Welcome to PAD's iffy relationship.
Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Counseling Center.
I just want her to take me on as a client.
Confabulatory Cullen
Something changed when I dropped Bella off at Demetri's at 8:30 this morning, and I actually felt relieved when she gave me a quick kiss on the lips and booked out of my car. I breathed in deeply and exhaled heavily, feeling some of the tension between us dissipate.
What is wrong with me? The girl I just figured out I love declared herself to me with no words while I was having a pussy meltdown of epic proportion after having a horrific nightmare involving her willingly being ripped away from me from that Felix beast who was in our living room. I could brand my own ass as chastisement in knowing I gave an especially masculine performance while crying my eyes out over losing her last night—what a way to pour on the testosterone, Cullen—and she still consoled me while baring her own soul. I felt like such a pathetic loser this morning after wondering what she must have thought of me.
Then, when she stepped out of the shower, things started going south, or maybe they even packed up and moved east. I don't know if she just experienced second thoughts or washed away all of my irresistible pheromones, but something with her definitely became different in our relationship, if I can even call it that.
After we had a silent war over whose music was going to play in my car on the way over to her truck, things just felt a little weird between us. Oh, who am I kidding? Things were monumentally fucked up.
What once seemed like an endless set of foreplay involving teasingly playful acts of sexually repressed banter now feels like Twilight Zone shit where we aren't even in the same dimension.
Bella kissed me.
I should be on figurative cloud nine, but instead I'm stuck in Seattle fog. If I don't find a way out of it soon and get my head out of my ass, I could ruin the best thing of my life.
I get that we're in that awkward stage now because the "chalk guy" hasn't shown up yet to put the lines down on our playing field. Neither of us can even call a home court advantage now because we live together. We can only slam doors and retreat to our rooms or grab our own keys and speed off if we have fights.
God, even my hypothetical thoughts are condemning us before this even gets started. We haven't even willingly gotten to second base yet, and already I'm dooming this. Well, maybe subconsciously I have gotten to some groping, but that doesn't count because I wasn't conscious!
Maybe it's just the novelty and all that has us both panicked. It could also be the fact that neither of us knows how to proceed because this is truly something new. I hope this is just an uncomfortable "When Harry Met Sally realization" and things will, eventually, have their happy ending. At least, I hope it will have a happy ending. No not that kind—I'm not that crass. On second thought, I want that happy ending, too, and maybe I am that crass.
Getting back to what matters, we had our walking-on-eggshells-to-not-scare-the-elephant-in- the-room moment this morning and skirted around all things related to us in an attempt to get some of our normalcy back.
I managed to make drip coffee and strawberry Pop-Tarts without any red trucks or water hoses paying us a visit. Maybe that was the clincher…strawberry Pop-Tarts…comfort food…the things that Walmart puts out on pallets when the economy is bad to make people feel good. Maybe, inadvertently, I'm seeking feel-good food because I'm afraid that this isn't going to work. In turn, she saw that in me and now she's going all Freudian by second guessing me, as well.
I have to stop thinking. She couldn't have gotten all of that from my choice of breakfast food, could she? That damn business class I took last semester has me over analyzing everything now, too.
Weed would really fix this shit now. I should go find Jasper, but what am I trying to fix? I can't just smoke all of my problems away. I can't even talk to Jasper about it because Bella and I agreed that we wouldn't tell our friends or families. I'm fucked. I guess I should just drag my ass to class now and try to deal with our issues later.
I'm sitting in my Anthropology: Sex and Gender class, but I keep on daydreaming about how forced stuff felt between Bella and me earlier. I almost want to ditch cleaning my room today and just not show up until after Bella leaves for work this afternoon, but that would be an extremely chicken-shit move on my part.
"Read chapter four and be prepared to engage in a lively class discussion. Have a good weekend; I'll see you all on Wednesday."
The professor's words generate an idea, and I wait for the rest of the students to filter out.
"Um, Professor Cope, may I have a few minutes of your time?"
"Certainly, Mr. Cullen, I do have student appointment hours now, but not surprisingly, for a soon-to-be- Friday afternoon, none have been signed up for. Please, by all means, follow me to my office."
