Chapter 29.

~.~ Bella ~.~

His hands are everywhere. His lips, too. Touching, kissing, feeling, breathing…as if he's desperate for me. Almost as desperate as I've been for him.

We're parked in Emmett's parents' driveway, just on the side of the house, darkness surrounding the Jeep, trees covering it. Emmett said we could have some time to "catch up" before heading inside.

So we're making out in the back seat, and things heat up pretty quickly, until I'm lying on the seat with him on top of me. It's quiet and risky and anyone could find us, but neither one of us seems to mind.

"I promised Grizzly we wouldn't do it in his Jeep," I say in a whisper while one of his hands clasps tightly on my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh over my leggings.

"Fuck him." Edward grunts in my neck.

"Cullen!" I laugh loudly, grabbing his face as he lifts up from my neck. His eyes dark and wild, his hair all over the place—my doing. I've never seen him in so very little control as right now…and I kind of love it.

"Sorry," he says, breathing out roughly. His hand loosens its grip and moves up to my hip, where it halts. "I'm sorry…It's been a long week." His tone is apologetic, he looks almost embarrassed. My consent king is struggling.

"It's okay…" My fingers scrub the couple weeks' worth of scruff on his jaw. "I missed you too."

"How are you here?" He breathes again, as if trying to calm down and form words, but I can feel how hard he is between my legs. He shuts his eyes tightly as he presses himself down onto me.

"I flew." I giggle softly.

"What about your parents?" he asks with a grunt, dropping his forehead on mine.

"Don't worry about that." My hands trail down his neck, over his shirt, over his pecs, and everything hard and soft he has on him.

"Do they know you're here?" He breathes out when my hand reaches his pants, and I palm him over his jeans.

"Do you want to talk about my parents right now?"

"Fuck, no." He kisses me again, deeply, roughly, making me buck my hips against him. He moans into my mouth when I slip a hand inside his boxers and circle my fingers around him, then his hands do some exploring on their own, until one slips inside of my leggings, under my panties.

His fingers are sweet torture. I'm wet. I'm dripping. I want him so bad.

"I want you inside of me," I pant in his ear.

He lifts his face from my neck, his eyebrows knit, his breathing harsh.

"I don't have a condom." It looks like it pains him to say it. "I never thought. I didn't think. I don't have one in my wallet. I—"

"I trust you." I kiss his ear, his jaw, anything within reach.

"That's not…I'm…" He moans softly, wrapping a hand over mine, as I realize I am still stroking him. "Slow down, please, I can't think."

I release him and do the math in my head. I can't remember when exactly I had my last period, but it's definitely been a long time.

"It'll be okay," I say softly.

"What? Pulling out?" His eyebrows raise on his forehead as he stares at me.

I nod. I shrug. I grab him again.

It's an option. It's what Vicky suggested we do when I told her I am not on the pill. "Pull out and pray," is what she called it.

I gesture to the box of tissues Emmett has on top of the center console. Edward reaches for it, turning to me and puffing his cheeks with an exhale, thinking about it, maybe, considering it, as he stares at the box of tissues.

I push his pants and boxers down until they're mid-thigh, then squirm out of my leggings and underwear under him. I guide him between my legs, as he drops the box next to us, and when I feel him rub against me, I gasp into his mouth, pulling him to me.

"You feel so good," he whispers, moving just at my entrance, in a painfully delicious way, coating himself with me. He dips a hand between us, and his fingers tease me, making me almost cry for it.

"Please," I shamelessly beg. He's so, so close to where I want him to be that I am tempted to push my hips up and take him in. I've never experienced anything like this, like I can't breathe if I don't have him.

He lifts his face from my neck, his eyes trained on mine, his brows knitted tightly while his fingers are still wreaking havoc on me.

His eyes close when he finally pushes inside of me, torturously slow, staying impossibly still once he's inside. I fight the urge to move and give him a moment, digging my fingers into his biceps.

"Fuck, Swan, you have no idea how good this feels."

"I think I have an idea." I move a little, taking him deeper, and we both moan. His eyes remain closed, his eyebrows knit in concentration, then his fingers resume their patterns.

He starts moving slowly, so slowly, in and out of me, and whenever I try to meet his thrusts, one hand clasps around my hip, keeping me in place, or keeping himself in check, or both, I am not sure.

With him inside of me and his fingers on me, that pressure starts building, just under my stomach…even though we've only done this a few times, I am pretty sure I am addicted to it by now.

"Please, tell me you're close." He grunts in my neck, panting.

"Yes…" I feel it looming, pulsating, and before I know it, I am clenching around him as he speeds up. I gasp, and I pant, and I try not to scream. He's out of me quickly, too, pulling himself back, reaching frantically for the tissues and then presses a moan into my collarbone.

"Fuck," he says softly, scrambling on top of me. "Fuck, I made a mess." He collapses over me with a chuckle, making me laugh.

Emmett is going to kill us.

I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me, while our hearts beat against each other.

After his breathing calms down, he lifts his head from my chest. I can see the wheels turning, his eyes give him away—he's panicking. "Was this incredibly stupid?"

