Disclaimer: I don't own the characters! But the plot is my own!
Chapter 11
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After last night, my mind had been reeling. I got home with a couple of hours to spare before Jacob dropped Seth back off, but sleep barely came. My thoughts kept looping back to Edward—his voice, his words. Then in the same thought Sage's words would break through my fog. I kept hoping this wasn't just some fucked-up fling, that I wasn't setting myself up for heartbreak.
Morning came too fast, and despite the exhaustion weighing on me, I dragged myself out of bed to make Seth some breakfast. It wasn't much—just eggs and toast—but when I set the plate down in front of him, I immediately noticed the way he was staring off, deep in thought.
I leaned against the table, watching him. "What's up?"
He didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed distant for a moment before he finally sighed, shrugging. "It's just one of those days."
I chewed on my bottom lip, debating if I should push or let it go. "Wanna talk about it?"
His lips pressed together, his fingers idly picking at the crust of his toast. I gave him the time to answer, waiting him out, but after a long pause, he just shook his head.
I exhaled softly, nodding. "Alright. Well, just so you know, you've got an appointment tomorrow morning. I'll be dropping you off at school late."
Seth tutted, rolling his eyes. "He's not gonna try to convince me to get on Prozac again, is he?"
I gave him a look. "No, I already sorted that out last time. Besides, even if you did take the meds, you'd have to do therapy too. They don't just hand out a prescription and say, 'Congrats, you're cured!'"
His expression didn't change much, but I could tell the conversation weighed on him.
I reached across the table, nudging his arm lightly. "Look, I know you don't love these appointments, but you gotta give yourself a shot, Seth. You've been through a lot."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "We have. I know."
I let the silence settle for a moment before switching gears. "So, Jacob told me you were whooping his ass at Xbox all night."
That earned me a small smirk. "Oh, absolutely. It wasn't even close."
I grinned. "Good. Keep his ego in check."
His smirk lingered, and I felt a little of the tension ease from the room.
Getting up from the table to head back upstairs to go back to sleep, I patted his shoulder as I passed. Once at the stairs I heard his say, "Do you think mom did what she did because of me?" he asked gently.
I froze mid-step, my hand gripping the banister as his words settled over me like a heavy dumbbell.
Slowly, I turned back around, my heart squeezing at the way he was staring down at his plate, his fingers absently picking at the toast. His voice had been so quiet, like he was afraid of the answer. Like he'd been carrying that question for a long time.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and walked back over, pulling out my chair and sitting beside him again. "Seth," I said gently, waiting until he looked at me. "No. Not even for a second."
His brows pulled together, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "You don't know that," he murmured. "She was so tired all the time. I kept thinking if I'd just—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I don't know. Been better? Needed her less? Maybe she would've—"
"No." I cut him off firmly, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. "Listen to me. Mom was sick, Seth. Not in a way that had anything to do with you or me. Depression—real depression—doesn't work like that. It's not about how much someone loves you, or how much they have, or what they could've done differently. It's an illness. And sometimes…" My voice wavered, but I pushed through. "Sometimes, it wins."
His grip tightened slightly around my fingers. "It just feels like maybe if I'd done something…"
"You're basically still a kid, Seth," I reminded him softly. "It wasn't our job to save her."
He was quiet for a long moment, staring down at our hands before exhaling through his nose. "It just sucks."
"Yeah," I agreed, squeezing his hand before finally letting go. "It really fucking does."
We were stuck in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the light buzzing from the fridge. Eventually, he picked up his fork again, taking a small bite of his eggs.
I took that as my cue to stand, brushing a hand over his hair as I passed.
"If you ever need to talk about it," I said over my shoulder, pausing at the stairs, "I'm here. Always."
He didn't say anything right away, but just before I disappeared upstairs, I heard him mumble, "Thanks, Leah."
Later that day, I was cleaning the house, skipping the cellar as usual. The broom swished across the floor, the mop following soon after, while I tried to keep my mind from wandering too much. But every time I glanced at my phone, I couldn't help the little flutter in my stomach.
Edward had sent a simple *Good morning, beautiful* text earlier, and I'd been blushing like a damn fool ever since. A couple more messages followed—casual but warm—making me anticipate our date more than I wanted to admit. I told myself I wasn't overthinking what Sage had said last night, but the echo of her words still lingered.
By the time Seth got home from school, the house smelled like crispy fried fish and baked fries. I wiped my hands on a dish towel as he walked in, gripping the strap of his bag.
"Hey," he nodded at me.
"Hey," I responded, turning over a piece of fish.
"Smells good."
"Does Jake want a plate to go?" I asked, realizing this was becoming a routine. Not that I totally minded.
"He's coming in. He was checking out the railing by the side door," Seth explained, dropping his bag by the table as he ran upstairs. "Gonna shower!" He shouted down.
Before I could think too much, Jacob's heavy boots stomped against the hardwood, announcing his arrival.
"Oh, please tell me there's enough for me?" he asked dramatically, sniffing the air like a damn bloodhound.
I rolled my eyes, flipping another piece of fish. "You don't even ask anymore—you just assume."
"Because I know you'd never let me starve," he shot back with a cocky grin, moving to peek over my shoulder. "Damn, this looks good."
"Of course it does." I smirked, nudging him away with my elbow. "Back up and let me finish."
Jacob leaned against the counter, watching me work. "So," he started, far too casually. "You hear from lover boy today?"
I stiffened slightly but kept my attention on the food. "Why?"
"No reason." His smirk widened. "Just wondering if he's still… interested."
I set down the tongs and placed my hands on my hips. "What is your problem?"
Jacob lifted his hands in mock innocence. "No problem. Just making sure he's not, you know… some rich prick looking for a fun little distraction."
I scoffed, irritation rising. "He's interested in getting to know me."
Jacob raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. "Oh yeah? And what exactly does *getting to know you* mean to a guy like that?"
