Chapter 11
BPOV
"Mom!"
Chuckling, I set down my journal and poke my head into the kitchen. There is no telling what's going on in there.
"You bellowed?" I tease. I have to turn my head to the side when Peyton snarls at me, but I can't help laughing. "Excuse me," I say in what I hope is an appropriately serious sounding voice, "what's the matter?"
She huffs and glares. "It's not nice to use words I don't know," she grumbles and I immediately feel bad for teasing her. I can tell she's nervous, though she really shouldn't be.
"I know. I'm sorry." I walk toward where she's staring at what I assume to be a grilled cheese sandwich, but I'm not sure. The thing is mangled beyond recognition.
She throws the spatula down, showing way more anger than I'm used to seeing from her. "Hey," I ask, smoothing down her hair with my hand, "what's all this?"
She turns and her eyes are glassy and the tip of her nose is pink - a sure sign she wants to cry … but won't if she can at all help it.
"I just want it to be perfect for Edward and it looks like crap," she says harshly and I make a mental note to address the 'crap' word in a moment.
"First of all, take a deep breath." I wait as she does what I ask. I can tell she wants to roll her eyes at me, but after the slip from a second ago, she knows she's on thin ice. "Second of all, it's a grilled cheese, not a soufflé, so we'll just try again."
She sighs, the sound shaky and still frustrated. "I can't get it to come out right."
I peek at the knob on the burner and say, "Baby, you have the heat too high, that's all. Come on. Let's try again. We have plenty of time before he gets here."
"Let me do it though, you watch. I want to make dinner," she warns, pointing at me, but she smiles so it seems like the crisis has passed.
She chatters on for a few minutes while she carefully butters each slice of bread, making sure to cover them entirely. She talks about her night with Nana and Pop, and I listen with half of one ear, my mind slipping away to thoughts about my own night.
My heart stutter steps and my stomach turns somersaults when I remember what happened … the way it felt when Edward touched me, kissed me. I know he felt bad about letting things get so out of control standing against the Blazer like that, but there was no way in hell I was going to stop him. I wanted him, in whatever way I could get him.
The feelings I have for him, the ones I try to tell to slow the hell down, go haywire whenever he's around. I feel like a damn teeny bopper at a Justin Bieber concert … nervous, giddy, and excited all at the same time. The man has me reeling, but it doesn't scare me as badly as it probably should.
We're still dancing around each other, in that delicious 'I really like you but I'm not sure if you like me as much' phase and as much as it thrills me, it also keeps me up at night, wondering about all the things we have yet to talk about. We haven't labeled what we are, but it's clear we're more than friends … at least I've never stuck my hand down a friend's pants in a parking lot in front of God and anyone who happened to walk by. From the way he acted, it's not something he's ever done either.
Questions, there are so many unanswered ones. I know he has as many as I do. The way he looks at me sometimes, the things he says, and more often than not, doesn't say, lead me to believe that there is a hell of a lot more to his story than just wanting a new start. He's become … important to both me and Peyton, so I owe it to both of us to find out exactly where things stand and get everything out in the open.
I just hope when it happens, we'll both be strong enough to take it.
"Is this better?" Peyton asks, pulling me into the here and now.
I smile, looking at her carefully constructed sandwich. It's definitely not an ordinary grilled cheese, not for her best friend. We had to raid the refrigerator at The Breakers on the way back from my parents' house so that his sandwich had not one, but three different kinds of cheese on it. She was so adorable when she asked, so focused on making Edward something special, that there was no way I could refuse.
I hope he was serious when he mentioned being happy with just sandwiches, even if they are cheddar, Swiss, and American cheese ones. We also grabbed some potato salad and some cut up fresh fruit while we were deciding what to eat with the grilled cheese. No mint chocolate chip ice cream tonight, but we are having strawberry shortcake instead.
My favorite for a change.
My mind definitely wasn't up to thinking about what to cook, not after the amazing time I had last night … minus the ridiculousness of my best friend. I have to bite back a growl just thinking about how asinine Xavier had acted at the pub. He's been acting like a complete ass for weeks now. Last night was the last straw.
