-:-
Wind blew across my eyelids, tickling my skin as though someone was whispering in a feather-like voice across my cheekbones. The feeling was persuasive and I opened my eyes in curiosity, wondering what the scene in front of me could possibly hold that was enough to cajole me from sleep. The air was cool and clean, but thick with fog, nearly obscuring the forest and distorting the images around me. The familiar ground was soft and the grass was comforting, pillowing my body with its cushy patches.
The meadow. I would recognize it anywhere.
I sat up carefully, watching torrents of golden leaves swirl around me, dancing in blustery choreography. They circled me faster and faster, until they blew upward and nearly out of sight; yet one cascaded back down and landed atop my chest, right over my heart. I lifted it by the stem and twirled it in my fingers, examining the spidery, branching veins with interest. Suddenly, a spark of electricity seemed to transfer from the leaf to my hand, and warmth sparked through my arm and rippled through my chest in surging succession. A thick, red stream began to spring up from the stem, pumping through and painting the minuscule canals like blood, growing fuller with color by the second.
The wind impelled past me and blew the leaf from my hand, billowing it forward as the fog parted, revealing a small opening—a space between the green brush and twisted tree trunks. The entrance was dark, reminiscent of a cave, and a lone, loose twig swung down from one of the trees, undulating in rhythm like a curling finger that was beckoning me inside.
I didn't move forward, for there was something compressing my chest, though it remained invisible. It held me back with its pressure, as if cautioning me to remain static. I obediently restrained myself from standing, instead clinging to fistfuls of grass, grounding my fingers into the green tendrils. I watched the shadows change into obscure shapes until sunlight broke through the mist, highlighting over the trees.
Suddenly, a pair of glinted, sinister eyes flashed in the opening, glowing as bright as the sun and making me gasp aloud.
I jerked slightly as my eyes popped open, fully awakening from my dream, and I was met with another fog—a dark, tickling one. Hair was in my eyes. I nestled my face against my pillow, brushing the hunk of hair away, only to realize that I wasn't grasping a pillow like I normally did during sleep. The room was fairly dim, and I saw that I had my arms full of Edward.
I froze, hoping that my movement hadn't been enough to rouse him. Surprisingly, he remained stationary, barely even breathing loud enough for me to hear. "Edward?" I whispered, afraid that he was already awake and keeping quiet for my benefit.
No answer. He was still fast asleep.
I let out a muted breath, relieved that he had lasted this long without interruption—at least, I thought so. I hadn't heard or felt him wake during the night, though I had been out like a light, myself. I carefully craned my neck to peek at his night table, and the digital clock read ten-sixteen.
I felt well-rested, but still thought I could probably close my eyes and drift right back to sleep. Maybe it was the warm, comforting feeling of being so close to him that was the cause, or the fact that I wanted to savor this moment for as long as I possibly could, because I doubted that I'd get another one. As much as I wished it hadn't been so difficult for him, I couldn't bring myself to feel regretful about how we had ended up like this.
What a title. Bella Swan, Spooning-Catharsis Specialist.
Since I was still cuddled up against him like we were wearing Velcro, I figured I should move slowly. I carefully lifted my arm from his waist so I could push myself up a bit. The added height allowed me to have a view of his face—polished eyebrows and eyelashes, a light, impeccable complexion, an almost perfectly-shaped nose, and full, kissable lips.
Yeah, I really needed to get up before my girly parts woke up too quickly and I regressed back to a twelve year-old and had a fantasy make-out session with my pillow. Plus, my morning breath wasn't going to go away on its own.
I gently slid away from him, tucking the comforter around his back to fill in the space where I had been, and got out of bed. He barely moved, only shifting slightly with a quiet exhale. I walked around to his side of the bed and tugged the curtains to block the light from the windowpanes, and turned to give him one more look. His face was half-hidden by his pillow, and he was still calm, quiet, and quite frankly, adorable. I couldn't help combing my fingers through his hair, brushing it off his face, and lightly pressing my lips against his temple before walking to the door.
The feelings I had were unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome by any means. I never thought I would feel so strongly for someone in such a simple number of days. I couldn't deny that something new had grown between us overnight. I wasn't in love—not only was it much too soon, but also ridiculous—but a stronger feeling than just liking him was there.
It was still totally against my rules, and honestly, he needed a friend first.
I carefully picked up my keys and quietly shut his door so that it barely made a sound, and turned to walk to my room.
And promptly froze.
I stared directly at Jessica Stanley, who was busy dusting the banister, her earphones buzzing with indistinct music. Her mouth fell open as she spotted me, ripping out her earphones and staring me down. Her face flushed a royal shade of pink—after all, I'd just walked out of Edward's room, wearing Edward's shirt, and I looked like I was taking the walk of shame. I knew that I had just completely doused every one of her hot, fantasy panty-dates that she ever could have conjured up.
I could feel that my cheeks were close to matching hers, but that didn't stop me from smiling. She let the can of dusting spray fall from her hands, and it made a loud clunk as it hit the floor and rolled, echoing as it bounced down the stairs.
"You might want to be quiet," I finally said. "He's still sleeping."
The way her eyebrows knitted together in a perfect 'v' made me almost lose it. I hurried to my room, barely holding back laughter, and quickly shut the door behind me, thinking that I probably needed to put a chair under the knob. Now that Jessica thought Edward and I had been dirty dancing, mattress-style, I was fairly sure that an animal carcass really was going to end up under my comforter, thanks to Whores-truly.
