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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

31: A Price Tag

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Tuesday, January 31

My heart felt so weightless at his confirmation I couldn't help but laugh. I did not know if Jasper was right about Edward not being able to look away from me but the mere idea of it dipped my heart in sugar.

"How long have you known?" Jasper asked with the dopiest grin on his face.

I glanced at the end of the hallway to make sure Edward wasn't back yet.

"Know is a strong word," I replied, suppressing my own goofy smile. "But I've suspected since Saturday."

Jasper got a glint in his eye.

"What? Why're you looking at me like that?"

Edward reappeared at the end of the hallway. He was stopped by a teacher I wasn't familiar with but his eyes found mine, and I felt hot all over realizing that he did seek me out in a crowd. He crossed his arms, tore his eyes from mine, and I couldn't tell if I felt more giddy or guilty.

"Before he's back," Jasper lowered his voice. "Tell me, if you care so much about not telling him about your giant footballer, why not just cancel the thing?"

I locked eyes with Alice, hesitating.

Jasper scoffed. "Did you promise your parents you'd date him or something?"

"Something like that."

Edward began to walk towards us while Jasper leaned closer, half-whispering, "Hey, I'm not against a little torture when it's warranted but pull your shit together by the next week, hmm? Dude's got enough happening without you adding to the equation."

He flipped into a caring best friend so quickly I almost got whiplash, but I didn't have time to process the change before Edward joined us. I felt near-high in the knowledge that he liked me, he actually liked me. He took his bag from the floor as he bantered with Jasper, and he didn't avoid speaking to me but he definitely kept his hands to himself.

I missed his hands.

He'd spoiled me with his attention. Still in disbelief, my heart thumped so violently in my chest it was hard to believe he couldn't hear it, but he mostly avoided looking at me. When his eyes did flicker to mine, all-too-briefly, his own were full of longing and affection and hurt, and I nearly burst into flames keeping myself from reaching out and taking his hand in mine.

He wore his feeling on his face like nobody's business, and I ached for him.

The rest of the day wasn't any better.

He didn't come around as much, but when he did, he kept his hands in his pockets, giving me half-smiles that didn't reach his eyes. At one point, I brushed my knuckles over his forearm, trying to get his attention to… explain, or talk, or something, but Edward snapped away his arm, accusation in his eyes. Like I'd done something wrong.

I felt like I had.

I wanted nothing more than to tell him Emmett was a nobody—and if Edward had spent any amount of time near my bodyguard, he would've known something was up—but I'd broken my parents' trust last week already and I didn't want to put money on the line for a boy without at least getting their blessing and hearing what Emmett had to say about it. I trusted Edward, I trusted him to keep Emmett's bodyguard status to himself, and I hoped that the knowledge would've made a difference, but I just wanted to tell him the truth and not build another lie on top of this one.

…

Guilt ate me up inside when Emmett came over to have dinner with us (such a date we had). He arrived like a truck, literally and metaphorically (well, not literally, literally…), impetuous and serious as ever. He wore black trousers and a gray button-down.

I didn't not like him but he was a tough guy to warm up to.

Cramped around our tiny round kitchen table, we ate what Alice had affectionately started calling Bambi noodles (bun bo nam bo) since she first had them when she was a kid. My mom's warm beef noodle salad was Alice's first dip into Vietnamese cooking, and she was probably more easily won over by the way she butchered its name than by its contents, but the name stuck in my family.

Still haunted by Edward's expression through the day, I stuck my chopsticks in my dish and turned to Emmett the moment I detected even the slightest pause in the conversation.

"I want to tell Edward you're my bodyguard."

Emmett's head moved sharply, like a tick, clearly in disapproval. He put down his fork and released the topmost button of his shirt. Dark brown eyes met mine. He, too, had had a haircut, as evidenced by the sharp lines near his forehead and temple, leaving maybe half-an-inch of black 4c hair on top of his head. It made him look older.

"Did you or did you not just tell us yesterday that your boy is making his ex-girlfriend's life a living hell?"

My insides melted when he called Edward mine. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"A guy who does that to his ex might start digging dirt on you if you break up in two weeks."

"Why do you think we'd break up in two weeks? I don't even know for sure if he'd want to date me, I just…" I shrugged, not knowing how to end my sentence without sounding like a teenage girl.

"Doesn't matter," Emmett argued. "I don't know him, but there are two issues with you just telling him you have a bodyguard, beyond the obvious 'why on Earth would you need one?' First, he's giving hell to his ex right now, and until you prove that she either broke the law or holds some seriously immoral views, he might just be giving her hell because he's vindictive, because that's what it looks like from the outside."

