…

Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

44: Hip Gran-Gran Pants

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Saturday, February 11 (cont.)

Edward lived in Esme's old bedroom, an amalgamation of tassels, old-timey purple drapery and enormous rose prints half-hidden behind posters of modern gyroplanes, sonic boom predictions of hypersonic vehicles, aerodynamic studies of aircraft designs and a cluster of posters describing the insides of gas turbines, reciprocating engines and other mechanical parts I couldn't have dreamed of identifying. The small dining table in the corner of his room was covered in those same green sheets from the insides of electronics, wires and coils, a white plastic block with lots of holes in it, and a soldering iron.

Above the table, a large photo of the Perseverance rover was pinned next to an infographic of its landing on Mars.

In spite of the floor-to-ceiling built-in wardrobe brimming with women's dresses, Edward's clothes were folded in four cardboard boxes on the side of the room. The textbooks stacked on the shelves and the floor were similarly themed on applied computational aerodynamics, fundamentals of astrodynamics, fracture mechanics and other titles I could barely comprehend. I knew Edward read a lot, I'd caught him reading during breaks, but the fact that these were his preferred topics blew me away.

Like Riley's little pile of children's books, Edward's textbooks had barcodes on the back for the library. Except, of course, the still-wrapped pentalogy of Underground Memories pushed up against his boxes.

His bed was covered in that flowery blankie Tyler had teased him for. I picked up the single framed photo from his side table, one of a short-haired, kind-eyed woman, a muscled, severe-looking man, and a boy with thick, warm brown hair, all smiling at the camera from a fishing boat.

"You have wavy hair." Surprised, I brushed my thumb over the photo. "Do you know what an unrequited kid-crush I would've had on you if you'd been visiting your granny while I was here, too?"

Edward returned the frame to the side table and pecked my lips. I returned his grin. I was painfully aware of the enormous show of trust from his part to be willing to show me his room, and, remembering what a nervous wreck I'd been compared to the chill, confident man calmly observing me, my eyes widened.

"You ran out of gum, didn't you?"

Edward laughed so loud he had to muffle it in my hair, and I adored the warmth of his bare skin through my T-shirt as I hugged him.

"I should've never told you," he said with a smile in his voice.

"I'm glad you did. It's surreal how little I can tell when you're nervous. You are, right?"

The sharp bursts of air landing on my neck proved his silent laughter, and I felt his chest expand with his inhale.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"No reason to be," I replied, kissing his bare chest. "Your room has so much character. Mine is like… a boring two-star hotel room compared to yours. This is a treasure trove. I love it."

Edward kissed me, slid his hand in mine and let me take in the rest of the room. The black-and-white poster of half a face and text above the headboard of Edward's bed read, 'I spend hours playing chess because I find it so much fun. The day it stops being fun is the day I give up.'

"Magnus Carlsen," Edward explained, noticing my attention.

"You mentioned him, I think. Is he the best of all time?"

"He's the most versatile of all time, the only world champion in standard, blitz and rapid, and he has the highest elo of all time. But you'll get kicked out of Fegatello's Attack if you claim he's the best of all time. That's Garry Kasparov. But Magnus is… the current top."

"Are you close to beating him?"

Edward laughed, assessing me with his bright, twinkly eyes before he touched his nose against mine. "I love you."

Exhilarated and ashamed, all at once, I closed my eyes. "Sorry. Was that stupid?"

"No," he replied. "That was adorable. I hope that, one day, you're right. As of now, there's thousands of people between us."

Thousands out of eight billion people was a lot closer than most humans ever would be, though.

It took all my acting skills not to reveal the whiplash of discovering none other than Garrett Kamwanga on the wall next to the door, but my heartbeat slowed down when I realized that he was on a poster of Ignominious, right next to The Aviator and just below Sully. If Edward was into everything aircraft (and it seemed like he was), of course Ignominious would've made his radar.

"Have you seen all of these?" I asked.

"Of course. You?"

"I've seen these." I pointed at The Aviator and Sully before pausing at Ignominious. "But not this."

