- edward pov. -

Shorty, I can see that you got so much energy
The way you twirlin' up them hips 'round and 'round
And there is no reason at all why you can't leave here with me
In the meantime, stay, and let me watch you break it down and

Watching Bella dance was like watching the universe throb and spin. The way her hips twirled, smooth and graceful. Her long, slender arms undulating over her head. Perfect full lips singing in synchronized harmony to every hook and verse. Watching her act comparatively normal for three minutes and twenty-two seconds was worth more to me than bottling the galaxy.

She just looked so fucking happy, no pretending. I wanted this for her all of the time.

I was debating asking her for those two promised minutes when Rose and Emmett excused themselves and I was jerked back into reality like a hook behind my navel. I'd been so engrossed watching Bella I missed their own bedroom eyes. Having never been particularly envious before, the sudden green coloring my vision was uncomfortable. Listening to their thoughts, that didn't last long. It was like watching a long-format porn film play out in real time. It took a considerable amount of willpower to not gag.

The moment they had gone, Bella's blonde friend was sidling up next to me. I had to look down, her being a good half a foot or more shorter, so I couldn't miss the incredibly obvious smolder she was trying to give me.

Sighing, I tried to angle myself away from her slightly, but Jesus she was persistent. When I moved, she did too, closing the distance between us and leaning a head on my arm.

Trying to move farther away again, I found her hands winding their way around my forearm, her fingers walking down my arm toward my hand. What the fuck?

On principle I would have been disinterested for the mere fact she was mortal and I was not, but having it be Bells' friend made her less attractive than actual dirt.

I was just about to ask what she wanted when her face turned a delicate shade of green. "Oooohhh, Kylie doesn't feel gooood.." Ugh. I tried to hone in on her thoughts to see what the problem was so I could maybe help her. Bells' opinion or not, I was still a gentleman.

It was mostly a hazy, warped blur, and entirely too focused on a fantasy of her naked and writhing beneath me, but it still told me everything I needed to know. How the hell had she drank that much so quickly? Her pulse was quick and heavy, sweat beading on her forehead. Never a drinker as a human, I did remember reading something that heat and exertion accelerated the affects of alcohol. Must've been the dancing.

I was still considering whether or not to try and get Bella to come over when Kylie's face blanched, and her mind took on a sickly overtone. Without thinking, I scooped my arms under hers to support the weight and steered us to the bathroom as quickly as I could.

Thankfully most of the people in this place were just as drunk as my ill ward and didn't notice me moving far too rapidly to be considered human. When I got us to the bathroom, a single stall somehow in a place like this, I shoved the line of women aside and thrust Kylie in so she could vomit.

The displeased hissing didn't bother me, especially once I turned around and it immediately shifted into a murmur of appreciation. The way their thoughts contorted into themselves to justify my behavior because I was attractive was just so... distasteful. Like being handsome gave me an excuse to act like an asshole.

Thinking this, my mind was immediately drawn back to Bella. Even if I could hear her thoughts, somehow I doubted she'd be bending over backwards to accommodate me just because I was attractive. The thought made me smile, sending the line of girls swooning and convinced it was one of them I was smiling at.

Kylie finally made a reappearance, looking somewhat better but still fairly sickly. The girl really needed to go home. The extremely vivid erotica in her mind was in full force now that she had expelled the poison, making me want to retch. I thought this kind of thing was against some kind of girl code: your BFF hated me, therefore you hate me too. Or something like that.

My phone out, I was just summoning an Uber when the outrageously loud obscenity that was Kylie's mind suddenly went black. Shit. I moved, far too quick again, and caught her just as she blacked out. Guess her going home alone was out of the question.

I carried her around the side of the dance floor, trying to navigate the thrashing bodies and was almost to the door when she came to. She tried to fake still being out, but even a human would've noticed the very obvious way she moved to snuggle into my chest.

Gently setting her down, she took the opportunity of my face being entirely too close to hers and pressed her lips to mine. My body locked down instinctively, desperate not to hurt her in a frenzy to get her off of me. With as much care as I could manage, I gripped her arms and pried her away from my body.

"God, you look like a fucking snack, and I'm starving. Let's get out of here and maybe you can eat me." The girl's voice was slurred, but steady, pitched at the end with a tittering giggle. A shiver ran down my neck, like I was being watched. I could only assume it was my subconscious protesting her obvious and vulgar come on.

