get over you. I'm trying — I'm trying so fucking hard — but I can't get you outta my head. That doesn't even make sense, right? I mean, we barely had two dates, and you were under a grossly false assemupshun... assmumption... you thought I was a ho. But I dunno, Edwaaaard. I dunno. Being with you... I don't even know. You made me feel something."
I burped delicately and poured another shot of Jose into my Koolaid mug. "You made me feel something in my hooha." I giggled like an idiot. "When little Edward—who is definitely not little—was up there."
I sounded asinine, which was ironic in that I couldn't pronounce it in my current state of inebriation.
"Fuck," I groaned, the weight of my skull drawing my head forward onto my chest. "You have no idea how long it's been since I allowed myself to feel hopeful. I guess this message makes no sense since you don't really know me all that well. Let's just say I'm sad. I've always had difficulty connecting with other people, but something about you—about us together—just fit. You fit with me. Even your cock fit perfectly for Christ's sake!"
I hit the pound key, realizing even in my drunken fugue that I was in the throes of stupidity.
To save your message, press seven. To delete your message, press eight.
Press eight, I screamed at myself. Do not press seven. Only bad things will happen if you press seven!
I should totally press seven. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna press seven.
Gravity became a funnel cloud, and my head spun as the numbers on the screen zoomed in and out of focus. I crawled onto the floor and rested my head on the ground. Just for a second until the spinning stops.
I made the only sane decision I could think of.
Message deleted. Goodbye.
-PUDDING-
"Answer your fucking door!" Rosalie screamed. Why was I paying this much rent for a building with a doorman again?
"Go away," I muttered, turning the volume up on the TV. Sasha Baron Cohen washed his face in a toilet bowl, and I wondered if his excess body hair was part of the character he portrayed or if he really was a hairy bastard.
"What the fuck are you doing in there?" Rosalie screeched in reply to my hysterical giggling.
"How did you get past the doorman?" I asked, ignoring her question.
"I gave him a blowjob," Rosalie screamed in reply. "He let me in and gave me twenty dollars."
"You're kidding." I opened the door and glared at her.
"Of course I'm kidding. Not all of us trade sex for favors." She grinned, brushing past me.
"Are you poking fun at me?"
"Yeah, 'lil bit. It's too easy. And you're way emo right now in a totally non-ironic way. What are you doing in there?" Her nose scrunched up, likely in disgust at the mountain of garbage beside the couch I'd been molesting in my irrational grief.
"Painting pictures of sad clowns and cutting myself." I slammed the door and turned away, launching myself back onto the war-torn sofa. It really was pretty gross.
"What are you really doing?" she demanded.
"Watching Borat."
"Huh."
"Rose..."
"Yeah?"
"Why are you dressed like a prostitute?"
"What? I'm not!"
Okay, so she wasn't exactly dressed like a ho, but her skirt was so tight it was trashy, and if her tits were a river, they'd be overflowing and flooding the townspeople. Wait, that didn't make sense. Was I still drunk?
"Turn around," I ordered, twirling my finger.
"I have a date! Come on, it's not like I dress like this every day."
"Very nice. How much?" I said with a Russian accent.
"Fuck off! Just get back to work, okay? You're being a melodramatic twat."
-PUDDING-
On a good morning, it took me about thirty-five minutes to get ready for work. Today was definitely not a good morning. Nonetheless, after hitting rock-bottom yesterday in the form of another drunken voicemail to Edward—one that I couldn't remember if I'd deleted or not—I decided it was time to put this version of myself to bed.
Everyone deals with depression differently—Picasso had his blue period, Van Gogh hacked his ear off, Hemingway killed himself—but I chose booze, chocolate, and self-pity. And now I was over it. Not over Edward, by any means, but over the self-indulgent pity party. It was time to put my big girl panties on and face the world.
"Oh my God, Bella!" Rosalie practically squealed when I walked into the precinct. She hugged me and sniffed my hair. "Are you better? You smell much better!"
"I'm fine." I waved my hand dismissively. "You know... took a few days to mope, but I'm ready to get back to normal." Not that I was ever exactly a poster girl for a sound mind, but at least I wasn't eating cookie dough and listening to Enya in the dark.
"You're not dressed like a whore." Rosalie grinned, patting me on the back.
"Neither are you," I countered. "Give any twenty-dollar BJs yet today?"
"Nope." She inspected her nails as if the topic of conversation was dull. "Still providing prostitution services to cops?"
"For sure!" I laughed. "My rates just went up, though, since I beat up another hooker for stealing my corner."