Bolting my door and snickering under my breath, I pulled off Edward's shirt and folded it into a neat square. I was planning on keeping it for as long as I could get away with, so I placed it under one of my pillows. If anything, I could make the excuse that I wanted to wash it before I gave it back; although, I might not. It still smelled like him, and I would probably wear it to bed again later that night—unless he invited me to stay in that glorious bed of his again.
In the shower, the warm water brought some comfort after a night of getting rained on, and I had fun playing with the different scented shampoos Renée had packed for me, mixing Apple Aphrodisiac with Sugar Cane Succulence; leave it to my mother to give me sultry-sounding hair care products. After I had gotten dressed and fixed my hair, I grabbed my purse and my key, locking my door (hoping that Doris was the only one who took care of her beloved fourth floor rooms instead of the evil blondsey-twins), and walked down the hall to Edward's door.
I didn't want him to think that I had just high-tailed it out of his room sometime during the night, or had a regretful 'morning-after' moment, even if all we had done was sleep. I dug in my purse, scrounging for a piece of paper; in the end, all I had was one of the postcards I hadn't yet sent to my family, but it would have to do. I held the card against the banister, trying to think of what to write.
Dear Edward… In fear that I would start dry-humping you while you were still asleep, I excused myself.
I shook my head and started writing, trying not to think too hard about it:
Edward,
I figured you must be exhausted, so I didn't want to wake you.
I really hope you're feeling better and that sleep brought you
some peace.
It's a little past eleven and I thought you
might like some time to yourself once you're up, so I'll be
downstairs in the meantime. But I'd like your company later,
if you wouldn't mind mine.
-Bella
Also, I'm glad you asked me to stay. I wouldn't have
traded it for anything.
I stared at the last part, thinking maybe I should start over. 'I wouldn't have traded it for anything…' Fatal Attraction 2: Psychotic Swan.
Sighing, I knew that I probably would have spilled the truth sooner or later, and at least writing it saved me the embarrassment of actually speaking it aloud to his face. I supposed I could just slip the note under the door, although I realized as I bent down that there was a pretty tight seal between the door and the floor. There was no way I'd leave it in the hallway, in fear that it would be picked up by Jessica or Lauren—or God forbid, Doris. Something told me that she wouldn't exactly judge me, but would feel the need to mercilessly embarrass me further during our next meal. 'So, Mr. Masen, Isabella…did you two have a nice sleepover? Was the bed big enough for both of you?' Edward or I would probably need the Heimlich maneuver.
I guessed that left leaving it in his room.
Tentatively, I turned the doorknob and peeked inside. Edward was still in bed, on his back this time, one arm outstretched over his head, but his eyes were still closed. I crept over to the night table and set the note down, pausing to trace my fingers along the edge of one of the downy pillows. He'd pushed the comforter away from the top half of his body, and just the way his arm was invitingly stretched out and his t-shirt was exposing just a bit of skin on his side made me have a slight urge to crawl back into bed beside him. If I didn't leave now, I'd probably dive in for sure, so I reluctantly walked back out, gently closed his door, and made my way downstairs.
Passing time was not as easy as I had imagined it would be. Doris was out on an errand, as I was told by another staff member sitting behind the manager's desk, and Mr. Miller was nowhere to be found, either. Here I was, finally presented with the opportunity to have some time to myself, like I'd originally planned since my arrival, and now I was disappointed because I had no one to hang out with. It figured.
Over the next few hours, I busied myself with lunch (which really felt like breakfast), reading magazines and having random conversations with a few of the older women, who still pressed to set me up with their sons and grandsons. I made a quick exit after that, taking an apple from the buffet and deciding to sit outside, as the sunny weather had returned. I sat at one of the picnic tables in the back, enjoying the apple and the sun on my face and wind in my hair. If I closed my eyes and tried to envision myself in a bathing suit instead of jeans and a sweater, it was almost like being back at the beach. It was probably still in the eighties back home. Though I couldn't deny that I was loving the feeling of the fall weather.
After daydreaming for what seemed like forever, I pulled my phone out of my purse and glanced at the time. It was after four o'clock. I started to feel a little concerned. I knew Edward said that he would be knocked out for a while, but did it normally last this long? I wasn't positive what time we had fallen asleep; if I was going to guess, it was probably around two-thirty or three AM, which meant he'd been sleeping for at almost fourteen hours. Maybe he just needed to recuperate after using up so much energy, which he really didn't seem to have much of anyway. I stretched my arms and shoulders, trying to dispel the impulse to go and check on him.
"Hey," came a soft voice and a tap on my shoulder, which made me spin around with a startled gasp. I looked up to see Edward standing there, eyes shining, looking at me with a slight smile. "Sorry to scare you."
"It's okay," I said in a relived breath, a smile spreading across my face. I was pleasantly surprised by his appearance. He hadn't looked this good since a few days back when we'd gone to Port Angeles; today, he looked even better. Ample hours of sleep had brought an immeasurable amount of life back into him—he had color in his cheeks and actually seemed relaxed, contrasting the innumerable tension that had plagued his entire body all week. "I was just wondering if you were still sleeping. I thought you might be giving a bear a run for its money."
"Well, at least it's still daylight," he said, chuckling, and took a seat beside me. "I woke up about forty minutes ago, maybe. I figured I still had time to make up for being such boring company." He paused. "Thanks for the note."
"You're welcome," I said warmly. "I'm glad you slept."
