-:-
To my surprise, I didn't dream about anything significant that night. A loud screeching noise eventually filtered itself into my altered sleep state, rudely bringing me back to consciousness. It was my phone's alarm screaming like a banshee. I had set it to a louder volume than usual so there would be no chance of waking late and Tazmanian-deviling around my room like the night before.
I reached to turn off the alarm, grumbling at the thought of having to get up from such a comfortable, warm bed. At 6:30 AM, a heavy morning fog weighed down my eyelids, and I breathed deeply, trying to let the faint traces of fresh laundry coax my senses awake. Eventually, I heard a faint pattering sound, the one Doris had described as water pipes in the walls.
Edward. In the shower.
My eyes widened at the thought and different parts of my body, one by one, flipped on like switches. Now I was awake.
Imagining water spilling over his flawless skin, lips, body, and more was a pretty great way to start the morning. He probably was lathering his hair and rubbing soap over his chest. I wondered if, at that very moment, he could be thinking of me while standing in the shower's steam, perhaps leaning against the tiled wall, letting his hand caress down to his stomach, to his—oh Jesus Christ, I needed to get out of bed. My hands had started to move to the silky edge of my shorts and I needed to get in a cold shower.
Having been almost ready to pleasure myself in Anne of Green Gable's bedroom with thin walls didn't exactly seem the most respectful idea, although I could have certainly done it without him knowing. I hastily turned on the tap in the shower and stepped in, hissing through my teeth until the chilled water turned warm. All of this from a boy who I'd known for less than a few hours if I took time to add up our interactions. Even if we could call the moment between us last night a connection, all I could really say for sure was that he liked coffee, was handsome, was protective over himself, thought I should make safer decisions… and had once fallen down the stairs completely nude. Naked. Like right now.
I tamed the horny college girl inside me by thinking of Scrabble, toes that looked like knuckles, Charlie in his tighty-whities—and that last one did it, and the fantasy was over. I scrubbed myself clean and grumbled as I turned off the water.
Being an early bird gave me plenty of time to dress and fix my hair properly, and I took time to study myself in my scoop-neck shirt, thinking that unfortunately, yet hypocritically, next to Jessica, my B-sized boobs would look like anthills.
It was about quarter to eight when I was ready, and I figured I'd head down early to see if I could help Doris with a few odds and ends as a thank-you for feeding me the night before. She'd offered to make me a small Thanksgiving-like dinner, but I settled for channeling my inner kid and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with apple slices. It was honestly delicious, considering Doris had insisted I use Tom's homemade brioche bread and some sort of fancy strawberry-rhubarb jam.
I ran my hands through my hair one last time and went out the door. As I was locking it behind me, Edward's door opened. He stepped out and mirrored my position to lock his door, then noticed me, giving a small smile.
"Good morning," he said warmly.
I bit my thumbnail and gave him a small wave, echoing his words. He looked revitalized from the night before. The dark circles under his eyes had faded and his skin had a glow. He had on a long-sleeved, dark green shirt that enriched the color of his eyes and hugged his muscles in all the right places.
Michelangelo would have had a fucking orgasm if he'd gotten the opportunity to carve the Statue of Edward.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, honest this time. "I barely got myself out of bed this morning." Until I had to go ice down my girly parts. "How did you sleep?"
"Honestly? Great," he said, looking interestingly happy about that. "I typically only get three or four hours."
Geez, no wonder he'd been carrying shadow bags under his eyes. "Only three or four? I'm surprised you made it through the movie without snoring."
"Coffee," he said simply. "Though, I don't think I could have fallen asleep."
"Yeah, the movie was entrancing," I agreed.
He nodded, putting his key in his pocket. "As were you," he said.
I stared. "I—I was? Because I cried, right? As in, I was crybaby-entrancing?"
He managed a bigger smile than usual. Hallelujah. Little angel voices sang in my head.
"Your reactions were lovely. You were equally entertaining as the movie," he said. My wide-eyed stare must have made him think he'd said too much, because he quickly added, "I mean, I wasn't creepily staring at you the whole time, I promise."