"Yeah, that one surprised the shit out of me. My money would've been on Tanya in that cat fight."
I kicked her shin, just as I heard—jeebus help me—my father clearing his throat.
"Bella?" He cocked his fuzzy eyebrow to the best of its ability.
"Uh, hi, Commissioner." I did my best to smile. "Officer Newton," I added, nodding at the new recruit to his flank. Michael Newton had scored the top grade of his group on his qualifying written test - the only reason I remembered his name. Other than his alleged intelligence, there didn't seem to be anything remarkable about him.
He reached forward to shake my hand; I clutched his sweaty palm reluctantly. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person, Bella. Commissioner Swan won't stop talking about you."
"Really?" I chewed on my nails. "Don't believe a thing they say about me on the beat. It's all lies!"
"You didn't beat up a hooker?" Newton grinned.
"Oh, that's totally true!"My eyes met my father's. "What's going on, Commissioner? Are you trying to set up a date for me or something?"
"I heard through the grapevine that you and Cullen aren't getting along so well, and Mike here is new in town..." He looked at his watch. "I thought he could use a tour guide."
"I don't mean to impose," Mike offered, sounding somewhat apologetic.
"No... I mean, it's not a bother. I just have so much work to catch up on."
"Rosalie can handle today's press statements," my father insisted, and I glowered.
"I suppose so." Rose bit her lip, and removed a compact from her purse, opening her mouth and applying mascara to her already thick lashes.
"She's preening," I explained, motioning for my Mike to follow me. "Shall we?"
"Absolutely!" He stepped ahead of me so he could hold the door open, and I afforded one last glance at my father.
"Have fun, kids," Dad said, using his patented lackadaisical, dry tone.
"Yeah, don't wait up," I teased, allowing Mike to take my hand. It was a sweet gesture; why did it make me want to gnaw on my wrist to free myself from his clutch?
Shaking my head, I tried to ignore the creeping weight of foreboding that settled in my gut. History had proven my instincts were all backward.
"So," Mike began, stroking my index finger in a manner that could only be described as suggestive. "I'm dying for a home cooked breakfast. Do you live around here?"
"Uh, no. And I don't really cook... like, at all." My hand felt hot and sweaty, but I was freezing. "There's a coffee shop nearby that I like. The food is decent."
"I have money... I'm not sure how much it'll be. Should I stop at a bank machine?" Mike pulled out his wallet, showing me a couple of twenties.
"That's plenty for breakfast. Besides, the coffee's on me."
Mike shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, beautiful."
EDWARD POV
"Why... did you call her, Alice?" I whined, almost incoherently into the phone when my sister informed me of her conversation with a certain sexy brunette earlier in the day. "I specifically asked you to do the opposite of call her."
I took in a deep breath of air and let it out in one long, exaggerated sigh, listening to Alice's excuses for butting into my love life—or, lack there of, I guess—once again. She meant well; I knew this, but things with Bella... well... although I was pretty certain they couldn't possibly get any worse, I didn't really want to take any chances by letting my sister try to make things "better".
When she got to the part about wanting to read Bella's tea leaves, I shut my eyes tight and pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Alice," I took another calming breath of air, "tell me you didn't offer to read Tarot cards for her."
"Well..."
She sounded a lot like Lucille Ball when she said it, and I suddenly wanted to throw in my own version of Ricky Riccardo for her, warning that she had a lot of 'splaining to do.
I wasn't in the mood, though, so instead, my hand flew up into the air, reflecting my frustration with a sibling that just did not know when the hell to remove her nose from my business. "Jesus, Alice."
"I'm sorry! I just think you two should be together."
"Well, you're gonna have to get over that, seeing as how there probably isn't a snowball's chance in Hades that it's gonna happen now."
Not that trying to get Bella out on date number three... or, one, depending on how you looked at it, hadn't crossed my mind, but I was trying to be good. Trying to stick to my word that I'd given her about not bothering her again.
It was killing me.
"No thanks to your brilliant undercover work, Inspector Gadget," Alice chided.
"Yes, Sister Sledge, thank you for once again, reminding me of my stupidity. What's it been, like an hour? I was getting worried you'd forgotten."
"Smart ass... Look, I'm sorry; I'm at a loss here."
"You and me both, sis... you and me both."
I ended on a strong note, promising to take her to the gun range over the weekend for some target practice and then declining her invitation to hit this new bar we'd both heard about not too far from home. She was convinced if I socialized more with women, that I'd eventually learn how to... you know, socialize with them without making a complete ass of myself.
