Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I do own Follow The Sun. The urge to fiddle with beta'd chapters, and probably make mistakes, is also mine.
Twenty-One
"Maybe we are satellites, maybe we are meteors. You know we're gunna be alright, tell me what you're waiting for." 'Satellites' - Catcall
"She's worse than you were on your first night!" laughs Jasper, as the new girl, Kate, drops yet another glass.
"Sorry!" she squeaks, blushing furiously as she bends down to pick up the fourth broken glass in two hours. I watch from the corner of my eye as Paul brushes her hand aside gently, sweeping the glass away. When she first started at the bar, we thought maybe Jasper's luck with the ladies was finally running out. Kate was the first girl I'd seen who hadn't immediately fallen for his flirty smile and inked-up skin. But after watching her around Paul, it's pretty clear to see her attentions are focused elsewhere.
But then, of course, so are mine. Every time I look up my heart sinks a little when I don't find my favourite lop-sided smile looking back at me. It's only been twelve hours since I saw him, but since accepting his position on the tour, Edward has been flat stick training and surfing. It seems like when he's not in the water, he's at the gym fine tuning his fitness, getting himself back into peak condition. Not that I think he needs it; Edward has always been on the skinnier side of lean, and I've always liked it that way. I can't find it in me to complain though; high-intensity cardio and a strict, high-energy, high-protein diet has sent his stamina through the roof both in and out of the water. The tables have turned, and now I'm the one who's worn out.
I spent a stupid amount of time thinking about what to buy him for Christmas, and every time I think about the camera sitting in my work locker, I get a little nervous, and my hands get sweaty.
It's too much. He won't like it.
It's so stupid. Maybe I'll take it back.
What if he just got me something small and I got him this really expensive present?
The third time I pour post-mix all over my hand instead of into a glass, I try to stop thinking about it and focus on my work. It's Christmas Eve, and there some familiar faces in the crowd at Mint, but for Rosie and Jasper, who have lived here all their lives, it's a parade of Clearwater expats, and friends home for the Christmas break.
Even after spending most of the day with Mum and Dad, who are staying at Uncle Mick's, I'm struck with a longing to see old friends, for that feeling of familiarity.
By ten-thirty there isn't a spot left at the bar, and even with spirits high, people are getting impatient.
"Excuse me."
"Be with you in a moment."
The girl I'm serving takes ages digging through her bag, finding all the change at the bottom and then counting the little silver and gold coins on the bar, before burying half her arm into the oversized expensive looking handbag again, looking for more. I know the town thrives on them, but fuck me I hate tourists.
"Excuse me!"
My head whips around to the short, dark-haired girl standing at the end of the bar beside me. "I said hang on!"
She huffs loudly. "Rude much?"
I flip her the finger with my free hand and serve the guy next to her instead.
Just when I think it can't get any louder, the noise level in the bar seems to rise twenty-thousand decibels, like someone's suddenly turned the volume up on the bar. People are almost shouting at one another over the babble of voices and the loud music.
I'm mid-pour when suddenly the crowd around the bar parts like the Red Sea, and Edward appears, a tall, broad-shouldered guy at his side, sporting the trademark Masen smirk, and the best set of dimples you've ever seen. I can only assume, from the way people stop and stare, that it's Emmett Masen; ranked fourth best surfer in the world, and also, Edward's older brother. No wonder the place is in the tizzy.
"Jasper, you ugly fuck!" he booms, his voice carrying across the bar like a command.
Jasper looks up from the beer tap, the glass in his hand forgotten as he reaches across the bar, the two of them clapping hands together loudly, familiar friendly smiles on both of their faces.
"Nice hair, nude nut," says Jasper, reaching over to rub his hands over Emmett's shorn head.
Emmett slaps Jasper's hand away, and the two of them launch into boisterous discussion, completely ignoring the waiting customers at Jasper's end of the bar. Edward greets me with a smile, and smile back, waving an empty pot glass at him. He signals for two, and I grab another.
When I put the two beers on the bar a moment later, I hear Emmett not-so-subtly ask Edward, "This her?", and Edward nods gently as Emmett turns to me, handing me a fifty. I can already hear the whispers from the crowded bar, news of Clearwater's very own surf star is spreading like wildfire.
