Note: Thanks always to Emilie Fauve for all of her hard work she put forward to beta for me for oh-so-many chapters. I'll never forget it!
-:-
I dreamt of nothing but swirling, blurry colors. The miasma changed rapidly, switching from bland to calm to cool. Mostly I felt as though I was in a state between asleep and awake, unable to make up my mind as to where I'd rather be. I'd been mindful in my dream states before and usually could manipulate them to my advantage, but right then, something was telling me to come out of my cloud of unconsciousness.
It was almost like a voice.
Blearily, I blinked myself awake to find that it was a voice. Edward's voice. Only he wasn't speaking, he was making sounds in his sleep. My room had grown very dark, and if he hadn't made a noise, I would have forgotten that he was there.
"Edward?" I said softly.
No answer.
The lamp was next to his side of the bed, so I couldn't flip it on without moving. I slid out of bed and walked blindly around to the night table. With my luck, if I had tried reaching across the bed to reach the lamp, I would have lost my balance and crash-landed on top of him. That would have been awkward to explain, seeing as how I'd already pulled him into bed with my grabby hands once. Being atop him would be a whole different level of grabby.
When I reached the night table, I felt for the lamp and switched it on, squinting through the glow and down at Edward. He'd barely moved an inch since I had last closed my eyes.
Quietly retreating to the opposite side of the bed, I climbed back in and wrapped my arms around a pillow, sticking another under my head to add to the height as I studied his face. He was completely zonked out, but even in sleep, he appeared unsettled. His forehead was tautly creased and his body twitched slightly before he faintly moaned again. He was dreaming—or having a nightmare.
I hesitated, unwilling to wake him without knowing. Even if midnight struck, it wouldn't seem like enough sleep for him, not after the mostly-all-nighter he had pulled, plus running around for more than half the day. He shifted and his arm slid upward and under the pillows, and I heard his hand tap the headboard. Maybe that was the sound I had heard that first night, only he must have done it much harder to create such a clamor.
I reached out and gently rubbed his shoulder, thinking that maybe it would cause his tension to subside or at least divert his dream into something different if it was taking a darker path. His lips moved as if he was speaking, but no sound came. I was almost disappointed. After all, he'd gotten to hear me blabber unconsciously before. I didn't dwell for too long, as he suddenly jerked in his sleep, flinching away from my touch. He hit my headboard again with a loud slam, enough force to make the bed tremble.
"Edward?" I said, shaking him gently. His breathing was growing irregular, and as I swept his hair out of his eyes, I felt a brush of cool sweat on my fingers.
Well, he certainly wasn't dreaming of Candy Land.
I shook him again and within a few seconds, he wrenched himself awake and recoiled from the contact, clearly startled. I withdrew my hand quickly as he gasped and stared at me, his eyes wide with fearful clarity.
"Are you okay?" I asked nervously.
He narrowed his eyes as if contemplating his next move.
"Yes. I'm sorry," he said quietly. He sat up and slid his legs off the bed, his back to me, breathing deeply as he composed himself.
"I didn't mean to scare you," I said, pushing myself up. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you or not."
"No, it's okay," he said with a hint of relief, pushing his hands through his hair. He turned to look at me. "Thank you."
"No problem. So… how bad?"
Edward cleared his throat, looking thoughtfully at the bed. "Well, let's just say I'm glad you woke me when you did."
He looked embarrassed. I was the one who had probably recited dirty poetry to him in my unconsciousness, and yet he was self-conscious for having a little nightmare.
"Were you dreaming about your neighbor?" I asked, remembering that he'd told me about the kid who sometimes haunted his dreams.
"No," he said, standing up slowly and rubbing his shoulder. "It's just—never mind. Not much happened before you pulled me out of it."
"That's good, I guess," I said, unsure. He'd been agitated and sweating.
I got out of bed and pulled my hair away from my neck, feeling the slight tangles that always came with sleep. The heavy fatigue that had been plaguing me earlier in the day had faded and I felt unexpectedly awake. I looked around for my cell phone to check the time, but Edward was one step ahead of me.
"It's only quarter after seven," he said, stealing a look at his watch. "It feels later, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," I agreed, surprised that it was so early. Ha. Technically, I still had at least four and a half hours left with him if he didn't decide to go collapse on his own bed. "Are you still tired?"
Edward made a sound that could have been a laugh if it had actually contained some kind of amusement. "Not exactly. Are you?"
"No. I'm kind of hungry, actually." The guy probably thought that all I ever thought about was food, even if I had stuck to a liquid diet all day like I'd been ordered.
"Oh, right. You haven't eaten, have you?" he said. "They serve until eight-thirty in the dining hall. Do you want to go downstairs and have dinner?"