"Half the day away," he said, looking up at the sun, which had moved significantly west of the tree line. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, very exciting stuff," I said, spinning the browned apple core by its stem. "I read. I chatted. I watched some servers clean up the lunch buffet. I was offered a few phone numbers of some of Forks' finest gentlemen."
Edward raised his eyebrows, amused. "Is that so?"
"Mm-hmm," I said breezily. "Couldn't beat their mothers and grandmothers away from me fast enough."
He laughed. "Have you called them yet?"
"I might," I teased. "I suppose it depends on whether or not I have plans later."
Edward smiled and leaned his head on his fist, gazing at me with his gorgeous eyes. "Well, I wouldn't blame you if you needed a break from me."
"Oh, stop," I said, giving him a gentle shove. "How are you feeling?"
"Really good, actually," he said, eyeing the tabletop as he tapped his fingers over the grainy wood, a refreshing grin crossing his face. "It's been awhile since I've said that. I mean—" He looked a little sheepish. "I sound pretty depressing, huh?"
"No, not at all," I said, slipping my thumbs through the crannies in my sweater sleeves. "You've been through hell. If I went through the things you have, I don't even know how I'd feel, if I could still even manage to feel. But… I'm happy you feel good today."
He looked away with a smile, still slowly moving his one of his hands across the splintered ridges. It was looking better, too, having almost healed from punching the Port Angeles idiots into surrender. I studied his movement for a few seconds; there was almost a careful precision about the way he moved—it wasn't just a random motion. When it suddenly dawned on me what he might be doing, I stared at him, biting back a laugh. He seemed to feel my gaze, because his fingers froze and he narrowed his eyes to me.
"What?" he asked, curious.
"Are you playing yourself some air piano?"
Edward pursed his lips and slowly curled his fingers into a fist, giving me an embarrassed grin. "Uh, yeah," he said. "It's a habit, I guess."
I smirked. It was the cutest damn thing I'd ever seen him do. "Anyone I know?" I said, drumming my fingertips on the table, too.
"Just something of my own."
He was so charming, I couldn't help grinning and staring off at the trees; I was thankful for the breeze at that moment.
He watched me for a second, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his folded hands. "Do I embarrass you?" he asked in interest.
I gave him a peculiar look. "Huh? No."
"You're blushing," he conveyed, still studying my face.
"Yeah, you noticed I do that a lot, huh?" I said. It was my turn to look sheepish.
"I mean, it's lovely, but I'm just hoping that I don't make you feel uncomfortable."
"You're making it worse," I said, managing a laugh, putting my hands over my cheeks. "But you're not making me uncomfortable, you're…" Kind of turning me on. "Making me feel things I'm not used to feeling. Good things, I promise," I added quickly, pushing my hair back.
I hoped this was all as amusing to him as it felt for me.
Then without hesitation, he held his hand out. I stared, feeling my heart pick up a bit, and clasped his hand. He tugged me gently, pulling me closer, even though I had already moved in on my own before he had done anything. He put his other hand behind my shoulder and leaned in slightly, and I swallowed.
"I thought I was alone in that feeling," he said, and chills escalated through me as his hand rested on my lower back.
I shook my head slowly. "No," I whispered, placing my unoccupied hand on his knee. "You're not alone."
Suddenly, we were too close for eye contact. The green in his eyes blurred slightly, then everything darkened as my eyelids dropped, and the familiar aroma of soap, spice, and vanilla invaded my senses. I felt almost dizzy as he slid his hand up my neck and pulled me closer until I could feel his breath on my lips.
"And then I told him he could watch it at the tavern if he wanted, because I wasn't about to postpone my Sunday knitting with the girls because of a damned football game!"
Edward and I jumped apart, turning toward the voices. Two women were walking out of the back door, arm-in-arm, heading straight toward us. One of them chuckled and nodded in response, while the one who had spoken before continued.
"The Seahawks weren't even on until Monday, anyway. I don't know why he cares about the Ravens!" She stopped as she spotted Edward and me sitting so close to one another, and grinned brightly. "Oh, sorry to interrupt, kids! Carry on!" she called, turning back to the other woman.
Both of them continued walking, but not before glancing back at us with profound interest, subdued chuckles, and knowing smiles.
Edward exhaled and I gathered my hair at the base of my neck, twisting it as the women's voices diminished, leaving us listening to the wavelike wind.
Man. We had gotten so close.
I glanced up at Edward, who pressed his lips together and looked at me with a sort of contemplation.
"Do you ever get the feeling that we're under some sort of quilting-circle scrutiny?" he asked quietly.
I nodded, finally letting a small laugh escape my lips. "Constantly. Do you want to get out of here?"
He smiled widely. "Please," he answered, taking my hands and pulling me up from the bench.
I tossed my apple core down the hill, figuring that some little woodland creature would appreciate it. I grabbed my purse and we both walked around to the front of the lodge and into the parking lot.
"Do you have everything you need?" I asked him. "I can drive us if you're ready."
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, looking down the line of cars. "Which one's yours?"
I sucked in a small breath through my teeth and gave him a curious smile. "Guess."
Edward put his hands in his pockets and looked around, eventually smirking and pointing to the Senior Sunrise van. I playfully smacked his arm. "No!" I said, laughing. "Smart ass. Try again."
He chuckled and gestured to a small, plum-colored, box-shaped car. "Nope," I answered, digging in my purse for my keys. "One more guess."
"Well, it's not like you drive something like that, right?"
I looked up to find that he was pointing to none other than my very own rust-bucket of a truck. I sighed and raised my eyebrows, holding my Chevy key up so he could see. He peered curiously at my keys for a moment, turned back to my truck, and brought his gaze back to me with wide eyes.