I give her my killer grin and offer to carry some of her things. She smiles obligingly and probably knows my angle but doesn't let on. I continue walking behind her in a rhythm I could potentially equate to being part of my own execution. The only things missing are the town heckles and the ominous drumbeats.
My heart's in my throat over what I want to discuss. It's so unlike me to ask anyone for advice, especially in this area of study.
"Thank you for allowing me to talk to you on such short notice."
It's all I can get out. My words are frozen, locked up like a fallen twig that's been captured in ice.
"Well, what may I help you with? Is it something about today's lecture, the upcoming assignments, or a special interest topic?
That last part jars me and dislodges the twig.
"It isn't about today's lecture or upcoming assignments, but I guess it can be considered a special topic…"
I stand, shake out my nerves, close my eyes, count to five, and find my focus; here goes.
"I live with a girl roommate. She's been my best female friend forever. We've grown up together. Very recently, as in last night recently, we kind of made our intentions known to one another that we want to try to do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I know all about the physiology of trying to make that part of the relationship work but know nothing about the dynamics of how the social and intimacy stuff is supposed to play out. I've never done this kind of thing before and have pretty much viewed sex as an act - to relieve tension, have fun or satisfy urges. I want to take this extremely seriously and not screw things up. My friend means the world to me, and I want things to work out between us."
"Bravo, Mr. Cullen; I commend you for being so serious. Your statement says a great deal about your character and commitment. I so rarely see these attributes present in the underclassmen and women I teach. Just your presence here assures me that you will not take your relationship lightly. There isn't one specific antidote I can offer to cure all your ills, but I will let you borrow this."
She hands me a yellow and black CD. Is this a joke—Relationships For Dummies? She must see the dumbstruck look on my face.
"I know what you must be thinking, Mr. Cullen. 'She's a professor. She's supposed to be an expert. She teaches us classes. She should know these things'. I assure you, I am capable on all counts, and that is why I am suggesting this book. It simplifies what your text cannot. It sounds to me like you need help now, not in another thirteen weeks when the semester ends. This book will help you with the basics. Your textbook will help further to fill in the gaps, if necessary. The most important point of advice to consider is for you to listen to your partner, which is clearly not something you were actively engaging in while in my class today."
She's got me there.
"I'm sorry about that. I was a little preoccupied."
"If you just browse through even the high points of this book, you will fare well. Also, think about the one form of intimacy you flourish in, and capitalize off of that strength. Good luck, Mr. Cullen; your friend is fortunate to have someone as conscientious as you."
"Thank you, Professor."
I head home with renewed determination but not before popping the CD into my car stereo.
Additionally, I also stop off to get a few things I think will help us overcome some of the awkwardness.
My head still hurts. I should probably have gotten an x-ray, but it's not as bad as it was last night; I don't have dizziness or blurred vision, either. I checked in with Dad, and he said I should be okay as Bella had already texted him throughout the night with unremarkable updates, as he'd put it.
My gut is in rough shape, too, from the head butt and the lethally spicy Asian food I had last night. I have to pull over and use the facilities at a local coffee shop. It's a good thing they had a window in the men's room. I can now add flaming asshole to my list of somatic complaints along with my hurting head and aching stomach. At least my nuts aren't going nuts. I think I have finally recovered in that respect.
I feel guilty for giving their john a workout, so I get myself a coffee and buy some fresh cannoli for Bella. I make a "doughnut" out of my sweatshirt for my burning butt and gently get into my car. I am so tempted to toke-up to ease my mind, but I need a clear head. I consider what the Professor said about listening and finding a relationship-strength. I think about how I goad Bella all the time, which is what gets her hot. This seems to work for us. It's not that I want to piss her off all the time, but it appears to excite her when my "dickishness" forces her hand.
I decide I'm going to pretend nothing's awkward and just be me.
"Hey, Bella."
I walk over to her and give her the bouquet of lilies, gladiolas, snapdragons, and roses I bought. I also give her a few African violets in assorted lavenders she doesn't already have, as purple is her favorite color, and put the box of cannoli in front of her."
"Wow, um thank you."
"You're welcome."