I was awake most of the night, tossing and turning, thinking about him, about Evan … about Edward. I couldn't get my brain to shut off, no matter how long I laid in bed. It's a rare feat for me to be alone in the house and honestly, it took all I had not to ask Edward to stay. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I knew it would be a huge mistake to tempt fate … and each other that way.
Shaking my head to keep my mind from wandering, I bump Peyton's hip, careful not to knock her off the step stool she has to use to be able to see the skillet. "It looks perfect, P. Edward will be so impressed."
Really, she could serve him the mangled mess and I have no doubt he'd eat it with a smile.
She scrunches her nose and wiggles it, then reaches up to scratch it. Crumbs from the sandwiches attach themselves to her nose, making her look utterly adorable and sweet and just … Peyton.
Before she has time to wipe off her face, there's a knock at the door and she's flying off the stool, barely landing on her feet as she races out of the kitchen. I take a deep breath because I really feel like running after her to greet him. I stay where I am though, giving her a few minutes alone with Edward. She wants to make today so special for him, especially because of what happens tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Shuddering, I force myself not to dwell … and to not freak the hell out.
In the morning, Dad is taking the Isabella Marie for its first three day trip of the summer. He wants to try and fish in some warmer water and the area is too far away to go and come back every night. He's not allowed to pull traps up at night, but they can leave them in the water until morning. The lobsters can only stay in the hold for three days so that's as long as they'll be gone.
It's long enough.
I'll be a nervous wreck the entire time they're gone, just like always, but this time it will be even more so because Edward will be out as well. I worry about my dad, Emmett, and Jasper, but they've been doing this a long time now. This will be Edward's first extended stay on the boat and I know my dad; the work will be hard, harder than he's used to even. Not that I think he can't handle it because I'm sure he can. I send up a quick prayer, wishing for good weather. I'll never be able to handle it if a storm rolls in while they're gone.
"Penny for your thoughts."
I shiver as his caramel turtle voice washes over me, halting my runaway thoughts in an instant.
"Hi," I say softly, my voice shaky and breathless. I look at him, his eyes burning into mine and I know that like me, he's reliving every moment from last night in rapid succession.
Fingers, tongues, mouths, feelings, words … a rush of sensation … as my skin tingles and my heart races just from being so close to him.
He reaches for me, tugging lightly on my fingers, brushing a quick, sweet kiss across my cheek. "Hi, yourself. You okay? You looked deep in thought."
"I'm fine." I smile at him, slow and flirty.
"Mmmm, yes you are," he teases back, stepping closer. He amps up the heat with just a few words and a sweep of his eyes from my head all the way down to my toes … then back up again. I swear, his gaze is so hot, so intense, it feels like my clothes are melting right off me.
Not that I'd mind all that much.
I also don't mind the flirting, but today's really important to Peyton, so I reluctantly take a step back, hoping the distance cools things off. He blinks a few times then exhales, his nostrils flaring. "Later," he says, his voice full of promise.
Because the sandwiches are already made, Peyton orders us both to wait while she brings the food. The weather is so perfect that we'd decided to sit outside and she even went so far as to put a plastic tablecloth on the picnic table, complete with flowers from the lilac bush for the centerpiece.
Edward stops and stares. "She did this for me?" he turns to me and asks. Why he seems so surprised I have no idea, but it's clear that it's affected him.
I laugh a bit at his reaction. "Of course she did. When I picked her up this morning, she had a list of things we had to do today before you got here, complete with a handwritten menu. She wanted to do something special for you. For … tomorrow," I whisper the last word, choking back the strangled half sob half groan that's fighting its way to come out.
"Damn, she's just … both of you …" He squeezes his eyes closed and then opens them, his eyes reminding me of the rocks that make up the jetty. Bluish gray, changing colors as the waves wash over them then the sun dries them off.
I reach for his hand, leading him to the table so we can sit and wait for Peyton to bring the food. She wanted to do it all, even the drinks. It's incredibly cute really and so sweet.
Our hands are linked, resting on the bench beneath the table. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes. His body beside me is rigid, his shoulders tense, the muscles of his forearm flexing as he twitches.
