Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. But I do own the words "fucking kiss me".

Twenty-Six

"You came with Chinese food!"

I clap my hands as Edward deposits three plastic bags on the coffee table, immediately ripping into one searching for the prawn crackers.

"Lemon chicken, Singapore noodles, dim sims- ah! Spring rolls!" I pull one out of the bag and pop it into my mouth. "Veggies, fried rice - what is this?" I lift the plastic container up, looking through its bottom. "Beef and … something? Edward, how much food did you get?"

Taking his seat on the floor beside me, Edward grabs a plate, shrugging. "I'm hungry."

There is enough Chinese food on my coffee table to feed at least six people. I tip a little rice and some veggies on my plate, watching as Edward heaps spoon after spoon of food onto his, munching on crackers the whole time.

Since the competition started, and Edward's training and surfing has increased, so has his appetite. He's like a garbage disposal unit, shovelling food down his throat like his legs are hollow. Just when I think he's full, that maybe he's eaten enough, he goes back for a third and fourth helping. If I didn't miss him so much when he was gone, I'd think it was gross.

Finally, after almost all of the food is demolished, he leans back against the sofa, rubbing his flat stomach. That's the other annoying thing about the amount he eats; no matter what it is he eats, he doesn't put on a single kilo. Not one. In fact, he looks better for it. Meanwhile, I'd look like a whale in my bikini.

It's been almost a week since he got back from Queensland, and I'm still not quite used to his shaved head. It's a Thursday night, just a day out from the Bells Beach comp, and we're sitting in my lounge room, waiting for Rosie and Emmett to get home, watching 'Still Filthy' for the twenty-six-thousandth time. Edward is transfixed, as usual, and I can't help but peek at him from the corner of my eye. Without the softness of his hair, his profile has become more defined; his slightly crooked nose, the cut of his jaw, the angle of his cheekbones – they all perfectly accentuate a handsome face no longer hidden under his hair.

"What are you looking at?"

"Your pretty face."

He throws me a sidelong glance. "What?"

Pushing the coffee table back a little, I wriggle myself between it and Edward, my legs on either side of his hips. His hands immediately find my thighs, and he looks up at me appreciatively.

"What are you up to?"

I press forward and kiss him, sliding the tips of my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. It may have been over a week since he returned, but I still can't get enough of him.

"You get something special for bringing me food."

He laughs, his gaze flickering between my lips and my eyes. "Really? Is it garlic breath?"

My fingers close around the soft skin at his sides and he yelps.

"Oh dear," I reply with a mocking pout. "No kisses for you." I dip my head, my lips brushing against his jaw as my fingers creep up his sides, feeling the flex of his muscle beneath them.

He laughs quietly in my ear. "You wouldn't."

"Watch me," I whisper against the shell of his ear, my lips curving into a smile as his fingers tighten against the skin of my outer thighs.

He's already hard when I reach down between us and into his shorts, and his hips flex as I touch him gently, barely grazing the smooth, hot skin he so desperately wants me to touch. Leaning back a little, I watch his lips stretch into a sly grin as he watches me, his eyes dancing between my face and my fingers as they make short work of button-fly on his shorts.

When he licks his bottom lip, the soft, pink skin disappearing between his teeth, I almost cave right there and kiss him.

Electricity crackles between our lips as they dance dangerously close together, and as much as I'd love to lean forward half an inch and taste them, I hold back; teasing him with a kiss on his chin instead, my teeth grazing his stubble-rough skin.

His head rolls back against the sofa as I squeeze him, and he groans, slow and quiet, looking down at me through his lashes, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His mouth falls open a little as I make another pass with my thumb, and his head snaps up, his lips seeking mine.

Smirking, I move away, and kiss the warm skin of his throat, working him into a panting, grunting frenzy beneath me. When I kiss the spot beside his mouth, he chuckles quietly, thinking I've given in. But I turn away just in time, and my cheek catches his searching kiss instead.

Expletives slip from his mouth, his frustration evident in the way he grunts softly as I work my hand faster. He's holding me so tight there's barely any room between us. But I manage anyway, and before long he's trying to find something to do with his hands; alternating between gripping my hips and the couch cushion behind his head. When I start rocking forward a little; my hand working him faster, his grip on my thighs tightens, and his mouth falls open just a little.

I can see the tip of his tongue behind his lips, and I want so much to kiss him as my name tumbles from his pretty mouth.

With his fingers under the hair at the nape of my neck, he draws me close. He's panting, almost writhing beneath me. "Fucking kiss me."

So I do.

He comes, grunting softly against my mouth and coating my hand and his stomach as we kiss; teeth and lips and tongue smashed together.

Breathing hard, Edward flops back against the couch. "Fucking hell. I'm bringing you food more often."

Kissing him quickly on the cheek, I stand up and duck into the bathroom, washing my hands. When I get back, Edward has already cleaned up and there's a container of rice open in front of him. With a mouthful of food, and sparkly-sated eyes, he leans to the side and kisses me.

