Note from the translator: all things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer and Collisions is a fan fiction that was first written in French by the very popular and talented Drinou. I aim to make her known from the English readers as well, and I hope you'll enjoy this second chapter. I also want to thank you for reviewing the first chapter, and please, remember that this story contains adult themes and is not intended for under age readers.

Good reading.

Chapter 2: New impact

I let out a sigh. 7h29 a.m. The doors were about to open, and the rush would begin. Once more the customers would line up at the counter one after the other, and I would serve them my brightest smile when my only wish was to run away from here and never come back.

But what else could I do? I'd lost the best job I could hope for. I did everything I could in order to get that job and I wasn't able to keep it more than one evening.

Memories of that night came back to me in flashes.

Him, standing half naked in front of me. His husky voice addressing me.

"Do you like to see me undressed like this in front of you? ... What do you want, Isabella?"

His lips against my skin. His tongue on my breasts. My moans.

"Touch me, Isabella."

Me, discovering his muscular torso. His lips on mine. Our tongues dancing together...

"Is this what you want, Isabella? ... I need an answer!"

His finger entering me, moving inside my body...

"One Espresso Macchiato, please."

I jumped as I found myself face to face with my first client of the day who brought me back to reality.

God, this day was going to be a very long one...

If, generally speaking, my shift was only a few hours a day, today I was working full time. Ten long hours, during which I'd serve coffees to increasingly impatient customers.

Help!

I mentally slapped myself. After all, it was entirely my fault if I was here today, so I had better stop grumbling and serve that woman before she threw a fit and I ended up unemployed once again.

Pasting a commercial worthy smile on my lips, I threw myself into action and relayed the orders as they came to my colleague preparing the precious drinks behind me. The hours flew by, both slowly and at full speed. Slowly, because there was nothing more tedious than spending the day smiling, serving clients, and cleaning. And fast because there was no wait in between the customers, they were all coming and going in a constant flow, leaving me no time to rest. So I was totally exhausted when I finally got home past 7 p.m., after a long ride in the subways in addition to walking some of the distance.

I was living in a tiny and modest studio in a large apartment building down town Manhattan. I loved this apartment mostly because of its location. But I had to admit the rent was fairly expensive. With my job worries in recent weeks, I was having a hard time making ends meet. That's why I agreed to work overtime during the coming days. Being jobless for almost a month had done very bad things to my savings account.

I flumped on my sofa bed like a larva, still wearing my uniform, and I sighed. How could I have screwed up that much? Everything was perfect. I had a good job with good hours. I was working with my friend Jake without any special constraints... and I'd messed it all up, and for what? For a roll in the hay in the restrooms!

Ahhh!

The only thing I gained out of this episode was a public humiliation. All that because of Edward Cullen, his fucking shirt and my frigging clumsiness.

Edward Cullen.

Just thinking of his name was enough to make my heart race in my chest. Why was I reacting like this? After the way he treated me, his name should trigger hives rather than palpitations.

I let out another sigh. How could a man so drop-dead gorgeous be so contemptuous and full of himself? It was beyond me.

Despite another mental slap to myself, I continued thinking about him, the man... I mean the living god who pressed me against a wall and sent me to cloud nine. Maybe he was a bastard... Okay, the worst of his kind, even... but I couldn't drive him out of my mind. More than a month had passed and I could still see his naked body in front of me. I could still feel his fingers over me, inside me, his...

Ahhh!

I let out a cry, half in frustration and half in anger, and I jumped up. I needed a shower – cold – and fast.

Once my thoughts were refreshed, I devoured a sandwich in a hurry and sat on my comfortable couch, which was now converted into a bed. All cozy and warm under my quilt, I grabbed one of the many books that littered my coffee table and plunged into the world of one of my favorite classics.

Pressed against the wall of these luxurious restrooms, I heard his voice echoing.

"This is what you want, Isabella?"

He thrust his finger inside me, inducing a spectacular electric shock down my spine. My muscles contracted and my hands gripped the wall behind me so as not to faint.

"I need an answer."

He removed his finger and forcefully penetrated me anew, adding a second finger along with the first.

"Oh my God... Yes!"

"Very well, then."

He worked his hand between my legs. His fingers made back and forth movements inside me at a frantic pace while his thumb lingered on... Beep... beep... beep... beep...

I awoke with a start, bouncing on my bed as I tried to sit. My book fell to the ground with a loud noise, causing me to jump again.

What the f...

The ringtone that was assaulting my ears went up an octave and I violently crushed my hand on the alarm clock. The calm returned in my apartment and I fell back on my pillow.

Fucking dream!

I buried my head deeper in my cushion and raged silently. As soon as I closed my eyes, pictures of his naked body paraded in front of me; it was becoming... obsessive.

Move your ass or you're going to be late!

I stopped dreaming and painfully clambered out of bed toward my own personal hell, aka the Starbucks Coffee on Pine Street.

One hour later, I was stationed in front of my counter, holding a cup of the precious nectar, patiently waiting for the door to open and the first customers to arrive.

"Do you want some more coffee before the parade of suits, ties, and pencil skirts start?" a sleepy voice asked behind me.

I turned to her. Susan, my colleague who worked as the barista, was slumped over the counter, her head resting on her hand. She was about my age, blond with blue eyes, quite pretty even in her unattractive green and white uniform.

"No, I'm good. Thanks, but I've been up for an hour and I already drank almost a quart!" I joked.