"Bella," he says softly, and his voice is gritty, hesitant. He swallows and takes a deep breath then squeezes my hand. I watch him, waiting for him to turn and look at me. He finally does and his eyes are worried, searching as he stares at me. "I …" is all he manages to get out before we hear the back door swing open followed by, "It's time to eat!"
We both laugh, instantly dousing whatever that was just before. Peyton is precariously balancing a tray as she walks toward the table. It tips and plates bobble, the drinks slosh over the side of the plastic cups, but she finally makes it, setting the tray down with a proud flourish.
Edward looks properly impressed and well, it really looks like he can't decide whether to burst out laughing or crying.
"Sprite, it looks delicious," he says earnestly and she beams at his genuine enthusiasm.
"I made it all myself, well, the sandwiches. Mom picked up the other stuff at the restaurant." She grumbles the last part, thoroughly annoyed that she wasn't able to make the entire dinner herself.
He reaches for her, pulling her next to him, not letting go of my hand either. For the briefest of moments it's so easy to imagine the three of us being a family, sharing dinners like this every day, instead of only once a week. It frightens me how much the thought of that makes me happy.
"Well, the main dish is most important and grilled cheese happens to be my very favorite, so thank you, sweetheart."
The pure, unadulterated adoration he expresses turns me into a huge puddle right there beside him. I kind of resemble the cheese oozing from between the slices of toasted, buttery bread.
I sigh, thinking he is … well pretty damn amazing. Untold stories aside, there's no question that things are definitely getting serious between us.
Dinner lasts forever. Peyton keeps up a running commentary on everything from why football is better than baseball to why Neville is the best character in Harry Potter. He looks confused, like he has no idea who or what she's talking about, even when she mentions the movie. Odd. I mean I suppose not all twenty-seven year-old single guys would know who Neville Longbottom is, but everyone on the planet has to have heard of Harry Potter, but no, his face is completely void of any inkling of recognition. Not that Peyton can tell, because she just keeps right on talking away.
When all the food has been demolished, Peyton drags a very stuffed and happy Edward out into the yard to play soccer with her and I take all the dishes into the house. Dinner on paper plates and plastic cups hasn't ever been so enjoyable or so easy to clean up. I watch the two of them through the window over the sink as I wash the bowl from the potato salad, marveling at how much has changed in the span of just a few weeks.
I never expected someone like Edward to suddenly appear, and I sure as hell never imagined having feelings, the ones that keep my panties damp and the butterflies in my stomach in a constant state of excitement. I smile when Peyton's squeal of laughter floats through the window and I look at her, hanging over his shoulder while they run around the lawn. In a million years, I never … ever … imagined there being someone that affects and cares about her the way he does.
Sighing, I tell myself again that Edward and I really need to have a talk … soon.
I grab the plates for dessert just as the two of them come crashing through the back door, breathing heavily and cheeks flushed. A perfect picture if I've ever seen one.
"Who's ready for strawberry shortcake?" I ask and am met with two sets of wide eyes and enthusiastically nodding heads.
I laugh, though I can't help but feel sad knowing the night is almost over. When I turn to bring the plates to the table, Edward is standing in front of me. His eyes sweep over my face and I try to smile at him even though ridiculously, I feel like bursting into tears. He frowns and his eyes immediately change from sea glass green to the storm cloud-colored gray they get when he's worried or troubled.
I've become rather adept at interpreting the ever-changing colors. A good thing because Edward's not exactly a Chatty Cathy.
"What's wrong?"
I shake my head and grin at him, refusing to ruin a great night by acting like an overly emotional girl.
He sighs, breathing out a low, "Bella," but I shake my head again.
"Really, Edward, it's nothing. Come on. I sliced these strawberries all by myself," I tease and it works because he smiles and the dip between his eyebrows goes away.
We're all about two bites into the deliciousness that is the best dessert in the world when Peyton drops her fork with a clatter and exclaims, "Mom, I almost forgot!" and then slides out of her chair and sprints up the stairs, leaving half her shortcake still uneaten.
"What in the world lit a fire under her?" Edward asks, staring at the stairs.