"That's your—?" he asked, creasing his eyebrows and staring at my truck much like Jessica had the first day I saw her. "Well, I'd say vehicle, but I'm not sure that could pass as a capable mode of transportation."
My mouth dropped in mock annoyance and I breezed past him to the driver's side door. "Well, not everyone has a shiny, snooty Volvo, Gustaf Larson. Think you can try something new for a day?"
I opened my driver's side door, hoisted myself up and got in the truck. I looked back at him expectantly.
He remained standing in the parking lot. "Who's Gustaf Larson?" he asked.
"One of the Volvo founders."
An impish smile crossed his face. "I wouldn't have taken you for the car type. How'd you know that?"
"Who doesn't know that?"
He creased his eyebrows, giving me a comical look.
"I may or may not have read it in a magazine this morning," I admitted with a grin. "Anyway, are you getting in? Or do I have to write you an invitation?"
He hesitated, still smirking. "Do you drive like you walk?"
In mock injury, I clutched my chest. "Ouch, Masen."
He barked a laugh as he walked to the passenger door. "As long as you're sure we'll get there in the next couple of days,"
As Edward got in, I closed my door and ran my hand along my truck's dashboard as I usually did. "Don't listen to him, baby. You could crush that Volvo in two seconds."
He laughed again and buckled his seatbelt after he'd shut himself inside. "Ah. Manual windows."
"You are really asking for it," I said, chuckling as I watched him roll down his window and rest his arm on the door. As he looked around at the interior, he ran his fingers through his thick hair, and then looked over at me expectantly.
"So, does she come with helmets?"
"Used to," I replied cheekily, rolling down my own window. "I never replaced them after the last incident."
My Chevy roared to life as I turned on the ignition and Edward grabbed the windowsill with his hand. He turned to me to make another remark, I was sure, but the look on my face must have deterred him. He simply gave a curved smile, snickering under his breath. I returned his peculiar little grin, and slowly backed out of the space and started down the long, winding hill to the main road.
"You've got to be starving," I said. "Do you want to go to get some food? Or should I say, 'breakfast'?"
"Sure," he answered pleasantly.
It was really a treasure to see him in such a good mood and smiling so much. I paid attention to the road, but couldn't help giving nonchalant (at least I hoped they appeared that way) glances in his direction. He was casually resting his head against the seat, pausing now and then to look out the window, appearing content.
As I braked for a red light, I didn't believe he could do anything else to make himself look more appealing. But then he subtly licked his bottom lip, let out a soft sigh, and trailed his hand through his hair, his fingers performing five miracles as they parted his hair.
"I don't believe you," I said matter-of-factly, giving him a curious stare.
He turned toward me, the wind rustling his hair, and his face mirrored mine. "Why, what did I do?"
"You say you're not a mind reader," I joked, routinely smacking the dashboard of my truck as it rattled. Edward smirked when the sound stopped. "But sometimes when I think certain things, you do them, or say exactly what's in my head. I think you're more telepathic than you let on."
"Still not sure what I did," he said with a grin, but then came back with, "but I could say the same for you."
"Me?" I echoed, turning my attention back to the road as the light changed. "I never know what's going on in your head. How did I suddenly become clairvoyant?"
He was quiet for a few moments before answering. "Well, last night for instance, right before we fell asleep. When you hugged me, you have no idea how much I needed that. That was exactly what I was hoping for before you did it."
Well, it was good news to me that I had been comforting to him, after all, instead of a clinger. "I'm glad you were okay with it. I was hoping you weren't thinking I was trying to pull a Jessica."
He laughed. "It was far better than okay."
I spent a little too long watching his face light up, distracted, and nearly missed a stop sign. I braked hard, squealing to a jerking stop just in time to inch over the painted, white line on the road.
"Sorry," I said with a quick breath, looking back at Edward, who had gripped the door with his hand. "You'll never drive with me again, will you?"
"I'll just have you write up a waiver for me to sign next time," he said, grinning, before tugging on his seatbelt. "At least these old things held."
"You know what," I laughed. "Just wait until we get out of this car. I'm going to tackle you."
"We'll see," he said teasingly.
We drove further into town before stopping at a local restaurant. While we were eating, I got a lot of stares and 'Aren't you Charlie Swan's little girl?' as if I was still wearing pigtails and a training bra. I made a mental note to call Charlie and ask if he'd shown off my picture or something, because it was beyond me how everyone recognized me before they knew my name; I guess Charlie and I looked more alike than I'd ever realized.
When we finished, Edward went to the restroom and I walked outside, deciding to give Angela a quick call. "Good news?" came her hopeful voice, even before a hello.
I chuckled as I answered, "If you mean how are things with Edward, then yes, very good news."
"Well, thank God," she said, "because I was just about to call you and ask if you both would want to meet Ben and me at Peak's Pub. It's a bar up in Port Angeles, right off of Lincoln Street. There's some kind of man-hugging event going on."
I smiled as I heard Ben's voice call out, "It's the MMA fight, Ang. Mixed Martial Arts, not hugging."
"Well, it looks like that to me," she said, giggling. "And I was hoping to have a girl to talk to amidst all the hooting boys. Would you guys like to come hang out?"
"Yeah, sure. Let me ask Edward," I said, wondering if he would be up for it. He'd gotten more than enough sleep, but he still had a rough night. "What time are you going to go?"