I turned back to the stove, exhaling sharply. "It means *exactly* what it sounds like."
He chuckled, pushing off the counter. "Alright, alright. No need to get all flustered, Clearwater."
I shot him a glare. "Take your damn plate and get out before I dump hot grease on you."
Jacob just laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed a plate. "Relax. You're glowing. It's cute."
I muttered under my breath, before I dished out their plates, already regretting letting Jacob through the door. I placed Seth's plate in the microwave.
Jacob scoffed, "Getting to know you, huh? That what he told you?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, Jacob. Believe it or not, some men actually find me interesting beyond just pissing me off."
He smirked. "Oh, I believe it. I just also believe he's got a motive. Rich guys don't do charity work."
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Jesus, Jacob. Not everyone operates on whatever messed-up rulebook you live by."
"Right, because rich men are known for their pure intentions," he shot back. "What's next? He's gonna adopt a puppy and pay off your mortgage?"
I gave him a flat look. "You're jealous."
Jacob scoffed. "Jealous? Of what? A guy who probably has a framed oil painting of himself in his mansion?"
"First of all, that would be hilarious. Second, maybe if you weren't so busy acting like a human guard dog, you'd get some attention of your own," I explained, my annoyance made clear.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head. Grumbling about wishing a sugar mama would just miraculously fall onto his lap. Then he said, "You're ridiculous."
"And you're exhausting," I shot back before my expression softened slightly hearing the shower upstairs running.
"Has Seth mentioned our parents to you at all?"
Jacob hesitated, his usual sharpness dulling. He scratched the back of his neck. "Not much. Why? He supposed to?"
I shrugged, my playful-ish edge dimming. "I don't know. Just wondering if he's talked about it with anyone."
Jacob studied me for a second before sighing. "You know he's not great at that kind of thing."
"Yeah," I murmured. "Neither am I."
Jacob nodded, turning on his heels to head out the front door. I could hear Kujo barking in his truck. "Guess that's something you two have in common. That, and the ability to make my life difficult."
..
The next morning came too quickly, leaving me feeling like I hadn't slept nearly enough. By the time I climbed back in through my window from my early morning smoke, Seth was already awake, rummaging through his room, probably trying to gather his backpack and homework.
The appointment was at 8 AM, so I made a quick stop for breakfast and coffee on the way. By the time we pulled into the parking lot, I was still munching on a donut, crumbs falling onto my lap.
Seth let out a loud, drawn-out burp.
I sighed, popping the rest of the donut into my mouth and chewing lazily. "Really?"
He just grinned, rolling up his now-empty sausage, egg, and cheese wrapper.
Inside, we sat in the waiting room, shifting uncomfortably in our seats. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale coffee, the quiet tap of the receptionist's keyboard filling the silence. The minutes stretched, each one longer than the last, until finally, they called Seth's name. I went in with him as a precautionary measure each time. Since I am technically his guardian.
At some point, I stepped out to let him talk alone. Then he left the room, and I was called back in—because, of course, Dr. Foreman had his latest theories on what would help Seth. This was our developing routine.
He was a decent guy, maybe a little pretentious at times, but he'd been our family doctor for over a decade. I trusted him, even if he had a habit lately of phrasing things in ways that made me feel like I was failing somehow.
"How's his eating?" he asked, clicking his pen as he leaned back, one ankle settled on his knee.
I let out a breathy huff that was meant to be a laugh. "He's actually been doing really great, besides, y'know."
Dr. Foreman gave a small nod, tapping his pen against his notepad. "He mentioned your friend Jacob, said he's been mentoring him. Sounded excited about his senior project. He also told me he's finished his shadowing hours."
I nodded, though Seth calling Jacob my friend was a stretch. "Yeah, he's passing everything except English, but that should be changing soon."
"Is he still having trouble sleeping?" He tapped his pen again, his eyes scanning me like he was assessing more than just Seth's well-being.
I rubbed my neck. "He's doing better. No drinking, no smoking." I hesitated, thinking back to yesterday morning. "But he did talk about our mom recently."
Dr. Foreman hummed, waiting for me to continue.
"He asked if it was his fault."
He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze steady. "Do you think it's time he sat with someone? To talk?"
I exhaled slowly, pressing my lips together.
"It's been almost three months, Leah."
My heart pounded in my ears, the anxiety rising so fast it almost pulled me under. For a brief second, I couldn't hear anything else. I glanced sharply over my shoulder, like I could escape the weight of the conversation by looking away.
"I know," I murmured, my voice tight.
Dr. Foreman leaned forward slightly, his tone measured but insistent. "Do you—perhaps—want to sit with someone too? Besides me? Someone who could really help you both? Offer the tools to rebuild that foundation?"
I swallowed hard. We always ended up here, circling back to the same question every time I brought Seth in. And every time, I wasn't sure how to answer.
Dr. Foreman exhaled, his expression kind but firm. "You can say no, Leah. That's your choice. But I need you to hear me out, because in my heart, I know this would benefit both of you. Think of how well Seth has been doing—but also think about why. Right now, he's leaning heavily on Jacob, and while that support is important, it can't be everything. Seth has to learn to manage his emotions on his own, in the real world, without a constant safety net. Otherwise, what happens when Jacob isn't there? When life doesn't hand him that kind of comfort?"
He let the question hang for a moment before continuing. "Seth is young, but he's not always going to have someone to shield him from the weight of his emotions. If he doesn't learn how to process them now—without relying on a specific person to keep him grounded—he's going to struggle later. That's where therapy can help. Not just as a crutch, but as a way to truly equip him with the tools he needs to handle things, even when the people he leans on aren't around."
I bit my lip, staring at the floor. I knew he was right. Deep down, I knew. But that didn't make it any easier.
I chose to still think on it a bit, but I figured Seth could benefit greatly from it. I just wanted to talk with him about it first, for real this time, privately.
