A/N: My kids are back at school for the new year, so I'm writing more. Woohoo, early update.
You will get a teeny glimpse into what makes Edward tick here...
Hope you enjoy.
Footprints in the Sand
Chapter 12
"Al, less callgirl, more cocktail," I say with a huff, grabbing the tiny back number she suggested and hanging it back on the rack.
"What? You could totally pull it off," she says offhandedly as if she thinks I'm overreacting.
"It would barely cover both ends, and Edward's gaze is intimidating enough." I reveal a little too much.
"Oh...?" She arches a very emphatic eyebrow.
"I mean, he's..." I cave like a coward, but then it's probably not smart to give Alice any ammunition. She'll end up dragging me to Victoria's Secret.
What Edward is outside of intimidating is incredibly astute; he's infinitely close to working out every one of my idiosyncratic cogs, just as he warned he was intending to.
Everything I know about him is all on the surface. He's still so careful with what he discloses.
Alice rolls her eyes. "Bella, just stop thinking everything three weeks ahead, and you'll be fine."
I exhale a measured breath because usually that's my whole problem. It isn't right now, though. "I've only ever dated boys, Al. Even Tyler was a boy—"
"Tyler was an idiot!" she interjects to correct me.
"God, right?" I agree drolly. If only that was the half of it. "Edward's not a boy, though."
"You realize that's a good thing, right?" she puts to me dubiously.
"Of course I do," I say, prodding her with my elbow teasingly, but I can never seem to articulate my thoughts in any kind of order these days. "It's just—"
"It's just you want to get into that hot man's boxers, and all this is just misplaced sexual frustration," she teases me, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing. "How'd the texting end last night? Did he confess anything kinky?"
"He skirts around it," I say with a small smirk, omitting anything else, and reaching into my purse, I grab my phone and click open my messages with Edward.
No more texting. When I talk to you I want to be able to hear your voice, or see your face. Preferably both.
He'd texted it to me this morning. I hold it up for Alice to read.
"The man definitely has a very commanding tone about him," she notes, nodding once gravely.
"Everything about him is commanding," I say, subconsciously tugging on my bottom lip as my thoughts stray to the sexual innuendoes that kept creeping into the tenor of his messages.
"Maybe you should go back on the pill," Alice randomly suggests, while I decide not to disclose the fact that I never went off it.
It regulates my period.
"Okay, who's the one thinking three weeks ahead here?"
"Jay and I held out for a week." She shrugs a nonchalant shoulder and continues browsing the racks of teeny tiny, strapless dresses that even she couldn't get away with, despite the three inches of height she has in deficit to me.
"Jay doesn't have a very inquisitive little girl living with him like Edward does," I remind her, moving to a display that's a tad more conservative.
"Bella, you're twenty-seven, not eighty-seven," she bursts, grabbing my elbow and yanking me back beside her. "This one!" She holds up a navy blue, one-shouldered dress that would make it near impossible to do anything but stand.
"No," I tell her with an edge of finality in my tone.
She sighs pointedly. "You have a rack most girls would die for. Show it off!"
"What?"
"Seriously, my girls instantly go AWOL when I even think of the gym, but yours seem to love it. Maybe I should take up running." She bounces on her toes, watching as her breasts bob up and down with her.
I can only shake my head, breaking into an inevitable smile. Alice's exuberance is often times the distraction I need.
"So, what do you say?" She takes my lack of further objection as compliance.
"If I sneeze in that my boobs will go flying," I point out the logistics of it, "and Rose already thinks I have questionable motives."
She groans in deliberate emphasis. "You're still hung up on that? She invited you as a peace offering, so stop being so anal. Please?"
"How do you know that?" I ask cynically.
"She told me," she says simply. "She's also aware that Edward is the one doing all the pursuing."
"Huh—when?"
"Yesterday. When you were out with Daddy McHotstuff, she called me."
"Traitor," I murmur, nudging her teasingly with my shoulder.
"She's actually pretty chill, and she admitted to feeling crap about what she said to you," she relays casually.
"Hm, well..."
"I still suspect she's a lush though," Alice adds with a devious smile.
"If your house warming was anything to go by..." I say absently, edging away from her again, because there's absolutely no chance she's going to hamstring me into wearing something I'm not comfortable with this time.
"Okay, buy something boring, but at least make it red," she insists, her voice full of exasperation.
"Why red?" I ask over my shoulder.
"Scarlet woman," she teases with a wink.
"You're a nut, Al," I say with too much affection behind my voice.