Then he shook his head, fidgeting with his hair. Here I was again, hearing him say something poignant while I just stood there in shock. It was the way he spoke; hearing him form a full sentence without the words 'holla,' 'bro,' or 'dude,' made all the other guys I knew seem like middle-schoolers.
"I get drawn into stories, I guess," I said, amused, and teased, "You must have really been tired if I was entertaining."
He placed his hand on my back for a single second, letting me go in front of him on the stairs. "Do you ever notice how much you put yourself down, even when you're joking?"
"Are you joking?" I said with a laugh. "You're the one telling me to stay away from you like you're not worth my time."
"That's because I'm not very good at this," he said, his fingertips gliding down the banister. "Being around someone who—well, maybe just opening up in general. I haven't really talked about my life in a long time."
"So, we don't know much about each other. But I don't see the harm in trying."
It took us another flight of stairs for him to quietly reply, "I've got baggage."
"Everyone usually does," I said moments later. I couldn't blame him. I wasn't eager to bring up my past, either. I glanced over at him, raising my eyebrows and cracking a grin. "But you did ask me to breakfast. Were you offering me a meal of silence?"
He smirked. "Yes. If you must know, I was a monk in the Spanish Monastery. Silence is my specialty."
"Well, great," I replied, continuing down the stairs. "I was a hooker in Berlin. Maybe you can help me purify my tainted soul."
I thought I heard him quietly chuckle behind me, so I took that as a good sign. Then out of nowhere, my foot slid on the carpet and I grabbed the railing, and would have fallen forward if it weren't for the strong pair of hands that caught me.
"Whoa," Edward said, pulling me back to my feet. "Are you all right?"
His hands lingered on my waist, and I took a breath, thanking God I hadn't wiped out in front of him. "Yeah," I said, as I slid my hands over his. "Do these come in handy a lot or is this just a special occasion?"
Oh, girl. No.
My cheeks grew warm as I realized that, not only was that a terrible pun, but somewhere, far away, a thousand Michael Scotts were screaming a load of TWSS jokes. "I meant rescuing skills—you know, joking." I mouthed 'Oh my god' to the open air in front of me, then said quickly, "Never mind, just pretend I said thank you."
I walked ahead of him, not wanting him to see my flaming face, and he followed a few steps behind.
"You're welcome," he called teasingly. Smart-ass.
When he caught up with me, I couldn't help but laugh. "You can probably guess that my specialty is being awkward."
"It's refreshing," he said, amused. "You're funny."
His compliments were making me giddy, and I made it a point to keep myself from giggling. "Well, when your company has been Jessica and Lauren for the past couple of weeks, I guess my personality might seem a tad more enjoyable."
He gave me a curious look. "How did you know I've been here that long?"
Angela had told me, but I didn't want to bring up for the second time that we'd been chatting about him yesterday. I paused before saying, "Doris mentioned it, I think?"
Thankfully, we were making our way down the last set of stairs to the lobby, which was similar to the previous morning—full of chatter with a warm aroma of bread and bacon wafting through the air. We exchanged 'good mornings' with Mr. Miller, who was sitting in an armchair with a glass of juice, and Doris waved at us from her desk with a half-eaten bagel in her hand.
"Morning, Mr. Masen!" she called with girlish charm. "Good morning, Isabella! Don't you two look adorable?"
Oh gosh, I thought.
"Hi, Doris," we said in unison.
I glanced at Edward to see if he was embarrassed by her comment, but he didn't seem to be.
"Do you want to pick the table?" I asked him.
"I'll let you have the honor," he said, motioning toward the café area. There were only three tables available that I could see.
"Window?" I suggested.
"Sure."
"I'll be right there," I said. "I'm going to get some tea. Want anything?"
"No, thanks. The servers bring the coffee around in the morning," he said.
Coffee. Right.
"Okay," I said. As he walked toward the windows, I went over to the buffet table and prepared a mug of tea with honey. I was debating between choosing a croissant or a cinnamon roll from one of the pastry baskets when I was suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of malodorous perfume and a sickeningly large amount of hairspray.