We'd left the doctors office quietly. I dropped him off at school and he seemed okay. Not upset or anything. He did ask if Jacob would still be picking him up tomorrow morning. I nodded.
Early Thursday morning we did get the chance to chat for a bit about the prospect of Seth going to therapy before Jake got there. The comments Seth had made about thinking maybe this was somehow his fault. That had me worried. He reluctantly agreed as long as Jacob could drive him. To my annoyance.
Jacob eventually stopped by to pick up Seth for school, pausing in the doorway as he looked me over. Commenting that he couldn't get Kujo up from his sleep to come.
Before he'd came in I was just busying myself. Thinking.
I was still able to save on top of what I had left from the first auction. After covering all the house expenses—insurance, unpaid taxes, mortgage—I was left with far less than I'd started with, making me more cautious about every dollar I spent. Especially since I was still working strictly with cash. At least my direct deposit hit every Friday, so it wasn't too bad.
Thank God I'd paid off my truck a long time ago. I couldn't handle taking on another expense on top of the daily cost of just getting by.
"Still need me to come by and stay with Seth tomorrow night?" He asked, waiting by the doorway.
"Yeah," I sighed, finishing up the dishes I'd started before he strolled in.
He clicked his tongue. "Damn. Thought for sure he'd come to his senses."
Something about the way he said it crawled right under my skin.
I shoved a plate onto the dish rack with a little too much force, water splashing onto the counter. My gaze flicked over to him, sharp. "Do you always have to be like that?"
Jacob leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that insufferable smirk still plastered on his face. "Like what?"
I turned fully to face him, arms folding across my chest. "A prick."
He let out a low chuckle. "Relax, Clearwater, I'm joking. Damn, hit a tender spot, didn't I?"
"You're just naturally irritating," I shot back, grabbing a towel to wipe up the water I'd spilled. "Like a rash that won't go away."
Jacob grinned. "That's funny. Almost as funny as you thinking this dude is gonna stick around."
I narrowed my eyes. "And there it is. The signature Jacob Black pessimism mixed with some passive aggressiveness. You should bottle it—sell it as a repellent for happiness."
Before he could fire back, Seth finally appeared at the top of the stairs, his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Are you two seriously arguing this early?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he trudged down.
Jacob straightened, smirking. "Just some friendly bonding."
"Yeah, well, save it for later. I don't need to hear you guys bicker before school," Seth muttered, adjusting the straps of his bag. "Let's go."
Jacob shot me a wink before heading for the door. "See you tomorrow night, Clearwater. Try not to miss me too much."
"Trust me, I won't," I called after him, rolling my eyes as Seth strode over to me to offer a hug, then he followed him out.
I dragged my nails through my scalp, letting out a heavy sigh. The buzz of my phone pulled me from my thoughts, and of course, it was Edward.
E: Morning beautiful. Counting the minutes...
A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. His message was a reminder that I needed to start preparing for our date tomorrow. That thought alone had me wincing—I'd make sure to subject myself to another painfully thorough bikini wax in anticipation after I'd ate breakfast.
An hour after that I asked Angela if she wasn't busy and met her at a little clothing store near the edge of town. It was a small shop, smelling of freshly pressed fabric, the kind of place that always felt a little too neat. She showed up with an iced coffee for me, and I had a blunt already rolled for us. We stood at the side of the building near our parked cars, passing it between us, catching up while traffic hummed lazily in the background.
She told me about finally getting her Toyota taken care of—replacing the alternator, getting it running again. I tried to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting to Edward, nerves prickling at the thought of our date tomorrow night.
Angela flicked ash off the tip of the blunt, exhaling smoke. "So where have you been?" she asked, passing it back. "I feel like I only see you on the weekends at work."
I smirked, bending down to pick up my coffee for a sip. "You're seeing me right now."
She scoffed. "You know what I mean, Leah."
"Nah, everything's been good. I told you on the phone," I said, taking a slow inhale before pausing. "And," I held it in for a beat, "I went on a date last week."
Her eyes widened. "Holy shit, you've been holding out on me."
I coughed, sputtering smoke as she poked me playfully.
"Who's the lucky dude?" she pressed. Then her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Oh my god, is it Jacob?"
I grimaced, shoving the blunt back at her. "Absolutely not."
She laughed. "Damn, that was fast. Okay, so who is it?"
I hesitated, then shrugged. "His name's Edward. He's… nice. Handsome. Respectable." I carefully avoided mentioning how rich he was.
Angela raised an eyebrow. "Nice? Respectable? That's very… proper of you."
I rolled my eyes. "He is. And he's really—" I hesitated, searching for the right word. "Easy to be around."
She nodded, exhaling slowly. "That's good, Leah. Really good." Then, after a beat, her voice softened. "But… is it too soon?"
I looked away, staring at the hazy afternoon sky. "Seth's been great. Technically."
Angela gave me a knowing look. "Technically?"
I shrugged. "I mean, we both need to move forward. He needs to see me doing okay just as much as I need to be okay." Even as I said it, my mind drifted to Dr. Foreman. How he kept nudging me toward therapy. Toward talking about things. But I wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Angela watched me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. If you're happy, that's what matters."
We finished smoking, grabbed our coffees, and headed inside the shop. It was cute—cozy, but with an edge. Racks of elegant dresses lined one side, while another was dedicated to go-go dancers and strippers. Angela snorted, running her fingers over the sequined outfits. "Bit of everything here, huh?"
I sifted through a rack of dresses until my fingers landed on a white and purple number—slim-fitting, with delicate straps and an open back, the hem cutting off at my thigh.
Angela's eyes lit up as I held it up. "Wait… is that why we're here? You're picking something for your date?"
I smirked. "Yeah."
She grinned. "Leah, that dress is gorgeous. You look beautiful."
I bit my lip, staring at the dress.
"You want heels?" The Hispanic attendant asked from the other side of the changing room.
"We need 'em, stat!" Angela responded with a boisterous laugh.
