A/N: I have been in a serious funk with these two, but - and I don't want to jinx myself - I think the drought might be broken. I just had to hash out a few things and I think I've got it now. Ugh, I hate writer's block. Hate. It. Mate! Thanks for being patient with me, I hope this one makes up for my mini hiatus.
Hoodwinked
Chapter 23
Edward arrives early. My mother wanted to take photos and she somehow got the message to him. I suspect she might have his number again, but right now, it's the furthest thing from my mind.
He looks devastating. I've never seen him in a suit before. It's black, well cut and tailored, and slim fitting. It makes him look taller. And broader. And even more good-looking.
He's had his hair cut; he must have got it done sometime after he dropped me home. His natural red highlights are more pronounced when it's short, and it's one of the main reasons he keeps it a little bit too long and unruly. He hates the idea of having red hair even though it's not considered red in the classical sense. It's a chestnut brown that gets streaked with gold in the summer.
It was lighter when he was younger; the kids called him "wranger", but only once. No one mocked him and walked away to do it again back then. Or now, for that matter.
My mouth actually fell open when I saw him. He smirked, of course, and I'm not sure whether it was over my reaction to him, or his reaction to me. My dress is slim-fitting as well—across the bodice at least—with off the shoulder sleeves in blood red chiffon. It falls to just below my knees in double layers, slightly longer in the back, and it flatters the lesser parts of my body; namely my deficient chest area.
"Jesus, snotface..." he practically growls into my ear after curving an arm around my waist and drawing me close to him. I tilt my head slightly to accommodate him. He smells entirely too good, and I'm wearing silver, strappy heels that help to somewhat close the height difference between us so I don't have to strain my neck too much. "I need to fuck you in this. And then out of it."
I nudge him gently with my elbow, maintaining the smile on my face for pretences. I'd really like to agree, and later on I will, but my father is watching, and the moment Edward arrived his expression began to darken in obvious disapproval. I'm not sure he'd be surprised by what Edward just said to me, and that's what concerns me.
"Stop it," I murmur, as my mother rushes forward to gush over him.
She kisses him and cups her palms to his face, telling him repeatedly how handsome he is. Edward obliges her, until his amusement begins to be marred by awkwardness. I have to practically drag her off him, and that's when I notice Edward's shoes. He's wearing black and white one star Chucks that don't look nearly as ridiculous with his suit as I would have thought. It's so typically him, though, so I say nothing. I actually kind of like it.
My mother takes several photos of us—from every angle—on the front lawn. The long stretch of heat and humidity has finally broken and the weather's mild, the breeze almost cool. With Edward's arm curled around my waist, though, it's lost on me. I'm warm against him, and to use Alice's phrase, I feel the need to squeeze my legs tightly closed.
I'm sure he's aware of it, but then that smirk of his is a permanent fixture on his face and often times I completely misconstrue it.
Alice and Jas arrive next, and my mother keeps the four of us chatting outside while we wait for the limousine. The driver is picking Rosalie and Emmett up first, and while Alice gets along with Rose, I don't exactly do. It's not that we've ever really spoken; she's just so full of herself I never really had anything to say to her.
And then there's the fact that she's slept with my boyfriend...
I like Emmett, though; it's hard not to. He's the same age as Edward and they both majorly bombed their HCSs and went on to do a trade.
The black stretch arrives five minutes later, and the moment it stops Emmett jumps out.
"Can I use your bathroom?" he asks Edward.
"You can use ours, sweetheart," my mother immediately offers without hiding the fact that she's sizing him up.
"Thanks, Mrs Swan," Emmett replies before he disappears inside, saying a quick hello to my father as he does.
That's when Rose removes herself from the limo and approaches Edward.
"Can we talk?" she asks; though, it's not really a question. She ushers him a few feet to the side, pulling his hand from mine, and then wrapping her arm around his neck, she leans in to whisper something into his ear.
Edward's smile twitches broader and he nods. Rosalie releases him and that seems all there is to it, but I don't like it. Not one bit.
With Emmett back, the chauffeur opens the door and the six of us file inside while my mother continues overzealously snapping pics. Edward and I enter last, and instead of sitting beside Jas and Alice like I expected, he pulls me to the furthest seat at the front. At first, I figured it was so he could feel me up—knowing Edward—until I realised it was because he wanted to be close to the bar fridge.
"I knew you had a thing for Bella," Rosalie notes after we set off for the hour drive into the city.
