A/N: I'm going bush til Monday, so I'm updating early. Hope you enjoy, and thanks to Kim, Melinda and Biebs.
xoxo

Chapter 12

Hoodwinked

I fall asleep. Against him.

I have no idea why. Maybe it's because it's been a long, stressful week with exams, and an even longer one of getting reacquainted with Edward and all his smartassery. Maybe because with the air-conditioning so cold Edward is as equally warm. Or maybe because I'm presently being torn apart by guilt and it's just so much easier to close my eyes against it.

Prior to Mrs Cullen's death, I was as close with Edward as I was with Alice. It was never just me and her like I've been telling myself the last decade. Edward was always a part of "us". The paintings in the treehouse are proof of it, as are the scores of photos of my childhood that I keep in a shoebox at the bottom of my wardrobe. Photos I haven't looked at in years.

Edward was twelve when his mother died, and only months off starting high school. At the time it was easier to reconcile myself with the fact that he was growing older and away from us, but now that I think about it, I realise that wasn't the reason, at all. He pulled back suddenly after his mother's death, and I allowed him to. All my energy was spent in consoling Alice that I completely ignored him. What's evident now is he was in so much pain and he had no one. Alice was no good to anyone, his father completely distanced himself from him, and I was happy in the illusion he didn't want me around.

For the first twelve months after, Edward was stony around me. I often caught him glaring at me, and when he teased me, it was with an edge of malice. He was calling me "snotface" for two years prior, and yeah, he was putting bugs down my shirt and tripping me over, but it was always from a context of childish affection; the same way I used to call him "beanstalk" and "Lankenstein". Childish affection that quickly turned to indifference the further he distanced himself from me. Until it became straight out torture.

He resented me; it's the only conclusion I can make. I abandoned him when he needed me, and it took him years to forgive; if he even has.

I couldn't meet his gaze again, but this time it wasn't because he had me flustered—despite him assuming so—but because of the shame that was beginning to trickle through me. So, I fell asleep against the warmth of his chest while inside I was crying.

He likes to pretend he's fine and too thick-skinned to ever be affected by anything, but for that one brief moment his mask slipped and I saw genuine hurt behind those normally crafty eyes of his.

. . .

My mother wakes us up sometime after three with coffee, and a B12 vitamin for me. I'm honestly surprised she didn't leave condoms, as well, but after a quick greeting to the two of us, she quietly leaves the room.

Swinging his long legs to the side of my bed, Edward runs his palm down his face to rouse himself, then picks up the mug closest to him and takes a sip. He groans lowly half beneath his breath and turns to glance at me; a slow grin tugging on his lips. "You are such a lightweight."

"What's that mean?" I speak to the coffee I clutch in both my hands.

He drapes a heavy arm around my shoulders and nudges me to him. "You're still recovering from Saturday night, aren't you?" Is his guess, and there's laughter in his voice.

"Yeah," I lie, but I woke up this morning energised with all traces of my hangover gone.

"You said my name in your sleep, you know," he adds close to my ear, as I immediately straighten.

"I did not," I reply cynically.

He arches a dubious brow. "You reckon?"

I roll my eyes but don't bother responding.

"When are you just going to admit it?" He nudges me again.

"Admit what?"

"That you're in love with me." His eyes twinkle and that ever constant grin of his quickly overshadows his still-drowsy-from-sleep expression.

I break into a half a smile and exhale past it. "If I ever am you'll be the first to know."

"Alice think you are," he probes.

"Alice thinks you're in love with me, too."

"Hm..." He releases his arm from around me to rub his chin, weighing it up. "Fair point."

"Besides, you told me I wasn't allowed to get all needy and attached to you," I teasingly remind him.

"I say a lot of things..." he replies, his eyes locking with mine for a pause too long.

"...What...?" I begin blankly as he flicks my forehead.

"I'm starving. Want to go eat?" he puts to me as I shake my head.

"I have my chemistry exam to study for," I murmur, my eyes falling to my carpeted floor.

"Come on," he says with a sigh, completely dismissing me and grabbing my hand. "An hour won't hurt."

I don't bother arguing, and to be honest, I really don't want to. At this point, how I'm feeling, if he asked me to have sex right now I probably would. Guilt can be profitable, so it's probably best I don't let on too much. I wouldn't put it past him to take full advantage.