"Edward is not vindictive," I protected him.

"You don't know that. Whatever is between them could be a matter of opinion, and he might just think he's right. Teenagers make world-class assholes, your boy toy might not be any different here."

I locked eyes with my parents, hoping they'd protect Edward, but both kept chewing and raised their chopsticks when they noticed my gaze. Ugh. Some help they were.

"And second?"

"You said he's smart as a whip. Boy like that, if he is vindictive, could discover and reveal valuable information if he wants to put you in your place after you break up."

"Edward is not like that," I repeated.

Emmett narrowed his eyes at me, studying me.

"First, you find out if his ex does, actually, deserve the hell he's raising, then you have my permission to tell him that I am your security detail. Make up whatever beautiful story catches your fancy, but only after you are sure that your biker isn't just a regular ol' meanie. Capeesh?"

I hated his reasoning. He didn't know Edward like I did, I was positive that Lauren had done or said something nasty to deserve Edward's wrath, but… how was I going to convince Emmett that Edward was different? Wasn't that what every person in every relationship ever, thought?

"Tell Emmett Edward's not like that," I told my parents.

My jaw dropped when both hesitated.

"You! I can't believe you! I thought you liked him."

"Of course we like him," dad said, calm as a button. "He's always kind to you even when he has a lot on his plate. We like him a great deal."

"You like him but not enough to believe the best of him?" I challenged. "And how do you know how much he has on his plate, anyway?" I asked, channeling the irritation in my tone perhaps a bit too well, but I was annoyed that dad would've claimed to like Edward without backing me up on his character.

"Honey, your dad and Edward spent the evening in the garage together," mom said. "They spoke for hours."

My eyes snapped to dad's. "You never told me that!"

"You never asked," dad replied, quietly. "He's lovely, sweetie. But we're not your security detail, and our voice shouldn't hold as much power as Emmett's. It's not an affront to Edward, we're just not trained like Emmett is. We have to trust him, here."

I huffed, crossing my arms, eyeing them. It wasn't fair that I couldn't tell Edward I had a bodyguard just because Emmett didn't trust Edward not to dig up dirt on me on the off-chance that we broke up before shit hit the fan.

"Does it help that I asked Edward to stop making Lauren's life so difficult, and he did?"

Emmett continued eating as he stared at me.

"Not in the slightest," he answered.

"Why?"

"Because he didn't stop on his own. You had to ask him to. So, unless you can find him his next girlfriend and guarantee she's just as considerate as you are when it comes to how he treats the girls he dumps, you have to proceed with caution." He stopped talking as he ate. "I'm not telling you no. I'm telling you, figure out what the hell his ex did, and then you have my green light if his rage is justified. Okay?"

I did not hide my groan, and Emmett, the boulder on a train track that he was, glanced up. "Am I being unreasonable?"

Ugh, stupid security detail with his stupid reasonable arguments. I hated him, but more than that, I hated the fact that if I were him, I might've also not trusted a seventeen-year-old boy who didn't have the best track record regarding his behavior around his exes.

"No," I replied quietly. "But you do know that I could just disregard your advice and tell him anyway?"

"Absolutely," Emmett agreed. "But something made you hesitate, and you did ask for my opinion, so I'm trusting that whatever gut feeling made you hold your tongue today will also help you in making the right decision."

Oh my God, he was a preacher's son. He must've been. Nobody else was so experienced in making you feel like you owed yourself the moral choice to be able to live with yourself.

"What does your father do for a living?"

Emmett let out a sharp breath through his nose, almost like a silent laugh. "He's a soil conservation technician. Why?"

Okay, so maybe I was wrong.

"No reason."

Except I had to consider switching gears with Edward and figure out how to make him talk about his break-up with Lauren. Meanwhile, maybe I could give him the same excuse I gave with Peter, which would've piled a lie on top of my lie but at least would've, hopefully, shown that I was single.

Emmett stared at me before he motioned for dad to pour him more wine. "Did you agree on a plan B hotel for the next three weeks?"

"Hyatt Regency," dad answered, continuing a normal discussion like my heart wasn't at war with myself. "Expensive but they'd have the security level we'd need if it came to that."

"Good."

Jake came to rub his gray fur on our feet, bribing us to slip some meat under the table with his cuteness.

"Also, Mike's renting a three-bedroom apartment in Buckhead and he's up for letting us crash at his place if shit hits the fan."

