Disclaimer: No Twilight blah blah. Bliss n Eso's 'Party At My Place' is a corker of a song for this chapter. Both the video and lyrics.

Note: I forgot to mention last chapter that, yes, an Eskie is like a cooler box. You put ice in it and it keeps your drinks/food cold.

Thirteen

So, apparently when Rosie says "just a few people", Jasper hears the words "everyone you've ever met, plus that weird guy who works at the supermarket". By ten o'clock people are spilling out of the back door and onto the decking, every available space covered by Eskies, chairs and people milling around. At first Rose freaked the fuck out, worried that things would get broken or that police would show up. Of course after half a dozen jelly shots, she couldn't give a shit who's here.

"Who are all these people?" I yell over the music, watching as some drunken girl sloshes something red out of a bottle and onto the carpet.

"Friends. Friends of friends," answers Jasper, shrugging as he pours about six different types of liquor into a cup and then adds some lemonade.

I can feel my dress sticking to my lower back with sweat. Even with the doors and windows wide open and the fans on, the house is still hotter than the pits of hell. The combination of a thirty-three degree day and the body heat swirling through the room has my cheeks pink and the hair at the nape of my neck damp and curling. I feel my ponytail brush my shoulder blades as I covertly check the room for Edward's arrival.

He's not here yet. Not that I care of course.

"Here's to my new roomie," says Jasper, handing me the cup and tapping it with his beer.

It smells awful and tastes even worse. "Oh fuck, that's awful," I splutter, feeling the mixture of gin and something else settling hot and heavy in my stomach. "What is it?"

Jasper shrugs. "Dunno."

With an arm over my shoulder, he spends some time introducing me people; "working the room" as he calls it. I try to ignore the blatant filthy looks from most of the girls as they glare at his arm - golden skin covered in dark ink - draped over my shoulder. I wonder what they would think if they knew the truth, if they knew who's arm was around my shoulder the night before.

As awful as it tastes, the drink Jasper made me does a pretty good job at getting me thoroughly tipsy, very quickly. And after half a cup of the stuff my taste buds are numb and I can barely taste it anyway. I'm chatting to Jacko and some of his mates, swaying happily to the music when Edward finally appears at my side.

"Well, well, fancy seeing you here," he says, a beer in his hand. Dressed in his usual attire, he looks casually fuckable even in the sweltering heat.

"Fancy," I reply, "Since I live here and all." I can already feel my fingers tingling from my drink, my legs like jelly under me.

"It's hot as fuck in here," he says, pulling his t-shirt away from his chest. The movement of his shirt sends a waft of his scent my way, the heady mix of his laundry detergent and boy smell sending a wave of electricity over the surface of my skin. It was only the night before we were in his van, sweaty and laughing, fumbling in the dark like teenagers. Desire is literally rippling under the surface of my skin, making my nerves twitch and my stomach clench uncomfortably.

"How was work?"

Such a mundane question from such a beautiful boy; it makes my heart pitter-patter.

"Fine. Busy."

Nodding, he looks me up and down, lingering on the neckline of my dress; the one I may or may not have picked with him in mind.

"What did you do this morning?"

He shrugs. "Nothing exciting. What are you drinking?" He lifts my cup to his lips and makes a face as he takes a sip. "Jasper?"

Nodding, I take a gulp too, already numb to the taste.

"Oi, Mase," interrupts one the boys, and with a last grin, Edward turns.

"See there's a storm coming in tomorrow arvo?"

He nods. "Yeah, Dad says the northeast will pick up tonight. Should be some good swells in the morning."

A chorus of excited mumblings rushes through the boys, and there's talk of dawn patrol and victory swells. I'm very slowly beginning to pick up on the surf talk. I know 'swells' have something to do with waves; a good swell means decent waves, which means Rose and Jasper come home happy.

As seems to be the norm, my one little moment with Edward is all I get for a while. The boys really are inseparable, and finding time alone with him, especially when trying to keep things on the down low, proves to be hard.

The night wears on, and between Jasper, Rose and Riley, my cup is never empty. Outside, the night air smells of citronella candles and cigarette smoke, the distinct smell of weed and salty sea breeze seeping in.

My lips and tongue are blue from the jelly shots, Rose's tinged red.

"So, what's up with you and Ed?" she asks, her arms wrapped loosely around my waist as I wobble unsteadily on her lap.

"What? Nothing," I lie, swishing the remnants of my drink around in my cup.

I feel her laugh beneath me. "Sure. And I guess that wasn't his bright yellow van I saw dropping you off last night either?"