He pulls the both of us to our feet and leads me out into the hall. "See ya, Mrs Swan." He raises his chin and smiles for the benefit of my mother who smiles back and half winks.

"By, hon," she replies before her gaze switches to me. "Let's talk later, sweetie."

"Okay." I want to groan but don't; there's something alien in my mother's tone. Something almost...parental.

"So, what's going on?" Edward asks after practically giving me a leg up into his car and pulling himself into the driver's side. "You're going all virgin again."

"I am a virgin," I say with a small smile.

"If you really wanted to get rid of it you wouldn't put any conditions on it. You'd just hand it over to the good-looking shithead next door." He clears his throat suggestively and in emphasis, as I turn to stare at him in horror.

"How...Alice!" I burst as my face flames.

"She blabbed that out, too." He snickers.

"Christ!" I snap. Alice has no filter. Like zero.

"So, you think I'm good-looking?" He pointedly coughs this time as a completely self-satisfied grin forms across his face.

"I already told you I did, you idiot!" I exclaim, but I'm unusually good-natured about it; enough that Edward's brow immediately quirks.

"When?" he asks after a pause.

"In the car on the way to the movies? When you said I'm a nine out of ten—remember?" I refresh his memory.

"Ah..."

"So, are you in love with me?" I tease him. "Hm?"

"You wish," he replies with a smirk.

I scoff softly and beneath my breath. "You are so up yourself."

"The difference is, I don't refer to you as the virgin hottie when you're not around."

"Huh?" I say blankly.

"When you refer to someone in those terms behind their back, it usually means you're in love with them."

"It does not," I counter. "You can acknowledge someone's good-looking without meaning you're in love with them." And let's face it, he is a good-looking shithead.

"I'll make you a deal," he proposes.

"No."

"Tell me you're in love with me and I'll take that virgin problem of yours away," he continues on regardless.

I release a semi exasperate breath. "It's not a problem," I reiterate. "We had a bet and you lost—period. I'm sure Lauren will throw her legs open for you considering she's so bent out of shape over us." It comes out more passionately than I intended; something Edward notices.

"Touchy."

"You're obsessed with me being in love with you!" I point out. "Sure Alice isn't right?"

"Oh, she's right. About you." He turns to me and winks.

I break into a full smile and shake my head. "You wish."

He chuckles just barely beneath his breath, but doesn't answer.

"I wouldn't lay a finger on her again, by the way. Not even if the bitch was choking in front of me and she needed me to Heimlich her," he speaks up after a few minutes of appearing lost in thought with a hard edge to his voice.

I turn to him; he's frowning and his expression is beginning to cloud. "I don't blame you."

"She was shit in bed—lied there like a fucking corpse," he mutters more or less to himself, but I'm repulsed and more than a little tense.

"Um, okay, that was more than I needed to hear."

"I used to close my eyes and pretend she was Jessica Alba." He breaks into a broad grin, and despite myself I join him.

"I remember how into her you were, and Mila Kunis."

"Yeah, I like dark eyes," he says a little too softly, and it takes a moment for it to register with me.

I gaze at him for a pause, my mind turning vacant. He's continuing to smile to himself like he usually does, but he's not giving anything away.

"Are you messing with me?" I put to him cynically.

"Not everything is about you, snotface," he replies lightly his smirk twitching broader.

I only groan to myself, but let it go.

Edward drives to the mall and drags me to the Italian restaurant off the courtyard. We find a seat outside in the shade. He orders pizza, and while I eat two slices, he finishes off the rest.

"I have no idea how you're so fit when you eat so much," I wonder out loud, but I do know, really. He's always punching that boxing bag in his room; something Renee felt the need to inform me of last night, and something I've witnessed personally through his bedroom window from my backyard.

"Good genes," he says slapping his stomach. "Bella?"

"What?" I ask, propping my elbow on the table and resting my chin in my palm.

"What's going on?" He tilts his head and scrutinises me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, puzzled.

"You're all...compliant."

I almost laugh, for want of a better response, anyway. "I still have no idea what you're on about."

"You haven't got all bent out of shape with me once. It's not like you."

"Do you want me to?" I tease him, as a small smile tugs on his lips.