"You're kidding. I thought it was practically mandatory for young actors to study Best Picture nominees every year, not to mention the internet-splitting outrage when it lost." Edward paused, incredulous until his face cleared. "Ah, was it NC-17? Didn't think your parents stuck to that kind of thing."

"They don't, I just—it's been a hell of a year. I really just haven't had the time."

It was a partial truth. It was not because the movie starred Garrett that I hadn't seen it—I'd seen a few of his films, although it never stopped feeling surreal—it was the fact that the sex scene in it was said to be… explicit. When Alice giggled into her scarf after seeing the movie, wishing me good luck with that particular scene, I didn't exactly run to see it. And it wasn't like my parents encouraged it. I mean, they didn't discourage me, either, but… I didn't watch Garrett's movies around them. It would've felt too awkward.

Feeling Edward's warmth beside me, observing his face in silence, I considered telling him outright that Garrett was, in fact, related to me, but I didn't feel like discussing my biological father for the rest of the night (as we would've ended up doing). Even so, as used to keeping this a secret as I was, I couldn't postpone telling him forever.

"Would you be okay with watching it with me on my birthday?" I asked, hoping that not only would scheduling the Garrett discussion help me in starting it, doing so on Thursday would allow me to share and discuss having to meet the man for the first time on Friday.

"Absolutely. Are you up for the Director's Cut? It has all the extended scenes for when the main character fixes the engine in the mountains." Edward hesitated, apprehensive. "Is that too nerdy? Sorry, I—"

"I'd love to," I replied. "As long as you explain it all to me."

Edward's hot kiss expressed his eagerness to explain aircraft engines to stupid little me.

Having enjoyed his posters in sufficient detail, I kneeled on the bed, suddenly acutely aware of being alone with Edward in his bedroom. Apparently with the same thoughts, Edward sat beside me and pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, looking at me with such simmering affection in his eyes that my stomach danced with butterflies. Leaning on his straight arms, Edward scooted closer, his bright, half-hooded eyes lingering on my face.

"Shh," he whispered, tracing his knuckles along my arm. "There's a hot chick on my bed. Quiet, you might spook her."

Breathless in his gaze, I grinned against his shoulder.

"I thought I was a lady now."

Edward eyes darkened. "Oh, I've noticed, ma'am."

Laughing, I pushed against his chest. "Don't you start, sir."

He caught my wrist. "Calling me sir will not help your cause."

"Why, you like it?"

Edward nudged me to lie down and lowered himself beside me. Leaning against his elbow, facing me, he nuzzled my cheek and stifled his smile. I adored the silent intensity in his eyes.

"Yeah," he admitted.

I turned my head, brushing my lips against his.

"Hot?" I whispered against his mouth as if I knew what I was doing.

"Hot," he agreed, all rumbly and sexy as he squished me against him, splaying his palm flat on my back. I rested my cheek on his bicep. His long eyelashes moved as he observed me with parted pink lips and warm toothpaste-y breath, and I felt afloat in the silent, simmering energy in his eyes. Stretching in his arms, I touched his nose with mine, eager to kiss him breathless, but Edward paused.

"Thanks for being so good with Riley," he said, quietly. "You've no clue how long he's capable of screaming without telling me what's wrong, so… you're my fairy godmother tonight."

"I… don't know if I was good," I replied, shifting my gears to match his. "I don't know anything about kids. I'm kind of… winging it."

"Hey, that makes two of us. And your reading was so much better than mine he'll whine about having you over for a month, minimum."

"But you're… amazing with him. You're endlessly patient."

Edward scoffed. "I'm not. Inside I'm not. And you should've seen me last September. My aunt started dropping him off with no warning, and the first two weeks, I just… I was so fucking angry. At her, at Riley, at my dad. I had to flip my schedule around on a daily basis, skip chess, skip competitions, skip meeting up with friends. I was careful not to say anything to Riley directly but he could tell that his mere presence pissed me off. It was not helpful. He grew scared of me, so I—I started keeping my anger for his mom, especially when I discovered she'd never read to him, not a single fucking book. A teacher. And even knowing why he doesn't tell me the reason he's crying doesn't help how aggravating I find it. He pees himself, doesn't tell me. Hungry, doesn't tell me. Cold, doesn't tell me. It's just—I'm not good at this, Bella. I've no clue what the fuck I'm doing. I curse a lot. I fuck up a lot. And the fact that you were two years old when your parents were eighteen, having you on purpose? Like, fuck. That's insane."