The dress I eventually buy, despite all of Alice's background noise, is a deep red, long sleeved wrap tie that falls a couple of inches above my knees. The neckline accentuates my breasts and it placates Alice enough to stop bitching about how I dress like a preacher's wife.
"I'm a cop's daughter," I say in defence of my wardrobe habits as she blatantly rolls her eyes.
For all Alice's opposition, she settled on something a lot less scantily-clad than she tried to push on me, and with our purchases in hand we head to Johnny Rockets on level four for lunch.
"So how is it going to work with Addie?" she asks as she meticulously dips a single French fry in her side-helping of ketchup.
"He's not going to tell her anything for the mean time," I answer biting into my vegie burger. Beef has a habit of making me bloat in the short term, so it was out of the question.
"Hmm, he seems careful with her," she remarks.
"Of course he is. He's a very protective father," I say as my inside warm at the mere thought of him. "I didn't realize how much the two of them are alike, though. They both ask a million questions a minute," I say ruefully.
"What I mean is, how's it going to work when the two of you are between the sheets?" she clarifies, her eyebrows raising suggestively.
"Jesus, Al, I don't know. He hasn't even properly kissed me yet." I shrug my shoulder dismissing her.
It's not something I even want to contemplate at the moment. I can barely keep my head just drinking coffee in his presence.
"I thought you said he did."
"It was brief. How long are you staying tonight?" I change the subject away from my hypothetical sex life with Edward that may or may not even happen.
"Depends," she replies, her attention on her phone. "Son of a bitch!" she suddenly snaps.
"What?"
"My cousin keeps harassing me to send an invitation to her boyfriend." She tsks in open annoyance. "She met him last week and apparently he's a real douchebag!"
"I am never getting married," I vow silently beneath my breath.
. . .
I'm really not happy about my first proper date with Edward taking place in the company of Rosalie and her circle of friends. My stomach is a mass of nervousness and I have no idea whether I have any cause for concern or if I'm being my typical neurotic self.
Still, since it's our first "date" date, I make an extra effort to look good.
I straighten my hair—it has a predisposition of turning wooly in the humidity that cloaks half the state of Washington—and apply a smoky affect to my eyes with dark brown eyeshadow. My lipstick is a shade or two darker than my dress, but because I absolutely hate wearing it, I merge it with a coat of cherry gloss. After, I floss my teeth for the third time that day, convinced I still have remnants of lettuce stuck between them.
To finish, I dab a touch of Chanel No5 just below both my ears.
I leave my wrists because this perfume was the last thing my father bought me before he died. Needless to say, I only wear it sparingly and on very special occasions.
Edward messaged me earlier in the day to say he'd be here at six to pick me up, and at five minutes to he calls my apartment intercom. I buzz him through, and not half a minute later he knocks quietly on my door.
I open it to him standing before me as gorgeous as he always looks, his hair neatly groomed, clean shaven and smelling woodsy and enticing. He's dressed in black pants and a shirt and tie, but in place of his suit jacket is a navy wool sweater that closely sheaths the shape and contours of his chest and shoulders.
His smile immediately pulls wide, and he opens his mouth to greet me when something starts behind his eyes. For a single moment his entire expression slackens before he visibly pulls himself from it. "Bella," he says almost like it's a formality even as his voice softly catches.
"Hey," I reply coming very close to breaking into the same amusement he usually reserves for me. I guess he approves of how I look. Pulling the door open wider, I invite him inside. "Come on in. I just have to grab my jacket."
He bows his head once and walks as far as the kitchen. Then sinking his hands into his pants pockets he takes in his surroundings.
"It's small, isn't it?" I say, disappearing into my room where I'd left my coat at the foot of my bed.
"It is, but it's... classic," he decides.
"The architecture is great, huh?" I agree. "It's why I decided to buy an apartment here."
He smiles warmly and nods. "Ready to go?"
"Ready to go," I echo, taking the hand he offers me.
He parked his car along the street this time, and after seeing me safely inside, he pulls himself into the driver's side, and turns on the heating.
"Addie with your parents?" I enquire after he pulls into traffic and heads south.
"Uh, no... She's with her other grandparents," he discloses in a low voice. "They have her a weekend a month." At the mention of his in laws, the atmosphere turns tense, and Edward's frown quickly follows. But it's only fleeting, before he turns to me and offers me a genuine smile. "Bella?"
"Hm?"
"You look incredibly beautiful."
I break into an immediate smile that I have to fight from becoming giggly. "Thank you. So do you."
"I look beautiful?" he says lightly, arching a shrewd brow. "Not stupidly handsome?"
"Are..." Pausing, I sigh good-naturedly to myself. "Are you ever going to let me forget that?"