I turned to see the vague outline of my panties. I sighed, "I probably shouldn't wear undies."
Angela let out a big laugh. "Not if you want to get laid."
That thought had my nerves brimming into the next morning and afternoon. I checked a message Edward has shot over to me early in the morning before Seth had left for school.
E: Can't wait to see you, pick you up around 6ish?
Me: Sounds good.
I'd taken two showers before five o' clock came around. The second time was because I had chopped onions and garlic and couldn't get the smell off my hands for the life of me. I'd been working on a comforting pot roast for dinner. Feeding the masses, and figuring I'd keep a small container for myself in the fridge, in case I get home tonight and am hungry.
The knock at the door came just as I was tossing the last bit of seasoning into the pot. I glanced at the clock—Jacob was right on time for once. Seth, who had been bouncing around with excitement since he got home from school, already had his overnight bag packed and sitting by the door.
"Can we at least wait until the stew is ready?" Seth asked, glancing between me and the pot.
I sighed, wiping my hands on a dish towel. "It needs a few more minutes, but sure."
Jacob stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on the stove. He inhaled deeply, a look of genuine appreciation crossing his face. "Damn. That smells good."
"Yeah, yeah, don't make it weird," I muttered, already moving toward the stairs. "I'll be back in a sec."
"You're running away from a compliment?" he called after me, his tone full of amusement.
I ignored him, heading up to my room. My dress—a silky white and purple number—clung just right, but I still felt like a mess. My hair was still wrapped in a towel, my bare feet were cold against the hardwood floor, and I could smell onions and garlic more than anything remotely sexy. I grabbed my perfume, spritzing a little behind my ears before rushing back downstairs.
I barely made it back to the kitchen before I was off again, grabbing a sponge to wipe down the counter, straightening up the dining table, checking on the stew.
Jacob leaned against the counter, watching me with an infuriating smirk. "You good?"
"I'm fine," I snapped, stirring the pot a little too aggressively.
"Uh-huh." He crossed his arms. "You know, for someone who's supposedly fine, you're buzzing around like a maniac. Are you that frantic over this date?"
I glared at him. "Not that it's any of your business, but I like looking nice. Maybe I just enjoy taking care of myself."
Jacob hummed, unconvinced. "Right. Totally not acting like a woman with something to prove."
"Do you want food or not?" I shot back, ladling stew into a to-go container with a little more force than necessary.
He grinned. "Touchy."
I grabbed two plates and dished up portions for both Seth and Jacob, adding some white rice on the side. Jacob took his container, giving it an appreciative sniff.
"Alright, take your leave, good sir," I said pointedly, wrapping Seth in a quick hug. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"
Seth nodded, but Jacob, of course, had to get one last jab in. "Try not to spend the whole night pacing the house like an anxious wreck."
I turned to him with a murderous glare. "I will make you cry, dude."
His smirk widened. "Looking forward to it."
And with that, he and Seth were out the door, leaving me muttering curses under my breath.
I put the rest of the food away before heading straight to the bathroom, finally unwrapping my hair. Natural was the way to go—there wasn't enough time for anything extravagant. Throughout the evening, I'd gotten texts from both Damien and Angela, each wishing me luck. Damien, of course, had to remind me of our little talk from Monday night.
Gagging.
Got it.
I snatched up my strappy white heels, tying them securely around my shins. As I did, the sound of a car pulling up outside sent my heart racing.
I darted back to the bathroom, spritzing myself with body spray again, double-checking my pits, my teeth. My curls needed a little fluffing, so I ruffled them up before swiping on a final coat of gloss.
My heels clacked against the floor as I made my way to the front door, clutch in hand. I checked for my phone and wallet one last time before stepping outside, shutting the door behind me just as Edward climbed out of his car.
His eyes met mine mid-step, his expression shifting instantly. His lips parted slightly before he bit down on the bottom one, his gaze dragging over me in a slow, deliberate sweep.
"You look gorgeous," he murmured, his voice low, deep. "I expected nothing less." His hands went into his black pants, his white short sleeve dress shirt unbuttoned slightly. His muscles bulging.
A slow heat crept up my neck, but I played it cool. "We gonna eat first?"
His brow arched. "Did you still want me to eat you up first?"
Every nerve in my body lit up. I tilted my head, lips curling into a smirk. "I figured we'd work toward that tonight—see how long you can last."
His eyes darkened slightly, intrigued. "Without touching me," I clarified with a grin, holding up my hands in a playful surrender.
Edward exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's not gonna last long," he admitted with a chuckle.
"Have a little optimism," I teased, bouncing on my heels.
His gaze dragged over me again, slower this time, like he was drinking me in. Then, he let out a deep, suffering groan. "It's been a week since I've seen you," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "You come out looking like this, and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?"
A thrill shot up my spine, but I only grinned wider. This was going to be fun.
As I reached the bottom of the steps, he extended his hand, and I slid mine into his. Instead of leading me straight to the passenger door, though, he veered toward the trunk of his Lexus.
Just as I was about to question him, he glanced over with a huge grin. "I got something for ya'," he said softly.
My stomach flipped. "Oh yeah?"
"I figured this would be right up your alley," he chuckled, popping open the trunk to reveal a whole basket loaded with enough milligrams of edibles to put someone in a coma, plus an absurd number of eighths scattered across the front. The entire basket must've run his a pretty penny.
"Holy fuck," I breathed, eyes widening.
He smirked. "Do you like it?" Then, with mock seriousness, he added, "I mean, I could always just turn it for a profit—"
I smacked his chest before he could finish, offering him a playful grimace. "You're the worst."
My hands instinctively covered my mouth and nose, still shocked that he'd actually done this.
"I'm seeing that this is perfect," he said, grinning.
I giggled, shaking my head. "You figured out my favorite flowers."
"You don't have to do that," I added softly.
He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "I like taking care of you."
It should've been sweet. It should've felt sweet. But Sage's words echoed in my mind, sharper now, clearer. He likes projects.