I lay my fork down, setting my napkin beside it. I close my eyes for a second, because I know exactly what she's doing, but I have no idea how he will take it. "She has something to give you," I tell him softly.
"Something else? Bella, she's done so much. I can't accept anything else," he tells me, shaking his head.
I look at him from across the table. I don't want to spoil her surprise but I don't want what she's going to give him to freak him out either. She'll be devastated if he takes it wrong.
"It's something from her treasure box. She wants you to take it with you tomorrow … to keep you safe." I watch his face as my words register. Eyes widen then close. Breath choppy then slows. A hand through his hair and then his eyes open, burning into mine.
He opens his mouth then shuts it and I can hear his leg bouncing beneath the table. He's nervous or agitated … maybe worried … most likely a combination of all three.
"Edward," I begin and my voice shakes. It startles him because immediately he knows what I'm about to say. He shakes his head and gets up quickly from his chair and sits beside me.
"Don't, Bella. Please, just don't okay?" he begs. In the next instant, he turns sideways in his chair and pulls me toward him, pressing my chest against his. His heart is pounding and his arms wrap around me, squeezing me to him. After a moment he rests his forehead against mine, holding my face in his hands and staring at me with turbulent eyes.
"I know we need to talk, but please not until I get back. I have to go in a little bit and this isn't something we can do in just a few minutes. I'll go insane doing this now and then leaving for three days. When I get back, I promise we'll talk." His voice wavers and I know he's barely holding it together. My stomach sinks at the thought of what we need to talk about, and as much as I want to get everything out in the open, I know he's right.
He doesn't need this now. He needs to stay focused on what he has to do on the boat because one wrong move can be deadly.
I know.
"Okay. When you get back, we'll talk," I say softly. My chin quivers and I know I'm seconds away from crying, worry suddenly rearing its ugly head again.
"I don't want to lose you." His voice is full of so much pain and my heart twists in my chest.
Before I can promise him that he won't, we hear Peyton coming down the stairs. She's taking each one at a time, as if to prolong what she's about to do. I don't blame her. If there was a way to keep tomorrow from getting here, I'd do everything within my power to do it. I know I'm being totally irrational but after Evan, after swearing, vowing to myself, that I would never, ever, get involved with anyone that was going to work on a boat of any kind, ever again, to go against that, to say goodbye to Edward knowing where he's going and what he's going to be doing, is torture.
She walks into the dining room, shuffling her feet, like she's afraid to get too close to him. Edward is still as a statue beside me, gripping my hand tightly in his, and his thumb is making anxious, nervous circles over my knuckles.
There isn't a sound in the room except for everyone's breathing. If this was a movie, it'd be a killer scene, the perfect climax, except that this is real. Peyton knows what happened to Evan, just the basics, but she knows enough to make saying goodbye to Edward especially difficult. Like me, she's come to accept the fact that Dad, Emmett, and Jasper go out all the time, but the fact that this time it's Edward, makes all the difference in the world.
"I got something for you," she says quietly when she stands beside him with her hands behind her back.
He swallows, and holds his breath for a second before he exhales. "Okay."
She holds out her hand and a seashell rests in the palm of her hand. "You can keep this in your pocket while you're working with Pop and Uncle Emmett and Jasper on the boat. If you get scared, you can hold it and maybe you won't be scared anymore," she whispers.
When she looks at him, her little chin quivers and two big, fat tear drops fall down over her cheeks. It's all it takes before Edward's off the chair and kneeling on the floor beside her, holding her tiny hands in his large ones.
"Sweetheart, nothing will happen to me, but I might get scared, so thank you for giving me something to help," he tells her as he kisses the side of her head.
He might not know everything that happened to Evan, but it's obvious he's figured out enough not to promise her he'd come back. We really need to talk when he gets back, because at this point, there's really no turning back.
"Pop knows everything about boats and the water," she tells him, looking him straight in the eye. "So he'll take good care of you."
"I'm sure he will," Edward says with a smile. He lets go of her hands and holds his out, admiring the shell. "This is awesome, Peyton, thank you. I'll keep it with me the whole time."