"When you're finished blocking the table," came Jessica's snide voice from my left, "I need to refill the pitchers."
I narrowed my eyes to meet her harsh glare. She was standing with a large carton of orange juice and an irritated look on her face. I moved my mug to the side and breathed slowly, deciding that, for once, I needed to stand up for myself.
"Excuse me," I said quietly so only she would hear, "but what exactly is your problem with me?"
She sniffed lightly and started pouring juice into a pitcher. "You were in my way."
If this was about Edward, I wanted to see if she would actually put it out there.
"Before that," I said, waiting to analyze her impending reaction. "I'd just like to know what I did to deserve your little glares of hate you've thrown me since you saw me in the parking lot."
She wrinkled her nose and twisted her mouth into an aggravated pucker. I was half expecting a very Jerry Springer-like reaction from her: shattering the pitcher of juice on the ground, ripping out her hair band, and attacking me with her presumably fake fingernails, screaming something like "You're with my man, ho-bag!"
Instead, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and scoffed. "As if I would, like, bother worrying about you. You are in my territory."
Her territory? "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you pee around these tables?"
Her mouth dropped and, I swear, if she hadn't been in her work uniform, she would have punched me. A slice-through-me stare really wasn't an answer, so I pushed it further, asking, "Territory as in this lodge or who I choose to sit with?"
She didn't reply and started to pour the juice into the second pitcher. She suddenly jerked the carton, deliberately sloshing juice in my direction, soaking my hands and contaminating my tea with pulpy, orange splashes. I jumped back and stared at her, feeling my face heat in anger instead of the usual embarrassment. I guess provoking her wasn't the best idea, and now I knew her answer was the latter.
"Sorry, my bad," she said, smirking.
I grabbed two sets of napkin-wrapped silverware and backed away from the buffet, abandoning my tea, before I decided to hit her, and God, did I want to. I walked back over to Edward and gently slid into the chair opposite him, my mouth set in a tight line, setting his silverware in front of him.
He gave me a questioning look, lowering his eyes to my dripping hands. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I said casually, as if juice-covered hands were normal, and unwrapped my utensils, pulling out the napkin to clean up.
"Were they out of tea?"
I traced the outline of the bowl of fruit on our table with my fingertip. "Nope," I replied, trying not to show my irritation. "I thought I'd have coffee instead."
"Oh, is that what Jessica recommended?" he asked. He must have seen us talking. He studied my face, adding, "What did she say?"
"Well… nothing nice," I said, trying to smile. I narrowed my eyes to the buffet, imagining her exploding into little skanky pieces.
Edward followed my gaze. "Not that I'm accusing you… but did something happen when you both met? She doesn't exactly hide how rude she is to you."
"I can't pinpoint anything specific." Which was a lie, but wasn't about to share that information. I couldn't help smiling as I realized how much better he looked since the previous night—happier, even healthier, and though I would have thought it impossible, his eyes were even more green.
He raised his eyebrows. "What? I have something on my face?"
Just drop-dead-gorgeousness.
"No, sorry." I couldn't help it. Sleep did his body good—a lot of good. I closed my eyes for a moment, refocusing. "Uh… I was just thinking, maybe she heard from Lauren about seeing us together last night. She seemed pretty mad."
He started unwrapping his silverware. "I don't understand."
"Honestly?" I said, amused. Even if Jessica and Lauren were acting like high-school drama queens, they were playing a round of monkey-in-the-middle with him. He had to have picked up on it a least a little. "Jessica's pissed because I'm hanging out with you. She thinks I'm intruding on her territory."
"Her territory?"
"Her words, not mine," I said. "She means you."
Edward straightened, creasing his eyebrows. "Me?"
"You're joking, right?"
He looked slightly uncomfortable. "I can't say that I haven't noticed her flirting. But I've never returned it. I don't see how that would make her angry with you."
He obviously had never seen Days of Our Lives.