My stomach clenched. Is that all I am too?
He must have noticed my sudden shift because his hand found mine, his thumb rubbing slow, soft circles against my skin. His touch was warm, grounding.
"Everything alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.
I hesitated, drawing in a breath before really looking at him. He met my gaze with those beautiful, steady eyes, and in them, I found no deception—just quiet sincerity.
And yet, the doubt still lingered, just beneath the surface. And worst part was, the more I over thought, the more I kept watching Edward for any signs of deception.
The issue? He's calm, consistent, and unreadable, which only makes me wonder more.
We got into his car, with of course him opening the passenger side for me. Waiting till I settled in the seat, putting my seatbelt on as he shut the door. Sliding into the drivers side.
He looked over at me, stoically. "Ready?"
I nodded at him, trying at my best smirk.
His head tilted to the side. "You seem, nervous?"
I shrugged, playing with my fingers on my lap. "Not really."
Thankfully, he didn't push as he pulled onto the road, the hum of the engine settled between us, the low vibrations of the car filling the comfortable silence. The city lights flickered in the distance, a soft glow against the deepening blue of the sky. I kept my gaze out the window, watching the scenery blur by, trying to focus on anything other than the unease curling in my stomach.
Sage's words still clung to me, wrapping around my ribs like a vice. He likes projects. It was stupid to let that get to me, but I couldn't shake it. Still, as much as I wanted to keep my guard up, it was hard when Edward was sitting next to me, effortlessly in control, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the console between us. He didn't press, didn't push—just let me sit in my own thoughts until I was ready to talk.
His hand suddenly slid over my thigh, a warm, grounding touch that sent an involuntary shiver up my spine. "You're quiet," he murmured, his voice smooth and easy. "Getting cold feet?"
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "About what, exactly?"
He glanced over, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Our date."
I rolled my eyes, but the way he said it made something hot coil in my stomach. "Not at all. Should I be?"
He hummed, tapping his fingers idly against the steering wheel. "Nope."
I narrowed my eyes. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going to eat?"
"Nope."
I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. "Fantastic. If we get there and it's, like, an underground poker ring buffet, I'm out."
Edward let out a low chuckle. "I'll have to change my plans, then."
I grinned, shifting slightly in my seat. "As long as I don't end up as the buy-in, we're good."
"No one's putting you up as collateral, Leah." His tone was amused, but rough, there was an edge of something else there, something protective.
I smirked, dragging a finger along the seam of my seat. "At least I'd go for a high price."
Edward groaned, tilting his head back slightly. "You're going to make me crash the car."
I let out a small laugh, finally feeling some of my earlier tension ease. "Alright, alright. But seriously, whatever this is, it better not get us arrested. We still have weed in the trunk, you know."
His smirk deepened. "Only if we get pulled over."
I lifted a brow. "Oh, only if we get pulled over. Right. No big deal."
He shot me a look, his eyes dark with amusement. "You worried, sweetheart?"
I huffed, shaking my head. "Not worried. Just pointing that out for someone who always seems so put together, you now have a bad habit of carrying highly illegal substances in your car."
His fingers trailed absently over my thigh again, featherlight, like he wasn't even thinking about it. "You're acting like we have bricks of cocaine back there. Relax."
"Still a crime," I muttered.
Edward chuckled. "Not if we don't get caught."
I sighed dramatically. "God, I hate when rich people say shit like that." As if I had any reference.
His smirk widened. "Then stop making me feel like a criminal. I'm trying to figure out what you like, make a good impression."
I rolled my eyes, but the way he said it—low, teasing—sent a thrill through me. I turned toward him, arms still crossed, trying not to let him see just how much he was getting to me. "You think you're making a good impression?"
He glanced over, his gaze trailing lazily down my legs before flicking back up to meet mine. "I know I am."
And just like that, my stomach did a whole damn flip.
Fuck my mind couldn't focus.
We'd pulled into a parking lot eventually. In front of a big building, with Winery & Steakhouse somewhere on the big sign above the entrance.
The restaurant was the kind of place I'd only ever seen in mafia movies—the kind that whispered wealth instead of flaunting it. Dim amber lighting, dark wood paneling, and leather booths so pristine they looked untouched. The quiet murmur of conversation and the distant clink of silverware filled the space, but in our little corner, it was just me and Edward.
I tried not to fidget as the waiter set down the wines—each bottle covered in a fitted burlap bag to keep things a mystery. A blind tasting, Edward had said, like that was something normal people did for fun.
He dismissed the waiter with a nod before turning his attention back to me, a little smirk playing at his lips. "Let's see what kind of palate you have."
I took the glass he handed me, swirling it like I had a damn clue what I was doing. The second it hit my tongue, I regretted every decision that had led me to this moment. It was bitter—sharp in a way that felt like licking the inside of an old coffee pot. I barely managed to swallow, my face twisting in disgust.
Edward had just taken a sip of his own when he caught sight of me. He made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh, covering his mouth like that might save him from spitting out the wine.
"Jesus, Leah," he wheezed, shaking his head. "You looked like you just drank straight vinegar."
"That was awful." I grabbed my water, gulping it down like I'd just been poisoned. "Is it supposed to taste like that?"
He was still grinning, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip. "It's dry. Not bad, just not your style."
"Not my style?" I arched a brow. "It tasted like regret."
He laughed again, deep and genuine, and for a second, my nerves quieted.
The waiter reappeared with our food, and suddenly, everything felt a little more manageable. My steak was thick, perfectly seared, with a pat of garlic-herb butter melting into the grooves. Edward's had a side of truffle mashed potatoes that looked like silk. Between us sat a dish of roasted asparagus, crisp and glistening in olive oil.
I focused on my plate, on the familiar comfort of food, but my mind wouldn't quite settle. I hadn't told him about Sage. I hadn't told him about what she'd said. And now? With the wine, the dim lighting, the intimacy of this whole thing—I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Edward poured the next wine, watching me as he did. "You ready to redeem yourself?"