"Sure," I said, trying to sound casual. "You don't mind?"
"No," he said, giving me a half-smile. "I haven't eaten either. I was too busy having a near-stroke over this." He patted his back pocket.
Well, I couldn't pretend I hadn't been going crazy over his ass either.
"Right," I replied, thankful that my cheeks didn't flush and give me away. "Do you mind giving me a minute to fix my hair?"
"Yeah, of course," he answered, taking a step toward the door. "Take your time. I'm going to go change."
"Why?" I asked. "We don't have to dress formally, do we?"
"Oh, no," said Edward, looking down at himself. "I just feel a bit grungy. After running around all day, I guess. And dreaming."
Ah. Cold sweat. Poor guy. "I think I'll change, too. Can I meet you downstairs?"
"Sure," he said. "See you in a bit."
After he left, I let out a ridiculously loud sigh and sat on my bed, taking a moment to once again reflect on the past few days—and the past few hours. It was strange to think that if I'd stayed in Jacksonville, I never would have crossed paths with such an intriguing stranger. I'd probably be in my roommate-less apartment, packing my boxes to embarrassingly move back in with my parents. My friends—especially my ex—would die when they found out that I had actually met someone new in the rainiest, middle-of-nowhere town on the map.
Though, it wasn't as if they would ever meet him; I certainly didn't expect him to decide that his next destination would conveniently be the Sunshine State so we could continue getting to know each other. And like Doris had said, Edward had paid for a month's stay without planning on staying the whole time and Angela had mentioned that he'd been there for over two weeks. His departure would inevitably be coming up soon.
It seemed crazy to think that I'd received all this information from everyone but Edward. I still had no idea why he was even here in Forks in the first place.
Dinner conversation topic number one: find out what he's doing here.
I chose another pair of jeans and pulled on the only somewhat nice black top I'd brought, thinking that I might as well play it safe in case the other guests did decide to play it fancy for dinner, and after convincing my hair to behave and giving my makeup a quick touch-up, I walked out into the hall. I made for the stairwell, figuring Edward had probably only taken thirty seconds to get ready, compared to my seven minutes, and was almost to the end of the railing when I heard it.
"Mike, this is not funny!"
You've got to be kidding me, I thought.
I darted to the very same pillar behind which Edward had previously pulled me. Lauren's voice was coming from the opposite hallway and I scrunched up my face in disgust, certain that I would most likely lose my desire for food if I had to listen to their hallway sexnanigans again.
"Fuck this reception," she hissed. "I can barely hear you. Are you still there?"
The phone. No fourth-floor fuckfest. Thank God.
"No, I didn't go to the doctor," I heard her say. "Are you joking? I'm not going to Jessica's dad for this!"
I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the hell she was going on about. I hoped she wasn't pregnant. Poor unborn kid.
"Yes," she whispered harshly. "Just you. No, I didn't! Are you joking? Because it looks just like the picture, that's how I know!"
Whatever they were fighting about, I suddenly didn't want to know. I just wanted to go downstairs unscathed, both physically and audibly.
"Mike, if you gave me fucking herpes, I swear to God!"
I pressed my hand over my face so that I didn't snort. An STD.
"Well, if I didn't get it from you, then I must have magically fucked someone else unconsciously!"
Or maybe AHS: Accidental Hooker Syndrome. I couldn't wait to tell Angela.
I listened to her prattle on for another hilarious minute that sounded like a cross between Jerry Springer and Medical Mysteries. What a fourth-floor whore. So, dinner conversation number two: Lauren's crabby panties. I hoped it that wouldn't make Edward lose his appetite; it was just too good to keep to myself.
When the opportunity arose—that is, after Lauren stomped downstairs—I descended the staircase as soon as she was out of sight, smirking the whole way down. Edward was waiting for me in the lobby, glancing over a few of the bookshelves. He was dressed in a white button-down and dark jeans, looking stunning. He spotted me, and as he approached me, he gave me a strange look, probably wondering what I found so funny.
"I'll tell you later," I said with a grin.
He gave me a smile. "I'm intrigued."
"Wow. I've intrigued the most mysterious person I know," I teased. "I think congratulations are in order."
He gave me a slight eye-roll and we made our way down a hallway that I hadn't yet explored. As we walked, I stiffened a bit as I saw Jessica standing by the entrance of what looked like the dining hall.
"Be brave, Bella," said Edward in an amused voice. "She's just a little snot. No pun intended."
I groaned quietly. "Angela promised to tell Tom not to let her touch my food. I wonder if she ever got the chance to talk with him before she left for work."
"Don't worry," he replied. "I don't think she would dare."