She stares at him for a moment, her gray eyes boring straight into his. "You'll be back on Thursday," she states and waits for him to nod, which she answers with one of her own. "That's almost four days," she says, and taps her finger against her chin while she thinks about something. Her face breaks out into a huge smile and then she looks at him, impishly which makes him look at me in question. I shrug my shoulders, I have no idea what's going on in her brain, but there's no telling with her. "When you get back, do you want to get stomped at Monopoly … again?"
"You got it, Sprite," he tells her.
A moment passes, and then Edward groans, looking at his watch. "I don't want to, but I need to get going," he says quietly as he looks back and forth between me and Peyton.
Peyton squeaks and throws her arms around him, kissing him soundly on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Edward," she says squeezing him tight for a second before she lets go and runs up the stairs.
The tension she leaves in her wake is palpable and neither of us moves as we both stare at the stairs.
"Fuck," Edward mutters in an anguished voice.
"She'll be okay," I tell him, standing up.
"Will she? Will you?" he questions as his eyes search my face when he stands and faces me. "I don't know why this feels like such a big deal, but I know it is. I hate that this is hurting you."
I gasp, stepping closer to him and wrap my arms around him. "It is a big deal, but we'll be fine. You'll be fine. When you get back, we'll talk and then we'll just take things from there."
My voice sounds sure, confident, but inside I'm a quivering mess. He doesn't need to see how badly this is scaring me. Once I tell him about Evan, he'll understand.
"I don't like leaving things like this, Bella. There's so much we have to talk about," he says quietly.
"Things have … changed … Edward," I whisper, staring into his eyes as I try to let him know what I want, that he's what I want.
"Ah, hell," he hisses as he crashes his lips against mine. His hands slide into my hair, fingers press into my scalp. My arms reach up, pressing him in the middle of his back as our bodies align. One of his hands travels down over my back and rests on the top of my ass. We kiss deeply, desperate, speaking to each other without saying a word. Finally, when we have to take a breath, he buries his nose in the crook of my neck.
"I want you, Bella, all of you. I want to know everything about you." He breathes against my neck as his lips trail up and down. "I want to know what causes that far away look on your face. I want to know why storms scare the hell out of you. I want to know why when you go to sleep at night, you wake up screaming. I want to know it all," he says when he lifts his head to stare at me. He runs his fingers over my cheek and then leans forward to kiss my forehead.
"I'm scared," I shakily tell him, pressing my forehead against his chest.
"I am, too. I mean, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, but I'm willing to try if you are. I want you and Peyton in my life. I know we have things to talk about, and we will, when I get back."
I lift my head and nod, and then slowly lead him toward the door.
"Be safe, please," I beg, forcing myself not to cry.
"I'll be fine. It'll be a piece of cake and with my lucky seashell, nothing will happen."
We stare at each other again and then he kisses me once more, a passionate, toe-curling one followed by the sweetest of kisses to my cheek. "I'll be back before you know it and maybe we can go on another date … by ourselves this time, just the two of us."
My stomach flutters and I smile. "I like the sound of that."
"As long as I get to drive Cherry again," he says with a wink. "That thing is a beast, but fun as hell to drive."
"Hmmm, we'll see," I tease, extremely grateful for the respite from the heaviness from before.
"I have to go."
"I'll see you Thursday," I tell him, hanging on to his hand as long as I can as he stretches our arms, before he has to let go. My arm hangs limply beside me and I curl it into a fist and press it into my thigh.
He nods, staring longingly at me before he turns and rushes down the steps and toward his bike. The sound when he turns it on is loud, but I don't move. He waves one final time and then takes off without looking back. I watch until I can't see the red lights on the back of the motorcycle any longer, saying a quick prayer that the next three days pass quickly and he returns safe and sound.
A gentle breeze swirls around my legs in what I hope is a good omen of things to come.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
I groan when my alarm goes off, glaring at the bright red lights. Six thirty in the morning and I've only been asleep for, at best, three hours. I've tossed and turned most of the night, unable to fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was Edward in the middle of the ocean, waves crashing all around him, hear his voice instead of Evan's calling for me, begging me to save him as I tried frantically to reach him in time. The first time I woke up, gasping for breath, clutching at my chest, it took all I had not to call him just so I could hear his voice. When I finally calmed down enough to try to fall asleep again, I awoke the next time, screaming Edward's name. My throat was raw, my cheeks wet with tears, my tank top and shorts twisted around my body like a tourniquet from thrashing around in my sleep so much.
