AN: Thank you so much to my pre-reader Brina. Do you know, she's been helping me out since 2011? Crazy how she puts up with me.
Chapter Two
-Just One Drink-
Edward texts me the address at halftime. He says to meet up at this trendy club at nine. As much fun as I was having with the food and free drinks, I rushed home to take a shower and get ready for tonight. After all these years, it bothers me that when I see Edward again that I looked like a slob.
So embarrassing.
Not tonight, though. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice. I'm determined to look good for him. That means my best dress, highest heels, and straightening my hair. I hope to make Edward see me in a different light.
I want him to desire me.
It's just so crazy. I can't get over how good he looked. How is that even possible? I've watched him on television, in his uniform on the field and in his street clothes, giving an interview, and still, my 4K screen didn't do that man justice - at all.
And, of course, like a glutton for punishment, I Google him before heading up to the club. There was good news and bad news.
Good news: Edward hasn't been linked to any girl recently.
Bad news: he only dated models.
These women were gorgeous, but it looked like nothing too serious — or no one that had lasted longer than a season. That feeling of anxiety, excitement, and unrequited love punches me in the gut.
I had to put my head between my knees before leaving my apartment.
It's been nearly a decade since Edward had made me feel this way.
How will I survive tonight?
Well, not with my heart in tact, I'll tell you that.
When he left for college, I cried every night for nearly a year. Every rumor about him and some college coed had me laid up. Of course, it didn't help that Emmett was willing to loudly and proudly boast of his best friend's conquest. I couldn't fault him, though. My brother had no idea how deeply I was involved.
And this was why dressing up and meeting Edward at a club was a bad idea, but Alice was busy with family and wasn't here to stop me from doing something stupid.
When I get to the club, a line is forming around the block. There's a bouncer at the door, picking and choosing who's hot and who's not.
I'm not the type of girl to put myself out there, but I still wear my push-up bra and sashay to the front.
He barely looks at me and barks, "Name?"
"Bella Swan," I croak out, catching his attention.
He looks at me with heavy-lidded scrutiny. I'm trying my best to look appealing. My hip jutted out to the side, my chest pumped up to the sky, and a pout on my glossed lips.
Inwardly, I'm screaming: you look like a clown!
Bouncer jerk scoffs, and it takes him less than a millisecond to skim the list for my name.
Like always, I come up short.
"You're not on the list." His focus squared in on the girl behind me. "Next."
The blonde tries to get past me, but I hold up my hand and glare at her. She backs down. My eyes shoot back to the bouncer.
"I'm on that list. Check again."
The guy seems impressed with my bravado, and maybe that's why he decides to indulge me by looking at the list, just slightly more thorough this time. However, I knew the outcome wasn't in my favor when he smirked.
"You're not on the list," he says. "Next!"
The blonde pushes from behind and elbows me in my side. That bouncer butthead never asked the girl her name. She has big tits, and that was all that mattered to him. The crappy hierarchy and politics make me so mad.
"Listen, jerk! I know I'm on that list! Edward Cullen invited me personally."
The bouncer raises an eyebrow. "Edward Cullen? EC? The Seahawks' MVP? That Edward?"
I throw my shoulders back and nod. "You're darn right."
Without missing a beat, he laughs at me. He is bent over with hands on his knees in hysterical laughter. Finally, after nearly a minute, he comes up for air, getting his bearings, and with a straight face replies: "Good one, kid. Back of the line."
That's when the crowd gets restless, and they start pushing. These rude people are wedging me off the sidewalk until I fall backward on the curb. I would've landed hard on my butt, too, if it wasn't for a firm grip on my waist, keeping me upright and stable. When the crowd gasps, whispers, and chatters excitedly, I have a good idea who saved me.
Turning my head, I get caught up in a pair of green eyes shining and looking back at me.
"Hey, Bruiser," Edward says. "Up to your old tricks again, I see."
I groan. "I haven't been called that in a long time."
He grins. "That's because I haven't been around."
That's the nickname he gave me when we were younger. I wasn't so graceful back then, and my legs always had cuts and bruises. Edward was the only one who called me Bruiser. In junior high, one kid tried, and Edward huffed a football at his head. The guy had a goose egg for two weeks.
No one dared to call me anything but Bella after that.
"So, what are you doing out here?" Edward asks. He's dressed in a black leather jacket and a white T-shirt. It's simple, but he looks so good. "I've been waiting inside for an hour."
"You told me nine," I say, and the last time I checked, it's only twenty after. "And the bouncer said I wasn't on his list."
"What?" Edward looks at the jerk.
He acts innocent, of course. "Your girl wasn't on the list. You know how many people act like they know you?"
