A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts!
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.
Please read the A/N at the end for some important story-related news many of you have been anxious for. ;)
Chapter 9 – Birthday Interruptions
Girl, listen to what I'm sayin'
'Cause you don't seem to see
This ain't just me playing
a gig, and every day I'm prayin'
You'll see
Boy, I'm here and I'm hearin'
You think I don't know what you want
But you see what I'm feelin'
I ain't sure that I know what I want
You see
And I'm hopin'
We'll work this out someday soon
Cause I'm fallin', I'm fallin'
Deeper into this with you
I'm fallin' deeper into it with you
Deeper and deeper in it
Fallin' deeper into this with you
Damn I'm so in love with you
"Damn, I'm in Love"
Music and lyrics by Edward Cullen
Composition 2004
Copyright 2005 for Debut Album: No One But You
(*Note: Performed live by Olympia, featuring Bella Swan and Edward Cullen, 2004, 2005; recorded for album release by Edward Cullen; Performed on tour live 2006, featuring Janey Ventura)
OOOOO
September 13, 2004 – Bainbridge Island, Seattle Washington
My twentieth birthday party was in full swing, and as one of my gifts, Edward had composed us a duet – a love ballad, to be exact – which we'd be performing that night. However, he and I were still behind closed doors in my bedroom.
We weren't behind locked doors; Charlie was already operating at full patience capacity, and the music playing in the garage and thumping against the walls, along with the raucous laughter and shrill voices serving as side accompaniments, were pushing him to his breaking point. Once we performed, considering how our current popularity drew loud crowds, Charlie might have to chain himself up like a werewolf on a full moon.
For a moment, I forgot why I was closeted in my room. I actually smiled as I imagined Charlie's struggle not to shut the party down despite it being barely nine p.m. I knew he wouldn't actually bring an early end to my birthday party. Ten years after the infamous incident that defined my adolescence, Charlie still strove to make amends for the past.
In a way, I'd grown accustomed to his need to atone. Occasionally, I might've even exploited it. By then, I'd come to think of Charlie as something like a well-built trampoline. A good trampoline's steel brackets never broke, no matter how often or hard one threw themselves against them. Its mat gave good bounce without losing its spring, and its protective netting remained upright around the entire structure regardless of the abuse received. This was Charlie.
Admittedly, I still avoided thinking too hard about Charlie's point of view in the drama of our lives. If someone had asked me back then, I would've said he brought it all on himself by sleeping with married woman – with my dad's wife.
Still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that if I ever had a really nasty spill, if I ever fell from a mighty height, the trampoline that was Charlie would be there to provide me as cushiony a landing as possible, whether I wanted him to or not.
Nevertheless, there were limits to how far my step-slash-biological father would allow himself to be manipulated, instances where atonement took a back seat. Strangely enough, for someone whose extramarital affair had been outed, he held ridiculously puritanical and, might I add, somewhat hypocritical views regarding my premarital sexing.
While my mom could not care less what I did with my vagina as long as I took care against STDs and pregnancy, Charlie had different ideas. When at my parents' house, I was allowed to shut the door when in my bedroom with Edward, but not lock the door. Moreover, when Edward and I slept over, Charlie, like a man with a canine, reminded Edward that the narrow, tattered couch – a relic of Grandmother Swan's – was where he was to sit and stay for the night.
A grown man, boasting over six feet of height, was supposed to spend the night on an uncomfortable couch while his girlfriend "slept" just a few feet away? Meanwhile, in Seattle, Edward and I spent almost every night together at his place or mine.
So, who was fooling who? Charlie had to know that that had happened months ago and repeatedly. We were, after all, a young couple who were crazy about each other.
Edward's and my first time together was in June, a couple of weeks after we gave into our feelings for one another. Strictly speaking, however, it was neither of our first times. We'd both had two sexual partners before one another – one in high school and one in college. So, though we weren't virgins, neither were we super experienced.