He's cute and he knows it.

With just over forty-eight hours until the Rip Curl Pro, Edward has been at the beach with Emmett all day, every day. The school holidays are over and tourists have gone back to regular life, but now the competition brings a new influx of people into town. Gone are the sun-seeking families and grubby-fingered children; the town is now swamped with pro surfing officials, sponsorship teams, trainers and surfers from every corner of the world. Of course, with the international surfing stars come their beach bunny fans. I've pretended not to see the groups of girls watching Emmett and Edward from the sand each morning, but pretending they're not here doesn't make the urge to bitch-slap them go away.

Edward spent some time during the week packing up his stuff at his mum and dad's, putting some things into storage, and leaving other more important things – like his extra boards - with Jasper. It's in those moments that I remember he's leaving for a little while.

We've had brief conversations about our future, but the second it gets heavy, we both wuss-out and change the subject. It's become a vicious cycle that both of us are aware of, but for some reason are too chicken-shit to do anything about. And as relaxed as I usually am with this stuff, I'm finding that the closer we get to him leaving, the more it's beginning to eat away at me. The not knowing. It's not just the fact that he's leaving now; it's the fact that my unspoken feelings for him have become this heavy weight resting deep inside my chest. The more time I spend with him, the more this thing inside me claws at my insides, screaming to get out. It rattles my ribs and beats at my heart, begging me just to tell him, to say something. And with just days to go, and very little time alone in between, it's literally now or never.

Picking at a cold spring roll, I swallow my pride and apprehension, and decide to broach the subject before Emmett and Rosie come home. The DVD flashes a few shots of some beautiful, buff surfer girl, complete with a great ass and golden-brown skin.

"She's pretty."

He shrugs. "She's alright."

"Nice legs."

When he doesn't reply, I press on. "I guess it'd be nice to have a girl who surfed more, like Rosie?"

Tearing his eyes away from the screen briefly, he looks at me for a moment. "You surf."

I nibble at a piece of fried spring roll wrapper. "Not well though."

Turning back to the movie, Edward shrugs. "You'll be right. Almost there."

"Yeah, but that chick's hot and she surfs, that's kind of two for two."

Edward just shakes his head, snorting.

"Would you kiss her?"

His head whips around and his eyes widen. "What? Who? Rosie?"

I sigh, frustrated. "No, the surfer chick."

He's looking at me like I've lost my fucking mind. "Why would I want to kiss her?"

Combing my hands through the ends of my hair, I shrug, looking down as my fingers get caught in a knot. "I dunno. What if you're in Brazil or something, and she wanted to kiss you." I'm such an idiot, and I know it. "Would you?"

Edward turns his body to face mine. I think he's just figured out what I'm trying to do. "Are you serious right now?" I shrug slowly, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Were you here ten minutes ago? I don't want to kiss anyone else."

We're silent for a heartbeat, and I shuffle forward on the carpet a little. "So, I know I said I didn't want to be your girlfriend or whatever. But-" I take a breath, holding it in, and then let my words out in one long exhale. "I think I changed my mind."

Edward doesn't even flinch. "You want to be my girlfriend?" he asks quietly, ducking his head to meet my eyes. He's smirking a little, and I want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

I nod, feeling silly.

"You know you're practically my girlfriend already though, right?"

Sighing, I nod again. "I know. I just wanted you to know that I'm not totally averse to being labelled anymore. Actually, I kind of want the label."

"Well, what would you prefer? Ball and chain? The missus?"

"I like missus, maybe even old lady. Girlfriend would also be okay, or just Bella."

He slips an arm over my shoulder, resting it on the sofa cushions as he goes back to watching TV. He's trying to play it cool, but I can see the corners of his mouth twitching – he's just itching to break out that gut-busting smile of his.

"So I can tell everyone you're my girlfriend now?"

Hearing him say it like that makes my stomach flutter. My answer is quiet, but sure. "Yeah."

"And you won't get freaked out and kick me out of bed?"

I slap him on the arm, feeling instantly guilty. "That was one time!"

"I'm kidding!"

We sit in silence for a little while, still waiting for Em and Rosie to turn up.

Well, the conversation with Edward didn't go exactly as I'd planned, but it's a start.

As late evening breaks, I find myself sleepy, my head resting on Edward's shoulder.

"I can feel you watching me."

"I'm so not watching you sleep."

I crack an eye open, catching him looking down at me. He turns his head quickly, but he knows he's been caught.

"You're such a creep."

"You're the girlfriend of a creep, what does that make you?"

"Are you going to keep saying that now?"

Lifting my head, I stretch my arms up, groaning into a long yawn. Edward takes the opportunity to tuck himself under my arms as they come down, sliding in close and wrapping his arms around me.

"I can't help it if you're cute when you sleep. Girlfriend."

"Yeah, okay." I'm totally bluffing, he can keep saying that as much as he likes.