My glare lessens slightly towards the guy the second he says, 'Your girl,' and Edward doesn't correct him.
"No, I get it, Tony. Just text me next time," Edward says.
The crowd starts enclosing us, and they all have their hands out to Edward, wanting a picture or an autograph. It's overwhelming, and my instinct is to cling to the gorgeous man beside me.
Edward throws his arm around me. "Let's go inside."
The bouncer Tony unhooks the velvet rope, and we walk into the club. Of course, Edward's in the VIP section. He leads me to a secluded part of the club with his hand on my lower back the whole time. I try to act unfazed, but the tingles are everywhere: in my fingertips, up to my scalp, and especially below. It's all I can do not to have a panic attack.
Oh, gosh, like that one time EC touched me in an intimate but purely accidental way. It was the summer after his freshman year. I was twelve, and he was about to turn sixteen that June, and we were having a pool party at his house. I was wearing my new bikini. It was a hot pink and a little too risqué for me. The previous summer, I was flat and in a Little Mermaid one-piece, but that summer, I was growing my boobs and wanted to show them off.
Well, I jumped into the pool, and the force of the water popped off my top. I didn't know it until coming to the surface and seeing the bright pink fabric bobbling along. All the boys hooted and hollered, trying to get a peep at the goods. I was mortified and was stuck, covering my chest and looking for a way to get out with my dignity intact.
That seemed impossible because one of the boys, Jared, held my bikini top and waved it over his head, "Belly, Belly, show us your boobies."
EC came outside and saw what was going on and snagged it back from Jared, and pushed him to the ground. He then jumped into the pool and swam up to me. I put it back on with Edward as a barrier wall to anyone who tried to look at me. After Jared left crying, no one dared to test my knight in shining armor.
The big thing was as Edward helped me out of the pool, he had his hand on my lower back. I nearly died on the spot. My lungs closed up, and my heart pounded out of my chest. It was overwhelming, and I stumbled out of the pool. Edward gripped me and pulled me up, making my freak out worse and my crush on him only stronger, but with one annoyed and harsh sentence, Edward reminded me that I was just a bratty little sister to him.
"God, you're such a stupid klutz, Bruiser!"
He told me to go home and stay there. Of course, I cried and cried. It was awful. Ugh, yeah. No, again, here came the good and bad memories. I had to shake off that memory and the feelings it brought. That was a long time ago, and I wasn't a kid anymore with The Little Mermaid one-piece.
"Here we are," Edward says now, leading me into the VIP in the corner of the club. The place is crazy fancy. It has white leather sofas positioned in an L-shape with a massive black marble coffee table in the center and a soft, purplish drape surrounding everything. The scene feels super intimate. "Would you like something to drink?"
Sitting down, I notice that it's just the two of us, and Edward's teammates weren't here. I gulp roughly, suddenly feeling nervous and parched.
"Um, yeah," I say. "Wine would be great."
"Classy. It's a far cry from Southern Comfort."
Ah, this is another excellent story at Edward's house, where I tagged along with him and my brother. They broke into the liquor cabinet and played bartender.
"First of all, I was thirteen and stupid, and second, you and Emmett dared me to do it!"
"You professed your love for me that night."
My eyes widen as the dim memory comes into clear view. "Oh, god, no, I didn't."
"You most definitely did."
I'm hiding my growing blush with my hands.
Not only did I tell Edward that I was madly in love with him, but I said we would get married so I could have ten of his babies. Of course, Emmett cut me off after that, but it was too late.
"This is my worst nightmare," I say with a groan.
A warm grasp on my wrists slowly peels my hands away from my face. Edward smiles. "Don't even sweat it, Bruiser. I'm not embarrassed."
"Why would you be embarrassed? You didn't drunkenly tell your brother's best friend that you wanted ten babies with him."
There's a brief flash in his eyes that I couldn't explain. It's like the thought of me being the mother of his kids turned him on - or maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see.
"Ten, huh? Is that how many you want with me? I was a bit foggy on the actual number."
"You seriously want me to die of embarrassment, don't you?"
"Of course not, Bruiser. I just like seeing you blush."
The energy between us crackles, and the room gets so small. Edward slowly leans into me, but I panic and jerk away.
"Drinks! You said you were going to get us drinks."
Edward frowns slightly, apparently disappointed, but recovers and gives me that ol' Cullen charm and smile.
"Drinks coming up. I'll be right back."
My body gives out when Edward is gone, and I sink into the lush sofa. "Oh, my goodness."