"Yeah, I like you fighting with me."

"I know you do," I say wryly.

"So, why are you—geez, I don't even think there's a word for it," he mumbles.

"Compliant?"

"And really...relaxed. You tired?"

"Kinda," I shrug, breaking his gaze, because I know what he's getting at.

"You'll be done tomorrow," he points out the obvious.

"Yeah..."

"You decided what you want to do?" he asks, taking a large gulp of his coke.

"I'm going to wait to see what mark I get," I reply.

"Teacher?" he suggests behind a cheeky grin.

"God, no," I immediately object.

"Hm..." he appears to ponder it. "Nurse?"

"I'm...not good with people," I admit awkwardly, folding my arms across the table and staring down at them.

"You're good with me," he reminds me.

"You and Alice are the only ones."

"And your old lady."

I flash him a funny look. "She's my mother."

"It's strange to see you so shy. You're such a pain in the neck, I forget."

"Very funny," I say dryly. "I was thinking, maybe...an ultrasound tech." I shrug. "I-I don't know..."

"Yeah...?" he says after gauging me for several moments. "How many more years of school is that?"

"Four."

"Fuck that..." he mutters, openly shuddering to himself.

"You're still going to school, as well—TAFE?" I raise a brow in emphasis, and he shrugs a shoulder.

"Yeah, but it's for carpentry. I don't consider it school. Bella?"

"What?" I ask; he looks troubled.

"You're really acting weird."

"So, you want me to fight with you, is that it?" I ask with a sigh.

"Well, yeah. It turns me on."

"...What?" I utter, shaking my head to myself in complete bewilderment.

He laughs through his nose and wholly at my expense, because no matter how I respond to him he's forever a shithead; it's just who he is. "Seriously, you were okay before we crashed, and now you're...nice."

"Nice?" I echo. "I'm always nice," I state a little too hotly, until I realise he's messing with me again. "Oh my god."

He laughs easily. "Sure you didn't have a hot dream about me?" His brows raise suggestively as I bury my face in my hands.

"Can you stop?" I murmur from behind them.

"Okay, but you have to kiss me."

"...What?" I remove my hands and stare at him; at a complete loss with him.

His eyes shoot discreetly to the side of us in emphasis; I follow his gaze to the group of people several feet away. People from my year, I quickly realise. Half of whom are gazing curiously at me and Edward.

"He's not there, is he?" I ask.

"No," he replies with half a shrug. "Kiss me."

I break into an immediate smile. "You like kissing me, don't you?"

"Yeah," he jokes as if it's self-evident. "Plus, we need more practice, and they're all staring."

"I know..." I say with a heavy breath; it's making me uncomfortable.

He pointedly clears his throat in reminder, and with a resigned breath I lean forward over the table and meet his lips briefly.

"Can I grab your tits?" he whispers against my ear making me all but shove him backwards.

"No!" I demand in a harsh whisper. "Who does that in public even if they are...together?"

"Me," he admits, with a cheeky grin.

"I know you would," I say knowingly, smiling without being fully aware of it, and something Edward immediately zeroes in on.

"Geez, all this polite shit... You really are in love with me."

I drop my brow into my hand and groan in exasperation. "Okay," I decide, glancing up at him. "Hypothetically, say I was..."

"Hypothetically?" he echoes, quirking a sceptical brow.

"Shut up and play along."

He grins and appears to contemplate it for a moment, but it's obvious he's only humouring me. "Hmm... I suppose I'd stick around for a while and see what happens."

"...What?" I ask, and he's well and truly stumped this time because that was not what I was expecting.

"So, let's give it six months," he adds.

"What?" I repeat, beginning to feel dazed from sheer bewilderment.

"Longer? Okay, twelve then."

"What are you on about?"

"You want to go out for real. I'm open." He shrugs again while can I only stare at him at a total loss.

"What part of hypothetical don't you understand?"

"Bella... You were fully prepared to give me your virginity. I'm not an idiot. As weepy as you are it was a huge red flag."

"...I'm not..." I say weakly, becoming flustered again as he flashes me that completely irritating dubious brow.

"Righto..." he drawls.

"You're an asshole!" I huff.

"Ah...she's back—thank fuck. Nice snotface creeps me out."

"Edward!" I snap, past patience.