"You must be the famous Bella Swan."
I nod, smiling as I take his cash. "Last time I checked."
Emmett grins, dimples deep, his eyebrows lifting a little. "Oh, she's a smart ass, E. I can see why you like her."
Both Edward and I blush, and Emmett laughs as he slings an arm over Edward's shoulder.
"And you must be the infamous Emmett Masen," I reply, handing him his change.
He winks, flashing me a smile that can only be described as devastating. "In the flesh."
"How'd you get a hot chick like this, brah?" Emmett looks me up and down, and Edward just rolls his eyes.
"I think he's paying her with surf lessons," pipes up Jasper.
"Fuck off," says Edward, throwing a cardboard coaster at Jasper's head.
"Last time I heard you were the one giving surf lessons for sexual favours, Jazza," teases Emmett.
I continue serving customers as the boys trade insults back and forth. I've never heard anyone call Jasper 'Jazza' before, and from the way his face twists with displeasure at the sound of it, I'm guessing it's because he hates it.
I make a mental note to call him that from now on.
"Nah, everyone knows your mum gives sexual favours for free," replies Jasper, making vulgar moves with his hips.
The boys all erupt with laughter, even Emmett and Edward.
"Can you stop fucking around and do some work please, Jasper?" yells Rose from the back room.
Standing in front of Emmett, at the beer tap, I watch as the dazzling smile he's wearing falters slightly, and his features soften, his larger than life demeanour suddenly quieting as Rosie, laden with a carton of beer, rounds the back of the bar.
"Hey, Rosie."
Rosie's head snaps up, her blue eyes wide. "Hey, Emmett."
From my vantage point between the two of them, I can practically feel the electricity crackling. Rosie stands frozen by the bar fridges as Emmett watches her, both of them waiting for the other to speak.
After a moment though, someone grabs Emmett from behind, wrestling him into a headlock, breaking the spell.
"Oh my God!" I squeal, flapping my hands around excitedly. Rose tries her best to avoid me, but I've got her cornered. "You and Emmett Masen!"
"Shhhhh!" she hisses. "Just..." she laughs, covering her face with her hands for a moment, "Just shut up, okay?" Even with her mouth covered by her hands, I can tell she's smiling. No wonder she's been all over the shop lately; she knew Emmett was coming home for Christmas.
I shake my head ruefully at her. She'd always said no one in Clearwater had caught her eye – I guess since Emmett doesn't technically live in Clearwater, she was right.
"How long have you known he was coming home?"
She shrugs, smiling. "A while."
Her eyes travel over my shoulder and I turn my head, finding the object of her affection standing with the boys across the bar. Like he knows she's looking, he glances over, his eyes meeting hers. When he smiles at her, Rosie grips my hand tightly, and I can almost feel her heart beating through her fingertips. I know exactly what it's like, that fluttery feeling inside her rib cage when he looks at her, the way her stomach clenches at just the sight of him. I know because I feel it.
Shaking her head a little, Rosie gives my arm one last squeeze and returns to work, and suddenly her protective instincts begin to make sense. She's watching me do the exact thing she's doing with Emmett. She knows what it's like to feel like you're being left behind.
I watch her for the rest of the night, laughing as she spills drinks and screws up orders. Emmett's arrival has put her off-kilter and the regular spit-fire Rosie is nowhere to be seen.
Jasper whines a low-grumbly groan as we both stand at the till, dead on our feet and tired as fuck.
"Is it over yet? Can I go home?" I moan.
Jasper looks at his watch. "It's two in the bloody morning; these fuckers should be gone already."
I briefly consider turning the water tap onto the crowd like a fireman at a riot. But somehow I don't think Ben would appreciate me soaking his patrons. Plus, we're still in a drought and need all the water we can get.
"Jasper, you're filling that jug with water you know?"
He's not even looking at what he's doing, his eyes are fixed at the other end of the bar.
"Be still my mother fucking heart," he whispers, clenching his shirt over his chest dramatically. "Who is that?"
He points past Rosie, all the way to the other side of the pub, where the short, dark-haired girl from earlier is standing.
I snort, rolling my eyes. "That bitch? Pfft. She's all yours."