"We're having dinner at Michael's now," she said. "We should be done in an hour or so."
I told her I'd talk to Edward and call her back, hung up, and leaned against the side of the wall to wait for him to come outside. I knew there was more to be said, pertaining to Edward's past, but right now, he seemed content. Maybe he would want to do something normal for a change, instead of going back to the lodge for another promiscuous hallway attack where horny girls sucked on his neck. Not that I would be opposed to the opportunity of getting my lips on his neck, as he seemed to be okay with me. Then again, I wasn't Jessica Stanley, Skankwhore Extraordinaire.
The door to the restaurant swished open after a minute and Edward walked out, his expression looking a little funny. "Everything okay?" I asked, and he turned toward me as I spoke, having not seen me right away.
"Oh, yeah," he said, his face instantly clearing any evidence that he might have felt anything other than ease. He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. "I feel like I just woke up and it's already getting dark. I can't even begin to think of what I'm going to do with myself when you start feeling tired."
"I'm not tired at all," I said honestly. "Do you feel like doing something else? I just called Angela. She and Ben are in Port Angeles and are going to a bar called Peak's to watch some martial arts fight. If you don't mind taking the drive up there, would you want to meet up with them?"
Edward raised his eyebrows curiously.
"If you don't feel up to it, that's fine," I said quickly. "I thought you might like to just… I don't know, do something different, but—"
Edward cracked a grin, seeming entertained by my blabbering. "No, that sounds great. Just… Angela and Ben? As in Angela Weber and Ben, the paramedic who found my wallet? They know each other?"
I blinked, realizing that I'd never filled Edward in on the fact that my concussion had reunited the two, or even that they'd gone to high school together and were now dating. Or as Angela bashfully put it, 'sort of going out to places together, sometimes.' "I'll tell you about it in the car," I said, waving him along.
The ride to Port Angeles took a bit longer than the first time we had gone, considering that my truck could barely get past fifty miles an hour without making strange noises. I put Edward in charge of the music and he spent a few minutes flipping through my small book of CDs, grinning at the many rock bands that made appearances in the pages.
"Sorry, I don't have any Ludovico Einaudi," I said with a grin. "You'll have to burn me a copy so I can be as sophisticated as you."
He laughed and shook his head. "Yes, I'm so classy," he joked, slipping Three Doors Down into my CD player. "But if you'd like me to, I will."
I held back from telling him that I'd probably wear out the entire CD within a month's time from nonstop playback.
We parked down the street from the bar and spotted Angela and Ben waiting outside as we rounded the corner.
"Hey guys," said Ben warmly, giving us a wave. We all exchanged hellos before Angela put her arm around me and led me in front of the guys, leaving them to talk behind us.
"Wow," said Angela in a hushed voice, gently nudging her elbow into my side. "Edward looks rather nourished today. What have you two been doing?"
Spooning.
"Nothing crazy," I assured her. "Just talking."
"Talking," Angela repeated, turning back to glance at Edward. "Well, you must have really talked him back to health. This is the best I've ever seen him look. You know who he reminds me of?"
"One of those mythological Greek gods?" I said aloud, very accidentally. I whipped my head around to see if Edward or Ben had heard me. Luckily, they were engrossed in their own conversation. Angela laughed and grabbed my arm, pulling me into the raucous bar.
"I was going to say the guy in the new Redken for Men shampoo commercial that I keep seeing on TV, but I guess I should brush up on my Greek Mythology."
Peak's was brightly lit and swarming with loud voices and laughter from the surrounding patrons. As Angela predicted, it was packed with guys who had congregated at the bar and red-topped tables, all craning their necks in the direction of the televisions mounted on the different walls. The smell of fried food permeated the air, due to the endless baskets of chicken wings and onion rings that adorned almost every table.
We picked a hightop table near the back, and I hung my purse and hoodie over the back of the chair next to Edward's. I accidentally brushed my leg against his as I took my seat.
"Sorry," I told him, not sorry at all.
He nudged my leg in return, giving me a small smile that made my palms sweat, and then Ben started informing us all about the MMA fight that was coming on. Most of the information went over my head, but Edward seemed to understand every word coming out of Ben's mouth; I supposed men were just born with the ability to comprehend sports of all kind.
Angela and I shared amused looks and made small talk until Ben suddenly turned his attention to me.
"So, Bella," Ben asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Did I ever win that bet?"
I stared at him, pressing my lips together. Growing up, I'd always wished for a sibling, and having Ben openly tease me was enough to let me experience what could have been with a brother (although a sibling might have been disgusted about this topic). Edward and Angela exchanged a look and stared at us both in curiosity.
"As a matter of fact, no, you didn't," I said with a self-conscious smile, thinking that if Angela looked confused, that probably meant he hadn't spilled any of my ambulance-blabbering, either. "So, that means I win. Would you like to pay up now or later?"
Ben crinkled his nose as I held out my hand, playfully wiggling my fingers. "Huh," he said, a bit puzzled, and looked at Edward. "Really? Get it together, man."
I could have snorted when Angela and Edward concurrently asked, "What?"
"Don't you dare," I said quickly to Ben, starting to laugh before he could embarrass the hell out of me.
"I won't, I won't," he said playfully, holding up his hands in surrender. "I guess I'll go get us some drinks." He stood up from the table and looked at Edward. "Want to come?"
Edward followed suit. "Sure."
"To celebrate your win, Bella, drinks are on me," said Ben. "What would you like?"
"Um…" I said, thinking.
"Greek Sex on the Beach," Angela blurted out.