"Yeah? That obvious?" Edward replies, breaking into a full grin as he drops his hand to my knee.
"Since you could barely tear your eyes from her..." she adds rolling hers, and despite sounding her typical snotty self, a small smile tugs on my lips.
"He's been in love with her since the beginning of time," Alice pipes up, earning a bottle top thrown at her in retaliation. "God, you're a child."
Edward takes a mouthful of the coke he'd taken from the small bar fridge before turning and offering the bottle to me. I take a sip and wrapping his arm around my shoulders he pulls me tight against him.
"You look beautiful," he whispers against my hair. "And you don't smell as fucked up as you did this morning."
I grin, pushing my breath past it and planting my elbow into his ribs. "My mother bought me perfume to celebrate my womanhood."
"We'll celebrate your womanhood tonight," he promises, pulling back and winking with deliberate suggestion. I only sigh good-naturedly as he drops his nose to the curve of my neck and groans languidly. "What is it? Chanel?"
"Coco," I say surprised, turning to meet his gaze. "How'd you guess?"
"I'm a master." When he smiles this time there's something almost raw about it. "Actually..." he softly clears his throat. "My mum used to wear Chanel."
"What are you two whispering about?" Alice pipes up, breaking us from the moment.
"None of your business," Edward answers.
"Leave her alone," I chide him, and his grin this time is genuine.
"Hey?"
"Yeah."
"Stop getting bent out of shape."
"Huh?" My brow knots with confusion. "I'm not—about what?"
"You know about what..." His voice lowers as he very subtly tilts his head in Rosalie's direction.
I huff this time as a cover for my rapidly flushing face. I keep forgetting how well he knows me. In fact, I don't think I ever realised he could read me so well. "I'm not," I repeat, sounding wholly unconvincing.
He bends his head closer to me and plants his lips to my ear. "She was making sure I don't spill to Emmett about her drunken secret," he whispers covertly, chuckling beneath is breath.
"Ohh..." My reply is a little too long-winded as I attempt not to sound too relieved, while my gaze falls almost subconsciously to her.
She flashes me an almost sincere smile. Almost.
"I love your dress, Rose," I attempt to make nice. It's black and way too revealing considering she's not technically a call girl, but only she could pull it off.
"Thank you," she acknowledges simply, and I don't think she's convinced by my sincerity, or like me, she's probably surprised that I'm even talking to her, at all.
I usually don't initiate conversation, but with Edward beside me, I'm tapping in to dormant stores of assertiveness that obviously exist deep within me.
"She looks hot, hey?" Emmett jumps in before Rose can embarrass us both and bring it to my attention.
"Totally," Edward completely fabricates his agreement before leaning toward me to rest his lips to my neck again. "You're hotter," he whispers against my flesh.
I only roll my rolls, smiling discreetly to myself, but don't say anything. There's nothing I can say, and I want him to trust me; trust me that I believe everything he says.
. . .
"So, doesn't Emmett know?" I teasingly pry, after Edward and I exit the limonene and enter the Shangri-La lobby several feet behind Alice and Jas.
Scores of people from school have already arrived, and it's loud enough to mute our conversation. Though as we walk in together, more than half of them turn to openly stare.
Okay, Edward was Mr Popularity when he was at school, while I'm more on the shy, quiet side, but other than that, I fail to see why the sight of us warrants so much gawking.
"Of course, he doesn't know—he'd kick my ass," he admits candidly, and whether he's aware of all the attention centred on us he doesn't make it known.
"Did she cheat on him with you?" I ask, my voice dropping to a near whisper, and I'm glad for the distraction.
He chuckles, his hand squeezing around mine. "Nah, but he's always had a hard on for her."
After following Jas and Alice to the reception desk, we have our names checked off and are directed toward the elevators. The event is being held on the sixth-floor reception room, and when we arrive a DJ is already set up in the corner, blasting music out over the dimly lit, romantically decorated ballroom. White ceiling drapes, adorned with fairy lights, hang from multiple angles to the huge crystal chandelier at its centre, and beyond the expansive wall of windows, the Harbour Bridge and Opera House loom before us against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean.
It's beautiful, and the rapidly filling room is abuzz with excited chatter.
For the most part the floor is carpeted, with hardwood sectioning off the dancefloor, dining area and small area set up for the photographer. On the opposite wall from the DJ is a smorgasbord full of desserts and refreshments, and naturally, this is where Edward immediately heads.
