DISCLAIMER: The story doesn't belong to me; the characters are property of S. Meyer, and the plot belongs to Annalau Thank you so much for letting me share your story in English!
Gracias Laura, por darme esta oportunidad!
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Chapter 11
«Don't kiss me, please. Don't do it.»
As if Edward reads my thoughts, he moves away from me putting a safe distance.
Without letting go of my face, he smiles, pulling some of my hair behind my ears. He adjusts again the hat that protects me from the cold.
"I'm keeping you awake, Isabella," his tone is hoarse. "You should go to sleep"
Feeling reality slap my face, I blink. This is not right. Not good at all.
I shiver; but I don't know if it's because of the cold or because of him.
I mimic a yawn.
"You're right, I'll go to sleep."
Without wasting time, I go into the tent. Pat is on one side, and you can barely see his blond hair above the sleeping bag. His soft snoring tells me he is sleeping deeply.
I make room for myself at the far end of the tent, curling myself into a ball and tangling myself between thick blankets. My teeth chatter. It's too freezing in here.
As soon as I close my eyes, Edward pops into every thought in my head.
I squeeze my eyelids shut hoping sleep will overtake me, so I won't think anymore. Not about him. Only that my urge to go to the bathroom starts and becomes more and more demanding. I freeze when I hear noises.
Edward has just laid down in the middle of us.
"Stop moving," he murmurs, "You're keeping me awake."
"I'm so cold. I also need to go to the bathroom, and I refuse to leave here."
"Do you have a bladder problem? You've been marking pine trees all day," his mocking tone embarrasses me. "Isabella... you'd better go at once. There are dangerous animals in the dark."
Startled, I sit up suddenly.
"No, I won't go out."
"Then go to sleep." He turns his back on me.
I crawl back under the covers, still shivering and also moving from side to side in search of warmth. I pull my back as close as I can to Edward, immediately feeling his bodily warmth needed to soothe my temperature. I close my eyes and forget everything.
"Good morning, little octopus."
In the distance I hear Edward followed by a suffocating laugh. He is accompanied by another equally amused giggle next to him.
"I think she's dreaming you're her bear, Dad," that voice belongs to Pat.
I open my eyes and discover with much embarrassment that I am hugging Edward, one of my legs is even draped over his. I pull away immediately.
Sitting; I comb my messy hair. My mane must look like a bird's nest.
Edward looks at me. There's a big smile on his lips.
"I thought you'd be asleep for the rest of the morning. You looked like a little octopus stuck to me," he says amused, standing up. My face feels hot. "We need to pack up, we need breakfast."
I nod embarrassed, as Pat follows him outside. I look out: the day is very clear, and everything is still covered in snow.
"Tell me we're going to the restaurant downtown for breakfast," the boy demands to know.
Wait a minute, what restaurant? Full of curiosity, I go out with them.
"Where is the restaurant?" I ask.
Edward looks at his son and makes some signs that I don't know how to interpret. Pat goes back inside.
My hands are on my hips waiting for an explanation.
"There is a resort on the other side," he reveals.
My indignation grows. I want so badly to slap that perfect face.
"You put me through a terrible night where I thought I would freeze to death and there happens to be a resort?!"
"Can't you read? There's a big sign at the bottom that says: Minocqua Winter Park. Only we wanted to spend a night outdoors. It's illegal by the way," he points his finger at me. So we should leave before we get caught."
"You're out of your mind."
I'm going after him. Edward starts to dismantle the tent.
"Why expose your child? I don't understand. Aren't you afraid?"
He sighs wearily, turning to me.
"Life is a constant risk; we must be prepared for any shock."
"But Pat is just a child."
"Patrick is happy the way I taught him to live," he explains proudly. "I assure you that he enjoys every adventure, he does it without fear and full of excitement."
I end up smiling when I hear him speak. There is no doubt that Edward is an amazing and reckless father.
"Come on," he encourages me. "We have to pick everything up."
I can't take the smile off my lips when after dismantling the tent we continue walking downhill and throwing snowballs at each other from time to time. This time Edward is more attentive and dodges them with ease.
Our breakfast is hot and full of excessive calories that will keep us satisfied for many hours. I would like to think that because of all the energy we will expend skiing in the snow that we have eaten too much.
"Look, Dad," Pat holds my hand and shows his father my bracelets. "Bella's boyfriend's name is Tyler, isn't it?" he asks, sliding his fingertip over each bracelet. "She also has a necklace."
The boy puts his hand on mine and smilingly shows the gold-colored letter "T" that adorns my neck.
Edward makes a grimace disguised as a smile and continues eating without paying attention to what his son indicates.
"Why don't you wear something with Irina's name on it?" Pat suggests.
"I'm not a teenager," he replies dryly and curtly. "Besides, I didn't do it in my youth, and I won't do it now."
"Ah..." the boy nods cluelessly, looks at me. "Does your boyfriend also wear bracelets with your name on them?"
"Yes, he wears them too," I mumble, still fiddling with the letters that form Tyler's name on my wrist. "You know what? I've never taken these bracelets off. I've only replaced them when necessary."
"Are you two getting married?"
I look at Pat's face. He's a curious, cheerful boy; now his cheeks are flushed. I want to believe it's because of the heat in the cafeteria and not because of his question.
Marry?
I smile dreamy.
A year ago I would have said yes immediately and without hesitation. Today I can't do that. I mean, Tyler and I made a lot of plans that I didn't follow through on. I can't feel like it's worked out between us until I come clean with him and tell him everything that happened with me. Including the part where I met Edward.
Feeling like a traitor, I shake my head.
"I don't know. I'm not sure," I reply.
"So why are you going with him? It's because you're getting married, right?"
Edward clears his throat, catching our attention. His face is serious, and his eyes have turned cold, very typical of him.