If I had already been drinking something, I would have spit it all over the table. I balked, slowly turning my head in her direction. I turned as red as the rosy tabletop.
"She'll have one of those. I hear they're amazing," she continued, kicking my ankle under the table, stopping me from a laughing fit.
I managed to say, "Sure, that works."
The boys shared a glance, and then stared at us with identically confused, yet entertained expressions, before Ben asked, "What do you want, Ang?"
"Get her a Frisky Benjamin," I said before Angela could answer, keeping my eyes away from her face so I didn't lose it. I really struggled though as Ben raised his eyebrows and asked ever-so-seriously, "What's in that?"
I had no clue as I had just made it up.
"SoCo soda with lime and cranberry I think," I spouted off the top of my head.
Ben tapped the table with his hands. "All right, then," he said, and he and Edward left to go to the bar. As soon as Angela and I made eye contact, we both cracked up, sounding like a pair of cackling crazy people.
"Greek Sex on the Beach?" I said, once I finally got myself under control.
She snickered. "At least that's a real drink! Though what you described sounds really good."
"How's it going with Mr. Frisky, anyway?" I asked, leaning over the table and lowering my voice, though it was hardly necessary with a bunch of guys shouting around us.
Her eyes radiated with delight as she shrugged her shoulders. "Um," she said shyly, tapping her fingers on the edge of the table. Her cheeks were still flushing pink. "He kissed me tonight, so I guess that means everything's going well."
"Oh, reeeally?" I teased, giving her a broad smile. "Congratulations, lovebird. I knew I should have turned that bet around on him."
"What is that about, anyway?" she asked. "Your face went beet-red when he said that."
"I figured as much," I said, and proceeded to tell her about Ben's prediction that unfortunately hadn't come true, but also told her how close we'd been earlier—but were interrupted by Red Timber's own Teen Girl Squad. Or to put it more accurately, the Elderly Cougar Squad.
"No wonder Ben looked surprised," she said, glancing over at the bar and back to me. "I can't believe you two haven't tied your tongues in little sexy bows before now, either. I'm going to have to have a talk with that boy."
"Oh, no you will not," I said.
She just smiled.
Edward and Ben came back moments later, each carrying a bottle of what I assumed to be beer in one hand and a cocktail in the other. Edward set the fruity glass in front of me and moved his chair so he could sit down. I could have been mistaken, but it seemed that he had scooted it a bit closer to me in contrast to where it had originally been. Pleased, I thanked Ben for the drink and pretended not to notice when I let my elbow brush against Edward's as he got settled.
Eventually, the "big fight" started and it was nearly impossible to have a conversation, as most people in the bar, including Ben, were grunting and hollering at the TV screens with dynamic enthusiasm. Angela sat back, seeming to enjoy observing her new man get so excited over the match, and would nod eagerly when he turned to her to explain about the "Flying Scissor Heel Hook" and a "Japanese Backpack" move.
Edward kept an eye on the screen, too, but he remained much calmer than the rest of the group, appearing happily relaxed. It was nice to see him this way, and I was so glad to not see the heavy weight of grief and exhaustion in his eyes tonight.
As time passed, my eyes drifted more towards him in between stretches of the television. Just observing how condensation trickled over his fingers and the way his lips touched the brim of the bottle whenever he took a drink was enough to make me forget what was going on onscreen. I quickly found myself sucking down my cold, sweet cocktail to cool down my libido.
Though, throughout the night, I managed to find more ways to touch him without being too obvious. Now and again, I would slide my arm across his to reach for a napkin or graze his knee with mine as I hopped down from the tall chair whenever Angela and I went to the bathroom or up to the bar to get everyone refills. Maybe it was the slightly warm, fuzzy feeling the alcohol brought, but I couldn't help but notice that when Edward rested his arm across the back of my chair, his knuckles would brush against my back every now and again. The best was when he would lean over to say something close to my ear and casually slide his hand around my waist, giving me the gentlest squeeze. Even though we weren't strangers to each other's contact, it was playfully fun and I was loving it.
I guess I was a little too obvious in paying more attention to Edward than the fight, because Ben eventually called me out during a commercial.
"Describe what you've been watching without using the term 'man-hugging,' Bella, and I'll give you an extra twenty bucks," he told me with a grin.
"Sorry," I laughed, "I prefer sports with balls in them."
"I bet," Angela snorted, which sent us into hysterics—even the boys.
It was nearing midnight once the fight was over, and though most of the other people in the bar bought themselves another round, we all opted to call it a night. Angela was looking sleepy and even Ben looked a bit heavy-eyed.
"Curse of the graveyard shift," Angela said with a bashful smile. "Our sleep schedules are completely messed up."
Edward and I shared a look. He could sympathize, that was for sure.
On our way out, Angela pressed a little blue bead into my hand. "Bite down on that," she said softly, nudging my side gently. "Liquid mints. That way, you won't taste like alcohol. You know, I could point you in the direction of La Push so you can have your Greek sex on the beach."
"I'm telling Doris you have a boyfriend whose midnight name is 'Frisky Pants Benj'—" I responded just as quietly, but she cut me off with a laugh, shushing me as Ben and Edward followed us outside where the volume was significantly lower. After we said our goodbyes, Edward and I stood on the corner for a few moments, watching Ben and Angela walk away.
"I'm pretty sure I'm okay to drive," I said to Edward after we were alone, knowing that the touch of wooziness left inside of me was probably not quite due to the Peach SoCo I'd consumed. I was intoxicated by something else entirely. "But 'pretty sure' isn't absolute, so do you mind waiting around for a little while?"