"Bella!" he imitates me.

"Okay," I say abruptly, slamming my palms to the table and getting to my feet. "I have to get home and study."

"Okay, hold your tits," he replies, rising from the chair and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. That's when I notice it; he has a picture of me in the photo pocket.

"Is that...me?" I ask, not quite sure what to make of it.

He gazes at me strangely, obviously unsure of my meaning, before his eyes snap to his wallet. "Well, yeah," he says as simply. "You're my girlfriend, aren't you?"

"...But...?"

"Midget gave it to me," he explains. "Come on—Geez, you're needy." He grabs my hand to pull me inside the restaurant where he pays the bill.

"Six months, and if we're no longer pretending you don't have to make bets with me," he continues his method of torture over me as we head back to the underground parking lot.

"I'm sorry I said anything," I mutter.

"Three months trial period with no sex. Final offer," he puts to me, pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock his car.

"Beating a dead horse, Edward," I say wryly, deciding not to let him bait me. I'm still feeling guilty; despite how much he's beginning to frustrate me again.

Taking my upper arm he helps me inside the passenger side, and after sliding behind the wheel, he turns to me. "I'd never give you shit over something like that." He almost sounds serious, or maybe he's completely serious but I'm just not used to it.

"Yet, you'd agree to go out with me..." I specify, arching a pointed brow; he doesn't catch on.

"Yeah, and...?"

"People usually only agree to go out with someone if they have feelings for them," I explain my meaning.

"I do have feelings for you," he says, again entirely too casually.

"Huh...?" This guy. He makes me feel completely clueless.

"Yeah," he breaks into a grin, "you're my snotface." He grabs my nose between his second and third finger playfully, before I shove his hand away.

"Edward, Jesus. You're confusing me!"

"How?" he asks, starting his car and reversing out.

"I... I have no bloody idea. You just are!" I burst with impatience.

"You're getting bent out of shape again..." he alludes, back in full smartarse mode again with his grin turning inward.

"You wanted me to!"

"I know."

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?" he turns to me, and I realise he completely enjoying this.

"Are you messing with me?"

"What do you mean?" He feigns innocence.

"So, hypothetically, you'd agree to go out with me for real if I admitted to being in love with you." I quote with my fingers.

"Yeah, so...?"

"But..."

"But..." he mocks me.

"Why?"

"I realised I enjoy all this pretending shit," he says, scoffing through his nose, on the verge of laughter.

"Is that all?" I demand, exasperated.

"Well, no. You're a decent kisser when you're not deliberately being all virgin." He does laugh this time, without even bothering to conceal it from me.

"This isn't funny—what if I was in love with you!?" I screech. "You're being a completely insensitive shithead! Christ, I can't believe I felt bad for you!"

"Bad about what?" he asks, his expression quirking with obvious confusion.

"You! After your mother died, I wasn't there for you!" I blurt out before I can stop myself, and as expected Edward's mindset immediately shifts.

Turning his attention back to the road, a frown encompasses his face. "No, you weren't," he agrees in a quiet voice, "but you were a kid."

"I... I never realised," I confess. "You...I don't know..." I abandon it with a deep-seated sigh, feeling suddenly helpless. And culpable.

"Is that why you've been acting so weird?" he asks, his eyes focused ahead of him as his jaw clenches.

"Yeah."

"Well, don't," he says lowly.

"I'm sorry," I offer meekly.

"I don't want any apologies, either."

"I'm still sorry," I say gently, because I am. "I just...I can't believe I just abandoned you like that."

"Bella..." he complains, releasing a hand from the steering wheel to rub his forehead with his fingertips heavily. "Stop that."

"You were angry at me."

"Bella."

"I deserved it."

"Jesus!" he explodes, turning to me. "What part of you thinks I was to talk about that shit?"

"Do you forgive me?" I ask delicately.

"Do you want me to throw you out?" he threatens me; though, he's not serious.

"Do you?" I press him.

He sighs audibly. "Of course, I forgive you," he relents. "I don't want your pity, okay? So, knock that bullshit off now."

"Okay," I mumble. "Edward...?"

"Yeah?" he says sounding increasingly exasperated.

"I'll give you a do over."

A/N: Flounce, review, flame... Whatever's your poison.