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Word Prompt: Catastrophe

Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about a rainy Monday.

Charlie runs from the dining room, dragging an amused Sue along behind her. She's anxious to show off the new bed linens I got her, a spontaneous little gift for doing so well her first week at school.

Dad settles back in his chair, smiling in well fed contentment. He and Sue usually come over for dinner a couple of times a month, which is a nice respite from our hectic lives. I've had to learn to carve out time for rest and relaxation - and, lately, yoga with Rose - because otherwise I'll run myself ragged. I get it from my father - he's as busy as I am with work.

"Bella," he begins, smirking at his napkin. "Who's Edward?"

My chest squeezes uncomfortably. "Emmett's friend?"

"You asking or telling?" he teases, glancing up at me.

"You probably know him," I say, shrugging. "He and Em went to school together. Remember? They were in the same fraternity with Mike?"

"Ah, the trust fund kid," he says, smoothing his fingers over his mustache. "Thought he was overseas, playing sports."

"He was. He, uh, tore his ACL and came home to recoup for awhile."

He cringes in sympathy. "Those don't always heal properly. He plan on playing again, or is he done?"

As always, this topic makes me feel so conflicted. Part of me wants to see Edward happy and doing what he does best - play. The other part of me is selfish, and knows that soccer would probably take him away again.

I've tried...really tried... not to care, but it seems my feelings have a momentum all their own.

"I don't know," I say, eventually. "He wants to. Says it's his goal."

Dad nods thoughtfully.

I push my fork through the leftovers on my plate. "Anyway, why do you ask?"

"About Edward?"

"Yes."

"Charlie must have mentioned him twelve times between the grocery store and here."

Closing my eyes, I shake my head. "She...might be a little infatuated."

"Judging by your red face, I say you might be, too."

"Dad."

"Just callin' it like I see it, Bella," he chuckles.

Grimacing, I stand to clear the table, shooing him off when he tries to help. Ignoring me, he grabs what I leave behind and follows me into the kitchen. "He a nice guy?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Why surprisingly?"

"Because." I slide the dishwasher open and start loading. "Sometimes professional athletes can be a little...full of themselves." As if I know so many. "But he's not."

"All the same, you be careful, all right?"

If I was any more careful I'd be wearing a chastity belt, but I just nod. "I know."

Monday morning dawns dark and rainy. It makes getting out of bed nearly impossible, but I manage, yawning through a shower and my morning routine. My kid's as chipper as ever, chattering all through breakfast and on the way to preschool. I swear, if I could bottle her energy, I wouldn't need coffee.

Once I'm on my own, I touch bases with Emmett. We had a busy weekend and there's another coming up, so we're eager to communicate and discuss what went well versus what might need work.

"So what else is new?" I ask somewhat absentmindedly, waiting at a light. It's not like I don't see Emmett all week long.

"Not much...actually, no - Mike!"

"What?"

"Mike. He's dating that girl from the Sadler wedding..."

"The cute little bridesmaid? With the curly hair?"

"Yeah. I guess they ran into each other at Starbucks or something. Crazy, right? I always thought he had a thing for you."

"He did. But generally these things have to be mutual in order for there to be a spark."

"A spark, huh?" Emmett snorts. "Yeah. Okay."

"So." I clear my throat, intent on moving on. "Rose asked me to babysit tonight. Said you were going out?"

"Right, yeah. Our anniversary's Sunday, but we're gonna be all wrapped up in the gala downtown."

"Ugh; don't remind me."

"Maggie's helping you this time - no arguments."

"I know, I know."

"But, so, you can watch the kids tonight? I want to bring Rose to that new steakhouse she was talking about."

"Of course. You guys watch Charlie all the time."

We lull into a comfortable pause. I want to ask about Edward, because I haven't seen him in a few days, but I'm reluctant. Em knows there's a vibe between his friend and me - even if Rose wasn't all up in the sauce, he isn't blind - but verbalizing it will be awkward.

But I have no self control, so, "How's Edward?"

"Good, I guess. He's in LA."

"Oh..."

"Guess he's got friends down there. He's been gone all weekend, but I think he gets back tomorrow."

I'm surprised at how disappointed this makes me.

Because if I'm honest with myself, Edward and I are nothing more than acquaintances. Our connection is a direct result of Emmett, and beyond that, there's nothing. This is a painful realization, given that I put a lot of mental energy into thinking about him, and suddenly I'm embarrassed.

I might think of him all the time, but I doubt he thinks of me. Because if he did, he would have told me he was leaving town.

Right?