He drags me with him and I watch in amusement as he fills his plate to the brim; picking food off to eat as he does. He offers me bite of his macaroon, and after, his lips are immersed with the taste of sugar.
"Dinner will be served soon," I point out after we find our assigned table and sit down. Jas and Alice are already seated. As are Rose and Emmett, and half a dozen other people from our year.
"I know," Edward replies with a non-committal shrug, shoving a piece of fudge in my mouth when I open it to continue arguing. "Will you shut up?!"
"Edward!" I protest, almost choking.
Of course, he finds the sight of me coughing and spluttering hilarious before he leans in closer to me. "Okay, don't freak out," he murmurs against my ear, "but Lauren's here."
I almost head butt him as my back impulsively straightens and my head snaps up. "What?" I utter, my eyes automatically darting around the room. I find her sitting several tables deep to the right with Newton, his brother, and Jessica, and when my eyes meet hers, she glares at me coldly. I immediately sever them, feeling slightly flustered. "What the hell are they doing here?"
Edward shrugs again, and if he's bothered by their presence I can't tell. "Dunno, but"—curling his arms around me he pulls me out of my chair and onto his lap—"we can have a lot of fun with it." There's a wicked glean in his eyes, and in emphasis he drops his face to the curve of my neck and presses his warm lips to my skin.
Immediately grasping his meaning, I go fluid against him, tilting my head as he plants kisses up along the contour of my neck to my jaw.
In response, and practically on autopilot, I run my hands to cup his face, angle his head to me, and take his lips with mine.
We get slightly carried away with each other, but with Edward, that's becoming an irrefutable rule. I am so drawn to him physically that it's a little too easy to lose myself. At the same time, I can trust him to keep his head, and just when I realize he's rapidly expanding beneath me, he lightens it and brings it down until it eases into being somewhat socially acceptable.
"Stop that." He practically groans lowly, his lips against the base of my neck and shoulder as his hot breath floods over me
"Stop what?" I whisper, struggling to rein in my breath without making it too obvious to outside observers.
"You know what you're doing..." He pulls back to meet my eyes; his are dark, despite his smirk.
Shaking my head to myself in an effort to collect my thoughts, I turn towards Alice. That's when I realise everyone at our table is staring at me in various degrees of shock.
I can only blink blankly, and it takes me a lot longer than it should have to understand why. When I was with Mike, we barely held hands in public, much less engage in foreplay with each other in front of half our year.
With my face rapidly flushing, I move to climb off Edward to my own seat when he prevents me.
"Stay put for a bit longer," he mumbles, the innuendo behind his voice clear; he's still a little too affected.
"Hmm..." I mumble fighting the smile from forming across my face as I wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Why'd you get a haircut?" I ask, running my fingers through his syrupy-coloured hair in an effort to distract myself from what's happening beneath me. And, consequently, what's running through my veins.
"It was too long," he answers simply.
I tug on a strand teasingly. "You look preppy."
He breaks into a grin, and then leaning us both forward he grabs the open can of lemonade sitting on the table before him. "Don't be fooled." He winks and takes a gulp of his drink.
"They don't bother you, do they?" I ask quietly, because the idea of him being hurt by her right now is making me feel as volatile as it does protective.
He scoffs, his brow knotting as if he thinks it's ridiculous. "Why would they? And I like the fact that what she suspected about me was true."
"What did she suspect?"
"That I was into you."
"I like that, as well," I admit, making the smile on Edward's lips turn to a full grin. "But..." My expression falls almost subconsciously.
"But..." he urges me, taking another sip.
"You said you thought you loved her..." I consider it as it spills from my lips, and I decide I don't like it.
And as if he's aware of exactly what's going on in my head, he expels his breath in exasperation. "Bella...stop it."
"Stop...what?" I ask with confusion.
"That was before we were together, remember?" He quirks a brow to stress it further; reminding me of the conversation we've already had.
"Yeah, I know..." I mumble with an inward sigh, glancing down at the hand he has laying casually across my legs.
"I said a lot of shit back then to try and get your attention. That was one of them," he confesses as his shoulder jerks, but I only eye him sceptically.
"Really?" I'm not convinced.
"Yes, really," he imitates me.
I immediately nudge him, before taking a deliberate breath and conceding. "I still don't like the idea of you being with anyone else, but I won't be a pain in the neck over it."