So, on Edward's twenty-second birthday, to be exact, after celebrating with a nice dinner for two by the waterfront, Edward and I ended up in the small basement apartment he rented. Though, calling it an apartment was a stretch. It was a tiny bedroom with barely room for a small desk and a twin-sized bed, where a handful of thrusts led to five full minutes of mortified apologies mixed in with desperate explanations on his part about how he'd dreamed of making love to me for months, maybe thought about it too much. Meanwhile, my attempt to reassure him was admittedly lacking; as any woman who's been deprived of a long-awaited orgasm knows, its disruption can bring one close to tears. Or murder.
Luckily for us both, amid these remorseful five minutes and while we waited for his anatomy to be ready for another round, Edward remembered there were better uses for his mouth and tongue besides apologies and that his long fingers had other talents beyond guitar playing. Therefore, by the time Round Two began – a supremely more satisfying and longer-lasting round – Edward and I had gained valuable insight from the preceding few minutes. I'd been introduced to a new little corner of heaven I hadn't known before, and Edward learned a new hobby that turned his mortified frown into a smug, glistening smile.
Since then, through plenty of practice, we'd gotten deliciously better.
Tonight, Edward was cleared to stay over. Despite Charlie's decrees, there was always a sweet spot in the early hours at my parents' house when the snoring upstairs became audible, and on the inaudible footsteps of a ghost, Edward found his way to my bedroom. I always waited with arms and legs open and ready for his warm weight as he pushed himself inside and melded our bodies and our mouths together. Conversely, I'd throw on a robe and pad silently to the living room, where Edward indeed sat on the couch, emerald eyes aglow and erection straining against his shorts. His extended arms would balance me as I straddled his lap, slipped off my robe, and sank over him. Then, gripping my hips, he'd kiss my exposed skin as our slow grind grew frenzied, and we'd come together over Grandmother Swan's narrow, tattered couch.
Young adults know few fears and fewer boundaries.
That birthday night, however, and at that particular moment, I had other concerns besides breaking Charlie's rules. When I looked up at Edward, I found him gazing at me, his emerald eyes warm and tender. Nestled within his firm embrace, with his long legs tangled like vines around mine, there were few things that could manage to squeeze themselves between us.
Edward rested his glasses on the bedside table, then turned and gently brushed a finger underneath my right eye, where a tear clung to my bottom lash. His other hand skimmed soothingly up and down my back. When the clinging tear fell and I shut my eyes, Edward sucked his teeth and drew me tightly against him.
"Izzy," he breathed.
I should've been inured to it by then. Yet, I couldn't seem to shake it or discuss it. Instead, the hurt grew steadily as time passed, making it increasingly challenging for me to ignore.
OOOOO
'Happy birthday, Izzy. Good to hear you've met a nice guy. I appreciate the invite, but we don't need to meet. Enjoy your 20th, kiddo.'
I'd laughed off Phil's stunted email that morning as I read it off the laptop to Edward.
"How ridiculous is he? 'We don't need a meeting,'" I'd mimicked. "Like it was a business email."
Edward didn't laugh along or crack a joke with me. Instead, he held my gaze, his jaw squared and his lips pressed together as if debating his reply.
"Do you know how many words that was?" I'd chuckled. "Twenty-five. The man who once thought I was his daughter spared me twenty-five words on my twentieth birthday."
"Izzy-"
"Ridiculous," I'd repeated, cutting Edward off before slamming the laptop shut. Then, I pushed away from Edward's small desk.
"Iz, talk to me about-" he tried again, but I made my way to his tiny bathroom.
"There's nothing to talk about. I don't care. I gotta pee."
OOOOO
"I don't know why I'm crying," I growled angrily, swiping the tears from my face.
Edward drew back and tenderly pulled my hand away, knitting our fingers over his chest. His lips skimmed our linked knuckles, then brushed underneath both my eyes.