"It's okay. We'll clean up."

"No…I mean…" He pushes himself off of me as he pulls his pants up. "That was too risky. I—I shouldn't have."

"You did manage to pull out though, right?" I pull my pants up and sit up beside him.

"Yeah, but still."

"I—I think it'll be okay." I don't tell him I haven't really been getting my period for a while—I don't want him to worry about that. I get my fingers in his hair again, pulling him to me as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"I'll be better prepared next time," Edward says softly, seemingly more relaxed, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Next time?" I ask through a laugh, holding him close. "I don't think Emmett will let us in his car ever again."

He chuckles softly, hiding his face in my neck, and then lets out a content exhale. "I can't believe you're here."

~.~.~

With 'guilty' written on both of our foreheads, Edward and I step into Emmett's parents' basement from the back door. Emmett is perched in front of the flat screen, sitting on the pouf-like ottoman. One of his friends is next to him, immersed in their game, while a couple others stand by the pool table in the back.

Emmett turns his head, pulling his headset off. His eyes flicker between me and Edward, and then he's off the chair. Edward lets go of my hand, walking closer to him, so I find a spot on one of the couches.

"Ah, fuck…" Emmett says, his expression turning to disgust as he inspects Edward's very apologetic face. My ears are burning in embarrassment. "I don't even want to know."

Edward stops in front of Emmett, the car keys hanging from his fingers, and whispers a few hushed words, probably on purpose for me not to hear.

"Then keep the keys. Jesus!" Emmett half laughs, pushing Edward back with a hand on his shoulder. I cover my face with one cushion when Emmett turns to look at me.

I hear then feel Edward sit next to me with a huff. When I peek at him from under the cushion, he's smiling sweetly at me.

"It's all good," he says. "Don't worry about it."

"Did you offer to clean it?"

"Getting it detailed tomorrow morning." He lifts a hand and reaches for my face, his thumb over my burning cheeks.

"All right," I say, leaning onto his palm and breathing out in relief.

"Where are you staying?" Edward asks out of the blue.

"Emmett said I could crash here, but I wanted to see what you wanted to do."

"Are your parents okay with that?" he asks easily, as if he has no clue.

Oh my sweet, innocent, Colorado boy.

"My parents are okay with what I told them the plan was," I say, choosing my words carefully.

"Which is?" He raises an eyebrow, his eyes fixed on mine.

"Staying at Vicky's…" I look briefly at my hands before I elaborate. "In Fort Lauderdale."

"Swan, fuck…" His face turns into a grimace. "Your parents are going to hate me even more."

"They won't know I was here." I was careful. Left no trace. Vicky will cover for me if my parents suspect. I was lucky she didn't want to come instead.

"Jesus…" Edward runs a hand in his hair, then his fingers pull on his neck.

"I know you've been having a rough time here," I start as my fingers reach for his hair and he drops his head on my shoulder with an exhale. "I could tell, even though you said it's all good. I wanted to see if I could make it better. If I could help."

He lifts his head and looks at me, with those deep sea green eyes of his that give me the tingles. I could tell through the screen every time we talked during the past week, and I can tell right now—he's exhausted, struggling, and not just physically, but mentally too.

I ache to comfort him.

Because maybe he needs me. Maybe he needs me as much as I need him.

"I know it's bold, and I acted impulsively, but I really, really needed to see you, too." I pull him closer for emphasis, wrapping my hands around his neck.

He doesn't say anything; instead, he brings his lips to mine. Not roughly. Not desperately. It's full of devotion. Love. Thankfulness.

"Thank you," he actually says, dropping his forehead on mine. His hands tuck my hair behind my ears, softly running his thumbs on my cheeks afterward. "When do you have to go back?"

"I fly back Wednesday morning."

"So we get the whole day tomorrow?" He looks so happy—so very genuinely excited—I want to kiss him again. He wraps his arms around my waist, bringing me to his lap. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know...I was thinking I could go see that tattoo guy of yours. Also, maybe, meet your mom?"

He tries to hide it, but his face falls and so does my stomach.

"Yeah," he says quickly, evading, while I try my best to hide my disappointment. "I could crash here tonight; Emmett's parents are usually fine with that. I have a few sessions booked tomorrow, but maybe you and I can get a stunt session too?"

"That'd be nice," I say honestly—I do miss standing on his hands—but I fully know he's deflecting.

"And I actually saw Marcus, my tattoo guy, last week. His sister is one of my privates tomorrow, so maybe we can talk to him then?"

"Okay, perfect."

He doesn't bring his mom up, so I don't ask again. If he doesn't want me to meet her, that's fine. I know they're close and she's important to him, and I would love to meet her, but maybe it's too soon.

Vicky did say guys are weird about that. She also said I was crazy for coming here unannounced and that Edward might not take it well. She showed me a TikTok of this girl who surprise-visits her boyfriend in college, and how bad that can go.

I trust Edward, though, and he seems genuinely happy that I am here, so I push Vicky's warnings to the back of my mind and enjoy my time with him instead.