"But you're amazing at it. Clearly, he adores you." I brushed my thumb over his frown, my voice equally low. "But why doesn't he tell you the reason he's crying?"

Edward's exhale blew against my face. "Turns out if you punish a kid for telling you things you don't like, and you act out every time, they learn not to get punished for the things that upset you. The way to do that is not to tell you things."

"His mom?"

"Yup. But I'm not with him long enough to change him out of his habits. I'm not even sure I'd know how. How did your parents get you to be so outspoken?"

I thought back on my childhood, comparing it to Riley's. "I think… if you say that Riley's always been punished for expressing himself, I'm… the opposite. I never got punished for my opinions. I mean, we had discussions and stuff, but compared to my friends' parents? I feel spoiled, almost. Like, the kind of stuff Alice feels the need to lie about to her parents, I wouldn't even bat an eyelash, telling mine. I can't recall a single time of telling them anything where they overreacted to something stupid."

"Your parents are insane, though. The fact that they're okay with you staying overnight with me kind of blows my mind."

I stifled my smile. "My dad is actually… struggling."

"Really?"

"Really."

He drew patterns on my back with his fingertips while I bathed in his warmth. I kissed his bicep, hesitating.

"Speaking of expressing myself, I… I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry you feel responsible for me. It's not fair to you, and it's okay if you resent it, and you can definitely say no to hanging out with me when my parents—"

"Bella," Edward interrupted, pushing me on my back and hovering over me, his biceps on either side of my neck and his sharp eyes full of remorse. "Feather-heart," he repeated, touching my nose with his. "Forget I said that."

"I can't," I whispered, overwhelmed by his scent and his weight on top of me. I stared at his lips to avoid looking in his eyes. "It kills me that I'm yet another obligation in your life. You have so much—"

"Baby." Edward brushed his palm over my hair. His eyes were endlessly soft when I finally met his gaze. "That is not what I meant. Yes, I feel responsible for you, but it's a universe away from how I feel responsible for anything else in my life. I need to keep you safe. I'm glad your parents trust me to do that, and I do not know how I would've survived it had something happened to you today. Not because I feel obliged, but because I love you. Fuck, you've no clue…"

He pressed his hot, soft lips against mine, covering my chest with his, and I gasped against his mouth. Surrounded by the sound and warmth of our breaths mixing, I clutched his neck, pulling him closer. He groaned, a deep rumble that vibrated through me before he pulled his face away. "One second," he whispered, voice rough. He got up, shut the door, and put the metal hook latch into its worn eye. "He usually starts waking up after midnight, but…"

Edward switched off the ceiling lamp and returned to the bed, straddling me. Adoring the happy trail on his lean, fit stomach, I brushed my knuckles against it and laughed when Edward jerked and grabbed my wrist, grinning in spite of the warning in his eyes. His severe-looking features lit up, transforming the buzz cut, bar bell, earring and sharp jaw into something altogether soft-hearted. His gaze followed the contours of my body in his enormous T-shirt, and his eyes blazed when they met mine.

"I didn't lock the door to…" He pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, searching my eyes, apologetic and eager all at once. "We don't have to—"

I took hold of his waist, pulling his firm, intoxicating weight on mine as I curled my knee around his hips and whispered his name.

Cursing, Edward inhaled his name from my lips and settled on top of me. His kisses, smiles, and endless warm palms stroking my skin set me aflame. His hard-on throbbed against my hip, and I adored touching him—his firm biceps, goose-bumpy neck, warm chest and beautiful happy trail. The world began and ended with his tongue touching mine and his touch sending the wildest ache through my body. I arched against him when he pressed his lips against my neck, his thumb brushing just under my boob (I wasn't wearing a bra), and his low, rumbly voice made me feel dizzy with need.