"You're going to bruise my favorite face in the world." He paused, then added as if he couldn't hold it back, "And you're crying because a part of you still sees Phil as your real dad. So, every time you reach out to him, and he pulls something like this, it tears you up. It makes you angry. It makes you hate your hair. And it keeps you from opening up, to Charlie…and in a way, even to-"
My eyes flashed up to Edward, and even as I snapped at him, I regretted it. But that's what we do, isn't it? At least, that's what I did. I pushed buttons. I tested.
"I hate my hair because it's a fucking bird's nest, and I didn't ask you to analyze me. You're my boyfriend, Edward, not my damn therapist."
His eyes grew wide, and his head snapped back.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I said quickly, drawing his stiff frame closer and burying my face against his warm neck. "I'm sorry, Edward," I breathed.
I felt his frame slacken. Then, his arms wound tightly around me.
"Izzy…" His fingers slipped through my hair and eased my head up, the pads of his fingers stroking. He waited for me to meet his gaze. When I did, I held my breath.
"Please don't curse this gorgeously silky, naturally-grown, organic crown."
Despite my distress, I chuckled and even though I suspected he'd meant to say something else.
"Why do you love my hair so much?"
"Because it's the first thing I noticed about you."
"Really? I thought it was my eyes on the day of the band's tryouts."
Edward shook his head. "I'd already seen you around campus before then. So, I took in a couple of your shows afterward, and…and I hoped we'd meet someday."
Momentarily forgetting my paternal issues, I gazed at him in wonder. "Why didn't you just approach me?"
He shrugged. "My trying out for the band that day was me working up the nerve to approach you. Only then it seemed that, along with getting the gig, I might've shot myself in the foot and lost the girl to the 'No Relationships' clause."
I shook my head. "How did I not know any of this nor ever notice you before-?" I cut myself off. "I mean-"
Edward chuckled, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I know you never noticed me before, and that's okay. As for Phil-"
"Edward, I really don't want to talk about it."
He drew me back in, resting one hand on my hip while the other curled my ringlets around his finger. With a sigh, I resumed my place against his chest, settling in, though I angled my head and watched him through narrowed, wary eyes.
"I only want to say one thing. You're not the type of person who's happy when she's at odds with those she cares about."
I snorted. "Yeah, well. Maybe the solution is to force myself to stop caring."
Silence hung heavily between us.
"Izzy-"
"Never mind, Edward." I shook my head sharply and sat up, wiping away the last of my tears. Then I forced a chuckle. "Never mind. I'm being stupid and dramatic."
Edward sat up, too. "You're not being stupid. I think…I think that for the past few years, you've downplayed the effect that the situation between your parents and its aftermath had on you. And I think it's trying to catch up to you, which is why Phil's typically short yet brusquer than usual email upset you so much."
"I think I just want to stop talking about it."
I shook my head vehemently, shaking out the thoughts I didn't want in there. Then I threw myself at Edward, knocking his back onto the mattress. I lined us up despite our clothing, and when I felt his erection brush up against just that right spot, both our mouths parted on breathy "Ahhs," and I slipped my tongue between his lips.
Edward's hands snaked around my waist, squeezing the swells of my backside and pressing me hard against him. Our bodies instinctively sought friction, and my paternal issues disappeared. Because Edward and I were twenty-two and newly twenty, respectively, and he'd crushed on me even longer than I realized, and because now, I had my tongue down his mouth while frenziedly rubbing my crotch against his groin.
"Fuck, Izzy, you're gonna make me come."
"Good," I gasped, grinding harder. "I like watching you come."
"Jesus," he exhaled. "Char…Charlie's gonna knock on the door any second."
He was right. Charlie vacillated between indulgence in some areas of my life and dogmatic strictness in others – as if he could morph me into the young child he wished he'd raised rather than this young woman who couldn't decide whether she tolerated or hated him. And he was notorious for knocking on my door with invented excuses.
I stopped grinding. Edward's fingers ran up and down my spine, then through my curls.
"I'm fine. It was nothing," I said, interpreting the lingering concern in his eyes.
"It wasn't nothing, love. It's an unresolved conflict, and unresolved conflicts make you-"
I climbed off him, kneeling beside him. "Can we just go and perform the song you wrote for us? Maybe circle back to this later?"