~.~.~

Emmett's mom comes down with snacks, but everything she brings is either carbs or deep-fried carbs. Glad to actually not have to sit down for dinner, I stick a piece of gum in my mouth instead and call it a day.

After the rest of Emmett's friends filter out, his mom sets up three, very separate, beds in the basement. But once she's gone, Edward brings his inflatable mattress closer to mine, while Emmett takes the pull-out couch.

It's late—even later for me as I've gotten used to the three-hour difference back in Florida—but I am too excited to rest and therefore slightly disappointed when Edward starts dozing off in his bed right as Emmett dozes off as well.

I get up to turn off the TV and snuggle next to Edward, who loops an arm over me in his slumber.

"Cullen?" I whisper softly, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. He doesn't say anything, but his arm tightens slightly around my waist. "Are you awake?"

He groans a little but then his breathing returns to normal.

"It's okay if you don't want me to meet your mom. I understand."

It's quiet for a beat, other than Emmett's snores, then Edward sits up.

"Of course I want you to meet my mom." He turns to me, his expression pained.

"You think maybe she won't like me?" I sit up next to him, wrapping my arms around my knees.

"She's going to love you." He runs a hand on my leg. "She wants to meet you."

"You've told her about me?"

"Of course!"

"Then why don't you want me to meet her?"

He sighs, scrubbing his face, then gets up from the mattress and extends a hand down to me. Hand in hand, he walks us away from Emmett to the other couch, dropping with a huff as I take the spot next to him.

He rests his head back, staring at the ceiling, his hands rubbing on his thighs.

"My mom's been through a lot," he starts, still looking up.

Then I get the feeling that this has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him and his mom. "You don't have to tell me." I feel so bad for bringing it up.

"I want to." He turns his head, his eyes on mine. There's something very broken in there, something I've only seen glimpses of before. He's letting his wall down. He's letting me see him like this. I reach for his hand on his lap and intertwine my fingers with his. "Remember when I said my dad wasn't part of my life?"

"Yes."

"There's more to that."

I nod at him in encouragement. I had figured as much.

"He's an alcoholic. He used to beat my mom for as long as I can remember."

"Cullen, I'm so sorry."

"I think I was seven or eight, when I finally manned up and called the cops on him. Even though my mom had begged me not to. She was in bad shape. Couldn't even stand." He shudders a little and lets go of my hand, running it over his face instead. "I think we were at the hospital for a week? Social Services almost took me from her."

"You were just a little kid." My heart breaks and my eyes tear up for him and that little boy that I'm sure he still carries with him.

He takes a deep breath and brings my hand back in his. "I think that was a wake-up call for her though, thankfully, because after that, we left him and Denver for good."

"Where's your dad now?" My voice is barely a whisper.

"I don't know. Drunk somewhere, probably." Edward shrugs, linking his fingers with mine. "Maybe dead in a ditch, who knows?"

"Is he why you don't drink?"

Edward nods softly, seeming relieved. "I've got his shitty genes, so I don't want to risk becoming like him."

"You could never." I grab his face and bring him to me, hugging him and loving him, and thankful for him to tell me all of this. "You're the kindest, most respectful soul I have ever met in my life, Cullen. You wouldn't hurt a fly." It's almost like he's become, through his own hard work and self-awareness, the exact opposite of his father.

He breathes out into my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist.

"So you moved here when you left Denver?" I ask tentatively, hoping he'll tell me more.

"Yeah…" He pulls back, resting his head back on the couch. "We started over from scratch. My mom worked so hard to keep us afloat. She gave me everything. She wouldn't eat so that I could. I was never in need of anything."

I let it all sink in, my eyes welling with tears for him, for everything he's been through. How much he cares about his mom. I can see too—as much as he says she's taken care of him, he's taken care of her too.

I've never felt like more of a privileged brat in my life.

"We moved out here with my mom's brother," he continues. "My uncle Masen. But he's almost as much of a fuck-up than my dad ever was." His hands fist the fabric of his pants, anger bubbling under the surface. "At least he's not violent with her."

"Does your mom still live with your uncle?"

"Sort of. My mom took over the lease on his apartment. He's not around much…" Edward pauses, his eyes inspecting mine. "He goes in and out of prison a lot. He's locked up right now."

"Oh…" I sit back a little, as his words take me by surprise.

"So…" He puffs his cheeks through an exhale, seemingly relieved to have told me all of this. "It's not that I don't want you to meet her. I'd love for you two to meet. It's just—" He sighs as I tighten my fingers around his. "We're a lot."

"You're not a lot, Cullen." I inch closer to him. "You've been through a lot; that's different."

He brings me back into his arms, burying his face in my neck, and exhales roughly. I think he's relieved now that I know. I think I love him even more.

He stays still for a while, but before I can ask him or say anything else, he pulls back.

"I love you," he says, bringing me in for a kiss. "I'm so happy that you're here." His fingers rub on my cheek as he smiles. "We'll go see my mom tomorrow."