I lean in and kiss her on the side of her temple like I would ordinarily, nothing different, just similar comfort. See, I don't always have to be a jerk.
"Um, I made some lunch; do you want to eat before starting your room? I still have to leave at 2:40 to be to work by 3:00."
"Sure."
Well, at least she doesn't seem to be freaking out; maybe this will work out between us after all.
Bella made tuna sandwiches with minced celery, Vidalia onions, and fresh-cracked peppercorns – she uses a mixture of white, black, red, green and pink ones with each color lending its own distinct flavor. She uses mixed mesclun lettuce. Mesclun, it's not mescaline Cullen. This line of thought now has me thinking about the peyote cactus mescaline comes from, which in turn is making me think about peyote buttons from the cactus which is making me think of what they look and feel like which is the cluster of tissue associated with the nerve-bundled area a woman's rumored g-spot is located around. This, in turn, is making me think of finding Bella's rumored nerve-bundled, g-spot area.
"Are you okay?" You kind of have a glazed look about you."
"Uhm, yeah, I was just thinking about the mixed greens you put on the tuna."
"Oh, okay."
Bella knows me well enough not to push further when it comes to my convoluted thoughts.
We finish our sandwiches.
"Do you want the cannoli now or later?"
"Um, after you do your room will be fine. I kind of want something heavy like that to tide me over until I have to make supper later on.
Bella starts doing the dishes. I grab a sponge and start wiping the table. She gives me a wrinkled brow in confusion but doesn't say anything. Then I grab a dishtowel from the drawer she keeps them in, and I watch her add the soap and put the dishes in. Huh, she only adds about a teaspoon, interesting. She also starts with the glasses first. After she washes those, she adds the silverware, lastly the plates. I dry them all and put everything away.
"Thank you, Edward."
She turns to me and tiptoes to plant a simple kiss to my lips.
Ooh, chalk one up for Cullen. The pitching in with chores earns rewards points. I wonder if I can accrue frequent flyer miles and bump up to the next category. I consider what I'll have to do to become a member of the mile-high tier. It's time to do some table-turning.
She pulls away eyeing me for my reaction. I give nothing away but place my hands on both of her shoulders and give her a half-circle turn.
I start gently massaging her blades and roll my thumbs up and down her neck. She tenses at first and tries pulling away at the increased intimacy, but I hold her in place and keep up the assault.
She relaxes and starts to enjoy it.
"Edward, uhnng, this re-eally isn't ne-ecessary, but ple-ease don't stop."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
I continue but don't push by making this into something more. We'll have to ease into that when she is good and mellow. I have a feeling that last night her alcohol and my opiates moved us further along than what would have naturally progressed between us, so maybe she felt a little backpedaling was in order this morning to spare some embarrassment.
I draw her back around so I'm facing her, and in a suave move I nuzzle my nose next to her ear to make her shiver, and then I whisper.
"Thank you, Bella, for a delicious lunch; I am so looking forward to supper."
I'm careful to enunciate each syllable and put special emphasis on my l's, s' and p's before leaving a lengthy, suctioning kiss on her right cheek.
It's just enough to leave a slightly reddened mark but not an overtly noticeable hickey. When she goes to the sporting goods store this afternoon, that will have Mike Newton, the "handsy" son of Bella's boss, irritated and curious over which male got close enough to leave that mark on her. Take that, asshole! Hands off! She's spoken for.
Bella's glassy eyes and drooping lids tell me she's gotten my message - that I have her right where I want her, which is clearly worked up. She clears her throat before speaking.
"Maybe we should get started on your room before we get any more distracted."
"That sounds like a plan."
I lead the way and think about what my blueprint entails and hope tonight will find her just as eager to show her emotions as the last one. I realize, though, that I am way out of my element and have to employ some powerful assistance. So as soon as Bella has gone to work, I am going to be doing some serious Facetiming with mom.
A/N:
Next up is Edward's room part two.
What more can Bella find?
Do you think it will put a damper on Edward's plans?
Review me your thoughts.
Thank you to my spectacular beta, Chayasara, for fixing up my messes.
Special thanks to Monica Solis, a.k.a. CaliGirlMon on FFN, for making my banner.
Thank you for reading.
PAD