"She was bold enough once, though," I protested.
"Just trust me," he said, giving me a bit of a sly grin.
I walked slowly, still doubtful, but he had a sudden glint in his eyes that made me curious. "What, did you say something to her?"
He shrugged his shoulders, seeming too nonchalant.
"You did! What did you say?"
"I don't have the slightest idea what you mean," he said, grinning wider.
He had to nudge me along as I stuttered indistinctly over my words, not sure if I should cringe or laugh. I was shocked to see Jessica slump her shoulders a bit as we approached the door. Even in the company of her apparent resentment, she seemed embarrassed.
"Evening, Jessica," Edward said pleasantly.
"Hi, Edward," she mumbled, looking like a scolded child. She turned to me, not nearly scowling at me as much as she always had before, but the loathing was still faintly laced in her voice as she spoke my name. "Bella."
I bit back a snort. "Stanley," I replied.
As Jessica's lips curled into a disgruntled frown, Edward quickly said, "We'll just seat ourselves at my usual table, if that's okay." He gave me a push into the dining hall and once we were out of her earshot, he nudged my arm. "Antagonist."
"I tried my best," I said, returning his smile.
I followed Edward, finding that there was a sea of khaki pants around us, along with numerous people wearing long-sleeved polo shirts, blouses, and printed sweaters. It was like a little woodsy country club. I was beginning to think that Edward and I were the only guests who owned pairs of jeans—although, we were the only ones who seemed to be under the age of sixty-five.
The dining hall was similar to the café's decor: square tables and hardwood floors, though the tablecloths were cream-colored. Another thing that was different was the number of tables had tripled. Chandeliers, much like the one in my room, hung throughout the ceiling, giving off a lovely glow, bouncing patterned incandescence off the ceiling and walls.
Edward led me to a table near another enormous fireplace. Though it was stunning, I thought the one in Edward's room was superior.
"You have a usual table?" I asked as we got settled. "What are you, a clandestine hotel critic?"
He looked amused. "You've discovered me."
If only that were true. I scanned the room and surprisingly saw several people blinking back at me. I nervously tugged at my neckline, suddenly feeling self-conscious in my lower-cut black shirt with all the buttoned-up, high-collar pastel-wearers around me.
Edward gave me a diminutive smile as I looked back at him with my brow creased. "What's wrong?"
"Well... people are staring at me."
He glanced around and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I don't think they're staring at you. I think they're staring at us."
"Why?" I asked, reaching to play with the cloth napkin holding my silverware.
"If anything, they're probably wondering how I got you to sit with me," said Edward, as if it was plainly evident. "I haven't exactly been the talkative sort. Maybe they think I paid you."
"Like an escort?" I said with a laugh. "That'll be a great rumor to get back to my father."
He chuckled. "I wouldn't put it past some people to go that far," he said, his eyes suddenly falling upon something in the corner behind me.
I followed his gaze only to see Lauren pressed up against the far wall, scowling. I almost turned away, but then, ever-so-subtlety, Lauren shifted her hips and winced as she crossed one leg in front of the other. I quickly whipped my head back around and couldn't stifle a laugh fast enough.
"What?" Edward asked, mirroring my smile.
I shook my head. We hadn't even ordered drinks yet. I couldn't give away the best story so soon. "Remind me to tell you later."
"You can't tell me now?" he asked, his eyes inquisitive.
"Oh, how unfair of me," I teased, reaching for a menu. "Later is better."
Edward looked behind me again. "Perhaps you're right."
Before I could say anything else, Lauren suddenly appeared at my side and began filling up our water glasses. I pushed my lips together and stared widely at Edward, wishing he could read my mind now.
"Edward, Bella," greeted Lauren, her voice surprisingly missing its usual disdain. "What can I get you to drink?"
Edward ordered coffee, of course, and then they both looked at me. I inwardly debated. Normally, I would have ordered iced tea, but spit blended in far too well with liquid to be seen. Lauren had filled both Edward's and my glass, and I was pretty sure that any 'extra ingredients' were meant for only me; the water pitcher was communal, after all.
"Water's fine," I finally said. Just in case.
"Okay," Lauren said indifferently, and then peered at me curiously. "What happened to your head?"
"I… I fell," I said, shocked that the word hadn't gotten around, and that Lauren cared enough to ask. I decided to leave out the whole 'hit by a car' explanation. I'd rather be thought of as a klutz than a complete human mishap.
"Oh, okay," she said with a slight shrug. "Do you need a few minutes with the menu?"
"Yes, please," said Edward, giving her a polite smile. After Lauren had walked away, he looked at me. "Well, that was relatively normal."