After a sigh, he sat back up, and kissing me softly, he nodded.
Perhaps, had I known of the upcoming monumental event, the unknown woman, the guest of a guest who, unbeknown to us, even then waited in the garage, I would've relented rather than forced Edward to do so.
OOOOO
"Best birthday ever!" I shouted after the band's set, jumping into Edward's arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Laughing, he held me up against him, gazing down at me as if it were his birthday and I were the present.
"Did you like your song?"
"I loved it, Edward!"
He quirked a brow. "You loved the song?"
"Yeah."
He held my gaze, then chuckled. "Let's spend every one of your birthdays like this. I like it more than when you were being mean to me six months ago."
"My half-masochist," I chuckled.
"My half-crazy," he smirked, then buried his face into the crook of my neck. "Love you, Izzy."
He pulled back but held me locked in his arms and in his gaze while my heart thundered.
Another first the night of Edward's twenty-second birthday were those words: "I love you."
Said by him. Not by me. But he hadn't complained, not that night, nor every ensuing time he said them since. And I wasn't sure why I hadn't said them.
"Edward, I…"
Maybe, had I known what the next few minutes had in store for Edward and me, how the night's end would eclipse everything and change everything, I would've rushed to express all my locked-up feelings, especially the ones that eventually affected not just me but us.
"Excuse me, Edward?"
Both Edward and I blinked, startled by the interruption. Together, we turned toward the voice that broke our reverie, though not Edward's physical embrace.
An unfamiliar woman stood beside us.
"Yes?" Edward replied.
I recall marveling – and admittedly feeling no small amount of inner smugness – at how, despite the undeniable beauty of the tall, leather-clad, pin-straight-haired blond, the previous warmth in Edward's voice and the heat in his gaze cooled significantly as he addressed her with not more than mild curiosity.
The woman held out a hand. "Hi, Edward. I'm Heidi Denali."
Edward's eyes followed her outstretched hand before he slowly met it, still holding me up and against him, although now with one arm. Nevertheless, I wriggled out of his hold as they shook hands. Even as he set me down, he didn't surrender my hand.
Ending the handshake, the woman grinned as if watching something naively amusing.
"I'm Liam's cousin," she further explained, jerking a thumb behind her toward the crowd of party guests, where presumably Liam, a friend of Edward's, stood somewhere.
"Okay," Edward nodded.
The woman…Heidi chuckled. "Besides being Liam's cousin, I work for Volturi Records."
Here, Edward's brows admittedly rose high. Everyone knew Volturi was one of, if not the most prominent indie music label out there. I expelled an audible gasp, one that Heidi noted. Her gaze fleetingly flashed to me for the first time since interrupting us before sweeping her eyes back to Edward.
"You have heard of Volturi, haven't you?"
"Of course," Edward said.
When she realized she wouldn't get much more of a reaction from Edward, at least not until he knew more, she expelled a brisk huff. Reaching into her leather skinny jeans' back pocket, she produced a small, rectangular card. As with the handshake, Edward reached for it languidly.
While Edward looked the card over, I leaned in and peeked at it with him.
"Edward, I'll be straight," Heidi continued.
"I'd appreciate that," Edward said.
"I'd love to have you come to our Seattle studio and introduce you to some of our people."
By then, Emmett, Rosalie, and Alice were gathered around us.
"Volturi Records, holy shit," Rose breathed.
"Oh, my God," Alice cried excitedly.
Emmett chuckled and patted Edward's shoulder.
Heidi ignored the comments and the rest of the band. "Edward, your talent is one of those rare finds that a music producer dreams of uncovering—a diamond in the rough if you will." Again, her eyes darted to me, and away so quickly it was almost imperceptible. "I think we'd be able to do great things for one another."
Alice squealed. Rose clapped. Emmett kept chuckling.
I, meanwhile, slid an arm around Edward's waist and grinned up at him.
