17

Alice was mad at her. She hadn't said as much, but Bella knew when people were angry at her. She'd spent much of her childhood with a mother who consistently reminded her of how much she disappointed her. She'd always assumed it was just because Bella hadn't been afraid to speak her mind, call Renee out when she jumped from one man to another, seeking comfort in the arms of any one with a dick. Of course, it hadn't been Bella's carefree attitude that Renee had hated, but the fact that her lesbian daughter was an embarrassment.

And now Alice was made at her. Once Phil left, they'd headed inside, each of them heading toward their rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Carlisle, Esme, Rose, and Emmett had been discussing their dinner plans, while Edward and Jasper . . . Well, they hadn't kept their hands off each other long enough to say much of anything. And Alice, she simply gave Bella a smile before going upstairs to change. So, yeah, Alice was mad at her.

When Bella walked into their bedroom. She called it theirs because she'd slept in Alice's bed every night, but it wasn't really her room, was it? It was Alice's, full of Alice's furniture, her clothes, her life.

"Are you going to tell me what I did?" Bella asked, sitting on the side of the bed as Alice opened her closet door.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at her, but instead of the usual smile that she would have thrown at her, there was a frown. "I'm just changing into something more . . . comfortable."

Bella bit the inside of her lip and nodded, tossing the envelope Phil had given her onto the nightstand. And that's when it hit her: why Alice was so angry? She'd seen her kissing another girl, holding another, girl, hugging another girl.

"I told you she didn't mean anything to me," Bella said, noticing the way Alice's shoulders tensed. "She was just . . . just a crush."

"I know," she replied with a sigh and turned to face her. "But she got to be your first."

"We never . . . we never . . . had sex," Bella muttered, feeling her face turn bright red.

Alice smiled, a true smile, and laughed. "That's not what I mean, but good to know."

"Then what did you mean?"

Alice walked over to where Bella say, placing her hands on Bella's shoulders and pushing her back onto the bed before straddling her. "She was your first kiss, your first girl who made you smile that sexy smile of yours, the first girl to touch you and make you tingle with excitement. It's stupid and silly, but I wish I had been your first, Bella. Your first everything."

"Me too," Bella sat up, sliding her arms around Alice, holding her so close, she could feel her heart beating. "But you're wrong about one thing."

"And what is that?"

"She never made me tingle. You do. Just by looking at me, you make me . . . make me wet. I imagine the feel of your fingers inside me, the feel of . . . your mouth, tasting me for the first time," she whispered, feeling her skin warm as she blush crept over her. "I . . . I fantasize about touching you, tasting you, making love to you, Alice. Only you."

"Only me?" she asked, sliding her hands over Bella's neck, cupping her face. "Promise?"

Bella nodded, and a moment later, she felt Alice's lips pressed against hers.

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