My mind is racing. Did Edward try to kiss me? The lean is a classic sign of wanting to touch lips with someone, and I go and mess it all up. It's impossible to be a normal or my flirty self around him. He makes me second-guess everything, and half the time, I can't breathe. It's like I wasn't a grown woman but a silly teenager. But then I think about his lips, how soft they looked, and how his tongue licked them from time to time.
I would put good money on him being a powerful kisser.
"I didn't know what kind of wine you liked, so I took a guess." Edward plops down next to me and hands the glass over.
"Well, it's white. That's a good start." I take a sip, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Not Chardonnay?"
"No, Moscato." He looks pleased with himself.
"Impressive. Most of my dates guess Chardonnay."
My eyes go wide with terror from my slip of the tongue. Edward smiles as he watches my brain think of a way to backtrack.
"I mean, I'm not saying this is what this is or anything. I'm just saying Moscato is good. I like it."
"For argument's sake, let's say this is a date."
"Okay."
"Ask me why I chose Moscato for you instead of the obvious Chardonnay."
As a reflex of attraction, my whole body angles itself toward him. Edward notices and moves in even closer.
"Why did you choose Moscato for me?"
"Because I was expecting to see Emmett today. He was the one I got the ticket for."
And just like that, I'm deflated. I feel guilty and like an intruder. Every word and gesture from Edward must have been a mixed signal. There'a egg all over my face, and all I want to do is go home and cry - silly, klutzy Belly, you're just a stupid kid, and EC will never like you.
"I shouldn't have come here." I set my wine down on the table. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry." I gather my purse and stand.
Edward jumps to his feet. "You're leaving? Why? You just got here."
He's outstretched his arms to keep me from walking out.
"You gave that ticket to Emmett, and you're disappointed it was me who showed up."
"Bella, sit down. You got me all wrong."
It doesn't take much coaxing from him to get me to stay. There is no way I want to leave. Finally, we sit back down, and Edward hands me my wine.
"Yes, I gave Emmett that ticket, and of course, I expected to see him today, but when I saw you instead, I was … pleasantly surprised." Edward places a hand on my knee.
"I was surprised to see you too." I cover his hand with mine.
"You see, Emmett's the obvious Chardonnay, and you're the Moscato. The wine only lucky people with good taste pick."
Edward's sincerity strikes me as different. I know a boy can grow into a man, but he's not like the men I know who are still boys. How he looks at me like I'm the only girl in this world is terrifying but exciting too.
"Moscato is a good pick," I say, taking another sip.
Edward's gaze narrows in on my mouth. "So, tell me about these generic men you've dated."
I laugh. "Well, where do you want me to start?"
His eyebrow cocks in surprise. "There's a lot to choose from?"
"Only a few, but they've been interesting, to say the least."
"Give me an example."
"There was Mike, the talented painter. I was his muse and the only girl who inspired him. So I sat for him a lot."
"Really? Where can I buy these?"
"Don't get too excited. Mike was obsessed with hands."
Edward laughs. "So, whatever happened to this guy?"
"He had many muses, and that became a problem. We split last year."
Edward appears interested. "Give me one more."
I thought for about twenty seconds until the one I'd almost fallen in love with came to mind.
"Eric was pre-med and intense. He could be a Moscato type of guy, but I was not his type of girl."
"How so?"
"He needed someone with ambition. My business degree seemed too aloof for him. So, after a month, he dumped me."
Edward scoffs. "What an idiot."
"It wasn't meant to be," I say with a shrug.
"And now you're drinking Moscato with me."
"Yeah, don't even get me started on how surreal this is."
"What do you mean?"
"You're a football God, EC. You always have been. The only difference is that the whole world knows it and not just our small town."
"So it's 'EC' now?" Edward frowns slightly. "I hope that's not how you see me."
"It doesn't matter how I see you. That's what you are. It's not who you are."
The truth is more complicated. I see Edward as more. He isn't just this myth-like EC character but a friend, a unique, talented athlete, the student body president, and the boy who stole my heart.
Edward sits back slightly on the sofa and studies me. "So, tell me some things about you."
"What do you want to know?"
"Are you serious with anyone right now?"
I shake my head, but my voice is strained with anxiety and comes out as a whisper. "Are you?"
"No." Edward sits up and rests his hand on my knee again. This time, his thumb is making circular motions, causing spontaneous goosebumps. "I'm just surprised that you don't have a boyfriend."
"It's not all that surprising to me," I say. "My standards are pretty high."
Every man I dated couldn't measure up to the man in front of me. They wouldn't have Edward's green eyes, that hair, and definitely not his crooked smile. Mostly, though, they could never make me feel the way Edward was making me feel now.
Edward cocks his head to the side. "Oh? So what does your perfect guy look like?"
Would he kiss me if I told him that he was the standard? Would he laugh at me for being a foolish little girl? These questions rattled off in my mind.