"No, I don't mind," Edward said and held out his hand. "Want to take a walk? We're not too far from the water."
I thought back to Angela's comment and almost laughed.
"Sure," I said, sliding my hand into his warm one. It was nice to hold his hand for a reason other than attempting to ease some sort of pain that he was going through, and as comforting as all the other caresses had been, I couldn't deny that I liked this feeling the most. I quickly popped the mint Angela had given me into my mouth, bit down, and blinked as an overwhelming vanilla-peppermint flavor burst over my tongue.
We headed in the direction of the water and Edward interlocked his fingers with mine. The air was cold and clear, and felt so crisp that I wished it was possible to take a bite out of it, to taste the singularity of autumn. Amber-colored lights gave the harbor dock a serene ambiance, and I huddled close to Edward, wondering how he could stand walking around without a coat all the time.
My toe hit a raised board on the pier and I stumbled but stabilized myself by grabbing onto a bench; well, that, and Edward keeping me upright, as our hands were still interlocked. He chuckled good-naturedly as he said, "Do I have to buy you a new pair of shoes?"
"More like a new pair of feet," I told him.
"Come here," he said, taking a seat on the bench and pulling me down next to him.
I tensed at the chilly breeze and wrapped my arms around myself, thinking that Edward wasn't the only one who needed a jacket. "It's getting cold."
Almost immediately, Edward put his arm around my shoulders and drew me closer to his body, warming me from top to bottom. "Better?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, crossing my legs and angling myself so I could cuddle up to his chest. "Though that wasn't a line to get you to do this."
"Oh no?"
"Maybe a little bit."
He laughed, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. It dawned on me then that this was the first time I had actually seen the stars since I had arrived. A cloudless night in Washington… Renee would never believe me.
"Thank you for spending time with me tonight," Edward spoke lightly, after a period of quiet. "It felt good to get out for a while. I haven't done that in a long time—be with people and hang out, that is. It was really nice."
I nodded against his chest. "I had fun, too."
"I wish I could tell you how much it means to me," he said, his voice a perfect vocal against the symphonic swell of the distant waves.
I leaned my head into his shoulder. "There's no need to thank me. I feel the same way, you know."
He moved slightly and I could suddenly feel his breath on my hair, the heat contrasting the chill of the wind. And if wasn't mistaken, I could smell traces of peppermint. Had Angela slipped him a mint, too? Sneaky girl.
"Could I ask a question? Or two, actually?" he asked, rubbing my arm gently.
"Sure," I said, lifting my head so that I could see him.
"First," he said, with a smile, "what do you put in your hair?"
I automatically reached back and grabbed a handful of my hair, hoping it didn't smell weird for some reason. "Um… shampoo?" I answered unsurely.
Edward chuckled and pulled my hand down. "I don't mean it in a bad way," he said with an amused undertone. "It smells really nice. Kind of hypnotizing."
"Oh?"
"Yup. I have total hair envy."
"You should be speaking into a mirror," I said, laughing. "But thank you. Apple and sugar cane, if you want specifics scents. What was your other question?"
He gave me a mischievous grin. "I'm just curious what kind of bet you and Ben had going."
"He didn't tell you?" I asked, figuring that Ben might have joked about it once they had left the table to get us drinks. Edward shook his head. "Man, he's a good secret keeper."
"Not going to tell me then?"
"If you must know," I said, straightening up, my heart fluttering a bit, "that night in the ambulance, after you left to drive back to the lodge, Ben found it funny that you and I had only met two days ago. I guess of the way we were acting around each other. He said—well, he said that he'd give it three days before we were joined at the lips. And I challenged it."
Edward smiled and looked down before glancing over at the boats and the reflecting starlight on the water. "Oh," he said melodiously, bringing his eyes back to me. "Well. I never thought I'd be so disappointed to hear you be right about something."
I paused, managing a small laugh, but I felt half-frozen, completely absorbed by his words and the way he was looking at me.
"You look so nervous," he almost whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.
I exhaled shakily, smiling, and reached up to take his unwavering hand. "You look so calm," I complained jokingly. "I wish I could keep my heart under control the way you can."
Edward laughed quietly. "Bella," he said simply, then turned my hand around and pressed it snugly against his chest. My mouth parted in surprise as I felt his heart thumping under my palm, matching my own heart rate. I gazed up at him, surprised by the fact that under his collected exterior, he was actually nervous or excited—maybe both—from being around me.
"You have an impressive poker face," I said, sliding my hand out from his and trailing my fingers up along his neck.
He grinned. "I guess that's what happens at law school. We learn to hide our secrets."
I wet my lips, pursing them in musing. "But I can see you, now," I said, brushing my fingers lightly along his jaw line and up to his cheek. "You're genuine. You're kind. Every bit of you is wonderful."
I watched as slight hesitation and insecurity flickered through his eyes, which I wasn't shocked to see. I knew he didn't think of himself the way I described, but I was being honest, and I couldn't hide my feelings from him, no matter how much they scared me. But then he surprised me by wrapping both arms around me, hugging me close. When I felt his thermal lips touch my forehead, I enfolded my hands behind his head, curling my fingers into his hair.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered, tilting my chin so that our faces were even closer, then placed a kiss on my cheekbone, and I closed my eyes at the blissful feeling that was making my head swim.
"You're beautiful. You know that? The loveliest person I've ever met," he breathed, kissing right by the corner of my mouth. "God forgive me."