I exhaled, picking up my knife and fork. "If this one tastes like battery acid, I'm throwing in the towel."
"We'll take it easy," he promised. "Let's see if we can find something that doesn't make you look personally offended."
I smirked despite myself, but my thoughts still swirled in the background. You really think you're different? You're just another project. Something broken he can fix.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "Guess I better not get too attached."
It was a joke. Sort of. But instead of reassuring me, Edward just smirked, like I'd said something amusing instead of something that was currently making my stomach sink.
I felt the spiral start before I could stop it.
See? He didn't say no. He didn't tell you you're different. Maybe Sage was right. Maybe you're just something new. Something to keep him entertained until he gets bored.
The walls of the restaurant felt closer all of a sudden, the warmth of the candlelight too heavy on my skin. I swallowed hard, trying to ground myself, but it must have shown on my face because Edward's expression shifted.
"Was the wine that bad?" he asked, only half-teasing.
I shot him an unsteady glance, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
His smirk faded. "Leah," His voice was quieter now, more certain. "What's wrong?"
I took a breath. "I ran into Sage the other night."
His gaze sharpened, his posture straightening. His expression flickered quick. "Is this why you've been acting funny?" his tone made my thighs clench. "What'd she say?"
I hesitated, but there was no point in holding it in now. "She told me you used to ask for her. A lot. That you kept paying, even when you didn't have to." I forced myself to meet his eyes. "She said men like you don't marry girls like us. That you don't—" My throat tightened. "That you don't keep us."
Edward exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening like he was holding something back. When he finally spoke, it wasn't to argue, or to soothe me with empty reassurances.
"Well, shit, Leah," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't find anyone interesting enough to figure out their government name and where they work."
I blinked, the statement catching me off guard.
"I never cared to know them beyond what they were willing to sell," he continued, his voice steady, like he was simply stating a fact. "But you? You walked in and made me want more before I even knew why."
My stomach twisted, not with doubt this time, but with something heavier—something real.
He set his glass down with a quiet clink, leaning in slightly. "You think I've ever chased someone the way I chased you?" His voice dropped, sharp and genuine. "Sage was a habit. A waste of time. You're the first person who ever made me fucking care."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening in a way I couldn't explain.
Edward didn't push, didn't plead. He didn't give me some rehearsed line to make me feel better. He just was. And somehow, that made everything fall into place.
The dinner carried on slowly, the initial tension I'd felt slowly dissolving into light, effortless banter. Sage's words were now a fading shadow in the back of my mind. The way Edward looked at me, spoke to me—it made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered. The only thing worth his time. He made me feel seen in a way I'd never felt before.
I'd spent so much of my life as the tomboy, the one no one took seriously, the one everyone teased. But this? This was something else.
"Ready for some jazz?" Edward hummed, excitement creeping into his voice as he chewed on his last piece of steak, dabbing at his mouth with the cloth napkin.
I smirked, feeling the warmth of a real smile spreading on my face. "Is it gonna be a small venue?"
"Oh but what would it be if it weren't," He winked, setting his napkin down with a flourish.
With the final course finished, the bill came, and Edward handled it with ease, leaving a generous tip as he signed the check. I felt the burn of the wine still in my chest, its warmth settling in a way that made me a little bolder than usual.
Before we left, I downed four quick gulps of the wine still at the table. My nerves were buzzing with anticipation.
The thought of getting Edward to kiss me—to let something more happen—had my mind racing. The alcohol helped dull the edge of the uncertainty, but I could still feel the excitement bubbling underneath.
We got up from the table, and Edward held the door open for me, offering a warm, casual smile that seemed to hint at something more. I followed him out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting my face as we made our way to his Lexus. He opened my door for me, a small but thoughtful gesture, and we climbed in. The drive to the jazz club was short, but my heart was already pounding in anticipation.
Edward's Lexus glided smoothly through the quiet streets, pulling into a hidden alleyway that looked like it belonged in a different time. At first, the sight of the dimly lit, narrow alley made me feel uneasy. It looked like something straight out of a noir film—dark, deserted, a place where things could go wrong in an instant.
But Edward didn't hesitate. He parked and stepped out, giving me a reassuring glance. I followed him up to a small, inconspicuous door at the back of the alley. The door was weathered and old, like it had been there for decades.
As we reached the door, a small eye window slid open, revealing a pair of dark, hazel eyes that stared back at us for a moment.
Edward leaned in and said something low, a word I couldn't catch, but the moment it left his lips, the door clicked, and the eyes disappeared.
Without a word, the door creaked open, and we stepped inside.
The moment we entered, the heat of the room hit me—a welcome contrast to the cool air outside. The space was crowded, dimly lit, and the air was thick with the hum of conversation and the soulful sounds of a live jazz band playing in the corner. The music was rich, vibrant, and filled the room in waves, the beats pounding through my feet as I felt the rhythm in my bones.
There was an electric energy here, one that made everything feel a little more alive, a little more dangerous. The room was filled with people laughing, talking, dancing—a secret world I didn't know existed.
Edward's hand brushed against mine as we made our way through the crowd, and I could feel the tension building between us. He flashed a devil-may-care smile at a couple of the people we passed, the kind of smile that only made him more attractive.
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "I think you're going to love this place."
As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely, and the flirting became a game we both played. His attention never strayed far from me, and I could feel the heat between us building with every laugh, every touch, every lingering glance.
It was only a matter of time before Edward finally broke.
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the heat of the room or the intensity of everything, we had been dancing around for so long.
The music wrapped around us, the slow, sultry jazz drawing us deeper into the moment. The room hummed with the rhythm of bodies pressed together in time with the beat, faces blurred in the low lighting, their movements a mix of desire and abandon. But it was Edward who consumed my attention, his presence magnetic, pulling me in as we moved in sync.