I couldn't stay in bed another moment after that so I got up and fixed myself a cup of hot chocolate, hoping to alleviate the chill that had seeped into my bones. It marginally helped and I finally fell into a restless sleep about three A.M. I was exhausted, having spent the previous night mostly awake as well.
Stumbling out of bed, I make it to the shower without hurting myself. Quite a feat because my eyelids feel like sandpaper and my head is pounding with a ferocious headache. Flipping the knobs of the shower, I undress, not fully awake until I gasp as the first drops of water rain down on me. Sighing, I hang my head under the shower head, letting the water flow through my hair and over my back. The warm water does wonders for my sore, tense muscles and by the time I've washed my hair and taken care of shaving what needs to be shaved, I feel almost human again.
A quick glance at the clock and a spike of worry flares, igniting and flowing through me as I think about Edward heading for the open water of the Atlantic. I quickly tamp it down before it gets out of control. He'll be fine; he has to be.
Once I'm dressed and ready for the day, I head downstairs, glaring as I pass the front door … without unlocking it. I have no idea if Xavier is coming over like he always does, but I damn sure know he's not making it past the front door without an apology. Maybe not even then.
I sigh. I hate fighting with him, mostly because it hardly ever happens, but his behavior the other night pissed me the hell off. It hurt, too.
A lot.
Shaking my head to keep both the anger and the hurt away, I think about what to fix for breakfast. I'm just getting ready to pour the beaten eggs into the skillet for scrambled eggs when I hear the doorknob shake. I set the bowl on the counter and walk toward the front door. The doorknob shakes again as Xavier jiggles it, testing to make sure the door is really locked. I can only imagine what he's thinking. I don't have to wait long because he knocks right after. I can tell he's angry or frustrated or shocked, probably all three because the raps come in quick succession though I can tell he's tried to keep them quiet enough to not wake up Peyton.
He's early this morning. Hopefully that's a sign that he's here to apologize.
It damn well better be.
I flip the lock and fling the door open. I take him by surprise more so by the fire shooting out of my eyes and my angry, defiant stance than the way I opened the door if the look on his face is any indication.
We stare at each other, neither saying a word. My chest tightens when a few seconds go by and he doesn't move. I don't want to argue with him, but I'm not letting him get away with behaving like an overprotective ass either.
His shoulders slump and he hangs his head. I frown, my heart heavy, aching, but press my lips tightly together when he finally looks back up. His eyes are so sad, haunted and I want to throw my arms around him and make it all better, but I can't give in about this. Not about Edward.
"I'm sorry."
The words are spoken so softly that if I wasn't standing right in front of him, I never would've been able to hear them, but the feeling behind the words comes through loud and clear. I lower my arms, but make no attempt to move closer. I wait until I know I can speak without letting my emotions get the best of me.
"For what exactly?" I sound bitchy, but I have to know. Is he sorry for yelling at me? Is he sorry for embarrassing the both of us in the middle of the pub? Is he sorry for the way he's been treating Edward?
Sighing, he scrubs at his face with his hands. He looks terrible. Dark circles under his eyes, skin ashy, two day's worth of stubble mars his usually smooth face … not Xavier-like at all.
He steps forward but I hold my ground, shaking my head. "Answer me, Xav, or you can turn around and I'll drive myself to work."
"Always so damn stubborn," he mutters as he steps back and leans against the post by the front step.
I follow him out, standing on the porch in my bare feet. The morning is cool, but the sun is out. The calm weather loosens the knot in my stomach and I breathe a sigh of relief that at least Edward's first morning on the water shouldn't be too bad.
We face each other again, but thankfully it seems like at least a bit of the tension has eased.
"I'm sorry about everything, Bell. I had no right to yell at you that way the other night."
I wait for him to continue. What he's said is a start, but it's not all I need from him and he knows it because he groans when he sees my face.