"Because I'm sitting here where she wants to be. You're paying attention to me instead of her. She thinks you actually… like me." I said the last part with a laugh.
It was even more embarrassing because of how much I wanted it to be true. And I was lying to myself if I thought that, just because he was some beautiful stranger, it was okay for me to have freedom with my feelings. I was determined to continue to forget what took place in Florida—before Renée and Charlie were back together. I'd gotten good at pretending it never happened so far. The best way was always turning my back on men completely; falling for someone was not on my agenda for good reason.
And now, here was Edward, and the look on his face was enough to stir up my feelings in a way I'd avoided for two years, making me forget my fear of getting close to someone. He was mysterious and deep, full of secrets and hidden emotions… and I liked him.
Jerk.
"Bella," he said, leaning across the table a bit, his voice falling to a deep, yet mellow tone. "I know you think I'm the one who's being obscure, but I'm curious. You put yourself down and talk as though you don't deserve respect. Why?"
Well, screw my readable face.
It was my own fault for being self-deprecating out loud. I squeezed the back of my neck, looking out the window, trying to think of a response. I suddenly wanted to slip out the door and make him forget this conversation.
"I know," he continued, "I'm a hypocrite. I ask and I don't offer up in return, but I just want to understand. You did say that was okay, didn't you? Getting to know each other?"
I felt my palms sweating as I nervously fiddled with my napkin. "Well, sure. But it does work both ways, you know."
He nodded honestly. "I know."
Where to start? "Well," I said, not really wanting to get into everything while in a room full of people. "I guess being self-protective is a hard habit to break for both of us. I have—"
"Good morning, again!"
I jumped as Doris appeared out of nowhere, holding a tray full of mugs and a pot of coffee. "How are you two this morning?"
I took a slow breath as I looked up at her, a bit relieved by the interruption. Edward's expression was still concerned, but he gave Doris a polite smile. "Fine, thank you. How about yourself?"
"Oh, I'm rather well, dear," she said, eyeing Edward questioningly as she got a good look at him. "Mr. Masen, not to put you on the spot, but you are simply glowing this morning. I'm certainly glad that you've perked up a bit!"
Now that the attention was turned away from me, I was ready to wholeheartedly enjoy this. Edward looked positively embarrassed as he thanked her, but he had good control of his blood vessels, apparently, because his cheeks stayed the same color. Damn. I would have been thoroughly pleased to see him flush pink for once.
"Whatever you've done to him, Isabella, keep it up," Doris said, giving me a wink.
I laughed nervously. "Doris, you can call me Bella if you'd like."
"Oh, right, dear," she said, holding out the tray of mugs. "Would you both like some coffee?"
"Yes," we both said, sounding a little too eager. "Please," Edward added.
She poured us steaming cups of coffee and set them in front of us. "We're a little short-staffed today, so if you'd like, I can put your order in to the kitchen. Tom's making cheddar omelets as his specialty this morning, with bacon and a fresh-baked blueberry muffin. Does that interest you?"
I was much too excited as my attention turned to food, and thank God. I'd been living on fruit and peanut butter for the last two days. "Thanks, Doris, that sounds perfect," I answered.
Doris looked at Edward, who nodded. "Sure, thank you," he said.
She squeezed his shoulder gently. "Honestly, honey, I haven't seen you look this refreshed since—well, I couldn't be sure. It's good to see you like this instead of so tired. I'd been worrying that there was a draft in your room or something of the sort. Interrupted sleep is not something I'd like my guests to have in this lodge! You would tell me if something was keeping you awake, wouldn't you? Isabella was just telling me about a noise she'd heard the other night—banging or thumping sounds."
Doris turned her eyes to me. "You haven't heard it anymore, have you, Isabella?"
I shook my head quickly. "Oh—no. No, I haven't. Must have been that ghost." I glanced back at Edward, who shook his head at me with a coy curl of his lips.
"Oh," said Doris, chuckling. "Think of the stories we could tell the tourists!"
I smiled in spite of myself. Doris was like a joyous bubble of pep. It was hard not to be entertained when she was around.
