Chapter 42

Slow hands
Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry
No, no chance
That I'm leaving here without you on me
I, I know
Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin'
Slow hands —Slow Hands, Niall Horan

Bella

Harry's medical appointment in Seattle freed up the Clearwater house for us to hangout in for the day.

I had trouble getting into the paranormal flick we rented because Jasper and Leah were making so much noise in the kitchen. They couldn't seem to do anything together without goofing off, and they were making a homemade pizza for us. They finally quieted down, and I became absorbed in one of the eerie scenes, feeling creeped out as I watched on, holding an accent pillow against my chest. Scary music was playing in the background as the woman on the television inched toward the closet. Just as she was about to yank the door open, a high piercing beep bore into my ears.

I jumped in my seat before smelling the smoke.

Seth leaped up from beside me, racing for the alarm while Jasper hollered, "The pizza's burned!"

"How in the hell did you do that?" Emmett asked. He was in the reclined position on the lazy boy, but turning his head back toward the kitchen. "You were standing right there!"

Jasper and Leah broke with laughter, then Jasper said, "So what. We'll make another one."

Pulling the battery from the alarm, Seth told Leah to open the kitchen window and the back door to the garage, to let the smell out. After rewinding the movie back to the part we missed, he took the pillow from me, stretching out on the couch and laying his head on my lap.

The recliner squeaked, thudding into its upright position. "That's it," Emmett said. "I'm going home. I can't be a fifth wheel around here. No offense to anybody, and I'm good with all this, but it's just not the same anymore."

Seth sat up. "What's not the same?"

"This family," Emmett said, spanning his arms out, one toward us and the other toward the kitchen. He wasn't mad when he left; at least, I didn't think so. Two couples must have been just one too many couples for him. A fifth wheel, like he'd said.

Jasper and Leah had come out of the kitchen. "What'd he say?" Jasper asked.

"He said he couldn't hang out with us because we're not the same family," Seth said.

"He's full of shit!" Jasper stalked outside, carrying the burned pizza to the garbage.

"He's such a drama queen sometimes," Leah said, fanning smoke out with a hand towel.

As we restarted the movie again, Jasper announced he forgot to haul some boxes of old Christmas junk from the attic to the outside shed, telling us he needed to get it done before mom got home.

"Need some help?" Seth asked.

"No, Leah's gonna help. Just stay here and wait for us until we get back. I'll bring Emmett's truck, pick you two up, and we'll go eat at the Dairy Queen instead."

By now, everyone caught on that I wouldn't ride in Jacob's car.

After they left, Seth said, "They wanted to ditch us."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, something about the way Jazz told us to stay here until they came back. Twice." He turned off the TV with the remote, stood up, and extended his hand. "Come on."

As many times as I'd been in Seth's room, somehow it appeared different this time. Things I'd seen before, but never really looked at, interested me. I lifted the picture, leaned up against one of his boxing trophies and smiled at the cute little boy, grinning inside the ring, a missing tooth and all, as he held up a medal, strung on a red, white, and blue ribbon.

"That was my first exhibition fight when I was eight."

I placed the photo back. Then I compared the tiny face in the picture to the face staring back at me, while slipping my shoes off at the foot of the bed the way he did, wishing he looked like more like himself.

He asked, "What?"

I scooted myself over to him on the bed. "I miss your hair."

He nearly lifted me on top of him, and as our mouths met, he said, "It grows back, you know."

The more we continued doing what we were doing, the more we continued doing, and it got to where neither of us could find enough exposed skin for satisfaction. When my fingers felt beneath his shirt for the flesh of his back, moving to his arms and chest, he tugged out of his shirt, and returning his lips to mine, grabbed for the hem of my blouse, lifting it up, but only enough for our stomachs to touch.

"Is this going too fast?" he asked.

All the times we spent, alone, together ran through my mind, and considering how we went to the movies several times, ate out, took walks, and just sat behind my house talking, ever since that very first dance, I shook my head. "No, because if you think about it, Seth, we've practically been going out for two years now."

Smiling, he nudged my blouse the rest of the way up, resting his chest against mine and running his hands all over me while I explored his upper body the same. This progressed to him helping me out of my blouse next.

I realized then he wasn't behaving like someone who didn't know what he was doing. Was I the only virgin left in our entire group?

As he slid his hand under the fabric of my bra, fingers caressing the sensitive skin of my breast, I fell into a haze of bliss but somehow asked, "What if they come back?"

"They wo-n't." His reply sounded forced, like it took an effort for him to even speak. Pressing his face into the crook of my neck and shoulder, he breathed in deeply, tasting the skin of my neck and collarbone, creeping toward my chest, his hand fumbling at the back of my bra.