I could feel my parents gaping at me but I focused on Emmett's business-like questioning instead. "Where in Buckhead?"

"Peachtree Road."

"Floor?"

"22nd, I think."

"Security?"

"You're joking, right? You really think Mike Newton could stay in a building without security?"

"Fair enough." Emmett paused. "And he's okay with all y'all staying there?"

"Yup. Messaged me yesterday." I unlocked my phone and showed Emmett the message, to which he nodded.

"Good. Hopefully we won't need it but the more options, the better."

My parents stared at our conversation like a tennis match. Dad closed his mouth.

"I thought you didn't like him."

"Who, Mike? He's… growing on me."

Mom squeezed my cheek. Her eyes were twinkling. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Oh shut up."

Dad grinned, holding his palm against my cheek and my forehead. "Sweetie, you changed your opinion on someone. Are you coming down with a fever?"

I groaned. "I've changed my mind about people before."

"Yeah? Like who?"

I hadn't, really. Nothing my granny had ever done had made me like her more, I'd never changed my opinion on mom even after she told me she'd lied about her age to my biological father, nor did I find it difficult to accept Alice's promise that she wouldn't give away my (newest) secret. My dad always said I was a bit of a know-it-all with people, trusting the people I trusted (always a bit too much) and never giving a proper chance to the people who'd let me down in the very beginning.

Squirming under my parents' gaze, I swatted away dad's hand and crossed my fingers in front of his face. "Shut up and eat your Bambi noodles, dad."

…

Wednesday brought my birthday month, which I dreaded and anticipated in equal measure. I was full of my plan with Edward, a plan to dig deeper into the reason behind his breakup with Lauren. I did not enjoy having to do this to get a chance to date him (a giddy hope filled me even thinking about it), but of my three choices, it made the most sense.

Even if I hated it.

I could've lied and told him Emmett and I decided to just remain friends (the first option), but that replaced one lie with another and made Emmett weirdly attached to me even if we did agree to stay 'just friends'. I could've outright told him Emmett was my bodyguard (the second option), but if my instincts were wrong, taking a chance like that on Edward could've lost me a surreal pile of money.

Much as I didn't like it, it was my best bet to follow Emmett's advice and press Edward on the issue of Lauren before telling him the truth.

Similar to the last two days, I made Emmett pull over half a block away from school, and we were bantering over our upcoming move to Smyrna (which Emmett refused to suffer through without getting paid extra) when I opened the door.

"Not doing it," he insisted.

"Some boyfriend you are," I teased, slamming the door shut and cutting off his reply, and I was about to make a rude hand gesture when I felt eyes on myself. Frozen in place and looking like I'd struck a dagger through his heart, Edward had just closed the yellow kindergarten fence behind him when our eyes met, and I felt blood drain from my face.

Fuckidy fuckidy fuck fuck.

Not a part of my plan.

Carrying his helmet under his arm, Edward looked tall and lean in light blue jeans and his gray jacket over a navy hoodie. Shadows colored the skin under his eyes. His eyes followed my outfit, especially my red leather skirt, the same one I'd worn for our kiss. I felt shame wash over me.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Edward repeated as he reached me, his voice forced. "I take it your date went well."

I didn't know how to pull myself out of this. Outright denial would've been met with disbelief, not to mention he was too smart to believe Emmett was my friend if they spent any amount of time together. Confirming it would've also been a lie, and telling him the truth, I had to remind myself, could've cost me more than our house.

"Taking Riley to kindergarten today?" I replied instead, avoiding the topic altogether as we began walking toward the school. Emmett drove off.

"Mother of the year didn't pick him up last night," Edward confirmed, his voice bitter (and justifiably so).

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I had the fakest problems in the universe compared to him.

Edward shrugged, and we walked in silence as we crossed the street and joined other students heading to school.

"He's good to you, right?" Edward asked out of the blue, his knuckles brushing mine so gently I could barely feel it, and yet all my nerves were aware of him. His eyes were glued to the schoolhouse in the distance, but he failed to hide the heartbreak in his eyes. It nearly brought me to my knees.

There was nothing I wanted more than to tell him that Emmett was my bodyguard, but if I was going to risk everything and tell him the truth, I wanted to do it in the privacy of our living room, so I whispered a half-assed, "Yeah."

Edward's face twisted but he gave me a pursed-lips smile. "That's good," he forced out, lifting his shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitched. "You should have someone who—appreciates you. I'm, I'm glad he does that."