"Let's go," he asks us abruptly, standing up and walking out of the cafeteria.
Pat and I exchanged glances as we ran after him.
"What's wrong, Dad?"
"We're running late," Edward replies, still striding along.
Pat turns to me with a shrug and I give him a reassuring smile. I want to tell him the old "that's us grown-ups, complicated" story. Instead I decide I shouldn't talk about it. Maybe his father suffers from bipolar disorder and if so, I'm not the one to reveal his diagnosis.
After Edward's grumpy outburst the morning got slow and lousy. And this time the cause is me. Yes! They are being patient trying to help me ski in the snow, but my legs just won't cooperate one bit.
I had landed in a thousand and one ways on the snow that I am convinced my buttocks are bright red, apart from sore.
"Okay, Isabella," Edward exhales slowly, "don't look down. You must keep your eyes straight ahead to know where you are going. You mustn't bring your legs together either, because that way you won't be able to find the balance your body needs."
"I just can't."
Edward removes his ski goggles revealing his emerald, green eyes. There's just enough understanding in his gaze not to embarrass me.
"Do you want to get some rest?"
"I'd like to rest for the rest of the day. My whole body aches."
He smiles at me, putting his arm around my shoulders. He leads me down a safe path away from all the skiers.
"I will take you to a less crowded place. Maybe there you can feel better and enjoy yourself without being so nervous about crashing into people."
"What about Pat?"
"Don't worry, he'll look for us. My son knows where to find us."
"When you take off your grumpy face, you're nice."
He lets out a loud laugh that makes me raise my face and look at him, his laughter is infectious.
"I really don't know what's happened to me," he admits, and his countenance has become serious. "I don't like what I'm feeling, and I still don't know how to behave about it."
I don't understand what he means, I can only raise my eyebrows as we continue walking now among the old pine trees. After several meters we stop in a small lonely and silent space.
Edward crouches down, putting the skis on my boots, pulls my hand and makes me scream.
"Relax," he whispers without letting go. "Relax and enjoy."
When he lets go of my hand I do as he told me: I bend my knees slightly without letting go of the poles. My skis are sliding and the smile on my lips turns into a grimace of terror as I realize I'm picking up speed downhill. My nerves are frayed, and my heart is pumping wildly.
"Isabella, put your feet together!" I hear Edward shout, but I don't see him. "Do it! Drag your canes! Drag them, now!"
"God, Isabella, you'll crash!"
I close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
Everything is so fast I don't have time to scream. An iron arm grips my waist and in seconds I'm lying on my back in the snow. The helmet on my head whips several times over the surface. Everything is spinning.
I feel so much pressure that I can't breathe.
"Are you okay?" Edward's whispering voice forces me to open my eyes. He is on top of me with all his weight. With a gesture of mortification he removes my helmet and my glasses, his hands start patting my face with desperation. "Isabella, answer me. Are you in pain?"
I want to speak, but my voice won't come out of my throat. I can't even keep my eyes open.
"What happened to her, dad?" that's Pat and he sounds worried.
"She was sliding out of control. She was going to crash into the trees. I had to stop her by whipping her body against the snow." Edward sounds bad too, very upset.
"Do you think she broke a bone?"
"God, Pat. Don't be negative."
Edward moves off me and kneels beside my body to manipulate my face again, this time very carefully.
"Talk to me, Isabella. Tell me if anything hurts," he asks.
I open my eyes; his face is very close.
"I'm fine," I tell him, taking a deep breath. "I just couldn't breathe."
Both men sigh.
Edward settles my head in his lap while Pat brushes my hair away from my face, holding my hand in his.
"Excuse us," Pat murmurs, his gesture shy. "I don't think we should have brought you. You're a girl and girls are always delicate."
I swallow, my mouth has gone dry.
"Don't worry about it. I like it here... with you."
"Okay, but now we'll do dainty things that sound boring like a Sunday backyard barbecue. You'll set the table."
I smile at the witticism. He's a sweet boy.
"No. I'd rather be taught to be wild like you."
"We are not wild," Edward interjects, imitating an offended voice that makes me laugh. It's so comfortable to be in his arms that I don't want to move. It's funny the sensation he makes me feel. It's a mixture of tenderness and protection.
"So you want to belong to our pack?"
I nod at Pat's question. He rubs his head while maintaining his huge grin. His face looks like it will explode with glee at any moment.
I laugh.
"Well, welcome," one of his hands shakes mine hard. "Come on, stand up. Now we'll play snowmobile races, and we won't let you win, okay?"
I'm on my feet and even though I'm dizzy I feel fine. Sore, but fine.
"Do you really feel fine?" Edward says, holding my body in his arms; I'm still dizzy.
"Yes, I'm not as delicate as you think I am."
"Now you'll play rough?"
"Of course I will. I'll beat the shit out of you on snowmobiles, you'll see."
Edward steps in front of me, cutting me off, puts his hands on my shoulders.
"Are you challenging me?"
"Yes, I am." I give him a wink. "And you're going to lose to me."
He laughs.
"I never lose."
"And I don't give up."
"So, let the game begin," he puts on his glasses, smiles, and turns around, following his path ahead of me. "Don't think I'll give you a head start, Isabella!"
I run after him.
These men and their lack of chivalry.
Hello! Another chapter. Bella always complains that they are not gentlemanly with her; do you think they should change? What do you think of Edward and Pat? Do you think the Cullens are falling for Bella? Do you want to know what Edward thinks? The next chapter is narrated by him. Let me know your opinions, I will gladly read them.
To those who commented all my special thanks: Guest, motherbeatrice, Ale Stewart, cocoa blizzard, Dulce Carolina, Rosemarie28, Pattsy1994, , acw1, Marymary123, Godschildtweety
See you on the next chapter :)