"Nope."

Looking around for an escape, I spy a pair of grey-blue eyes looking my way. With a hand tucked casually into his pocket and a beer at his lips, he watches me over the top of his bottle, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows. The weight of his eyes is like a thousand tiny fingers all over my body, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling as I take a deep breath.

"And that's not a dirty fucking hickey on your neck."

Slapping a hand to my neck, I teeter unsteadily on Rosie's lap. "What? There is not!"

She laughs, holding onto me to stop me from falling. "I'm kidding. But you're a shitty liar anyway."

"I'm not lying. I'm just being creative with the truth."

Rosie pinches my thigh gently. "Just be careful, is all I'm saying."

I look on as a gaggle of girls, and they can only be described as a gaggle since they're so young and loud and obnoxious, strut over to Edward. Rose and I watch as they practically fawn over him, smiling, giggling, hair flipping, the kinds of things I should do, but just feel stupid doing.

"You gonna go over there?" Rose asks.

We watch as Edward plays along, smiling sweetly, running his hands through his hair and generally abusing my self control.

"Nah."

"Fuck that," mutters Rosie, shoving me off her lap as she stands up. Glowing fierce and beautiful under the twinkling party lights, she stomps over.

"Who the fuck are you?" she spits loudly in one of the girl's faces.

"Who are you?" fires back the dark-haired beauty, a hand on her hip.

Rosie raises an eyebrow and leans in looking at her incredulously. "I live here, bitch."

Taking it as his cue to exit, Edward nods goodbye and leaves Rosie alone to deal with the young gate crashers. He's pink cheeked and swaying a little, unable to hide the grin that spreads across his face as he nears, plopping himself into a seat beside me.

He opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by Jasper, drunk as fuck, yelling his name as he comes bounding through the backyard, a short, blonde-haired girl under his arm trying to keep up. I try to find it in me to be put out, but Edward is all giggles and silly boy drunk, wobbly on his feet and full of smiles - I just can't do it.

Looking down at my cup, I pout, suddenly a little forlorn that it's empty. Tapping the bottom of the cup, I slurp the remains of whatever it was that was in there, and leave Edward in search of another.

Between the wall to wall people and the constant meet and greet, it takes me almost half an hour just to get to the bathroom. The bath, once filled with ice, is now a slushy mix of water and cans of beer. Bypassing the couple practically humping against the vanity, I dip my hand into the water to grab a can of beer. The water is still icy cold, and the can is cool to the touch. Sighing, I wipe my cold wet hand across the back of my neck, goosebumps trailing up my arms as cold water rolls down my spine.

A warm hand wraps around my elbow, and a familiar scent hits me as I'm pulled against his chest. "Are you trying to kill me?" he says quietly.

I smile. "I'm just trying to keep cool."

"Cool," he repeats, a deep sigh caressing the skin of my neck, his broad chest expanding across my bare back.

"That's your bedroom right there, hey?" he says, and I can feel the heat pouring off his skin through the thin material of his t-shirt.

Clutching the wet can to my stomach, I nod.

His hands are insistent as they pluck the drink from my hand, letting it fall back into the bathtub with a splash, before he leads me out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

"Does it have a lock?" he asks, hands moving down my arms and across my abdomen, my dress bunching between his fingers.

I shake my head, rendered speechless with need as I turn the door handle.

Standing in the doorway to my bedroom, I turn around, my heart stuttering an uneven rhythm at the sight of him; dishevelled and a glorious, a mess of drunk smirks and flushed skin.

He shakes his head. "Fuck it."

Stumbling into my bedroom, Edward takes all of half a second to look around before pushing me further into the room and closing the door behind him. It's only been one day, but as our lips finally connect, it feels like I've been waiting forever. We're a frenzy of lips and hands as I pull him down with me onto the bed, and he laughs as I rip his t-shirt over his head and toss it into my room somewhere, hopefully never to be found again. The music thumps on the other side of the door, the beat of the bass rumbling through the walls. His skin is hot, his heart beating hard against his chest, golden skin smattered with freckles from days in the sun.

"Wait a sec," he pants, and for a moment I think he's going to stop. Instead, he sits up and leans back on his heels, smiling. "I just wanna do one thing."

With an open hand, he watches as he slowly runs his fingertips up the outside of my calf, dipping them into the dip behind my knee, making me shiver. Continuing upwards, he skims the outside of my thigh where he captures the bottom of my dress. I lift up a little, allowing him to slip it over my hips and then my head, leaving me panting in my bra and undies. With only the light filtering in through the blinds, I watch as he kisses my ankle, my calf, my knee, all the way up to my thighs. I let out a pathetic little yelp as his teeth close around the inside of my thigh gently before his tongue sweeps over the sensitive skin, making my legs fall open a little wider.