The space between us seemed to disappear, the air heavy with the heat of the room, his breath brushing against the nape of my neck. His laughter was a soft, intimate sound that vibrated through me, and I couldn't help but grin. I leaned back just enough to feel the heat of him, feeling the pull between us intensify.
Then, without a word, I turned. My back met his chest, and the air seemed to shift. The playful tension of moments before suddenly deepened. My movements became instinctive, my body responding to his in ways I couldn't fully comprehend. I rolled my hips, feeling the heat of his body behind me, his hands tightening around my waist in response. His chuckle was low, the sound sending a ripple through me as the space between us shrank even more.
For a while, we danced like that—teasing, playing, close enough to feel the magnetic pull, but never enough. The beat throbbed beneath our feet, but it was the heat of his hands on my skin, the way his touch made my pulse quicken, that had my focus entirely on him.
Just as I felt the urge to look up, to close the last bit of distance between us, I slowly turned back around. Our eyes locked—dark, intense. The music felt far away now, the world around us faded as we swayed in the dim light. Moving towards a dark smokey corner of the club.
His hands found their place on my waist, steady and sure, as one slid up to caress my cheek. The gentle touch of his thumb across my skin made my breath catch, his gaze unwavering as he pulled me closer, guiding me to look straight into his eyes.
The music swirled around us, only separating long enough to glide towards a smokey corner of the club.
And then, without a single word, he leaned in. The moment our lips met, time seemed to stop. It wasn't rushed or frantic; it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring each moment. His kiss was warm, drawing me in, his breath mingling with mine, his pulse steady against my lips.
At first, it was gentle, just a taste—a slow, teasing exploration that made my heart race. As he deepened the kiss, pulling me closer, his hands wrapped around me, one gripping my back, the other at my face, holding me in place. Every movement was an invitation, each breath drawing me further into him. I couldn't help but respond, my hands finding his shoulders, anchoring myself to him as the world melted away..
The kiss was slow and intense, every second stretching on, filling the space between us with heat. His lips molded to mine with such intention, such raw need, that it felt like I was losing myself in him. He didn't rush. He didn't try to force anything. It was all about the connection, the raw pull between us, until we were breathless, gasping, but unwilling to pull away.
My tongue swept across his bottom lip. Edward parted his lips, granting me access to his mouth. He moaned into me as our tongues met, his hands firming as he pulled me flush against him. He tasted me like he was hungry.
Finally, when the kiss broke, my body stayed close to his, still feeling the echo of the kiss on my lips, in my chest. Edward's eyes were locked on mine, his breath shallow, his chest rising and falling. We stood there for a long moment, lost in each other, not needing to say a word. We steadily began to move lightly to the music, smiling like fools at each other.
Edward turned me around again, his hands finding my waist, his grip tightening with every movement. The heat between us flared once more. He groaned softly as I pressed back against him, his body responding to mine, unable to ignore the tension building between us.
I took the opportunity to glance around the packed club from our little corner. Bodies pressed together in certain areas, it looked like there was a couple against the wall, doing more than grinding.
"You really are a troublemaker," he muttered against my ear, his voice rough, low, filled with restraint that only made the tension between us sharper.
The unmistakable hardness of him pressed against my lower back, sending a pulse of heat straight through me. My dress shifted with every movement, the fabric riding up slightly as I leaned into him. He noticed—of course he did—and the way his grip tightened on my waist told me just how much he was holding back.
I turned my head just enough to catch his gaze, the heat between us electric. His hand slid up, cupping my jaw, his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles across my skin. Our lips hovered a breath apart, the anticipation curling tight in my stomach.
I let my breath fan against his cheek, my lips grazing along his jaw. His body tensed at the contact, a quiet hiss escaping him.
"I can feel it," I murmured, my voice smooth, teasing. "How much you want me right now."
His fingers dug into my waist, his restraint wavering. "I'm trying to behave," he ground out, his breath uneven.
I leaned in closer, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. "How long are you planning to behave yourself?"
He exhaled a shaky laugh, his grin both playful and dangerous. "You already know."
My pulse pounded as I lifted an eyebrow, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them. "Is that restraint… or are you just waiting for me to say the word?"
The energy between us crackled, the dim lights and the sweltering heat of the packed club amplifying everything. Sweat mingled where our bodies pressed together, the solid evidence of his desire impossible to ignore. My palms tingled as I reached up, tracing my fingers along his jaw.
His eyes darkened, a mischievous glint flashing as his grin deepened. He didn't hesitate.
He captured my lips in a searing, desperate kiss, his grip tightening as if he couldn't hold back any longer. The kiss stole my breath, left me lightheaded, consumed.
"Absolutely," he rasped against my mouth, his voice thick, raw with need. "I want to bend you over right here, in this packed club—make sure you never forget this."
A shiver ran through me at his words, at the sheer intensity behind them.
"Do it," I whimpered, pressing my body closer to his, feeling the way his hands roamed, gripping, claiming.
His fingers trailed up, brushing over my breasts before squeezing just enough to make me gasp. The music thrummed around us, but all I could focus on was the heat of his touch, the way he moved with me, against me.
"You look so beautiful," he whispered against my ear, his breath scorching. "And you're all mine."
I hummed at the words. "You want to fuck me right here?" I gasped, closing my eyes as his muscles flexed around me.
I felt him nod, his grip tightening as he pressed himself against me. "You're dead serious?"
My dress began to ride up even more as I continued dancing against his erection.
"Oh fuck," he muttered, his lips brushing against my neck. "I don't have a rubber."
I moaned aloud. But, this place was so packed, so loud, so smokey, we really couldn't go wrong with this scenario. And it made me feel invigorated. Edward chuckled at my moan, his hands sliding up my thighs and under my dress.