"How do you know?"

"Beecauuse." The throatiness of his voice, part moan and part plea, sent an upsurge of heat through my thighs and pelvis. I flung my leg over his hip and drew him into me with my calf and heel, eager to feel him with the part of my body that hungered to feel him, and a sound of pleasure slipped from my lips. He pressed himself into me firmly, quenching some of the yearning and asked, "Are you ready? Er, do you want to?"

My eyes looked over his face, absorbing his stare. "Yes."

The questions said he'd thought I'd done this before, and I decided not to correct him for fear it would ruin the moment. Straightening up to his knees, face flushed, he reached for the pillows smashed up against the headboard, and lobbed them, one by one, into the narrow space between his bed and the wall, telling me that the door didn't lock.

"What kind of door doesn't lock?"

"A broken one."

We moved down to the carpet. More secluded, it felt safer with the bed blocking us from the door. We continued making out and discovering one another's bodies with our mouths and hands, working our way free of our pants. We weren't all the way out of them when Seth shot to his knees at the sound of a vehicle rumbling outside the window. "Holy shit!"

The horn honked.

Tugging up my jeans and underwear in one motion, and jerking upright, I fastened my bra, panicking when I couldn't spot my blouse anywhere. "Oh, my god, where is it?"

I lifted the pillows to see under them, but it wasn't there, and Seth swept his arm under the bed, yanking up the bed skirt to actually look when he came out empty-handed.

The horn honked again.

Unable to find it anywhere, my eyes hit the closet across the room, on the opposite side of the bed; it seemed too far away. Getting caught behind Seth's locked door would have been telling enough, but getting caught this way horrified me. "Where's yours?" I asked, as he hurried to zip his pants.

The horn honked once more before the vehicle door slammed.

He glanced down at his bare chest, then scanned the area with his eyes. "Probably with yours."

The front door opened, and Leah said, "You guys ready?"

I'd have laughed if this was happening to someone else because the situation was ridiculous. But it wasn't. It was happening to me.

Still kneeling, Seth's arm shot out, and he scooped both pairs of shoes under the bed. He reached around me for the pillows, tossed them on top of it, and dove on me, squeezing us up against the side of the bedframe. I wiggled my way beneath it as much as I could when I realized I could squeeze under there. He couldn't, so he held me tight by the waist with his arm, to balance his sideway position.

Footsteps pattered.

It sounded like she hollered for us into the garage first, and more footsteps followed that, pattering down the hall. The door echoed with light knocking. "Seth, Bella, you in there?" she asked with hesitance, and receiving no response, the knob turned. The door squeaked open.

We held paralyzed like wax figures, staring into each other's eyes as we listened to Jasper enter the house.

"They're gone." She left Seth's room without closing the door.

"You heard me tell them to wait for us."

It sounded like they checked her room and their parent's room and their parent's bathroom, which was on the other side of the wall from his. "What the fuck?" Seth whispered.

"Yeah, like we'd be hiding from them somewhere in the house." I pursed my lips to stop my chuckle.

Standing in the hallway, they talked about where we might have gone. Jasper's assumption was that we got tired of waiting for them, so we walked to the Dairy Queen. He suggested they go find us.

I hoped they did, because if they didn't, we'd have to come out eventually.

Squinting at something, Seth removed his arm from me, and snatched both of our shirts from underneath the lower shelf of his nightstand, placing the scrunched articles on my chest as he got back into position.

"I told you we were taking too long," Leah said in distress. "Do you think they went to your house and found out you lied about the boxes, and we left a long time ago?"

"They left a long time ago," I mouthed at Seth.

He grinned, his body shaking as he held in his laughter, mouthing, "I know."

"So what if we went for a drive to be alone. Who cares?" Jasper said.

"I do. I don't want them to think anything of it, since we were gone for so long."

Hiding under Seth's bed, half naked, I understood how she felt, but Jasper was right. Who cared if they went for a drive to be alone? I wondered if she felt awkward with the change in their relationship or something. She was such a private person.

"If it'll make you feel better, we'll stop over at my house and check. If they're there, we'll tell them we ate already, so they'll think that's where we were. If they didn't stop at the house, we'll make something else up when we find them."

As soon as the front door banged closed, I climbed out and checked the time on Seth's alarm clock, then said, "No wonder why. It's been two hours."

Seth smirked. "That time sure flew." He already had his shirt on and was grabbing our shoes. "If we hurry, we can beat them to the Dairy Queen on my dirt bike. I know a shortcut through some alleys. We'll tell them some lies for once."