"I guess she has other things on her mind," I said. Or in her underwear. I could tell Edward was entertained yet confused about why I was trying to hold back giggles, and I briefly considered getting to the good part early after all, but Lauren was already on her way back to our table with a coffee pot in her hand.
And then, because my life could never seem to pause for an uncomplicated moment, someone else who I never thought I'd see again walked into the dining hall.
"Hey, babe!" the boy called, and to my surprise, Lauren turned around at the sound of the voice.
"Tyler?" she said, halting her steps and looking strangely at the guy as he walked toward her. I couldn't help but gawk. It was the very same brown-haired guy whose car I'd bounced off of the previous night. And he had called Lauren "babe."
Tyler. Her boyfriend.
Fuck me.
"What are you doing here?" Lauren asked him in a hushed voice as he reached her side.
"What's wrong?" Edward asked me, noticing my sudden jaw-drop. This was all happening behind his back, so he hadn't seen yet.
"This is..." I said, trailing off, glancing back over at Lauren and Tyler before promptly lowering my eyes to the table as he looked in my direction. "Oh shit."
Edward continued to stare at me, clearly confused, and then I heard Lauren hiss from across the room, "You did what? To her?"
Lauren proceeded to turn to me, and I covered my eyes with one hand and sighed heavily. I knew what was coming next. I felt Edward touch my arm.
"What is it? Your head?" he asked, concerned.
"Nope," I mumbled, not bringing my hand away from my face. "Just mentally preparing."
I still had time to run. If I tried, perhaps I could spill my water glass and make an excuse to go to the bathroom. I could pretend I was dizzy and leave, but that would possibly cause Edward to call 911. I could knock over the center candle and catch the tablecloth on fire. No one would question it; I was a walking/sitting disaster, after all.
"Hey," Tyler's now-familiar voice suddenly sounded from my left. "Bella, right? I can't believe it's you."
I reluctantly lifted my hand off my eyes to find Tyler and Lauren standing by the side of our table. A look of realization came over Edward's face and I stared at all three of them, at a loss for words.
"Hi," I said to Tyler. "How's your car?"
I was suddenly very aware that Lauren had resumed her vicious scowl and was now looking at Tyler as though he just ran over her dog. My stomach churned uncomfortably. I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with an angry woman whose girl-thing was carrying a scorching case of STD lice.
"My car?" he said with a kind smile, placing his hand on my shoulder. "How are you? I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I felt horrible last night."
Lauren stared at Tyler's hand resting on my shoulder with a piercing glare and suddenly directed her gaze to me. I looked away before I turned to stone.
"Oh, it's okay. I'm fine, really. No harm done," I answered, trying to smile. Now please stop touching me before your girlfriend throws that pot of coffee in my face. Her proximity while holding a glass container full of scalding liquid seemed potentially lethal.
"That's a relief," said Tyler. "I'm really glad you're okay. Small world, isn't it, Laur?" He looked from me his girlfriend to me with a nervous smile, probably because Lauren was boring holes through us both. Tyler then pulled his head back in surprise as if just noticing Edward, who had been sitting patiently in silence. "Hey, man! I didn't even recognize you in dry clothes."
Edward shook Tyler's hand. "Yeah, I think we're all looking a little better today. How did everything go last night?"
"Not bad," Tyler said, leaning on one of the unoccupied chairs and looking as though he'd known us for years. "A lot of paperwork from the police, mostly. I told them everything I saw—the same story as yours. I don't think those assholes will press charges, not after what the cops were saying. How's your hand?"
"It's fine," said Edward. "Yours?"
Tyler lifted his hand with a grin, and I gaped when I saw that it was slightly swollen and red, just as Edward's was. "It's feeling burly," said Tyler. "It felt awesome to hit that jerk."
My face went blood red as Lauren responded in a harsh voice. "What the hell did you do, Tyler?"
"I told you already. You never listen," Tyler said with an agitated huff. "After Bella got hit, Edward was down checking on her and one of these stupid guys yanked him away from her, so Edward hit him, then one of the other morons hit Edward, so I grabbed that guy and punched him." Tyler turned to Edward for a moment with a gratified look. "Turned into a full-on cluster, didn't it, dude?"
"You hit someone?" Lauren repeated.
"Well, yeah. The guy deserved it after what he did," Tyler responded, his eyes shining from the story as if he had enjoyed himself. "So did the other two. Drunk bastards. Anyway, I'm glad everything is okay. I'll tell you what, man—I've never seen such a big guy go down so fast. You pack a hell of a punch. So do I, though," he added with a laugh.
Tyler looked absurdly proud of himself. Edward looked somewhere between embarrassed and satisfied. Lauren looked like the girl from The Exorcist. And I looked like… a beet.