"Can I—?"

Lips swollen with my kisses, he looked at me with a sexy, half-drunk energy in his eyes, clearly asking to touch my boobs. I grinned as I began to tug the T-shirt out of the way but I stopped, eyes wide.

"Shit we don't have to," Edward backtracked at my expression, nuzzling my neck and removing his palm. "Sorry. Sorry."

"No!" I argued, sliding his palm back on my stomach but flushing to my toes. "I want to."

Edward let out a breath against my skin. "It's okay."

I threw my elbow over my eyes in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to remove my T-shirt and make out with him, but he'd never been with anyone black or mixed-race and I didn't want to disappoint him.

"I don't have pink nipples," I said out of the blue.

Blood whooshed in my ears as I realized what I'd admitted. I peeked out from behind my arm.

Edward blinked once.

He blinked twice.

On his third blink, he shook his head in a kind of twitch, shaking off the words.

"I'm… sorry. What?"

I facepalmed, properly, hiding my cheeks in my hands and grinning from the awkwardness and hoping the earth would swallow me whole and never spit me out again.

"In books, women always have pink nipples. Like, flowers or some shit, always, always, always pink. I… I don't."

Edward tried hard to stifle his smile but the amused sparkle in his eyes was undeniable. "I've seen porn, Bella. Which part of this is supposed to be a surprise to me?"

Porn. Right.

I shut my eyes and groaned, feeling stupid and inexperienced and wishing I could turn back time.

"Now I'm curious," Edward continued with a smile so obvious in his voice I didn't have to open my eyes to know he was on the brink of laughter. "What kind of books does my girlfriend read? And… are you really surprised I watch porn?"

"I'm not surprised."

An edge of laughter creeped into his tone. "Wait, you don't watch porn?"

"No."

"Really?"

Groaning, I smiled at our ridiculous conversation and peeked out from behind my fingers.

"I'm a lady, Edward," I replied. "I read porn."

Edward lost it, nuzzling my neck as he shook with laughter against me.

"Don't laugh at me!"

Half-hugging, half-lying on top of me, Edward took a moment to stop laughing, and the beaming, twinkling smile he emerged with nearly made me push him off the bed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, clearly not meaning it. "It's not at you. It's just— What the fuck does the world do to women that the most beautiful girl I've met is insecure about the color of her nipples? That's insane. Do you know what most men find attractive in women? There's two things. Guess."

Dizzy with the casualness of his compliment, I hesitated. "Boobs and… ass?"

Edward smushed his face against mine as if he wanted to kiss me but he only laughed against my cheek. "Love both of yours. Love them, love them. No complaints. But—" Edward paused dramatically, beaming his face off. "One, the girl you're attracted to is also attracted to you? Holy shit, impossible. Two, said girl wants to do stuff with you in your bed? Bam. Jackpot." He wiggled his fingers. "Oh what's that? No more requirements? No expectations about the shape of her bellybutton or the color of her nipples?"

I laughed and shoved a pillow in his face, and even as he reappeared with the stupidest smile in his face, I couldn't stay mad at him. He propped himself up on his elbow, leaning on his palm and looking down at me. Slowly, his laughter was replaced with a soft smile as he ran his fingers over my stomach.

"We don't have to do anything," Edward said quietly. "Especially not— maybe it's better this way. And I'm sorry I laughed. But I don't have words for how much I don't care about shit like that."

"But your favorite color is pink."

Edward face-planted against my shoulder. "I am not four fucking years old, Bella. I don't need the world and everything in it to be my favorite color. In fact, I'd be pretty bored if it were. I don't care. I promise, if you'd taken off your T-shirt, my first thought would've been, 'Holy shit, boobs,' followed by, 'Holy shit, boobs' because… I doubt anything else will—"

I took off my T-shirt.

The room was colder than I'd thought.

Gaping, Edward's eyes searched mine, as if asking for permission to look. It took everything in me not to cover myself up, and when I bit my bottom lip and stifled my smile, Edward pushed me on my back and straddled my hips, pressing his forehead against mine. His hand carefully held my waist.