He flashes me a quick grin, his breath shooting from his nose. "I don't mind that you don't like it, 'cause I fucking hated the fact that you were with that deadshit," he angles his face closer to me and speaks covertly, but the intent behind his eyes isn't as ambiguous.
"I... lost sight of you," I admit softly in my continued guilt; at the same time, I'm hoping he'll somehow reciprocate it.
"I know," he replies, his voice tender behind it, and it appears to be his generic answer for his feelings for me.
It's silly, but it disappoints me.
"Hey?" I speak up.
"Hmm?" he replies, the can of lemonade against his mouth.
"I'll make you say it."
"Say what?" he asks, his lips twitching subtly because he knows exactly what I'm referring to.
"I love you," I say, and when he opens his mouth to reply with his usual response of "I know" I clamp my palm over it. "Nope."
"Stop being a pain in the neck," he says brushing my hand aside.
"Repeat after me."
"What...?" he complains.
"I love you too."
"I don't love you too," he says dryly, and while I know he's only teasing me it twinges deep inside my heart.
"I'm going to get off you and expose you to everyone?" I threaten him, but I'm as serious as he is.
"I'll drag your ass into the disabled toilets and fuck you until your ears bleed," he counters a little too loudly.
"Shh!" I blurt, clamping my hand to his mouth again as he laughs lightly behind it.
"Stop, trying to trap me into shit." He pulls my hand free, and while his voice is light, there's an edge to it that suggests he's unimpressed.
"Trap you?" I echo, unable to conceal the pain from my tone.
He sighs heavily and in obvious exasperation. "I don't say those words, you pain in the neck," he leans toward me again and confides practically beneath his breath, "but I feel the same way you do without the need to say it—okay?"
"Why don't you say them?" I ask in a whisper even as I nod my head in answer.
"I told you why," he says, reaching up to rub his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He's frowning. "You forgot?" he pre-empts me.
"Y-yeah..." I admit ashamedly, and while I can somewhat remember the conversation, I can't recall the context. Edward and I always talked a lot, even as kids, and most of it has amalgamated together in my memories now, making it hard to differentiate. "I'm sorry," I whisper.
"Didn't I tell you to stop that?" he reminds me, but his voice is gentle.
"I know..."
"We were kids," he says casually, and as usual, he's being too generous.
"You have a bloody photographic memory, Edward," I burst, frustrated at myself.
"I know." He smiles again, and it's his way of lightening the mood, but I know now that even if he puts on an overall front of indifference, what's bothering him will always remain just below the surface.
"Can we talk later?" I prompt him seriously. "Tonight?"
He groans lowly and with more exaggeration than I suspect he's feeling. "No. Tonight I want to get drunk and then fuck you three times before morning."
"In the morning, then?" I'm not deterred as I raise my hand to his face, grazing my fingers across his still-healing cheekbone.
"I'll think about it," he relents, releasing his breath heavily and taking my wrist, "but it'll make shit a lot easier for me if you can just remember."
I nod and leaning against him I rest my lips against his temple. "Okay..."
"Okay, no more heavy shit." And as if to reiterate it, he slips a palm along my thigh and beneath the material of my dress.
"I'm sitting on you to calm you down, not make you hornier," I point out, grabbing his hand as it gets a little too adventurous beneath the table.
He only smirks, when Emmett appears behind him and slaps his shoulder to grab his attention.
"What's up?" Edward asks, looking up and over his shoulder at him.
"Come outside for a sec, mate?" Emmett asks casually.
"Yeah, righto," Edward agrees, and after sliding over to my seat, he pulls himself to his feet.
"Back in a minute, booger," he murmurs teasingly against my ear before he follows Emmett out of the room.
"What's that all about?" I ask Alice, taking Edward's chair to sit beside her. Jas' seat is vacant as well, and I assume he joined Edward and Emmett, wherever they went.
She rolls her eyes and grimaces to herself. "Something stupid they're planning tonight, no doubt, but Bells, you know how much you flipped everyone out with Edward just now?" Her voice drops in confidence even as she snorts past the obvious urge to laugh. "Good thing you decided to go real, because I don't think you could have pulled it off pretending."
"Shh..." I nudge her, unable to prevent the smile from warming my face. "What's Lauren and Newton's brother doing here, anyway? —do you know?"