It took every aching cell in my body not to call my own bullshit.

"Do you think I could've—" Edward started but cut himself off. He rubbed his neck and cleared his throat. "Never mind. I'm just tired."

My heart nearly beat out of my chest.

Do you think I could've been that guy if it weren't for him?

The way his eyes lingered on my face made me feel lighter than a snowflake, but the lead in my heart weighed me down, and I'd be torn open by the rough, hurting edge of his voice if I didn't get to tell him the truth soon.

"Edward?" I brushed the back of my hand against his, getting his attention. "You're still coming to tutor me at six, right?"

"Of course." He gave me a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I counted hours to the evening. Each time I caught Edward's eyes lingering on my face when he thought I wasn't looking made me feel a thousand times worse, and sometimes his face twisted into a careful expression of pretending he was okay, with that half-assed, placating smile I was growing to hate.

I only hoped he'd forgive me for making him suffer through these two days.

…

I was drowning in guilt and nerves when Edward arrived at our doorstep at six PM. I'd sent my parents out on a mandatory date (booked the restaurant online and everything) to make sure I was able to talk to Edward alone. Aiming for low-effort but hopefully cute, I wore the best fitting blue jeans (my mom owned) with a white T-shirt and twisted my hair into a fantastically messy bun, but Edward barely glanced at me when he arrived. Quietly, he took off his shoes, his helmet, and his navy hoodie, revealing his own white T-shirt, and I couldn't take my eyes off of his lean, toned chest as he walked over to the couch and sat cross-legged in front of it.

I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling, but he hadn't noticed I had, once again, accidentally plagiarized his outfit.

Edward lifted his laptop out of his bag and flipped it open. His voice had a rough edge to it. "I made a few quizzes for geometry, so we could start with that."

My stomach was in knots when I took my backpack from my bedroom to the living room. When I returned, I crouched to pet Jake and caught Edward looking at me with eyes so tender it hurt to breathe, but he snapped them away. He had such a sharp, intimidating profile, and I felt near-nauseated to think about interrogating him in this mood but I had to.

I owed him a big, fat apology.

I sat on top of my legs, facing him. Edward glanced at where our knees touched but took out a notebook from his bag.

"Did you have a chance to learn the formulas or do you want to start with that?"

"Edward." I brushed my knuckles over his knee.

"Did you?"

"Edward," I repeated, softly.

I covered his knee with my palm, vying for his attention.

"Don't do that," he warned.

I snapped my hand away like I'd been burnt. "Sorry," I whispered, feeling the weight of his disapproval. "I'm sorry," I repeated, crossing my arms. I swallowed the lump in my throat and scooted away so that I wouldn't touch him.

"Bella…"

His tone was laced with pain and affection and everything I wanted to hear, but I tried not to get sidetracked even if my heart ached from the power he had over me.

"Why'd you break up with Lauren?"

Edward paused, clearly confused. "What?"

"What did she tell you that made you so angry?"

His biceps flexed under his T-shirt as he crossed his own arms and clenched his jaw. His long exhale made his T-shirt flutter.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

He pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, searching my eyes. "Why?"

Because I was about to stake almost a million dollars on a gut feeling if he didn't agree to share this with me.

Leaning my side against the couch and my elbow on top of it, I hesitated, trying to figure out how to tell him without telling him that I needed to know the answer. He'd always said that I unwittingly got him to reveal too much about his life, but this topic seemed to be the exception.

Edward rested his elbow on the couch behind us, mimicking my posture and finally giving me his full attention like he used to. He rubbed his face with a kind of exhausted, frustrated energy. I tapped my fingertips against his knuckles. After two days of talking to the top of my head, his soft, simmering eyes assessed my face with a wild longing that filled my heart. Tension flickered in the air. He shifted closer until his palms gripped my neck and his thumbs snuck into my hair. Amazed, I felt the shock of his nose against the side of mine as he leaned in.

He kissed me.

Gasping, I melted into him, a hurricane of butterflies releasing in my stomach, clutching his warm neck and feeling the tickle of his short, short hair against my fingertips.

Who needs money, anyway?

He tasted better than I remembered, all warmth and fresh spearmint and a fierce longing that made him lift me on top of his thigh. His palms slid under my shirt, pulling me closer, his lips parting and teeth tugging at my lips. A shiver covered me in goosebumps when our tongues touched. His grip was tight and demanding, almost aggressive, and I couldn't press myself close enough. He was dangerous and beautiful and I wanted this forever, his heat and warm breath and muscles that wrapped around me, and the slightest whimper left my lips when his palm clutched at the muscles of my back to pull me closer. I squeezed the skin on the back of his head, tugging at hair that wasn't there, humming against his soft lips, but the sound seemed to wake him up because he jerked back and stared at me in panic. My stomach dropped.

