A/N
Hey ho! Hi everyone! I know my schedule has been slow. I've been cranking out a chapter every three to four weeks. Not as often as I would like, but I'm deep into editing the story I pulled and am under a deadline with my writing coach/editor. Anywho, this will never be abandoned! I feel like I need to say that each chapter because I know it's a fear for a lot of you when you read a WIP. I feel the same way; I hate getting invested and then not having any closure on a story.
Not beta'd.
Sorry, this chapter is on the shorter side this time.
S. Meyer owns all things, Twilight.
Chapter 14
My eyes scan the text again to make sure I'm not hallucinating, and suddenly, the screen lights up with another message—this one from Mr. Volturi.
Boom shack-a-lacka! Well-deserved win. We can talk about onboarding on Monday. Have a great weekend, Team.
I look up at Edward and watch as he scrolls through his phone. The glow from the dashboard light falls across his face and makes him look so young. I smile at the spark of excitement in his eyes and am suddenly hit with an epiphany like a bolt of lightning that knocks me on my ass. Or at least back against my seat. Ever since I imposed our "we can only be co-workers" doctrine, he's been so careful to follow my rules, not veering outside the lines of professionalism even once. But looking at his face, it's hard to miss his joy—his enthusiasm for life, and I realize how much I've missed that.
His eyes crinkle, and he chuckles before punching out another text. I have no idea who's on the receiving end, but I do know that I've missed this—the way his easygoing nature always makes me feel even the tiniest bit of happiness in my own life. And he does it without even trying. It's just … him.
One of the things I noticed about Edward in the beginning, was his sense of determination. It was even more apparent when he told me about his brothers' death. Nothing was more important to him than making sure Henry and George, and even Rose, were okay. He faced it head-on, despite trying to navigate through his own grief. And while he was doing that, he still managed to look at the cup as half full.
At first, I thought it might have been for the boy's sake. Maybe Edward was just going through the motions for them—like how Rose wants everything to stay as normal as possible even though nothing is. But then I realized it's more than that. Edward has a light inside that allows him to see the best in any situation. Even if he makes mistakes along the way, he doesn't give up, and he's constantly trying to do better—to be better. My idea of dealing with a crisis has always been to ignore it. I've turned it into an art form. Just ask my mother.
Suddenly I'm ashamed of how I reacted when Edward told me his feelings for me in that coffee shop. Because what did I do? I reverted to type. I ignored it—ignored him and everything he made me feel, hoping it would go away. I didn't take a chance because I'm a coward who's afraid of getting hurt. And sitting next to me, with a smile on his face that is completely contagious, is a man who never claimed to be perfect. I was the one who put that unattainable label on him. I watched him from afar and built him up in my head into someone that no real-life human being could ever be.
He drops his phone back into the console and then looks up at me.
"What?" he says. He cocks his head to the side, the smile still on his face.
"Nothing," I mumble. "It's just—"
He leans forward, his familiar scent filling the car, and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia comes over me. It's kind of like whenever I smell sunscreen. One whiff and I'm immediately transported to the beach when I was a kid—summertime, ice cream, wet hair, and sandy feet as I sit on a towel eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The excruciating wait until half an hour has passed, and my mom says I can go swimming again. Going to the arcade and playing Skeeball, my mountain of tickets allowing me to purchase a cheap stuffed animal. (I always wanted the skunk). All of that comes back just from the smell of sunscreen, and it's the same now as I sit in the car with Edward and take in the musky scent that's all around me. It's happiness, warmth, friendship, and what it was that day in the conference room before everything went to shit.
Love.
Edward studies me for a moment, and the smile is replaced with a look of concern.
"Are you okay, Bella? We need to talk about what you want to do. About James."
I'm already shaking my head, not wanting to talk about it. Cut me some slack; it's going to take baby steps to unravel the complexities that are my defense mechanisms.
"Edward," I say. My voice is quiet as my eyes search his pleadingly. "I know we do, but can we not? I mean, just for right now. Can we just enjoy this good news?"
He frowns slightly and runs a hand through his hair but doesn't respond.
"I mean, we did it, Edward. The two of us, together. We made this happen, and I don't want that asshole to tarnish that."