Unfortunately for me, I'd already made an ass of myself with the one person who was important enough for me to not want to make an ass of myself... so the rest really didn't matter as far as I was concerned.
Still... talking to Alice had made me fall right back into the haze of Bella I'd only just begun to crawl out of... barely... and it made me want to see her... touch her... feel her in all the right places, again.
Shit.
If only mind control really existed and I could get close enough to permanently erase the past week from her memory.
-PUDDING-
Somehow that morning, I made it in to work. I managed to bullshit my way through the day, busying myself at my desk with paperwork that somehow kept me from interacting with anyone and everyone until it was time to go home.
When I threw my keys and phone down onto the coffee table, I noticed the small blinking signal on my cell that told me I had a voicemail waiting for me and I scowled.
I assumed it was simply another Alice message, giving me her umpteenth reason why I should go out with her that weekend. I was about to delete delete delete it... but when I heard Bella's voice, even in the drunken state it was in, I was pleasantly surprised.
Grinning, I made myself comfortable on the couch to listen to what she'd had to say, laughing every so often at not only the fact that she'd called me... several times apparently, but at the babble fest she'd provided.
"I deleted my last message, and I'm gonna delete this one, too. I miss talking to you. It's funny, with all the sex we were having, we sure managed to talk a lot. I like talking while doing it. I like that you like talking while we fucked... made love or whatever. Sex. I really liked having sex with you. Did you take a course or something? 'Cause there was this thing you did with your tongue that I can't stop thinking about. But that's not why I'm leaving another message, even though I'm gonna delete it. And if you think I'm saying all this just because your thing knows how to make my thing really really happy... you're wrong... I— I want to be with you. But it won't work. I'm deleting this message now. It shall be as though this voicemail never existed." Hiccup!
I checked the time stamp on her message. She'd left it the night before, and I couldn't believe I'd missed it, considering I had only been checking my phone to see if she'd called about a bazillion times since leaving her office a few days before.
Just in case.
I also wanted to punch my service provider in the nut sac for making me miss her call.
After I listened to her talk five or... seven, okay, ten more times, I paced the apartment, wondering what in the hell I should do.
I mean, she'd called, which meant she was thinking about me, and from what she was saying, she still liked me. A lot. Maybe even more than a lot based on the fact that she was insinuating not being over me and all. On the other hand, she was drunk, and a lot of times people... women, didn't like to be held accountable for what they said during an obvious drunk dialing episode. She might not even remember she'd done it.
Then what?
Fuck... fuck... fuckity fuck fuck fuck my life.
I came up with a compromise... I knew I was stupid, I knew it was not at all smart to go over to her apartment, the exact location of which I legally should not have known, but I told myself I would just... make sure she was okay and then leave immediately.
No harm done.
Right?
I think I changed my mind twenty times before finally heading over there... and another seven or so on my way over.
And I had been in the middle of second guessing myself again as I made my way down the sidewalk to her building, as a matter of fact, when I ran smack into Rose Hale, the tall blonde bombshell from Bella's office who Emmett McCarty had pledged his undying lust for.
Awesome.
"Oh no you didn't!" she screamed all ghetto-like, causing me to take a step or two backwards, until I was safely out of her arm's reach. "I know you're not showing your face around here. Leave her alone, Cullen! She's drinking her body weight in crap tequila because of your douchebaggery. This shit needs to stop."
My eyes widened with not only the shock of what she was saying... but the volume she was saying it in. She fucking scared the shit out of me in other words.
"I wasn't … I mean I was just... she left me this message and I was..."
Fucking breathe!
"I just wanted to see if she was okay, Rose. She left me a drunk voice mail, and..."
"Yeah, well, she's not okay. She's watching Borat, for fuck's sake. And she smells like sour ice cream and stank."
I didn't want to laugh. I swear I didn't, but I could literally envision her sitting up there in sweat pants and a t-shirt that was ten times her size, surrounded by empty tubs of Ben and Jerry's while trying to decipher what the fuck that Borat guy was even saying.
"Oh, this is funny to you, is it, assmunch?"
The expression on Rose's face shut me up quickly. "I'm sorry, it's just..."
"Honestly, I don't know why she's so torn up over you in the first place. It's not like you're that good looking. Jake was at least hot, even if he wasn't into poon. But you're more like that douchetard, John Cusack. Not. Hot."
Okay, first of all, gay or not, that Jake guy was definitely getting a smackdown if I ever met him, and secondly, Rose was officially annoying the hell out of me. John Cusack in Say Anything was my fucking hero.