He leans forward until I'm flat on my back, my hips pressed into the carpet. "It's going to be weird waking up alone when I go."

"And going to bed alone." I smirk. "Well…at least you'll have old righty there."

"It's not the same though. Nothing feels like you do."

Lifting my hips to press against his, I feel him harden against my thigh.

"Your brother will be home soon." My tone holds a warning, but my body says otherwise, my skin flushing with heat as his fingers slip under the denim of my shorts, pressing against my underwear covered heat.

"He'll be right."

At the touch of his hand to the tender flesh between my legs, I wince, squeezing my legs together.

"Oh! I'm a little sore."

He looks disappointed. "Aw. Really?"

I nod. "I think last night finally wore me out." I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner. "I need a little time to recover."

"I distinctly remember round two being your idea," he argues.

"It was."

Resting his arms on either side of my head, Edward leans down to kiss me softly. I'd thought that kissing Edward would be something I would get used to. That the dizzy feeling I get would subside with time; but it hasn't. His kisses still make my pulse race and my palms sweat, and if that feeling never stops, I'll be the happiest girl alive. As the taste of him floods my senses, I can't help but draw my leg up against his hip, trying to get as close to him as possible. His lips are soft against mine, his tongue brushing mine with gentle sincerity.

I didn't think it was possible to actually swoon until I met Edward. But as his kisses migrate south, over the bones of my décolletage, and over my shirt to the sliver of skin above my shorts, I think I actually swoon. My head spins as heat rushes my body, and a contented, blissed-out, turned-on sigh escapes my lungs.

He takes his time kissing the skin of my stomach, my muscles clenching reflexively as he hits a few ticklish spots.

"No—" I giggle loudly as his head disappears under my shirt, his face between my boobs. "I don't think Emmett needs to see—fuck, Edward—us getting naked and stuff." He's pulled my bikini top down, his tongue and lips working one nipple while he palms the other. Every flick and roll of his tongue against me sends bolts of warmth through my body.

"Nah, we've got time," he says as his head pops out, my t-shirt up around my midsection as he continues his descent. "Plenty of time," he murmurs as his fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts, slipping the button through the hole with ease.

Edward grins down at me as he moves the zipper down slowly. "Well, well, well. Hello old friends." He presses his face between my hip bones, rubbing his cheek against my strawberry printed undies.

"I think they missed you," I squeak as his lips dust a line of kisses across the thin elastic at the top.

"Do you know how much restraint it took that morning not to take a peek under that sheet?" He looks up at me from between my legs, and I can't help but reach out and brush my fingers over the short hairs on his head as my mind trips back to that morning, and the incredible hangover I'd nursed.

My heart skips a beat as I think back to that morning; to waking up with him beside me, that devastating grin on his face. "Man, you had me so spun that morning."

"You've had me spun since that day on the beach," he murmurs, almost purring as I scratch my nails over his scalp.

"Really?"

He hums in the affirmative, eyes slipping closed as he rests his cheek on my hip. His next words are quiet, his voice low and thick with emotion.

"I'm going to miss you so fucking much."

I look down. His eyes are still closed, but there's a slight crease between his brows, his lips puckered a little.

"I'm going to miss you too."

I love you I love you I LOVE you.

He takes a long, deep breath, opening his eyes and looking up at me. "We can do it though, right?"

Shifting my knees a little, I nudge him until he scoots up, his head on my chest, his body stretched out on the floor beside me. "Of course we can."

His arm tightens across my stomach as he nuzzles his face against the material of my t-shirt, and I clutch him to me almost desperately in an attempt to assuage not only his worries, but mine.

On the floor, curled into each other, is how Rosie and Emmett find us half an hour later.

"Ugh," groans Emmett. "Get a room."

We sit up, blinking away sleepy eyes. Rosie and Emmett are practically mirror images of Edward and me. When they're not on the beach, they're at Esme and Carlisle's, having taken Edward's room out the back since he's always here with me.

Edward perks up a little at his brother's appearance. "Hey, guys, have you met my girlfriend, Bella? This is Bella – my girlfriend." He throws an arm over my shoulder, tucking me into his side.

Emmett looks confused. "Yeahhh-what? Are you high?"

Smug, Edward shakes his head, looking down at our interlaced hands.

Rosie doesn't miss a beat though. She nudges Edward a little as she passes. "Nice work, Ed."

"Movie starts at six-thirty," she says as she brushes past me, squeezing my hand gently. Squeezing back, I return her smile.

"So can I get a tattoo with your name?" Edward asks, tapping his bicep.

- 'Still Filthy' - a surfing video, apparently one of the best. If you want something a little prettier to look at, try YouTubing 'Way of the Ocean'.

- 'He'll be right.' - just to clarify, this is not a grammatical error. Again, we're lazy.

My girls Tiff, Thimbles and Ink are like sunshine. And big ass thank you to everyone still reading and reviewing. I'm getting to replies. I am. Sort of. Okay, I suck. But I freakin love you guise, okay?

xx Wink