And then, all the warmth that was mounting in my body doubled as he pressed his lips to mine in slow, perfect precision. The feeling of pleasure rushed all the way to my fingertips, and I reciprocated the pressure on his mouth, taking the time to savor the touch and sensation of his soft lips. Edward sighed gently and moved his hand around to the back of my head, pulling me closer and continuing the slow motion of molding his mouth to mine. We fit together flawlessly, and I let my hands trace his shoulders and the contours of his back. As his chest pressed against mine, I could feel my body start to tremble.
Or not. Something was vibrating. And ringing.
His phone.
We broke apart gradually, reluctantly, and both stared down from where the sound was coming. I swallowed, feeling a little lightheaded, and looked at Edward. "That's not me," I said faintly and he nodded.
"I know," he said, barely audible, and I moved back as he slid his hand into his pocket to remove his phone. He stared at the number, his face becoming serious, and then gave me a quick glance. "One minute," he said in a whisper before standing up and walking down the pier.
I let my breath out, still starstruck over what had just happened, but as I peeked at Edward, I couldn't help but sense that he wasn't just taking a friendly phone call. He spoke in near-whispers, far enough away that I couldn't make out the words—though, he mostly seemed to listen. I watched his movements and my heart slowly sank deeper into my chest by the second. The rough treatment of raking his hand through his hair and gripping sections of his shirt, and the brisk pacing—not a great sign.
He was classically slipping back into the nervous motions that I'd pushed to the back of my mind, in the hope they wouldn't resurface for a while.
When he finally hung up, he didn't turn toward me or make a move to walk back. Instead, he leaned against a pole and put his head in his hand, turning so his back was to me. I stood up quickly, unsure if I should wait for him to turn around or if I should go and make sure he was okay.
It didn't take me long to decide. I cautiously walked down the pier, growing more anxious as I approached him. "Hey," I said quietly. "Is everything all right?"
I heard him exhale softly. When he turned to face me, my shoulders slumped as I realized that all of the sparkling hope and placating happiness had left his eyes. He had regressed back into a shaky, upset state and looked like he wanted to throw up.
"Who—what's the matter?" I asked, reaching out and taking a hold of his arms. "Are you okay?"
"No," he said, reaching up to rub his eyes, then squeezing one of my shoulders gently. "I'm not feeling well. Do you think we could drive back?"
My stomach felt solid as I watched different emotions ebb and flow in his expression, and couldn't deny that he did suddenly seem unwell, but I knew that couldn't be the whole truth. I stared at the phone in his hand, wanting to snatch it and chuck it into the water. Whoever had been on the other end—or whatever message he had received—was responsible for his change in demeanor and I felt strangely defensive for him.
"Yeah, of course," I answered, watching him hastily stuff his phone back into his pocket. "Are you—I mean, is it—"
"It's nothing," he replied quickly, moving back toward the sidewalk. His gentle manner and pleasant voice had vanished; the brief reprieve, which he'd needed so much, was over, and he now appeared to be unsteadily holding himself together, probably for appearances' sake.
"Edward," I said, taking his hand, trying to stop him.
"I said it's nothing." He gruffly removed his hand from mine and continued walking, only stopping to wait when I grabbed my purse from the bench.
I huffed under my breath, slighted by his terse tone. "Well, it must be something. I'm not an idiot." He gave me a fleeting look of guilt and I gave the bench one last glance as we started walking again.
Thanks for the memories, I thought.
I matched Edward's quickened pace as we walked down the street so that he didn't have to slow his stride on my account. As we got into my truck, I prayed to God that it wasn't going to have one of its random, bitchy problems that would keep it from starting. Mercifully, it roared to life with gusto and I began driving back, thankful that I recognized where I was going. Edward had pressed himself against the passenger door, leaning his head on the window, and was now staring vaguely through the glass; he didn't seem in the mood to be asked for directions.
I kept my eyes on the practically empty road, but couldn't keep myself from glancing at him from time to time. He stared straight ahead and didn't even look at me when I reached over to rub his arm when I noticed that his breathing had grown louder.
"Do you want me to pull over?" I asked, watching him brush a trembling hand over his face and through his hair.
He shook his head, and subtly, but not enough that I didn't notice, pulled his body away from my hand and closer to the door. A raw twinge of rejection made my chest ache and I reluctantly clasped my steering wheel with both hands. All of the vibrant energy that was usually between us was fizzling. He was desperately trying to put up a wall and I had no idea why. After everything he had said, after what had just happened between us… Didn't he trust me?
I wanted to ask him who had been on the phone and why he was so distressed. I wanted to tell him to just talk to me instead up clamming up and folding into himself. And I wanted to tell him there was a bottle of Tylenol in my glove compartment, because the way he was cradling his head made me wonder if he'd gotten some kind of spontaneous migraine. But then he looked over and frowned.
"Can you not look at me like I'm going to unravel, please?" he said sharply, releasing his forehead and tucking his arms around his waist.
I sighed brusquely, tired of being snapped at, and pressed harder on the gas pedal, not even caring how much my engine would groan. As much as I wanted to slow down, pull over, and force the fucking answers out of him, I knew that he was hurting. He'd told me several times that he was good at driving people away. I just wished he would stop trying to make me one of those people.
One step forward, two steps back. Push, pull; hot, cold. Always so close, and yet so far away.
But if I had anything to say about it, I wasn't going to let him sever everything we'd worked for. He could shove me away, but I wasn't about to let go.
-:-