It didn't even matter to me at this point. He could always pull out, try to be stealthy in some way. I do the shot for birth control to regulate my periods, so it didn't bother me in the least. He'd read through my paperwork, thoroughly, I'm sure from that auctioned date, he knows this. If it bothered him to do this bare, now that'd be a different story. Up to him, either way, I'm ready.
"I dare you," I said loudly above the music.
"Raw?" he questioned near my ear.
I nodded, calling out between something like a moan and a giggle.
"Leah, you're not exactly being quiet," he teased, his fingers tracing the skin of my inner thigh. "I love it, knowing that anyone could hear if they paid attention."
I turned my face slightly to see Edward's eyes widened in surprise as he discovered I hadn't been wearing any panties. He let out a low groan, his fingers immediately finding my wetness.
"You're so naughty," he said, his voice thick with lust as my head rested against his chest. "Walking around without any underwear, just waiting for me to take you."
"No panty lines," I say to him with a breathless giggle.
He smirked down at me, his fingers sliding through my slick folds. "That's the only reason, huh?" he teased, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing slow circles around it. "You just didn't want any panty lines?"
Another moan racked through my body. Edward took advantage, his lips finding my neck and sucking a dark mark onto my skin. He continued to work my clit, his other hand moving to grasp my breast.
"You are so responsive," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "I love how easy it is to make you moan."
I was having a hard time keeping up, feeling a release approaching as I groaned, low and hot. I swear he could feel it to. He increased the pressure on my clit, wanting to push me over the edge.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough. "Cum for me, show me how much you love this."
As I turned my face toward him his lips found mine. Edward swallowed my moans, his tongue tangling with mine in a heated kiss. I began to tremble against him as I neared my climax, and he couldn't help but smirk into the kiss.
"Such a good girl," he murmured against my lips. "Cum on my fingers."
My head tilted back as I gasped. "Fuck, I'm-I," I quivered, breath hitching as I completely flooded. Edward groaned as he felt my release, his fingers still moving against me to prolong the sensations. He watched me intently, his eyes dark with desire.
He lifted my dress more, exposing me to the air and the potential eyes of anyone who cared to look back here.
"You're going to have to be quiet," he warned, his hands on my hips as he positioned and worked himself behind me. "Can you do that for me?"
I was already shaking my head no, I couldn't help myself. Edward chuckled at my honesty, his hand coming up to cover my mouth as he lined himself up with my entrance.
"I thought so," he said, teasing. "You're so loud. Guess I'll have to keep you quiet myself."
He thrust into me in one swift motion, burying himself deep inside of me. I gasped, clutching him from behind. My chest rumbling with a guttural groan ripping through my body as I got used to his thick mass. I felt him slap my ass, hard.
I moaned against his hand, his palm pressed firmly to my lips. He gave my ass another hard slap, enjoying the way it jiggled under his touch.
"Shh," he hissed in my ear. "Be good, take it quietly."
He began to move his hips, snapping against me in a fast, rough rhythm. The music from the club was loud enough to drown out most of the noise, but Edward could still hear my muffled whimpers and moans.
I looked back at him, feeling close again. His eyes locked onto mine as he continued to pound into me. He could see it written all over my face, and it only fueled his desire.
"You're so close again, aren't you?" he asked, his hot breath against my neck. "I can feel you clenching around me. You're gonna cum again, and I'm not going to stop until I'm finished."
I vocally felt as though I got louder. His hand still encapsulated my mouth. I stuck my tongue out, he responded by sticking his index finger into my mouth. Trying to occupy my mind until I exploded again.
Edward let out a low growl, shivering as he watched me suck and lick his finger. He was getting close as well, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. A violent release hit my body in four to five different waves. Juices spilling from my pussy. Soaking his cock and the front of his slacks. I heard him groan loudly, completely lost in the moment, his own orgasm hitting like a freight train.
"Fuck, baby we're making a mess," he grunted, emptying himself onto my ass. He snatched a napkin off the closest tall table near us. He wiped me up tenderly.
"Keep going," I moaned, reaching behind to guide him back into me.
He was taken aback by my request, but he didn't seem one too quick to deny me. His grip went back to me firmer on my hips and he started thrusting again, slower this time.
"You want more?" he asked, his rough voice laced with a tinge of surprise. "Even after all that?"
I leaned against him, my hand slipping up like a hook around the back of his strong neck.
His hand cupped the side of my face, our lips locked in a slow, fevered kiss, his tongue teasing mine as he moved inside me. Every touch, every movement felt intimate—possessive, like he had no intention of letting me go. His other hand slid down, adjusting the front of my dress, a subtle attempt at keeping me somewhat decent, though the heat between us made it hard to care.
The last set ended shortly after, the lingering hum of music fading into the background. I ran to use the restroom. After I got out. We slipped out, but not before Edward flagged down an employee, letting them know the floor was slick from spilled drinks over near where we were. Which caused me to stifle my laughter.
Outside, the city air was thick and warm, wrapping around us as we pushed through the long alleyway, then the bustling sidewalk toward his car.
"Are you okay with coming back to my place? Keeping me company?" he asked, his voice lower now, almost shy despite the lingering flush on his face.
I didn't answer. Instead, I tugged on his hand, pulling him ahead. As soon as we reached his car, I spun around, pressing against the cool metal, and let his lips crash into mine again. The kiss was deep, greedy, his hands gripping my thighs as he lifted me slightly, pinning me against the sleek surface.
"You—" he sighed as we broke apart, his forehead resting against mine, his breath heavy with want. "—are absolutely insatiable." His fingers flexed against my skin, like he was barely restraining himself. "I need to get you somewhere more private—please."
A thrill shot through me at his desperation. My hands tangled into his soft hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.
"Then take me," I whispered, grazing my lips against his jaw before nipping at his bottom lip.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening as if he was barely holding himself together. My heels clacked against the pavement once he let me down.
"Fuck," he muttered, yanking open the door. "Get in before I take you right here."
I smirked, slipping inside the sleek interior without another word, My body buzzing from the anticipation.
...
..
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