So I shot a bitter remark or two right back at her.
"Guess that makes us even then, since I don't get what McCarty sees in you either."
"Emmett likes me?" Her jaw dropped. Actually, she looked almost... happy... which was even more disturbing than her trying to be scary.
"Uh... he might." I shrugged.
"Huh. We're off topic, here. The question is, Cullen, what are you gonna do about Bella? She needs you. Are you man enough to sweep her off her feet? Because if you're not, you need to go ahead and fuck off for good."
Man enough to sweep her off her feet.
"I don't know if that's enough anymore, Rose... I mean she basically told me to fuck off about three times already."
"Yeah, and that's why she's drinking her sorrows away. Trust me, fishface, that girl has some serious feelings for you."
"Nice, Rose, that's... very mature, fishface... got any more zingers for me?"
Don't get me wrong, bantering with Rose was about as fun as sticking fucking needles through my dick, but what she said about Bella having feelings for me... it was making the wheels inside my head turn faster than they had in days.
"All I'm saying is you better think long and hard about how you're gonna fix this. And don't even think about going up there right now. She needs a shower. She won't let you in."
She was right.
I hated that she was right, but she was.
I needed to think things through, let Bella think things through... get past her drunk dialing stage... get clean... and maybe open herself up to listening to me before I just... stormed the castle. So to speak.
"Alright... I'll go. And thanks, Rose. Um... good luck with Emmett."
I guess I meant it; I mean after all, she was only being a bitch because she was defending her friend.
Back at my apartment, I was frustrated all over again. I tried to sleep, but it never actually came to me. I just tossed and turned all night, worrying about Bella and wondering if she was puking from too much tequila and ice cream.
When I did doze off, I had nightmares of Borat suckling her tits while flipping me off, and I couldn't get over to him to knock him the fuck out. I kept getting stuck in one of those long ass hallways, like in Poltergeist, when the mom was running, but the walls kept stretching out in front of her.
Yeah.
Good times.
When 6AM finally rolled around, I grabbed a quick shower, dressed and headed into the office, stopping only once, so I could get a nice large coffee to go before freezing my ass off on the way.
Standing there, in that long ass line at the coffee shop, as the cashier took forever to ring up the patrons in front of me, I was lost in my own thoughts when none other than Emmett McCarty elbowed me in the ribs.
"'Sup, Cullen. Dude I love this coffee shop," he informed me as he rubbed his big ass hands together and blew on them to try and warm up.
I nodded, but in reality, I hated this coffee shop. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of Bella.
Like right now for instance. I eyed the cashier. She was the one who'd taken my order the night we went there for our "date". Other times I'd mistake some friendly hellos for reminders of tricks Bella might have done in the past...then I'd stare at the corner table in the back of the tiny story where we'd talked for a little while.Where I'd once again taken things she said wrong and assumed she was taking payment for services rendered... Then, of course, there was the trash can we'd tossed our coffees into before heading back to my apartment for the absolute best sex I'd ever had
Repeatedly.
Of course it was only the next morning when Alice so gracefully informed the two of us who each other was, thereby crushing all hope of any relationship whatsoever that I might have had with the woman.
Okay, technically it was all my fault.
Was it possible to junk punch oneself?
"You okay, Ed? You look kinda green."
"What? No, I'm good Em," I told him, and then in an attempt to divert the conversation, "Hey, I saw Rose Hale last night. I think she likes you."
His eyebrow did that cocky thing he did when he was trying to be Don Juan, even though he couldn't ever do the accent, and his body mass was like, ten times that guy's. "Say what, mi amigo?"
I nodded. "We kinda... bonded, sort of… anyway, she definitely showed interested when your name came up."
"Sa-weet," was his amorous reply, and I even snorted at the way he said it.
I reached into my pocket to grab some money when I noticed I was finally getting close to the counter to place my order. When I did, a fuck ton of change flew out and onto the tiled flooring, rolling every which way but near me.
"Shit."
He let out an amused chuckle at my expense. "You're a mess, Ed. Want some help?"
"Nah, I got it," I told him, chasing after the money and forgetting all about my order. For some reason I was always compelled to chase coins when I dropped them.
I had just about all of it when the door opened and my foot kicked a couple of quarters out into the chilly morning air.
"Excuse me," I said to the customer as he tried to maneuver his way around my obnoxiously hunched body.
I spotted the coins, and just as I bent to pick them up, I heard voices from around the corner of the building.
They didn't sound friendly.
"Let... go!"
"Come on, I've got the money on me, baby. We can make this quick and dirty."