He chuckles to himself but doesn't reply.
The drive is roughly three miles and spent for the most part with Edward asking how my shopping trip with Alice went. He takes 1st Avenue through Belltown, past the waterfront and Bainbridge Island ferry dock. I'm almost convinced he's driving me to Lumen Field, until it becomes obvious Emmett and Rosalie live in The Wave.
The Wave is a contemporary-designed apartment block with asymmetrical, sectional levels that have a four-story overlap in third floor intervals. It's the sort of building that makes you feel drunk just looking at it, and it makes me wonder whether it's the reason Rosalie is such a lush.
The apartment is directly north of the stadium with the parking lot in between, and this is where Edward parks his car.
The doorman recognizes him on sight, and with a quick smile and "good evening, Mr. Cullen" he ushers the two of us toward the elevators. Once inside, Edward pushes the button for the eleventh floor, and as the doors slide closed he grabs my hand and eases me closer to his side.
"You're nervous," he says as we near the floor of exit.
"I'm fine," I assure him as he turns to me and quirks a brow.
I have to wonder how the hell he made me so conscious of two seemingly innocuous words.
The doors open with a ping, and with his hand still firmly entwined around mine, he leads me to the second apartment on the right.
Rosalie answers, and my first impression is I should have agreed to Alice's outfit suggestions. Her dress is black, strapless and barely covers her breasts let alone anything else. Not to mention the god-only-knows-high stilettoes she's wearing that makes her as tall as Edward. Just thinking about walking in them would put me in traction for months.
She's all legs, boobs, and royal blue eyes.
"Edward." Leaning forward, Rosalie plants her lips to Edward's cheek, before turning her attention to me. "Bella, you look amazing."
Before I can thank her, she takes my hand and extends me the same courtesy. I'm fairly certain she left a bright red pair of lips on my face as well, but she's surprisingly sober.
"Hey, Rosalie, how are you?" I enquire politely, resisting the urge to run the back of my hand over the place where her residual makeup no doubt lingers.
"I'm good—call me Rose," she says as Edward helps me out of my jacket and hangs it on the nearby coatrack. "Would you like a drink?"
"Sure," I agree, immediately scanning the room for Alice, but seeing nothing but Elliott Bay to the west, and a completely unobscured view of the football field to the south through the wall-length floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Bella," Edward murmurs, taking my hand and pulling me gently to face him. I open my mouth in question when he runs his thumb over my cheekbone, holding it discreetly up in emphasis.
His face is lipstick free, I notice.
I only flash him a grateful smile when his attention is quickly diverted.
"How the hell are you, bro?" His brother approaches and wraps a huge arm around him. He has a good two inches of height on Edward as well.
"This is Bella," Edward immediately makes the introductions after shaking his brother off him. "Bella, my brother, Emmett."
Emmett turns to me and his face instantly warms. He has piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, and on the surface you wouldn't guess they were brothers, but the resemblance is definitely there.
"Bella..." He speaks my name almost in a drawl and in the kind of emphasis as an inside joke. Taking my hand, he squeezes it in his. "It's nice to finally meet you."
From beside me I'm almost certain Edward groans to himself.
"You too," I reply.
I like him immediately.
"Have a good time tonight, okay?" he adds with half a wink, and turning back to Edward, he shoves a beer in his hand.
"I'm driving," Edward voices his objections as Emmett scoffs.
"One won't hurt, he says dryly before turning back to me, but whatever he's about to say is thwarted by Rose's return.
Handing me a flute of wine, she slips her arms around my shoulders. "Let me get you acquainted," she says leading me toward a group of women with Alice in the center of them.
I now realize the reason I didn't initially see her. There's several of them and they all tower over her despite her heels, and whatever they're saying, Alice is not very receptive to it.
"Bella, this is Tanya, Irina, Siobhan, Carmen, Makenna, and Bree," Rose makes the introductions.
I have no real idea who is who, but just as I offer up a friendly "hello", three blondes turn to me and very meticulously size me up.
"I'm Irina," one of them says coolly, holding out a limp hand, palm down as if she expects me to kiss the obscenely large gemstone on her second finger.
I take it briefly. "Nice to meet you."
I meet Alice's eyes; she rolls them discreetly.
"Pleasure to meet you, Bella," a dark-haired woman says with genuine warmth behind her tone.
"You t—"
"So, you managed to achieve the impossible..." a second blonde cuts me off, her lips pursed as she continues to give me the once-over.
"I'm sorry?" I ask blankly.
"Ed-ward," she accentuates his name, as her eyes dart to the right, behind me. "What's your secret?"