"Your fucking legs, Bella. Christ, they're the most perfect things I've ever seen, did you know that?" I shake my head as he begins again at my other ankle. "So fucking long and smooth, and fucking pretty. And I don't call things pretty all that much, but they are. So bloody pretty." The urge to press my knees together overwhelms me as he sucks the skin inside my thigh, higher than before, and hard enough to leave a mark. The ceiling fan does nothing to cool my heated skin, and a sweat breaks out across my chest as Edward's lips travel up over my hip bone.

It's too much - too much but not enough.

I almost fall off the bed as I try to pull a badass ninja move and flip him onto his back. With some fumbling and laughter, I finally get him underneath me; finally get to touch the skin I see so regularly. His drunken ramblings quiet as I kneel over him, my fingers exploring the perfect contours of his chest; the dip over his sternum, the little bumps of his ribs exposed to me as he breathes deeply.

His hands explore from below; fingers caressing my legs, my hips, making me giggle as they skim my ribs.

"C'mere." He pulls me down beside him on the bed.

"You taste good," he hums, sucking gently on my bottom lip as we continue to kiss. His mouth tastes like beer and the peppermint Extra he's been chewing all night. I must taste like gin and a shot I had earlier.

"We should go out…" He groans, his brows furrowing as my hand slips down the front of his boxers. "Fuck. Out on a date or something."

For a quiet guy, Edward is extremely fucking chatty when I want him to shut up and kiss me again.

He fumbles with my bra, grunting a little as he rocks into my hand. I was right to be a little worried. Closing my hand around him, my fingertips touch only when I squeeze a little, which earns me a grunt and an accompanying thrust.

"Is this a trick bra or something?" he mumbles, tugging roughly at the clasp of my bra.

Figuring the best way to get it off quickly might be to do it myself, I reach around and brush his hands aside. When my drunken fumbled tries to undo my bra are also fruitless, we both end up laughing as I pull it up and over my head.

Edward stops laughing, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. "Fuuuuck," he groans as his hands attach themselves to my now bare breasts. His hands are hot against my skin, his touch making my head spin. And the bed. And the room. Come to think of it, that's probably the alcohol.

"Wait, wait, wait," he pants, pulling back a little, still grinning.

"No, no "wait". Now." I try to push my hand back into his boxers, but he just laughs, trying to wriggle out of my reach.

"Bella."

"Can't we just…" I tug at the elastic of his boxers.

"I don't know if I can tonight," he admits a little sheepishly.

"What? Why? We'll be quiet, I promise."

"No way! I'm drunk as fuck," he says, laughing. "I'll last about two seconds!"

"That's fine," I reply, giggle snorting as I accidentally knock him on the head with my elbow as I try to straddle him again.

"It's not fine, Bella."

I'm too drunk to put up a fight as he pulls me off of him and onto the bed again.

Pouting, I let go of his boxers. "But..."

"Just chill," he smirks, pulling my hands up over my head, securing them safely away from his crotch. "It's not like you're leaving tomorrow, we have time."

The room is still spinning furiously, and I contemplate lying on the floor to make it stop. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. "Fine. Party pooper."

Like the fight has all but drained out of us, Edward and I lie tangled on my bed, dozing in a drunken stupor, the party still raging outside my door.

"Seriously, though," says Edward, his voice raspy and heavy with sleep. "Shouldn't I take you out on a date or something first?"

My eyes are heavy, the blood pulsating behind my closed eyes. "Nah. Dates mean labels. I don't want a label."

"A what?" He sounds as close to sleep as I am, his arm draped over my chest, his head buried in the pillows beside mine.

"Labels...Girlfriends and...boyfriends and..." I yawn loudly. "Stuff."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Thirty-three degrees: We measure temperature in Celsius, so 33C is about 91F. Hot.

Extra: Chewing gun brand.

"Arvo": Short for afternoon.

"Northeast": Also called a "Nor'easter", it's a wind change that comes form the north-east, often bringing good swells to southern parts of Australia.

*hides*

Tiff is the bomb, yo. Fo reals. Thimbles is just...what can I say. She's a warm doona on a cold morning. And my Ink, my girl, my lovah. I'm lusty for them all.

Thank you to everyone still reading and leaving reviews, and putting me on alert and for just BEING THERE, OKAY! Have a lovely weekend 3