When I rounded the corner to see what was up, I froze, seeing Bella struggling with some jack-off.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him, struggling to free herself from his grip on her arm.
"Come on, ho, I heard you talking to that blonde bitch and then the Commissioner asks me if I'd like a date. I mean, at first I thought he was hitting on me until he mentioned you... it didn't take much for me to figure out how things worked. Commissioner's got the ultimate pimp lifestyle, right? He sets up the Johns... you reap the benefits? How much does he make off this, anyway?"
"What?"
Realization must have struck her because she pulled harder, trying to loosen her wrist from his grasp, but he wasn't letting her go, and then with one last swift tug combined with a head smash (using what looked like a back pack of some sort), she was free of him. He grabbed at the pack but she chose to let it go, then ran in the opposite direction of where I was standing.
Apparently, she hadn't seen me.
And neither had the jack-off, until he turned to leave, too, dropping the bag to the ground before he left the scene.
"What's going on back here?" I asked him with as much control as I could muster.
"None of your business, that's what." He had this... entitled sound in his attitude that made me want to kick his teeth in.
I stared at him with a rage inside of me I couldn't control and didn't want to, only able to imagine what might have happened had Bella not gotten away from him.
"Can I help you, buddy?" he asked, eyeing me like I was just some fucking nobody off the street, as he zipped up his jacket and pulled his gloves back over his hands, making to just... go along his merry way. As though he hadn't just tried to...
Fuck.
I didn't answer him, and when he tried to step around me, I moved so he couldn't.
My hands balled into fists at my sides.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Who the hell are you that you think you can touch her like that?"
"Touch...? You mean Bella?" He laughed, and I sneered.
"She's just some cock tease, man, don't get your panties in a twist..." He leaned in a little and whispered, "Apparently she takes money for uh... you know... but she wasn't in the mood or something today, I guess. Or maybe this was too crowded a place, who knows?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "The fuck did you just say?"
"She's just some whore, dude, settle down."
Inside, my stomach was already swirling and wrenching. I wanted to be sick, because I couldn't help but wonder if it wer my actions and insinuations that had somehow gotten around the rumor mill and given this dickless wonder the impression that Bella was a paid hooker. Outside, my fists here already pounding on his face.
"You... don't... ever... fucking... call-her-that!" With each word I spoke to him, my fist connected with his jaw as I held him upright by the collar of his... police uniform.
My arm stopped, mid-punch, when I realized he was a cop. Then I let go him, slowly, which in turn gave him the opportunity to stumble and run away like a scared little girl with blood oozing from his nose and lips.
My breathing was labored and I was still in the middle of trying to re-gain my composure when I noticed someone standing not too far from where I'd just put a beating on a fellow officer.
I was done for, I thought. Some law abiding citizen was going to turn me in for assaulting a police officer and then the Commissioner was going to fire me for sure, boyfriend or not to his daughter.
That's when I looked and saw who that law abiding citizen was.
My chest tightened.
I hadn't been this close to her in days.
"Bella?"
She held something up for me to see. It was the backpack. "I, um... forgot my bag."
I didn't know what to say, and I didn't know what to do, as she approached me. I swallowed hard, trying to think of something when she took my hand in hers, letting her fingers graze the raw tops of my knuckles.
I winced.
"You're bleeding."
"No blood, no foul." I shrugged.
"But there is blood." Her lower lip quivered, and I thought she was going to start crying. But she didn't. She threw her arms around my neck and started kissing me... all over my face. "You defended my honor?"
I nodded, angling my hips away from her so she wouldn't be offended by the wood in my pants that erected every time I was around her.
"I'm so sorry, Edward," she blubbered.
"You look like you're having a bad day." I smiled like an idiot, ignoring my raw skin as I wiped the tears away, kissing her cheek. "Wanna come over for a pudding cup?"
I don't know why I said it. It was just one of those moments, you know? When I just wanted to make the woman I cared about smile, but hadn't really thought through what I was gonna say so I just blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.
That first night we'd met—when she looked so lost—she said pudding would cheer her up.
I was ready for her to slap me... or, punch my balls or something for it, but she surprised me.
"No," she replied. "I want you to come on my face."
I had no clue whether or not she was kidding. The fact that she was laughing was definitely a good sign, though.
Flanny's A/N - Every time you review us, The Freak comes on my face. That's not weird, right?
Freak: Uh...
The Freak's A/N: Seriously guys. THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading this one. We'd had so much fucking fun writing them, it's just nice to know you all are having fun too. LOVE!