"Wow," I whispered.
Edward offered me a wary counter-smile. "Yeah, wow," he whispered back.
"Before this goes any further," Heidi cut in, her long, silky strands billowing around her, "I want to make sure there's no misunderstanding. I'm here only for Edward," she stressed, enunciating clearly, "not for the rest of the band. The rest of you are good, but good bands are a dime a dozen in this business. Edward is the one who stands out."
Despite the party, the five of us were suddenly surrounded by a weighty silence. It was broken by Emmett a few seconds later.
"Ouch," he snickered.
"Seriously," Rose snorted.
Alice remained quiet, as did Edward and me. When Heidi spoke again, her sharp eyes panned back to me.
"No offense meant."
"None taken," I replied.
"I'm offended," Alice muttered.
"Either way, I'm not interested," Edward finished. "Not without my band."
I looked back up at him.
Here was the issue:
We'd all known, from the beginning, that what Heidi had just stated was unequivocally true. We were good, but we did not stand out. Edward was the hidden, priceless needle in the haystack.
But Edward didn't meet my eyes. Instead, he kept his gaze on Heidi, his expression stoic, his jaw rigidly locked. He slid an arm around my shoulder.
"So, thanks for coming out, but-"
"Edward, let's talk about this," I whispered.
"Listen to your girlfriend, Edward," Heidi encouraged now. "Don't be hasty."
Emmett leaned into Edward's shoulder and urged the same. "Ed, buddy, this here might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you! Volturi Records! Don't worry about us! We're good!"
"Emmett's right, Edward," Rosalie concurred.
All of a sudden, a rivulet of nausea twisted my stomach, tied it like a knot, then formed a lasso up to my esophagus. Regardless, when Edward looked at me again, with his brow furrowed in indecision, I offered him a slow, careful nod. After all, this was what Edward deserved – his voice and talent out there, not restricted by membership in a B-grade band.
Edward pushed back his glasses. Then he raked a hand through his shaggy, copper-penny mane. They were go-to nervous tics that had become so familiar to me over the past few months.
"Izzy…" Swallowing hard, he shook his head, "The thing is, I don't want to do this without you."
My heart hammered painfully in my chest, and my throbbing temples made me dizzy. The rope of bile tethered to my esophagus twisted tighter and rose to the base of my throat. It all made it hard to speak, but I had to speak because Edward was waiting for my opinion on what was, more than likely, the most important moment in his life.
And so, what was I supposed to say? Don't do it? Give up the opportunity? Deprive yourself and the world of your gift because something about this woman's presence is making my stomach churn? Because I'm suddenly terrified?
Was I supposed to say at that moment that I had the most sickening sensation that one day, I'd look back on the day and realize that the pitifully heartless, sad excuse for a birthday email sent to me that morning by my once-real-dad, the email I thought would forever mar my memories of the all-important day I transitioned from a teenager into twenty-something, was far from the worst development of that day?
Of course not.
Instead, I produced a bright smile, one that spoke of excitement, encouragement, optimism, and anything else that would reassure Edward – and me.
"Edward, I promise you, I'll be there with you every step of the way."
Holding my gaze, Edward drew in a deep breath. When he released it, a tentative smile spread across his face. I squeezed his hand, and when Emmett caught his attention, my eyes jumped away from him and fell on Heidi.
She watched Edward. Like him and me, she smiled as well. But her smile was as different from ours as encouragement and generosity are to provocation and avarice. She smiled at Edward's probable if conditional capitulation with a look that spoke of triumph, a hungry sort of anticipation, and dark dollar signs already cha-chinging in her ears.
And when she blinked and her eyes met mine, her smile grew. It morphed into yet something else. With her brows raised, and her top lip curled, this was now a look that spoke of a woman recognizing a challenge, a woman who'd faced similar hurdles before, and a woman already formulating plans for eliminating those obstacles.
A/N: Thoughts?
I know many of you have been anxiously waiting. Next week, we'll hear from a certain now forty-something ex-rockstar. ;)
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