"Here, babe," said Tyler, pulling a small ID badge out of his pocket. "Mike said you left this in his car. He said he drove you home the other night?"
"Oh," said Lauren, breaking her Medusa stare from me for a moment as she took the badge from him. "Yeah. Remember, I got stuck working late? He was closing the store, so…"
Oh, she was working late, all right. What a hussy. Tyler seemed like a nice enough guy… not to mention that he'd stepped in to help during all the chaos last night. It suddenly made me angry and disgusted that she was blatantly lying to his face and cheating behind his back. Edward appeared as uncomfortable as I was.
"Cool," said Tyler. "I've got to run back over to his store, anyway. He's freaking out about something. I don't know what his problem is."
Impending fire ants in his pants, probably.
"Edward, good to see you again," said Tyler, holding his hand out to shake Edward's again. "And Bella, again—I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, really. It wasn't your fault," I said. "I'm glad you were there to help Edward. Don't blame yourself." Internally, I added, Don't sleep with your girlfriend, either, if you know what's good for you.
I needed to call Angela. All this information definitely did not belong in my hands.
Lauren walked away with Tyler after we said goodbye, and I sighed. "Nice guy," I remarked.
Edward nodded. "He is. I'm glad he was there, too. Except for the part where he hit you with his car, of course."
"You're not in trouble, are you?" I asked as I watched Edward absentmindedly run his fingers over his sore knuckles. His hand still looked a bit raw, probably from unconsciously punching my headboard. "I mean with the police?"
"No, I don't think so. Favor was on our side. I forgot to ask—how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," I said honestly. "Just sore."
"Not only that, though," said Edward. "I mean, are you okay… from what happened?"
"Huh?" I stared at him, confused.
He cleared his throat and leaned forward. "I guess I meant are you doing alright emotionally? After those men grabbed you and what you've been through before."
"Oh," I said, playing with my hands. It was sweet that he cared to ask. "Yeah, I promise, I am. I've gotten good at repressing anything that reminds me of it."
His eyes were thoughtful and deep, gazing at me with such care and nostalgia, even though all of this reminded him that I was still hauling around a bag of emotional wreckage.
"Thank you for listening to me," I added softly. "It felt good to talk to someone, to have someone to confide in. I'm sorry if I gave you an extra thing to worry about."
Edward sighed lightly, shaking his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad you let me be there for you. Like I said before, I'm here if you need to talk to someone. Don't be so hard on yourself."
His words were comforting, and I was about to reciprocate the exact same feeling when—
"Well, look at you two!"
Doris appeared.
"I'd been wondering if you both were ever going to show your faces in here," she said sweetly as she came up to our table. "My, my. You two are the envy of the dining room, I must say. Such a cute couple."
My eyes grew wide, but Doris paid no attention. I sometimes wondered if she said such things on purpose. "Mr. Masen, I'm glad to see you looking better. You were in such a tizzy this morning. Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes," he replied, giving her a warm smile. "Thanks to Bella."
He grinned at me and I started to protest, only to be cut off.
"Oh, well, how wonderful!" said Doris. "Charlie was absolutely right about you, dear. Such a sweetheart. And helpful, too. What other delightful qualities do you have, Isabella?"
"Oh, I really didn't—I just—I'm—" Not a public speaker, that's for sure. "Charlie's biased, Doris, that's all." I took a sip of water to try to cool myself down.
"You know, he mentioned that you used to take ballet lessons, too," Doris continued, patting my shoulder. I nearly spit out my water. "How lovely would it be for you to take the floor on one of our talent nights and show off your dancing! Maybe Mr. Masen could even play the piano for you."
I couldn't even speak. I was certain that I had turned reddish-purple and that my appearance would have scared small children.
"Well, I'll let you think about that," said Doris as I cleared my throat, collecting myself. "Has Lauren taken your order, yet?"
"No, not yet," said Edward, coming to my rescue and speaking for me. I was mortified at how amused he was.
"Let me go find her," said Doris. "She's been so flighty this evening, flitting around like she has ants in her pants."
Doris had no idea how right she was.
She bustled away and I looked at anything and everything before I felt sure that my face had returned to a normal color. When I peeked at Edward, he had his fist to his mouth and was gazing at me with comic interest.
"Did you wear a tutu?"
"Shut up," I hissed. Edward laughed, his face lighting up like brilliant sunlight, making me half forget my embarrassment.
"Aw, come on," he said, chuckling. "Don't pretend you don't want to smile."
"I don't," I said, adamantly pushing my lips together, resisting the urge. So much for dinner conversation number one. I didn't want to say anything that might erase that smile from his face. He looked truly happy for once, and I liked seeing him this way. If we had been alone, it would have been difficult to not try to curl up into his arms again.