"Baby," he whispered, voice restrained, longing, happy—all at once. Grinning, I put his rough, permanently stained palm on top of my breast, and his sharp breath blew against my cheek.

"Holy shit, boob?" I joked, unable to stop smiling. It was too surreal, hot but amusing. Edward, too, grinned against my skin. His thumb flicked over my nipple and sent a funny little jolt through me, intimate and vulnerable. He squeezed my boob.

"Fuck it's so soft," Edward muttered, closing his eyes like he was in pain. "It's the softest thing I've ever felt."

Switching off the bedside lamp, I captured his lips in a kiss, but no sooner had the light gone off than it turned on again. With a secret sparkle in his eyes, Edward touched my nose with his.

"We're not all kinesthetic learners, baby," he muttered with an almost shy smile. "Let me see."

Searching his eyes, I gulped. It was all fun and games until I actually had to live up to my teasing.

"Okay."

Making out with Edward without the T-shirt gave me such breathless skin-to-skin contact I wondered why I hadn't taken it off sooner. The happy trail on his stomach brushed against my skin, my boobs were squished against his chest, and his infinite warmth lit me up from the inside. Grinning and fumbling and touching each other, we laughed a lot, and I couldn't feel his hard-on close enough. He shifted lower and stared at my boobs with half-hooded, sexy wonder in his eyes before he wrapped his lips around my nipple, and suddenly it all stopped being quite so funny.

Until Edward began to talk to my boobs.

"Is she being mean to you?" he whispered. "Don't worry, I'll give you all the love and care you deserve."

Running my fingertips over his buzz cut, I laughed. "You are ridiculous."

"This is the best day of my life, baby." Edward pressed an open-mouthed kiss on each of my boobs before looking up, eyes twinkling. "Fuck they're beautiful. They're the most beautiful boobs I've ever seen."

"They're also the first boobs you've ever seen, aren't they?"

"Yes, but you're forgetting all the—" Edward paused, "extremely modest amount of porn I've seen, and none of it makes my statement any less true. If anything, it makes me a better judge."

I laughed.

"And I forbid you from saying anything bad about any part of your boobs ever again."

It wasn't so much Edward's lips on my breasts as his reaction to them that made me feel afloat. His joy was a wonder to witness, and he definitely gave my boobs all the love and care they deserved, so much so that his wandering palms on my skin and his hips pressing against mine sent the wildest, neediest ache through me. I wanted to touch his cock, but, remembering his reaction last time, I gathered my guts and slid his hand in my panties under his boxer-briefs.

Edward drew a sharp breath, detaching his lips from mine, wonder and disbelief in his eyes.

Feeling vulnerable but determined, I said, "Only, only if you want to."

Edward pulled his bottom lip in his mouth and searched my eyes, his own raw with emotion. His shaved cheek made my neck break out in goose bumps when he lowered his face next to mine.

"Feather-heart," he breathed against my ear, his slightly cold fingers unmoving. "What do you like?"

I squeezed his bicep. "I… don't know."

"What do you like when you make yourself feel good?"

I closed my eyes, biting my lip, unused to sharing such insanely intimate information with other humans, but I persisted, turning my head and keeping my voice low.

"Just…" Blushing to the moon and back, I muttered, "Slow and, and, gentle at first, and faster—later, but never too… never too hard, I think."

Edward's rumbling curses vibrated through me, but his incredulous smile probably matched mine. He kissed me. His fingers felt forbidden and delicious. Sharp gasps and light-headed fumbling turned to soft moans, muffled words and breathless laughter until Edward pressed his hips against the side of mine in desperate, powerful thrusts.

The way his mouth opened and brows furrowed, almost in pain, his green eyes blazing with need, it was just about the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

"Baby, are you—?"

His weight felt incredible on top of me—his soapy scent surrounding me, his fingers in my panties, his simmering eyes following every twitch in my expression—but while I felt lovely, I wasn't close. I grabbed hold of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, relishing the way he gasped against my mouth and pressed himself oh-so-close, once, twice, three times, twitching and groaning softly.