"Anyway, I'll go put your order in. Someone will bring it to you shortly, if not myself," Doris said, looking around the café. "Jessica's on duty, but Lauren's nowhere to be found again. I lost track of her last night when the movie started. I only hope she got around to shining up the door knobs as I asked her to."
Edward raised his mug to his lips to hide his face, and I chuckled under my breath, saying, "Oh, she was shining a knob, all right."
"I didn't hear you, dear, what was that?" Doris asked innocently.
It took everything in me not to burst into laughter as Edward choked on his coffee, holding a napkin to his mouth as he coughed. I sat, wide-eyed with my hand pressed to my lips, stunned that I had let that slip.
"Goodness," said Doris, looking at Edward and then at me. "Have I missed something?"
Thankfully, a well-timed crash of metal pans sounded from the kitchen. Some guests turned to look and Doris sighed. "Never a dull moment, even in Forks," she muttered before looking back at Edward, placing her hand on his back. "Are you all right, Mr. Masen?"
He nodded silently, his fist over his mouth.
"Good, good. Your food will be out soon," said Doris, and she hurried toward the kitchen.
Edward raised his eyes to mine and, this time, I couldn't hold it back. "I'm sorry," I managed through my giggles.
He cleared his throat and took a small sip of coffee. "I almost wish she would have heard you. I would have paid to see the look on her face if she understood that."
"Something tells me Doris isn't all that innocent," I said, thinking of her wink and all the grinning she did when he and I were together. Though, I did doubt that she would appreciate her employees screwing on her beloved fourth-floor hallway.
We were silent for a while, just drinking our coffee, but it was comfortable. I noticed he kept his coffee black while I stirred cream into mine and just a touch of sugar.
"It seems pleasant today," Edward finally remarked, nodding at the window. "No rain, for once. I don't think that's stopped since I got here."
It was hard to tell how much sun was out with all the trees around, but, as I'd noticed before, it seemed rather bright and not as gray as the past two days.
"Not that I don't love a lazy, rainy day, but I'm glad," I said. "I've been wanting to take a drive or something. Maybe visit Port Angeles. Doris told me there are a few places to shop there. Not that I'd mind seeing some of the town, either. Have you been?"
"A few times," he said. "It's nice. Though, I haven't done a lot of shopping. I mostly just walk around."
Before I could muster the courage to ask him if he was willing to come with me, I heard repetitious clicks sounding from a distance, growing closer. High heels. Oh boy.
Jessica was walking toward us with plates.
Charlie's voice rang through my head: 'Keep your head up. Look them in the eyes. Don't forget how smart you are, and that I taught you how to use a gun.' Of course, that was when I was being bullied in fifth grade. Charlie had come down for a visit and let me shoot his Glock .40 at a shooting range. Renée had gone postal.
"Hey, you," Jessica said with a grin, fully focused on Edward before giving me a quick glance. "Hi, Bella." Her voice was like saccharin. I decided to be polite and smile, too—what I could manage for a smile for the juice-thrower, anyway. She set our plates down and placed her hand on the back of Edward's chair. "So, Edward, how was the movie? Lauren said she saw you there."
And so it began.
"It was very good, thank you," he said. "How was Olympia?"
She flipped her hair, seizing her chance to babble. "It was super fun. You should have come! Lauren got stuck here, so I ended up with stupid, whiny Tyler all night, but we all got free beer from some frat house. I think we're all going to go to the beach later tonight for a bonfire. Want to come? I could totally drive you there and back. Or you could, like, stay at my place. Some of the other guys are, too."
I absently stared out the window, feeling equally entertained and a bit nauseous by the show she was putting on.
"Sorry," said Edward, "that's nice of you, but I have plans tonight."
"Oh, really?" asked Jessica, her voice turning slightly cool. "What are you doing?"
I couldn't help but sneak a peek at him and he glanced at me. 'Yeah, what are you doing?' I asked with my eyes.
"I promised Doris I would play tonight," he said, turning back to Jessica with a polite smile. "I don't like to break promises."