We were comfortably silent until Lauren and Doris walked back over to the table, which was a nice relief.
"So, dears," began Doris, as Lauren began filling Edward's coffee cup, "Tom's specials tonight are the broiled salmon with whipped sweet potatoes or a crab cake platter with herbed potatoes, and of course, we can't forget the cocktail sauce. And we have the regular menu as well. You can have a few minutes to decide, of course."
"Thank you, Doris," I said, hoping that she would be the one to retrieve whatever I ordered from the kitchen. Lauren seemed a little more conniving than Jessica; to her, spitting probably seemed like child's play. I could end up with a razor blade in my food.
"Goodness, Lauren," said Doris. "You have such a scowl on your face. Haven't you brought them any bread?"
"No, sorry," Lauren mumbled, making sure that she didn't make eye contact with me. Her disdain would have been far too obvious in front of Doris. Even she wasn't stupid enough to be rude to me in front of her boss.
Doris clicked her tongue. "For heaven's sake," she said, walking over to a cart a few feet away that was loaded with baskets of rolls, and brought one back to our table, looking back at Lauren. "Aren't you feeling well? It's as though you're in a different place tonight."
Lauren didn't answer—she only refilled my water glass. Edward and I shared a glance and he blew on his coffee before raising it to his lips. I bit my lip and looked at Doris. This was awkward.
"Well, goodness, what's wrong, dear?" Doris asked Lauren. "Cat got your tongue?"
I chuckled humorlessly. "Crabs got your snatch?"
I hadn't actually meant to say anything aloud, and I jerked in my seat as soon as it came out of my mouth. Lauren's mouth dropped and for the second time, I caused Edward to choke on his coffee. Luckily for me, Doris had looked up to greet a guest and had missed my inappropriate remark, but Lauren's fingers tightened around the coffee pot's handle so tightly, I thought she was going to throw it. Or perhaps actually break it over my head this time.
When Doris turned her attention back to our table, she stared strangely at the sight of all three of us. Lauren was fuming, Edward was hiding his face with his hand, and I was biting my tongue, trying not to convulse while containing a fit of mirth.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
I handed Edward a napkin and gave Doris a smile, ignoring the daggers Lauren was throwing at me. "Just thinking out loud, Doris. About getting a crab cake, that is."
"Oh," she said, completely oblivious and grinning back. "Tom makes fine crab cakes—that's a good choice. Do you enjoy crabs, Mr. Masen?"
Edward coughed into his napkin and I lost it, shamelessly laughing. Lauren was flushing red now; I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she plotted out my murder. And I didn't even give a damn.
Doris chuckled. "I see. Private joke, I suppose. So, is that a yes for the crab cake platters?"
I nodded, wiping tears from my eyes, still giggling. Edward nodded as well and even though he still his hand over half of his face, I could see that his eyes were crinkled in amusement.
"Lovely!" Doris said, squeezing my shoulder and Edward's. "Well, then, let's move along, Lauren, and leave these two lovebirds to themselves."
They walked away while the term 'lovebirds' caused me to sober up a little, so I took a quick sip of water and peeked at Edward. He was staring at me, his eyes wide with hilarity as he took a small breath.
"It's dangerous for me to drink anything around you," he said.
"I'm sorry," I said, still trying to keep my smile under control.
Edward grinned, smoothing his hands over his face and folding them on the table. "You're kind of unpredictable, you know that?"
Uttering vulgarity, managing to knock my head into a handful of solid objects whether they were moving or not, having a soap-opera-like back story, and owning penguin-printed unmentionables… I supposed I was surprising at times.
I finally let Edward in on Lauren's phone call that I'd overheard, giving him a slightly cleaner version of what I'd had to listen to.
He shook his head, exhaling forcefully. "Well. What goes around comes around. Quite literally."
"Yeah, though I guess now I should just eat the rolls to be safe," I said, pushing my hair behind my ears. "There's no way that she took my comment as a coincidence."
"I'll switch plates with you if you're nervous," said Edward, looking towards the kitchen door. "I could always say something to Doris, you know."
"No, don't you dare. They'll probably slash my tires," I said, deciding to change the subject before he got the idea firmly in his head. "Does anyone ever call you Eddie?"
I was successful in distracting him as he blinked and laughed softly. "Not since I was six years old. Why?"
"Just wondering," I said, reaching for a roll.
Edward took another sip of coffee, turning it around on me. "Did anyone ever call you Bellie?"
I chuckled, thinking of my father's old nickname for me. "Actually, Charlie did when I was little. I was a chunky toddler. He calls me Bells now." I chewed a piece of bread and thought for a moment. "What about Ed?"