Nobody told me it would be hot just watching a guy come.

Lazy, hooded eyes met mine as Edward slumped half on top of me. I hugged him, feeling his labored breathing slow down against my neck until he lifted his face and nuzzled my cheek.

Holding me tight against him, he whispered, "Did you—?"

I prepared to lie because he looked so cute and hot, all relaxed like that, but it didn't feel right.

"No," I replied softly. "But that's okay. It was nice."

"Nice?!" Edward repeated, way too loud, like he'd never heard of a more offensive word. He lowered his voice, incredulous. "Baby, that was—incredible."

Not knowing how to continue the conversation without hurting him, I gave him a pursed-lipped smile, but Edward shut his eyes and touched his forehead against mine, frowning and full of self-recrimination. "Fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. Can I—?"

"It's okay—"

"Please," he whispered, hovering over me and kissing my lips. "I want to. I'd love to. Please let me."

His buzz cut tickled the tips of my fingers as I searched his eyes, unable to handle his puppy dog eyes for much longer.

"Okay."

Edward grinned, straddling my body and nudging my nose to inhale my breath and touch his tongue against mine. Leaning on his elbow, he played with my boobs with a silly smile on his face before, eyes never leaving mine, he slid his palm between my legs. He pressed the softest kisses on my face, whispering, "Teach me."

Blushing to the roots of my hair, I worried that maybe I couldn't even come from anyone else's hands, but, hoping that wasn't the case, I closed my eyes and pushed his arm lower, dying of embarrassment as I whispered tentative instructions to my eager boyfriend. Licking his lips, Edward observed the slightest change in my expression with an obsessive interest as his fingers slid between my folds. Taking hold of his forearm, I shifted his hand, and a jolt of pleasure surged through me when Edward flicked his fingers.

I twitched in his arms.

Eyes snapping to mine, he curled his finger again, and I let out a light laugh after I jerked against his arm and muffled my moan.

"Holy fuck," Edward groaned, looking at me like I unlocked the secret of the universe, and for the next ten minutes, he proved that what a straight-A student he was by doing whatever elicited the most intense response until I was dizzy with need, clenching and twitching and biting his shoulder not to be too loud. I'd barely returned from my high when Edward, eyes blazing, pressed himself against me as he thrust his hard-on against my most sensitive spot, kissing me, muffling our moans as he came again. Panting, he collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms and legs around his sweaty warmth and hid my nose in his neck, delirious with happiness. Edward returned my hug just as fiercely, rolling us on our sides but not allowing an inch of space between us as he peppered my hair and neck with kisses. Having the firmest, warmest, most attractive half-naked man who'd ever lived wrapped around me made ignoring the dull ache of my new piercings quite easy.

The thumping of our hearts was the only sound filling the next few minutes until Edward pulled his head back and brushed a few curls from my face. His skin glistened with sweat.

"Hi," he whispered, all twinkly eyes and soft, proud smile. "Better?"

"It was—"

"I will cry if you use the word 'nice'."

"No." I laughed. "It was—" I bit my lip, feeling a bit shy, using his words, "incredible."

Edward beamed, kissing the tip of my nose and opening his mouth before he hesitated. Doubt cast a shadow in his eyes, and while he didn't move away, his eyebrows pinched together.

"You didn't—" He cleared his throat. "You weren't acting, were you? Because— I'd much rather know that I sucked than, you know." Desperately searching my eyes, Edward pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, and the hurt in his gaze made my stomach clench. "Fuck, you're just sparing my feelings. Don't—do that. I'd much rather—it's okay that I was shit. I'll get better."

"No! Edward—" I cupped his face, looking him directly in the eye, pressing my lips against his soft ones. "No. Why would I have told you that I didn't come in the first place if I was acting?"

"You really—?"

"Of course I really," I replied, pretending that it was a full sentence like we usually did. "Besides, all the women in the movies mostly kind of… scream, which is not really, not how I—you know. I would've never known how to fake that. And I'm pretty sure I peed myself."

Relaxing, Edward stifled his smile. "I'm pretty sure you didn't. But if you did I'll wear it like a badge of honor."