I decide to play it aloof. "You know, rich, handsome, and hung like a horse."
Edward bursts out laughing. "I don't know about checking all those boxes, but I am pretty close."
"I bet you are," I say, and stupid me, I glance down at his junk. When I look back up, he's smugly smirking at me. My blush explodes. "Busted."
"Totally busted."
I shrug and sip on my wine. "What can I say? I'm all grown up."
Edward hums. "You're trouble."
Things get uncomfortable, so I down the rest of my Moscato. It's stupid of me to drink that much, but I need the courage to get through this evening. Edward takes my glass and heads back for the bar. I can relax while he's gone. The conversation would flow if I weren't holding back, but he scares me. It would be so easy to fall back into loving him. I want him so bad I can feel it in my teeth. Gosh, that's weird to say, but it's true.
But I think he wants me as well. I'm not blind. He's obviously flirting with me. Okay, silly Belly, you get your act together. The next time this beautiful man tries to kiss you, you don't freak out. You make it happen.
Oh, man, I can feel his lips on me, so soft and firm.
"What are you smiling about?"
Edward sneaks up on me again in the middle of my daydreaming, but when I see him, my mind and body shift. Every part of me is like a laser beam aimed right at him. It's an invitation to get closer and he notices - which he happily obliges.
He sits next to me on the sofa, but our legs touch this time. The gap between us is shortened and we are thigh to thigh and four inches from lip to lip.
He hands me a full glass of wine.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I ask.
"No, that would be stupid of me."
"And why is that?" I lean in more.
He doesn't move, allowing us to get closer.
"When I kiss you tonight," he says, "I want you to really want it, and not because you're drunk or I'm EC, some football god."
"You want to kiss me?"
"Very much." Edward slips the glass out of my hand and sits it on the table. "But right now, will you dance with me?"
"You want to dance here?" I barely have that sentence out before Edward pulls me up and into his arms.
"Why not here? We have the whole VIP to ourselves, and I requested a song with the DJ."
Justin Timberlake's Mirrors is playing over the speakers as if on cue.
It floors me, and I shoot a wary look at Edward. "Nooo, is this?"
It was the same song that played at seventh-grade dance. Edward danced with me when no other boy would. That's when I knew I would marry him.
"You remembered?"
"It's our song, Bruiser." Edward grips me tightly, and we begin to sway.
I lay my head on his chest, too overwhelmed and not trusting myself to stay calm. Deep down, I know I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, but I can't stop making mistakes.
How am I supposed to keep myself from falling in love with him all over again?
And Edward isn't helping the situation.
He makes every second worse than the last.
First, his hands are on my hips, but then they travel up my back and finally rest on my neck. Then he hums the song, only making a point to sing these lyrics: Cause I don't wanna lose you now. I'm lookin' right at the other half of me.
When the song ends, we keep dancing. Neither of us wants to let the other one go. My heart pounds intensely against him. I'm so nervous but praying that he'll kiss me.
"This feels right," Edward whispers into my ear. "Don't you feel that?"
I slowly pull away and look up at him. The intensity of his eyes makes me gasp. He cups the side of my face with one hand and uses his other hand on my waist to bring us closer.
"Can I kiss you now, Bruiser?"
I nod, and slowly, he bends forward and brings his lips to mine. Edward is initially soft, sweet, and patient, slowly easing me into things.
My greed raises me on my tip-toes to deepen the kiss, and that simple move sparks a need in Edward. He becomes more forceful, dominant, and wanton. His tongue sweeps against my bottom lip until I open my mouth.
As expected, he tastes like a mistake, but one I would make over without regrets.
The kiss gets more intense as he digs his fingers into my hips. A whimper escapes me, and Edward groans and lifts me off the floor. I wrap my legs around him. This position gives me more leverage to run my fingers through his hair and kiss him as hard as possible. I can't seem to get enough. Pandora's box was open now and I needed to feel him inside me.
"Fuck!" Edward pants as he pulls away from my mouth. He holds me tightly against him, and I can feel his heart pounding - or is that mine?
I am so disoriented and dizzy from the kiss. My forehead falls to his shoulder as I try to understand what has happened to me. The passion in that one kiss was more than anything I've ever experienced in my whole life. It has zapped a lot out of me, but I'm hooked and want more.
Edward's hands move into my hair, and he turns slightly towards me, his hot breath on my neck, and he asks, "You wanna get out of here?"
AN: so, I'm really feeling this story right now and the muse is on fire, and I already have chapter 3 pre-written, but I'm going to hold off for a few days until I can try to come up with a realistic posting schedule for you.
Thank you for reading! Hope to see ya soon!