Edward picked up a roll and broke off a piece. "A few guys in college would call me that. Mostly they used my last name, especially after working at the law firm. My father was Edward, too, so it got confusing; they just stuck with Masen."
"That's nice," I said. Although I had only known him for a few days, it was hard to imagine switching to any other name. Just Edward. It suited him well.
"I guess," he said after eating a bite of his roll. "I don't know. I think Masen makes me sound like some chubby kid who lays bricks."
I laughed, thinking of how I had originally had a similar thought when he first learned my name. "What's your middle name?" I asked, continuing the name game.
He clutched his coffee mug. "Guess."
I thought for a moment, going over names in my head that might fit with Edward. "Adam?"
He shook his head.
"James?"
Another no.
I narrowed my eyes, then smiled. "Frankincense?"
"Are you serious?" he asked, cracking a grin. "That's child abuse."
I kept him entertained as I came up with names that were practically ancient, and I never did guess correctly. He never gave me the answer, either; I was beginning to think that he enjoyed keeping me in suspense. Our food came soon after, carried by Doris, so I had no qualms about consuming anything on my plate and didn't have to thoroughly inspect each bite.
Conversation came easily, though I never did get around to asking how long he was staying. I figured I pried at him enough; if he wanted to tell me, I would have to wait. And if I was being honest, I was suddenly hesitant to find out the answer. Anything less than a week would have been depressing—I wasn't ready to see him go so soon.
Though, I couldn't shake the feeling that he would suddenly disappear in the middle of the night without giving so much as a goodbye.
I decided not to think about it too much, even as we trekked up the grueling four flights of stairs to our rooms after dinner. We were well past the twenty-four-hour mark, and I figured he was probably dying to go to sleep, but for some reason, I was nervous about saying goodnight—as though this was the end of a first date.
A simple, 'Well, goodnight and thank you for being my babysitter,' would be quick and witty and leave no room for awkwardness. As I was thinking about it, I misjudged my step and had to grab the banister, quickly bouncing back into step. Edward had caught me by the arm, too, and I sheepishly looked back at him with a laugh.
"Geez, Bella," he teased, making sure I was steady before letting go. "Are you trying to get me to carry you again?"
I smiled. "You can just let me fall, you know. I've been picking myself back up for years."
"You shouldn't have to," he said as we reached the top floor.
I rolled my eyes, grinning. "That was a joke. Not a metaphor to make you feel sorry for me."
"I don't," he said quickly. "It's quite the opposite. You surprise me."
"I surprise you? The man of mystery himself?"
He allowed me a brief curl of his lips before half-sighing. "I realize that I don't know you as well as your family or friends," he said, taking a few steps toward his door. "But I think I've figured out some things. You're shy, but you've got a vibrant personality. You're brave and emotionally strong—much more so than you probably should be, considering. And you make me laugh, which doesn't exactly come easy for me these days. Even your clumsiness is charming."
I listened, wanting to follow up with all of the genuine things that made up his character, but I could tell he had more to say and I didn't want to interrupt. There was still the possibility that I was imagining this as a side effect of my concussion—a noteworthy, romantic delusion.
"You gave me a chance even after I was a complete jerk when we met," he continued in a mellow voice and leaned against the wall between our rooms, leaving me to stand in parallel. "I acted like one a couple more times, as embarrassing as it is for me to admit, but you still were willing to forgive me. And you continued to accept me even when you thought I wasn't trusting of you. Honestly, you're not like anyone I've ever met."
"I…" I laughed softly, speechless.
He smiled and cleared his throat, immediately plunging his fingers through his hair. "Sorry," he said, mistaking my silence as something negative. "If I'm not saying enough, I'm saying too much."
"What? No, you—" I started to say, scrambling for the right words, but he interrupted me.
"Hopefully you'll get a full night's sleep, finally," he said quickly. "Maybe I'll sleep on the floor. That might keep me from waking you up in the middle of the night."
He said it with a halfhearted smile, but I gave him a look. "Don't you dare sleep on the floor," I said firmly. Not only was that ridiculous, but his bed was far too awesome to ignore. I couldn't tell him that, of course, without confessing that I'd been in his room.
"I'm just teasing," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you sure you're feeling better?"
"I'm fine, really," I said. "Though, I'm a little worried about my safety. I wouldn't be surprised if Jessica and Lauren are hiding in my shower, ready to stab me with something. If you hear any screaming, you'll know what's going on."
I smiled jokingly before reaching into my pocket for my key.
"You know, I wouldn't have called management," Edward said suddenly.
I looked up at him. "Huh?"