I blew a raspberry against his neck and loved how he shook with laughter against me, holding me tight even though the wet, sticky situation between us was starting to feel cold and we both needed a shower or a change of clothes, or preferably both.

"You got any hip gran-gran pants to give me for the night?"

"Only the hippest," he replied, his sleepy, amazed eyes bursting with affection as he kissed me, but when we rolled over, I bumped against something on his nightstand and made a whole pile of electronics fall over.

"Fuck are you okay?" Edward asked, pressing his palm against the side of my head as he inspected the damage.

Reassuring him that I was brilliant if in need of a shower, I threw on my T-shirt and picked up the green sheets from the floor to gather them on the bed. Pressing his knuckles against his teeth, Edward motioned at my hands, opening and closing his mouth, clearly on the verge of commenting.

"What?"

"Baby, don't— don't hold Raspberry Pis like that. They're fragile."

"Raspberry… pies?"

"The single board computers you're holding. And—the PCBs you held before. Hold them from the sides."

Apologizing, I did as he asked.

"PCBs?"

"Printed circuit boards," he explained as if those words made a difference. "It's what makes the world go round."

I blinked, barely understanding the conversation we were having. "What do you do with them?"

"Everything," Edward replied, but his explanation faded in the background as I picked up a Georgia EBT card from the floor. The card had a photo of two peaches on it, and we'd owned an identical one not even three years ago, but what scared me most was that… a part of me had known.

A part of me had known that Edward was on SNAP benefits. I'd never asked, he'd never said it, but it was all over his habits, his empty fridge, the way he never turned down my leftovers and the way my mom always insisted on feeding him. She'd probably known even if she'd never said it.

But deep in the back of my mind, I'd known, too, or I would've turned down my mom when she sent me off with three days' worth of food to spend an evening with my boyfriend. The question now was, did Edward and his dad have any other source of income? How far did they have to stretch this money? Did his dad even live here?

True to my nosy nature, I was full of questions, but I swallowed them.

Quietly, I handed the EBT card to Edward. His words died on his lips as he accepted it, eyes locked on mine, and he gave me this absent, placating smile when he slid it into the side pocket of his backpack. Careful not to break his precious electronics, I scooted into his arms and ignored our cold, sticky pants as I straddled his lap and took his jaw in my hands. He avoided my eyes.

I hated it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, pressing a featherlight kiss against his lips.

"Not even a little bit."

I squished him into a hug and hid my chin in the crook of his neck. His breath warmed my neck, and I adored his death-grip when he returned my snuggly hug and hid his nose in my hairdo. Firm and warm and beautiful under me, he didn't say a word as his chest rose and fell against mine, and I felt the faintest kisses on my hair and neck. I couldn't believe what a gorgeous man I got to call my boyfriend.

I would've felt cold from the air in the room had he not been so thoroughly wrapped around me.

"It's not a big deal," I said, sinking further into him. "We needed them a few years ago."

"I know."

"But—I'm here if you want to talk or vent or whatever. Okay?"

I could not decipher his expression when Edward eventually pulled back his head to see my face. He touched his forehead against mine, brushing his nose against mine, side-to-side, playful but… so, so vulnerable.

"You're incredible," he whispered against my lips.

A part of me wanted to tease him—like the old me would've done (just like my dad)—about having the best tutor and ask him how in the world he didn't get bored of me, genius that he was, but the part that had been around Edward's patience and kindness was learning that maybe some situations should've been guarded from teasing, however well-meaning.

"I'm the luckiest girl in the world." I replied, softly.

Edward scoffed, but the hint of a smile in the corner of his lips made me feel relieved. Our lips met, but so did our tired, hooded eyes, and suddenly this felt like the end of the longest day in the universe. I could not believe it was only this afternoon that I'd disappeared in the mall, and Edward seemed to have the same thoughts as he grinned against my neck, breathing hard.

"We should sleep," he said, voice vibrating through me, but I'd barely opened my mouth when the screen door squeaked.

Edward stiffened, assessing me with alert eyes as the key turned in the main door.

"Fuck."

…