"Oh, the piano!" she said, giggling, reaching to play with the buttons on her shirt, and my eyes grew wide as I realized she was unbuttoning one right in front of his face. "How about that lesson you promised me? If you don't break promises, then we're still on, right?"
I tried not to feel jealous at that. He wasn't mine, after all. He could do whatever he wanted, even if it included teaching a skankwhore piano scales.
He opened his mouth, seeming at a loss for words as he, too, realized that she had just unbuttoned her shirt, and stared at me for a few seconds. I raised my eyebrows—it wasn't as if he needed my permission—and almost choked as I held back a laugh, quickly narrowing my eyes. He cleared his throat, finally looking back at Jessica.
"Maybe if I have the time," he said flatly.
Jessica gave me a pointed look. "That'd be great."
"Jessica!" It was Doris, calling out from the kitchen. God bless that woman. Jessica scowled and turned back to Edward, and her mouth transformed into a warm, flirtatious smile. "I guess I'll see you later, handsome."
I snorted under my breath and bit my thumbnail, trying to hide my expression. Jessica threw me an impertinent glare. "Enjoy your breakfast, Bella."
I forced out a polite, "Thank you." She looked way too proud as she walked away. Looking back at Edward and breaking into a smile, I asked, "What did you look at me for? Permission?"
"Permission?" he repeated. "Good God, I was waiting for you to help me. I don't want to teach her anything. Right then would have been a great moment for you to spill your coffee or flip your plate off the table."
Chuckling, I said, "Well, you could have spilled your coffee, too, you know. Or choked on it again. I can't read minds like you can."
"I can't read minds as well as I'd like to," he said, running his hands through his hair and exhaling loudly. "Trust me."
"Sorry, but you're on your own with her," I said. "I'm not much help. Maybe you can conveniently come down with carpal tunnel."
"I guess I'll have to," he said, picking up his fork, and I happily turned my attention to my breakfast, knowing I was going to have to restrain myself from inhaling it.
I looked down at my plate and, as soon as my knife touched the plate, my mouth opened in an incredulous part.
Oh. Fuck. No.
There it was, discreetly hidden, but just enough in plain sight to get the message across. Right there, next to a finely cut orange slice, on top of my omelette, was something translucent and bubbly. Saliva.
I had imagined it, certainly, but I'd never expected that she would actually do it. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that I nearly drew blood as I watched Jessica saunter toward the kitchen.
Before I could blink, I stood up, snatched an apple out of the bowl on the table, and took aim. It flew from my hand like a bullet and hit her squarely in the back of her thin little neck. She stumbled in surprise and turned around so fast that she fell back onto the buffet table and took out two fruit baskets. It was like a dream in slow-motion, watching her tumble to the ground, bananas and oranges bouncing around her like little springy cartoons. She sat in shock, looking as though she was going to erupt in tears at any moment.
Everyone around us went from stunned silence to roaring laughter. Mr. Miller let out a snort that would have pleased any member of a wild pig family. Doris cackled and threw Jessica her pink slip. And then—
"Bella?"
Instantly, my little fantasy illusion disappeared as Edward said my name. Still sitting in my seat, I snapped out of it just in time to watch Jessica's little pompous ass, which was unfortunately not planted on the floor like in my imagination, disappear into the kitchen. But not before turning back to smirk one last time—her last little 'fuck you' to me.
"Bella?" Edward said again, sounding concerned. "Are you all right?"
I gripped my fork with clutched fingers and said very quietly, "She spit… in my food."
Edward's perfect green eyes widened comically and he gave me a stare of disbelief. "No."
"Yes," I hissed.
He leaned over the table to peer at my plate and then looked back at me. He was fully beaming. Last night in the hallway and all this morning, he nearly blew a blood vessel trying to smile, but when Jessica Stanley defiled my breakfast, he grinned like the goddamned Cheshire cat.
"What is funny?" I demanded, seething.
To add to my shock, he started laughing.
"You," he gasped in between his little fit of hilarity. "Your face is priceless."