"Fuck."

Panting, Edward snapped his laptop shut and shoved it in his bag. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice full of regret. He ran his palm over his buzz cut. "I didn't mean to—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Edward—" I started, taking hold of his forearm, but he shrugged me off and shook his head, pressing his lips together, desperately keeping his frustration in check.

"I'm not that guy," he said in a half-whisper. "I promise I'm not that guy."

"It's okay—"

"Fuck you, Bella. It's not okay." His eyes blazed. "I don't want to be the meaningless sidepiece to your main thing even if you're okay with it." Edward got up, pulled on his jacket and slipped into his sneakers. His jaw clenched. "I know I don't have much to offer but—" His voice was raw, and his face twisted. "I'll find you another tutor. I'm sorry."

He didn't answer my calls even after I knew he must've made it home. I paced the hallway, haunted by his kiss, regret and words, unwilling to invite Emmett to stay with me when I was alone like I should've. My trust in Edward might've now had a price tag of nearly a million dollars, and I ached thinking how much pain I'd caused him. He might've not even wanted to date me after all I put him through, and the thought of that flipped my heart inside out.

"I'm telling him," I told my parents the moment they'd stepped in the door. Still pacing, I took a breath so deep it hurt, and tried to contain the wild lump in my throat. "So maybe Emmett's right, and I'm putting myself and my NDA at risk. But, but—" I pointed at my parents. "What he didn't realize, and neither did I, was that even with how vicious he was to her he never actually told anyone what the hell Lauren said or did. Nobody knows. So he hates her now, but he's still, in a fucked-up way, protecting her. And—" I could feel my face twisting.

My parents, frozen in their spot, watched my lip wobble, and I swallowed tight.

"And—and—I will never in my life be in a position to date a guy who, for sure, likes me for me. Who knew me before everything. And if whatever decision I make means that I end up losing a lot of money because he's smart and might figure it all out before shit hits the fan and, and, I'm entirely wrong about him, then… I'm okay with that." I took a shaky breath. "I bet thirty-year-old me, even with the risk I'm putting myself in, would be happier to look back and see that I had a few good weeks or months of dating a good guy, even if it doesn't work out, rather than wonder what would've happened if only I'd told him the truth. So I'm not asking for your permission."

I swallowed the tightness in my throat and watched my parents swim in my vision. Dad put his hand on my arm, squeezing.

"Okay," he replied, his voice clear but quiet.

"Okay?" I repeated in disbelief.

"Sweetie, in the end, it's… it's your money on the line, and it doesn't feel right to keep you from dating a boy you like in a time in your life that you will never get back."

"Thank you," I whispered, swallowing back tears.

"Did something happen?" dad asked. He was too dressed up to hug me when I was on the verge of tears but he didn't seem to care.

"He—he kissed me."

"Aw, sweetie."

The world simmered as I blinked back tears. "He kissed me, and—and… ran away. He looked so ashamed, and I—I couldn't explain but he wasn't in a state to listen, and— he, he thinks I'm not serious about him—"

"Do you want us to drive you to his place?"

I took a shaky, sniffly breath. "No. I have to—I want to think about what to say. I'll ask him to come before my work and his school tomorrow. It just kills me that he went home feeling like he did something wrong, or that I cheated, or— I can't imagine how mad he must be at me."

"He sounds like the kind of guy who'd be more mad at himself."

I swallowed. "That's worse."

I hugged my parents for long enough that Jake came to rub himself on our legs to get in on the action. Finally, after several minutes of pretending I wasn't crying, we ended our hug and I gave my parents a wobbly smile. "I'm not telling Emmett. Not before."

"That's okay."

"And if Edward doesn't reply or doesn't come, we'll go to his place, okay?"

"Okay."

I curled up on the couch caressing Jake by my feet, thinking and rethinking what to send to Edward. Mom brought me tea, and I settled on a short, concise message, hoping against all hope that he'd agree.

'Can you come by my place tomorrow morning before school? Before 7?'

I held my breath, watching the tick under my message signify that he'd received and read it. Seconds passed. A minute passed. A knot twisted in my throat when five minutes had passed from the message.

Finally, my phone dinged with a message, and I took a deep, deliberate breath before reading his text.

'OK'

…