He ran a hand through his chestnut hair and sighed. "Remember what we talked about the day we met? If you had been the one screaming or crying, banging or anything… I wouldn't have called management. I would have broken down the door, fire poker in hand, ready to kick the shit out of anyone or anything that was hurting you."
Very slowly, my mouth curled into an enamored smile.
"Of course, you probably would have thought I was a psycho," he continued, putting his hands in his pockets. "That would have made it a lot harder for you to trust me, but I doubt it would have stopped me from trying to get to know you."
"Oh?" I said quietly. My head was swimming, in a good way, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
He let his eyes drift to the floor again. "Yes. Although, you really should keep better company."
"Honestly, Edward," I said, my shoulders slumping at his self-doubt. "What kind of company could be better than yours?"
He chuckled darkly. "Anyone's."
"You know, you keep saying that, yet you go and impress me with your little fire-poker-save-the-day speech. How's a girl supposed to keep up with you?"
His green eyes lit up for a moment. "I impressed you, huh?"
"Yes," I replied. "Besides, I've only met you and Mr. Miller. Not that I don't enjoy talks about the importance of fiber, the strategy of capturing the Queen, or whether or not my knees hurt when it rains, but I think you and I might still have some captivating topics we can discuss."
Edward shook his head and laughed. "There's always Doris."
"Oh, well, you try having breakfast with her tomorrow and see how it feels to have your love life meddled with."
I really needed to think before I spoke sometimes. To my relief, Edward let out a quiet, "Ha," as if he didn't understand that the implied love interest was him.
My brow creased as I considered the thought that he might actually want some space. "Of course, I hope you don't feel obligated. You've done so much already and I really appreciate it."
He straightened up and looked at me contritely. "You know I don't mean it like that."
"Then why are you giving yourself such a mental beatdown? I would understand a little more if you decided to keep up your part of the bargain and tell me exactly why I should keep better company. You certainly haven't shown me that—it's been quite the opposite."
He was quiet for a few moments as he shuffled his feet against the carpet. "I'm being selfish, you know," he muttered. "By allowing myself to be completely open with you would be inconsiderate. There's no other way to describe it."
"How?" I asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
Edward rubbed his eyes, looking tired. "I can't explain it."
I slowly blew my breath through my lips and took a step toward him. "Or won't."
"Bella," he said, stepping closer to me until we were almost a foot apart. His chest visibly rose and fell as he took a deep breath "I'll tell you this much. I'm not what you think. You've brought out a better side of me that I haven't seen in a long time, and I can't tell you how good that makes me feel."
He reached over and brushed a strand of my hair away from my face, letting his hand linger on my cheek.
"I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me. I'm just…"
"Selfish?" I repeated, unable to help studying his vivid eyes, which were bright with heartbreaking sadness. "For being around me?"
"Yes," he nearly whispered, pushing his fingers into my hair and gently entwining them in my curls. Little chills were building at the base of my neck and felt ready to shoot through the rest of my body at any given moment.
Whatever he was getting at, I didn't know, and I wasn't able to decipher the hidden boy language that was behind it—frankly, in being this close to him, I didn't care. Without breaking eye contact, and also ignoring my madly thumping heart, I reached over and took his unoccupied hand in both of mine.
"Well, then I guess I'm selfish, too," I said, squeezing his hand.
Edward tilted his head downward to glance at my hands, then looked into my eyes with an intensity that made me feel lightheaded. Then, ever so slowly—in fact, so gradual that it almost made me ache—he leaned close to my face and I reluctantly closed my eyes as I felt his warm breath near my hair. "I really wish you had the sense to stay away," he whispered, but before I could argue with that, I felt his lips lightly touch my forehead.
All of those little chills had skyrocketed through me with a spark and were now on Jupiter.
After a few heavenly moments, Edward pulled back slightly, taking his soft lips with him, and quietly whispered "Goodnight."
He stepped back and I reluctantly let go of his hand.
"Goodnight," I managed to say, although it was more of a glorified exhale.
He gave me one last look before turning and walking to his door and opening it. I stared for only a moment and then quickly fumbled with my key, unlocking my door with shaking hands and going inside. When I was out of sight and safely behind my bedroom door, I couldn't stop a shamefully brilliant smile from coming. I was a bit in awe of what had just happened, and yet I felt a little conflicted.
Before doing something so sweet, he just had to throw in his famous line of how it would be better if I stayed away from him.
But still. He kissed me. Not a Ben-winning-the-bet kind of kiss, but it still counted. And what had started as an ember had suddenly burst into flame.
I was never going to be able to sleep now. And I definitely, definitely needed a cold shower.
Goodnight, indeed.
-:-