He looks up at me with an expression that says he's debating about pushing me on this or letting it go before letting out a breath.
"Fine," he says. He puts the car in gear, and we stare ahead into the night as he drives me home.
Ten minutes later, we pull up to my apartment, and Edward slides into a visitor's space. I reach for the door handle and glance at him when he turns off the engine and pulls the keys from the ignition.
"What?" he says. "Do you really think I'm going to let you walk up there alone?"
I don't argue.
"Thanks, Edward."
He nods brusquely before we both get out of the car. We take the elevator up to my floor in silence, and when the door pings open, he walks out first and checks the hallway. It's not like I think James is going to be lurking under my bed or anything, but despite what I said to Edward earlier, I'm still freaked out about what happened, and it's comforting to have him here.
When we arrive at my door, I fish my keys out of my purse and slide one into the lock. I crack the door and then look over my shoulder at Edward. He must see the look of indecision on my face because he gently nudges me out of the way, takes the keys out of the lock, opens the door fully, and walks in before me.
I've taken care of myself my whole life. Things don't scare me. I'm not afraid of the dark or creepy movies that freak out most people. Alice had nightmares for weeks when the girl came out of the well in THE RING. I slept like a baby. But tonight was different. I wouldn't have been able to overpower James, even in his drunken state. And how far would it have gotten if Edward and Emmett hadn't wandered back there? That thought sends a shiver down my spine.
I follow Edward into the apartment, and he flicks on the light. Oscar jumps up immediately from his place on the rug by the sliding glass doors that lead to my balcony. I buy Oscar a dog bed every few years or so, hoping he'll take to it. He never does. But I haven't given up. My last attempt was just a few weeks ago, and I look to where he's pushed it to the side, almost completely across the room. The animosity toward the bed has reached epic proportions, and a decision, it seems, has been made. Oscar trots over, looking at me as if to say, "Really? How many times do I have to tell you? Stop wasting your money."
And not to be dismissed is Oscar's failure even to let out as much as a bark, let alone a growl, at the stranger who has entered his domain. Instead, he rubs against Edward's legs and wags his tail. Edward leans down and ruffles his fur.
"Hey, Oscar."
Is it weird that my whole body just tingled because this man remembered my dog's name? We walk further into the apartment, and Edward flicks on more lights before turning back to look at me.
"Do you want me to check any other rooms?"
I nod at him before pointing to my bedroom. I know it's ridiculous, James is definitely not hiding under my bed, but it can't hurt to make sure. Edward walks toward my room, and Oscar follows, his steps jaunty.
Some guard dog.
After about sixty seconds, he reemerges and shuts off my bedroom light.
"All clear."
"Thanks, Edward," I say.
Oscar shoots toward me and nudges my hand.
"Sorry, Os," I say. I walk toward the kitchen and pull out his jar of treats before calling over my shoulder to Edward. "Um, do you want something to drink? I have beer and wine, and I think Alice left some hard seltzers the last time she was here.
I lean down to give Oscar his treat, and when I straighten, I take a quick step back. Edward is right in front of me.
"I'm good," he says. He stares down into my face with the same longing I saw when we were at the office party a week ago. Oscar bounds away from us before digging into his pile of dog toys.
I look up at Edward and bite the inside of my cheek, suddenly nervous. "So, um, thanks again for tonight. For what you did at the bar and for coming up here." He moves even closer, and my breathing becomes shallow. My heart beats so fast I think it might fly right out of my chest.
"What were you going to say tonight?" he whispers.
My brow furrows.
"Right before we got the order from Anderson, you said you'd been thinking about something."
I cast my eyes toward the floor, wondering if I have the guts to tell him. What if he pushes me away? He has every right. The silence stretches out between us, and then, his finger is beneath my chin, tipping it up gently, and I'm staring into his deep green eyes once more.
"Tell me," he whispers.
But I don't. Instead, I reach up on my toes, rest my hands lightly on his shoulders and throw caution to the wind by pressing my lips to his. His eyes widen in shock, but only for a millisecond, and then his arms wrap around my waist, and he's lifting me off the floor. I can't tell you what his expression is after that because I close my eyes and kiss him with everything I have.