Does it even matter, Bella?

By nine o'clock, the children are asleep, sprawled out on blankets and sleeping bags in Charlie's room. Charlie's bedtime is eight, but it was impossible to quiet her down with Makenna and Embry riling her back up.

My living room is a catastrophe, the floor covered beneath Lincoln logs, Barbies, blocks and Charlie's DVD collection. Normally I have little patience for this crap, but tonight getting the wild beasts down was more important than making them clean up their mess. I'm nearly done restoring order when the doorbell rings, startling me.

Em and Rose aren't due back for another couple of hours, so I hope everything is okay. Glancing at my cell phone to make sure I didn't miss any calls or texts, I look through the peep hole.

And then, thanking God I didn't change into my PJs, I open the door to Edward. He's damp, from the rain, and wearing the hell out of these really great jeans...great on him, at least... and a jacket. He looks very...L.A. In a good way. Man, in such a good way.

"Hey, Edward."

"Hey. I hope it's not too late..."

Swallowing, I nod and wave him in. "I thought you were out of town."

His eyes are red, like he's stoned or just extremely sleep deprived. "I just got in." He looks at his phone, wincing at the clock. "Shit, it is late. I'm sorry, Bella."

I touch his arm. "It's fine. Come on."

We navigate through the living room, careful to step around Zookeeper Barbie and her menagerie. "So...is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to go home just yet."

That kickstarts my heart, and I mean it's pounding. Zero to sixty, like that. Ugh.

"Okay." I nod like a bobble head. "Do you want a cup of coffee? Tea?" Or me?

"Why, were you going to have some?"

I was going to have a glass of wine, but I can't be held responsible for my actions if I mix alcohol and Edward.

"Yeah," I lie. "Tea. Chamomile. It's, you know, relaxing. Not that you need relaxing."

"I'm all about relaxing."

I peek at him again. "Are you high?"

"No," he laughs. "Haven't touched that since college. Why, do I look high?" He gets up and wanders to a decorative mirror I have hanging on the wall. "I look like shit."

"Yeah, you're hideous." Rolling my eyes, I make my way into the kitchen. "So chamomile's okay?"

"If that's what you're having."

"You don't have to be so polite, you know," I huff. "Just, say what you want."

"I hate chamomile."

"I bet you hate hot dogs, too," I mutter, retrieving a box of mint tea. "This okay?"

"More than okay. Thanks," he says, folding his arms as he leans against the counter. "And I do like hot dogs. You make good ones."

Trying to ignore how his presence makes me shaky inside, I pour water into the kettle and set it to boil. Edward sets a little bag down on the counter beside me.

I pick it up, peeking inside. "What's this?"

"Open it."

It's a coffee mug with Peppa the Pig's face on it. It's stupid-cute, and it makes me smile from the inside out. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"I'd say it was for Charlie, but, she doesn't drink coffee, does she?"

Biting my lip, I look up at him. "Thanks."

Nodding, he begins wadding the bag up.

And I just, I have to know. I'm not good at this in-between stuff. I thought I was, but I'm not. "How come...you didn't mention you were leaving?"

He cocks his head, aiming that laser gaze right at me. "I guess I didn't think it mattered? It was just a couple of days."

I nod, knowing it's true.

"Didn't think you'd notice," he adds.

"I noticed."

Putting down the bag, he takes a step closer. And then another. We look at each other for longer than what's appropriate, and I know he's going to kiss me. It will be dreamy, and unreal, and it might be the best kiss I've ever had, and it might be the last time I see him because things like this don't happen, but -

He leans in, putting his hands on either side of me, resting them on the counter top. We're not even touching, but there's intimacy in this closeness... and it's causing such a ruckus in me. He's so close I can smell him - faint cologne, detergent - and see the circles under his eyes. But I can also how pretty those green eyes are, how intently they regard me.

You should model, Edward. You're gorgeous.

He's asking questions with those eyes. I hope he sees the big, blinking yes in mine.

Bending close, he brushes his nose against mine. My eyes close. Our lips, finally, touch. He kisses me very slowly, lips soft against mine. Over and over. I reach up, sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck.

He very gently bites my bottom lip. The sweet sharpness of it makes me breathe a little harder, and he slips his tongue into my mouth.

The kettle goes off after a minute, but he just shoves it off the burner and goes back to kissing me, finally pushing his whole body against mine.

do me a favor and listen to This Wild Life's "Sleepwalking". it's…very this edward and bella. ok? ok.

much love. thank you, so very much, for every review. i love it. love it!

xoxoxo