I stared at him, and the longer I did, I could feel my anger melting away from the melodious sound of his laughter. He eventually cleared his throat, getting himself under control, and I managed to calm myself and joke, "Would you like to switch plates?"
"Not exactly," he said, reaching for a napkin and placing it over my poor eggs like a mortician covering a cadaver. "I'll go tell Doris."
"No!" I grabbed his arm before he could stand up. "Don't. I don't want to cause a scene. I'll just… I don't know, spill my coffee on her fancy heels in revenge."
He narrowed his eyes to the front desk.
"Please," I insisted. "Don't say anything."
He took a deep breath and glanced at his plate. "Well, it's a shame to waste food and all, but I'm suddenly not hungry for this either."
"No, don't—" I started to argue. There was no use in him giving up his meal because Jessica's venom was now swimming in mine.
"Hey," Edward said lightly. "Fuck her. We're going out for breakfast."
I stared. "We are?"
"Yes," he said, standing up and offering me his hand. "That is, if you'd like to."
I felt the familiar stir of heat in my stomach and had to take a breath. After a beat, I accepted his hand, which was warm and smooth, and it hugged my small one in a perfect fit.
"O-okay," I answered, a little dazed. Jessica who, right?
We walked out of the breakfast area and Edward let go, putting his hands on my shoulders to stop me from going out the door.
"Just one moment," he said. He walked over to the front desk and exchanged a quick conversation with Doris. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but Doris's eyes lit up and he had her emitting her million-dollar smile within a few seconds. She nodded at him, giving his cheek a grandmotherly pinch, and at the sight of that, the last lingering thought of Jessica drained away.
"Ready?" he asked as he walked back over to me.
I nodded. We made our way outside and he gestured towards a group of cars. "I can drive, if that's okay with you?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. I wasn't sure if he was ready to be introduced to my truck, especially if his car was the blue Mercedes a few spots down. He ended up leading me over to none other than the same silver car that I'd parked next to the first day I arrived. He was the Volvo owner. I chuckled.
"What?" he asked. "Don't they drive these in Jacksonville?"
"No, it's just… you didn't tell me you were a soccer mom," I teased.
He laughed. "A proud soccer mom, thank you very much."
I started to walk to the passenger side, but he beat me there and held the door open. "Oh. Thanks," I said shyly. No guy had ever opened a car door for me—except Charlie, and that was back when I was still in a booster seat.
While I was buckling up, he slid into the driver's side, and I glanced around, seeing how clean and glossy—not to mention high-tech—everything was. I thought of the dry heaves he might have when he saw the state of my truck. "So, where are we going?"
"Port Angeles," Edward replied, starting his car. It barely hummed. "You said you wanted to visit. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, of course," I said as he started backing out of the parking space. As we started down the drive, I thought of how it would be nice to pick up some books or a postcard to send to Charlie, Renée, and some of my friends. I wondered how much money I'd put in my… Crap. My purse. "Wait!"
He jerked to a stop and stared at me. "What?" he said, checking his mirrors.
"I forgot my purse," I said dumbly.
"Oh, do you need something in it?" he asked.
"Um, money?" I said, giving him a strange look. Hello? I wasn't Lauren, who apparently paid people with quickies.
"Oh, Bella," Edward said as if I were being silly, and he continued to drive. "I asked you to go out. I don't expect you to pay. Now, if you would have said you needed your lip balm—"
"I do," I said quickly. "Let me out."
He grinned. "I'm sure there's a store that sells that, too. You might as well sit back and enjoy the scenery."
I sighed. "Fine. But next time, I'm taking you out."
"Whatever you say," he said.
As we drove out of the parking lot, I saw Jessica Stanley leaning against the side of the lodge, cell phone pressed to her ear as usual. When she noticed us, her mouth fell open and she stared at me with a look of raging jealousy. And suddenly, it was my turn to smirk, as wide as a middle school kid who got picked first for a dodgeball team.
Edward chose me. Take that, Tits McGee.
-:-