She sighs, her eyes darting quickly in their general direction before they focus back to me. "Apparently Lauren is Newton's date, and his brother is Jessica's. I guess they share bitches in their family." Her laughter this time is through her nose.
"Well, that's pathetic," I note, sharing her amusement, but my thoughts are occupied. "Alice...?"
"Hmm?" she asks after picking up a champagne glass filled with juice and bringing it to her lips.
"Why doesn't Edward say...a certain three words?" I lower my voice to emphasise the significance of it, but in return, Alice expression knots in confusion.
"What three words—I love you?"
"Yeah," I admit, biting on my bottom lip as my chest twinges with guilt. I'm not sure Edward would like me talking about this with her, but she knows him.
"You're up to that already?" Her eyebrows raise and a broad smile brightens her face. "You guys are seriously cute, you know that?"
"I know," my smile immediately echoes hers, "but... he said he told me why, only I can't remember."
"He told you why he won't say 'I love you'?" she clarifies.
"When we were young, yeah..."
She tilts her head to consider it before obviously coming up blank. "Not sure, but you know what he's like. He'll cave eventually. He's such a sap beneath it all." She sounds unfazed by it, and it lessens my concern a fraction.
"I know," I agree, but it bothers me that I can't remember; especially considering this one's obviously huge for him. "They're not going to get too drunk tonight, are they?" I decide to change the subject, but I'm as equally concerned about it. I want Edward as sober as possible.
"Probably." Her eyes roll a second time. "Why? What have you guys got planned?" Her expression becomes shrewd, and I sigh pointedly in hopes she'll let it go. Alice can get just as invested as my mother, and her repulsion over it involving her brother seems to be coming in second behind her curiosity over my newly acquired sex life.
"Nothing, but he's hard to hold off when he's drunk," I lie, and it's enough to convince her.
"Tell me about it."
By the time the boys come back the first course has already been served.
Edward takes his seat beside me and stares down at the three beef skewers before him. "Hang on... I ordered prawns..." His eyes drifts to my plate, where they narrow suspiciously and rise to mine. "You pain in the neck!"
The orders for dinner tonight were sent a week ago, but apparently, everyone ordered prawns for their entrée; myself included. There wasn't enough to go round.
"You should have come back in time," I state lightly, picking up the last crumbed, butterfly prawn on my plate and meticulously dipping it in sweet and sour sauce.
"Oi!" Edward breaks in just as I'm about to take a bite.
"What?" I pause, feigning innocence.
"Trade?" He holds up a skewer pitifully.
"On one condition," I say, bringing it closer to my lips teasingly
"What?" he asks suspiciously.
"Don't get too drunk tonight." I'm serious, and in response he scoffs and plucks the prawn from my hand.
"I wasn't going to anyway." He shoves it in his mouth and grins.
"Then what were you, Emmett and Jas conspiring about?" I ask cynically.
"Guy stuff," he replies casually, and it sounds simple enough.
"Guy stuff?" I echo dubiously. "Are you serious?"
"Jesus you're nosy." He clamps my nose between his fingers like he always does. "Do I ever hassle you over the shit you get up to with midget?"
"Alice thinks you're planning a huge bender," I explain my reasoning, and I'm yet to be convinced.
He scoffs and tilts his head toward me. "The only bender I'll be having tonight is with you, snotface." And turning directly to face me he winks.
Breaking into a secretive grin, I lean against him and curve my hand around his upper thigh beneath the cover of the table. "Seriously, she fucked around on you with that guy?" I assert in near disbelief after I briefly catch sight of the four of them at their table. It's also more than satisfying to know that her eyes have barely left my boyfriend the whole night.
"Yep," he replies, snorting past it as he munches on the beef skewers left on his plate.
"She did it to get back at you," I rationalise, because no semi-functioning girl on the planet would leave Edward for a Newton.
"Yep, she did." He shrugs a shoulder offhandedly and presses his nose and lips momentarily to the side of my head, "'Cause she knew my heart was elsewhere."
I only smile to myself and lightly shake my head, but I don't reply. Sometimes Edward in all this eloquence is enough
"Hey?" he pipes up, and when I turn to him, he makes his intentions known. "Kiss me."
I do without hesitation; immediately tasting the tang of sweet chilli on his lips. Something I want more of.
"I'll say it to you one day, booger," he promises me, nuzzling his nose against my temple again. "Just 'cause it's you."
A/N: Thank you for reading.