Her smile was as tipsy as she was, sloppy and drunk. Everything about this felt vile and disgusting, but I couldn't just leave her here to pass out again. I rubbed my hands against my face, detesting the very real notion that I would actually have to take her home. Thank God not in the way she wished, though. I was exceptionally glad I was far too strong for her to take advantage of me in that way.

Resolved to take care of someone Bella seemed to care deeply for, I wrapped an arm under hers again and steered us out the door and into the waiting car. Thankfully I had filched her address from her phone when she was in the bathroom.

I blew out a breath, trying not to breathe in the scent of this girl's aggressive lust. Somehow, that was making me more physically ill than the scent of the stale alcohol and vomit.

An hour later, Kylie was safe in bed, passed out and sleeping off the booze, and I was back at the bar. Immediately I spotted Rosalie, Emmett and her other friend, Blythe. Bella was absent, and I couldn't scent her. Had she left?

Picking my way through the sea of women leaping and screaming to a song about single ladies, I gave Emmett a look. I saw in his mind Bella watching something, disgust and hate clear on every plane of her face. Emmett never turned to look at what the thing was, so I had no clue. He shrugged, confirming what I already knew.

I turned to Rosalie, who only shook her head crossly. Which was precisely the treatment I had been expecting from Kylie. Blythe didn't seem to have an opinion either way; the only thing I was picking up from her was Man is the CEO of bad choices. Poor Bells. Clearly I had missed something.

"Where is Bella?" I asked Rosalie when I finally got to the table. The look she shot me was pure ice, laced with fury. I couldn't tell if this was my just desserts for my prior actions or something new. Clearly Rosalie was not going to tell me, but Emmett had to have told her I can read minds. It was the first thing we'd bonded over. Or Bella had to have, to forewarn her.

I stared at her hard, trying to get clued in. Clearly Emmett had told her, because she was reciting the entire Bill of Rights in Latin. I turned again to Emmett, pleading with my eyes: Help me out, bro. He smirked, letting a hand drift down to under the table. Suddenly Rosalie hissed, the scent of her desire surging. Before it washed everything else away, though, I saw it.

Bella, staring across the club at me ushering Kylie to the bathroom. She stopped dancing. Just watched. As I came back into view, carrying her friend. Setting her friend down, fury overwriting curiosity as Kylie pressed her lips to mine. Kylie's mouth moving, and hearing the words. Following us, to watch me get into a car with her friend and drive away.

Whipping my head back to Rosalie, I snarled. "She was fucking wasted. I took her home, put her to bed and came back. You're telling me Bella wouldn't have been more pissed if I'd just let her friend pass the fuck out in the club?"

"It doesn't matter. It just confirmed you're exactly who she thought you were. Manwhore with a superiority complex. Can't say I disagree."

I wanted to scream, tell her I didn't because I was about 1,000 times stronger than a human and would fucking break her and I loved Bella. But I was surrounded by human ears, particularly Blythe who seemed to be blissfully unaware that three of her friends were exceptionally inhuman.

Love. I hadn't meant to think that, but now the idea was put into my mental universe I couldn't deny it. Everything about her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. How difficult and stubborn and dramatic and smart and cutting she was. I loved her, every single thing about her. So wholly I didn't even realize it had happened.

Settling for a hiss, I leaned over the table to get in Rosalie's face. "It matters to me. I'm interested in Bella, no one else. Kylie kissed me, and I would have sooner been burned alive than reciprocate. Where is Bella so I can talk to her."

Rosalie laughed, derisive and mirthless. "Oh, little boy. She doesn't want to see you, doesn't want to talk to you, and definitely is not interested in you."

The stare she leveled on me was pure vindictiveness, daring me to read her mind to find out. I could hear her thoughts, Go ahead and pluck it from my head. Disrespect her. Your fucking head. I do mean that literally.

I debated not taking the bait, wanting to prove that somehow I wasn't who Bella was convinced I was. But I was so fucking pissed Bella just kept assuming things about me and refused to let me explain anything. Just storming off, the cloud perpetually raining on both our parades. Not this time.

Digging my fingers into my hands so I wouldn't smash the table, I let Rosalie's head guide me to my freshly-acknowledged love. Growling, I turned and stalked away. Isabella would hear me out tonight, one way or another. On this count, I was innocent, her perceptions be damned.