Steven, the other employee present this morning, unlocked the door. Barely two minutes later, people started flowing in.

The day went by in the same fashion as the previous one, both slowly and fast. I had to hold on ten more minutes before my liberation arrive at last and then I could go home.

"Welcome to Starbucks," Susan said. "Bella!" she called me.

Ahhh, it's never going to stop!

With a heavy sigh, I stopped storing the supplies we were just delivered and exited the back room, adjusting my apron.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" I asked without even paying attention to the person before me.

"I think you could do many things, Isabella, but for now I'll have a Venti Caffè Americano."

I froze instinctively on my spot behind the counter. That voice...

Oh my God!

I looked up and I saw two deep green eyes, those eyes that had me so obsessed. Like in my memories, Edward Cullen was standing in front of me in a black suit, displaying a crooked smile. Apparently my reaction was very funny to him. Unfortunately for me, my body refused to obey. However, my brain went into overdrive and swung between the urge to slap his so perfect face or to run away.

He leaned toward me and whispered near my ear. "You seem very troubled. What are you imagining, Isabella? Could it be my hands on your body? Or is it something else?"

He chuckled and it pulled me out of my torpor. Astonishment was replaced by fury. How dare he?

No scandal! You've already lost one job because of him.

"One Venti Caffè Americano," I uttered with a trembling voice to Susan behind me so she could prepare said drink.

I tried my best to pull myself together and calm down. How could this man play yoyo with my emotions so easily?

"It'll be three dollars," I spat out.

He handed me a bill, his smile still anchored to his lips. I put the change on the counter for him to take back and handed him his cup without another word.

"It was a pleasure to see you again, Isabella."

He turned around and headed for the exit.

"And you can keep the change," he shouted as he passed the door.

I remained there, totally stunned by this confrontation. Several unflattering bird names crossed my mind at that very moment. I laid my eyes on the two one dollar coins left on the counter. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry about it.

"You know him?" Susan's voice brought me back to reality. "I feel like I've seen him somewhere before, but I don't know where. Anyway, he's super hot," she added.

"Hot maybe, but he's a bastard. The kind of man I'd rather not have crossed paths with," I confessed in the heat of anger. "Can I let you close? I need some fresh air."

"Sure, no problem. We close in two minutes anyway, so I'll take care of it."

"Thanks. See you tomorrow."

I removed my apron, grabbed my coat and my bag and went outside to clear my mind. I stopped dead after only two steps. He was there, standing next to a magnificent black Mercedes Coupe, his cup of coffee in one hand, and his car keys in the other. His face displayed his abiding crooked smile when he saw me and suddenly I felt the urge to turn around.

"Need something, Isabella?"

Shit!

Why did my legs always refuse to obey when he was around? He stared at me insistently and I felt my treacherous cheeks flush. I had three choices: run and hide inside the Starbucks, spit all the feelings I had for him at his face or continue walking as if nothing was going on. Clearly, none of these options was very flattering for me.

"I've known you more expressive," he laughed. "Remember all the cries you uttered."

He put his cup on the hood of his car and walked toward me. His body a few inches from mine, I could feel my heart pounding faster in my chest. He leaned his face toward mine and I held my breath.

"Do you remember how you begged me to touch you?"

This man was truly a bastard of the worst kind. What pleasure could he take in playing with me like this?

I clenched my fists and stepped back. Thank God my legs had recovered their mobility. I was able to move away from him and I walked away rapidly. I could hear him laughing at my back, and his laughter got louder when I accidentally bumped into an upset pedestrian.

"Go to hell, Edward Cullen," I whispered while stifling a sob of rage.

I strolled along the sidewalk, juggling between the hurrying passers-by. How could I have left this despicable man touch me? This person, who was so contemptuous, cold, harsh, authoritarian and unhealthy... There was rage simmering inside me and I could feel the hatred invading me.

The subway wasn't far. Soon I'd be home and I could relax by breaking a few plates. Maybe I should invest in a punching ball to externalize all this frustration in a healthy way!

Fortunately, I was home quickly. I undressed in haste and engulfed myself in a warm bath to calm my nerves. The evening had started so badly that I really needed a little something to cheer me up. What's better than chocolate for that?

With my nose in the quart of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, I took the remote and started to zap, tirelessly scrolling through all the TV channels until I gave up and focused on my laptop. I resisted the temptation to do some research on him for over a month, but tonight my determination wasn't going to win.

A mere two minutes later, my pc was on and I typed 'Edward Cullen' on the home page of Google. A little voice in my head was telling me it was a bad idea but I quickly brushed it off. I wanted to know who was this... cad.

The results didn't take long to show and I clicked on the first link I found. I didn't learn anything very interesting on this site but I stayed there a few minutes nonetheless, gazing at the photo accompanying the text, lost in the depths of his emerald eyes.

Ahhh!

After a more or less detailed overview of the web concerning the object of my fantasies, I still didn't find much in matter of interesting information. Everything revolved more or less around the Cullen Corp that he was managing despite his young age – he was exactly twenty-eight years old. His company was doing very well according to what I read. But clearly it wasn't the kind of exciting stuff I could feast on.

I was shoving my spoon in the carton of chocolate ice cream once more when my cell phone rang. I glanced and didn't recognize the number.

Strange.

"Hello."

"Miss Swan?"

"Yes."

"Good evening. Mike Newton from N.Y.E. speaking. I have a proposition for you."

Huge thanks to my beta gemryan for her precious help.

See you all next time.

Milk