"I..." God, I hate it here already. "I'm not sure of your meaning."
"How'd you manage to snag him?" she clarifies, and while she's giving off a casual, bored impression, it's more than obvious she's everything but.
"Snag him? Did I win at musical chairs?" I reply sarcastically as Alice not very successfully smothers her snort behind her wine.
"Maybe there's something in the well in these small towns..." Irina adds, as passive aggressive as she is condescending.
"Perhaps, or maybe it's because Edward doesn't like women who play mind games," I retort more impressed with myself than I am surprised. I'm not usually a confrontational sort of person, but then, I can't say I've had to deal with this level of petty insecurity since middle school when Lauren Mallory had her nose out of joint because Eric Yorkie confessed to having a crush on me. "It's what he confessed to me the other night," I conclude, taking a sip of my wine and turning my back on them.
"Irina," Alice mocks after pulling me off to the side. "It sounds like urine." She snorts again and downs the rest of her drink. "Don't let them bother you, Bells."
"I won't," I assure her as Rosalie offers her a refill.
"Oh, they're seething that he brought you tonight," Rose says in confidence against my ear. "Tanya's been chasing Edward since college. She actually thought she'd be in with a chance after Kate died." She scoffs past her blatant amusement while I almost impulsively pull up short.
Kate. So Edward's wife has a name...
Before I'm aware of it, Rose tops up my glass as well, chuckling to herself as she moves on to intermingle.
"So... how did you meet Edward, Bella?" the third blonde steps beside me and asks shamelessly.
"I live next door to his mother," I answer stiffly with a distinct sense of déjà vu.
"Oh..." She arches a brow and very openly analyzes me as she swirls her drink in slow circles around her glass. "I'm Makenna, by the way."
My smile's just as stiff, and I offer her nothing else by way of conversation.
"It's just... Edward's our most eligible bachelor," she continues.
"He's a widower," I correct her.
"Oh," she utters a breathy sound and lightly swats my shoulder, "you know what I mean."
"This is ridiculous!" I say to Alice barely beneath my breath once blonde number three successfully takes the hint and moves back to her clique.
"Well, since this is high school and everything, it's time for you to rub him in their faces," she says slyly, turning me in the direction where Edward's standing on the other side of the room.
The instant I meet his gaze, he breaks into a smirk and motions to me with his index finger.
"You going to be okay?" I put to her, not liking the idea of leaving her alone in the company of Urine, Makenna, and the one Rose outed as Tanya, despite the fact that Alice can more than handle herself.
"Sure," she says simply. "I'm going to chat to Carmen. She's lovely. She has kids and is very much above all this infantile crap."
"Okay, be back soon," I promise as I make my way toward Edward, feeling more than several pairs of eyes boring into my back as I do.
When I'm within arm's length, Edward takes my hand, draws me to him and lowers his head until his lips graze past my cheek on their way to my earlobe. "I forgot to warn you before Rose dragged you away, but those three blondes you just met are demon bitches from hell. Steer clear of them."
"Rose already gave me a head's up," I fill him in, pulling back to see the smile tug on his lips. I raise my eyebrows bringing it to his attention.
He shakes his head even as it broadens. "Nothing. Don't be a stranger."
"Hmm?" I say unsure of his meaning just as Rose once again intercepts and curves an arm around my shoulders.
"Oh, no you don't," she admonishes Edward, but for what reason I have no idea. "There's still people who are dying to meet her."
Again, I get the impression it's a private joke between them I'm not privy to, and even more so when Edward softly huffs to himself while his smile turns apologetic.
Rose accompanies me around the apartment, introducing me to several more people, including Emmett who I've already met.
"First time I've seen him smile properly in ten years," he mutters to Rose not nearly as covertly as I think he meant.
Rose only clears her throat and continues to parade me around until I begin to feel like a circus attraction.
Everyone I meet, aside from the three demon bitches, is gracious and responsive, and Carmen is just as Alice described her; a mother of two, in love with her husband, and well above so much pettiness. No one else enquires about my relationship with Edward. Though, Rose refers to me as hisgirlfriend to a woman named Victoria as I choke on my wine for several awkward seconds after.
How much I drink in the first hour and a half is anyone's guess. I don't see the bottom of my glass before Rose refills it, and since it doesn't seem to be effecting me I quickly lose count.
I alternate between hanging with the girls, and chatting with Edward. He beckons me several times, and after the third he wraps his arm aroundmy chest and shoulders from behind, and says surreptitiously against my temple, "Will you stop escaping me, woman."