The bouncers from the front door eventually herd everyone out, and finally, one hour later, after the fastest clean up in Mint history, Jasper, Rosie and I are all packing up our stuff, ready to leave for the night.
"How'd you go with the ice princess?" I ask Jasper as he pulls his work shirt up and over his head, tugging his head through.
He rubs a hand over his shaggy, overgrown hair as he pulls it back off his face. "She told me to go fuck myself."
Laughing, Rosie and I have no sympathy for him as he stands there looking all forlorn. At least his dick can get a rest and recoup from all the nasty tourist snatch it's been in lately.
"Oh well."
"Oh well?" Jasper all but spits. "But it's Christmas Eve! Who's going to give me my Christmas cheer?"
I make a crude gesture with my hand. "Looks like you'll have to give yourself some Christmas cheer tonight."
Rosie doesn't even bat an eyelid at the mention of her brother and masturbation in the same sentence; she's a million miles away.
"See you at home in the morning, Jasper?" she asks, pulling her hair up onto her head, her hands a little shaky as she circles the elastic around it.
He nods. I guess Jasper knows what's going on with Emmett and Rose; and he doesn't seem the least bit concerned.
She turns to me, and I can see that she doesn't want to be here a minute more than she has to. "You around in the morning?" she asks.
"Yep. I'm meeting Mum and Dad at Uncle Mick's at ten for brekkie."
She kisses me swiftly on the cheek. "Cool. See you then. Night guys."
And she's gone. Out the door and into the night - no doubt to a waiting Emmett.
"So...Rosie and Emmett, huh?" Jasper and I walk around flipping off the lights in the bar. "Is that weird?"
Locking the front doors, Jasper shakes his head, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Nah, they've been inseparable since Rosie suddenly grew tits."
"Ugh, boys."
"Plus, I beat the piss out of Emmett in year eight for teasing her, so he knows I'll do it again if he hurts her."
"You don't think it's weird that he's never here? Or that Rosie just kind of...waits for him?"
Jasper pulls me into his side tightly, tucking my head under his chin - which makes walking in a straight line difficult. "No weirder that it is with you and Edward."
I nod slowly. "Good point."
Lucky it isn't far home, because the walk is epically slow since we're both absolutely knackered.
"Well, this is me," says Jasper at the door to his bedroom. "Sure you don't want me to stuff your stocking for you?"
A muffled, "Fuck off, Jazza!" booms from my bedroom, and I just shrug.
"Righto then. Your loss." We hug and he wishes me a merry Christmas with a squeeze on the ass. "Night, Edward," he yells, banging on my bedroom door.
The lights are off, but I can see the shape of Edward's body under my sheets, illuminated by the street light outside as it shines through my venetians.
"Santa?" he whispers. "Is that you?"
I toss a sock at him and he chuckles, flopping back into the pillows.
After I splash some water on my face and arms to wash away the beer, I slip into bed in my favourite Christmas pyjamas. Immediately, Edward curls up behind me, tucking his knees up behind mine and pulling me into his chest.
"Merry Christmas," I whisper, turning a little to give him a kiss.
"Merry...hang on...what the fuck are these?" he gasps, tugging at my PJ's.
"They're my Christmas PJ's!" I flatten my hands over the shorts and across the little red singlet. "They've got reindeer on them."
"No. No, no, no." He tugs at the top. "Take them off."
I'm so tired that all I can do is lie there and giggle as he rids me of my offending nightwear. "But I love them."
"It's the middle of summer, Bella. No pyjamas ever. You hear me?" he teases.
Left in just my underwear, Edward pulls me close again, and he's right – the pyjamas were a stupid idea. His skin feels better against mine than anything I could possibly wear.
Brah - Another way of saying 'Bro'.
Flat-Stick: Busy. I don't know where it came from. Are flat sticks busy?
Brekkie - Breakfast
Yep - Christmas is the middle of summer. It's awesome.
Thank you to Tiff for giggling at 'Nipple Cripple'. And to Thimbles who I think has had a thing for Salty since forever ago. And to Ink, who doesn't mind that I hurt her feels a little sometimes.
And thank you to everyone who is reviewing and still putting me on alert.
xx Wink