This is the point I realize I'm beginning to sway, and by the time dinner is served I know I've drank a lot more than I really should have.
Edward takes a chair beside me, his hand dropping to my leg below the dining table.
"Hey? Are you okay?" he leans close to me and asks as worry softens his voice.
"I'm fine," I mumble with half a nod, but I'm not. I'm beginning to feel flushed and the first waves of nausea are rolling my stomach.
Over the last month, I've run too much, slept too little, and eaten even less, so needless to say, the alcohol is hitting me hard. It's the kind of effect where it completely skips over feeling loose and relaxed and goes straight to making you feel like shit.
"Do you need some air?" he gently pushes as his palm squeezes around my knee.
"Edward, I'm fine," I insist, while the breathlessness behind my words immediately contradicts me.
I'm not fooling him regardless, nor am I evading attention from the three blondes sitting opposite us.
Shrimp's served for starters, and lamb for the main course but I have no appetite for either. I pick at it out of courtesy, but for the most part I play the charade of eating while moving the food around the plate with my fork.
If I hold off on drinking for the rest of the night, I'll be okay, I tell myself even as the room begins to spin, while all noise but the constant string of snide, patronizing remarks from Urine and Tanya muffles in my ears.
"Are you okay, Bella?" I hear the alarm in Alice's voice but I don't see her face.
"I'll take you to the bathroom," Edward seemingly decides on the spot, and without waiting for me to reply, he helps me to my feet and shepherds me into a small hall off the living area.
"I'm fine. I'll-I'll be fine," I stammer as the ground slants beneath me and my hands immediately spring out toward Edward to steady myself. "I just... need some... cool air."
"Hey," he says in a voice bleeding with concern as he holds me to my feet with both palms clamped around my upper arms. "Bella, look at me." I do, clumsily and full of shame. "Do you want to leave?"
I shake my head, but it does nothing but exacerbate the nausea. "No—Edward, I..." Abruptly pushing away from him, I stumble into the bathroom, slamming the door on him when he tries to follow.
I run the faucet, and barely make it to the toilet before every ounce of wine I drank tonight is expelled from my stomach. I can only praise the gods that I'm a quiet vomiter; though, it's a small mercy considering I'm sitting slumped on the bathroom floor a trembling, sweating mess.
"Bella?" Edward calls to me, knocking on the door urgently. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I call back even as my voice fails, and pulling myself shakily to my feet, and leaning my weight against the vanity, I peer at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I'm pale and my eyes are a little too wide and bright, but I'm relieved to see I'm not a complete disaster. Despite the sheen across my forehead and upper lip, my makeup held up and hasn't run.
Cupping my hand beneath the running water, I rinse my mouth out several times before blotting my face with cool water with the washcloth hanging over the sink.
"Bella?" Alice's voice choruses my name next, high-pitched and screechy.
"Al, I'm fine," I reassure her, because I'm definitely feeling one hundred and fifty percent better.
If I can rid myself of the god-awful metallic taste in the back of my throat, I just might reach complete sobriety.
I find a small bottle of breath freshener behind the mirrored cabinet, and after pumping too much of it in my mouth, I fix my hair and straighten myself out. The room's stopped spinning, so I know it's safe to venture back out.
That's when two very distinct voices on the other side of the door draws my attention.
"Is your little farm girl drunk, Edward?"
"Stop your bullshit, Tanya," Edward snaps impatiently.
"Have you told her?" Her tone is taunting.
Told me?
"You need to shut your mouth, now." His voice lowers to practically a growl.
My back immediately straightens, and the realization that this bitch is making Edward angry pisses me off more than I can comprehend. I reach for the door handle, but the next thing out of her mouth suspends me to where I stand.
"If you can fuck me while you're wife's pregnant, no little side dish like her will deter—"
"That was after I filed for divorce, you fucking bitch?" Edward cuts her off in a threatening tenor I don't think he meant for me to hear, but I do.
My mouth falls open and my heart accelerates so rapidly it feels as if it's about to leap from my chest. My palm subconsciously finds its way to my mouth as I attempt to pull my thoughts together, but my mind's still lagging behind the lingering effects of alcohol.
I don't move, not until the room beyond falls silent, and as I reach for the door, it suddenly flies open. Edward is on the other side of it, his eyes ablaze as a storm brews within them.
"Edward, are you...?" I hedge apprehensively as the words die on my lips; he looks as if he's going to reef his hair out as much as commit murder.
His gaze meets mine and the fire simmers, as that frown I've become all too familiar with steadily knots his brow. "I'm fine."
A/N: dun, dun, duuuun...
Thanks for reading.