He huffs, though I know it's more from the fact that he hates apologizing than anything else. He's always been that way, even in high school. It was like pulling teeth getting him to apologize for anything. It didn't matter if he'd blatantly been wrong, he'd dig his feet in until Seth, Evan, or I would demand an apology from him.
"Fine, I'm sorry acting like a dick to Edward, too. I shouldn't have said what I did about him to you either." His words come out stilted, forced. I know he has a hard time admitting he's wrong so I don't make a comment about how it doesn't really sound like he's sorry. The fact he's said them is all I need.
My body sags at his words, and I plop down on the top step, wrapping my arms around my knees.
"I'm still really mad at you," I tell him, turning my head and resting it on my knees.
He smiles, though it's a sad one, and nods. "I know. I am really sorry, B."
I sigh and give him a slight smile. "I know." I really do, too. He hates fighting as much as I do.
Neither of us say anything until I can't bite my tongue any longer. "Why, Xavier? You don't even know him. You haven't tried to get to know him at all. Seth likes Edward. Mom, Dad, Carlisle, Esme, too. Hell, even Jasper does and Jas doesn't like hardly anyone. Peyton thinks he can walk on water," I tell him, trying to keep my mouth from riling things back up again. "What's your problem with him?"
He frowns and looks at me for a minute, emotions flashing across his face … so fast they barely have time to register before they morph into something else. The pain I see, because it lasts the longest, twists my insides because I know where it's coming from. I live with it every day.
"I'm jealous," he mumbles.
Props to him, I suppose, for being honest, but I'd seriously like to kick him square in the ass.
I figured that was what the problem was; it's been kind of obvious from day one. I suppose my reaction to Edward when he first arrived then my about-face shortly thereafter has given Xavier a little room for concern, but not much. To be perfectly fair, he and I haven't had a lot of time to talk since Edward and I have started … whatever it is we're doing, dating I suppose, so in that respect I can shoulder some of the blame.
Some.
The fact that Xavier feels like he can bully me and order me to stop seeing Edward is really what I'm upset about.
I sigh when he sits beside me, fighting my first instinct to lay my head on his shoulder. I hate that and I hate that I don't know what to say to him to make him feel better. I won't let Peyton feel bad for being so excited about her relationship with Edward.
"You really like him, don't you?" he asks me after a moment of staring at the trees that line my property.
The neighborhood is quiet, as it always is, and his words though spoken softly, seem to carry on the early morning breeze. The air is crisp and fresh, the grass dewy with moisture the sun hasn't had a chance to burn off yet, making it seem even more green than normal. I turn my face up, fluffy white clouds, a few with hints of gray float by in a robin's egg-colored sky streaked with pink.
The grass, the sky, the shades of gray in the clouds all remind me of Edward and I can feel my lips turn up in a smile just thinking about him.
"Yes, I really do," I tell him, letting the happiness I feel color my words.
"I don't want you to get hurt, Bella, that's all," he says as he shakes his head. "You hardly know him and I see you and Peyton acting like he's the best thing since sliced bread and it scares me. I can't watch you lose someone again … I just can't."
I don't even think about it before I lay my head on his shoulder. "I know that, but I have to try again at some point, Xav. Evan's been dead a long time; it's time to let him go," I whisper, my throat constricting painfully at the thought of that.
"I miss him," he says gruffly.
"I know you do. I do, too. We all do. He was your best friend, he's Peyton's dad, he'll always be a part of us, but I have to try to let him go if I want to ever move forward. Edward scares me, but he makes me feel alive, like I want to try again, you know?" My voice shakes as I try to keep a hold of my emotions. So many things rushing to the surface all at one time is making that difficult.
He wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? I can tell he makes you happy which is all fine and good, but if he hurts you, I'll kill him. I swear I will."
I snort, laughing a bit at that, although I have no doubt he'd try if it came right down to it. He's a hell of a lot bigger than Edward, but I wouldn't bet against Edward being able to hold his own against Xavier. Things he's said and done have led me to believe that there's a lot more to him than a guy that likes to hang out on Sunday playing XBOX with a seven-year-old and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream.
"I'm being careful. I promise. We haven't talked much about his past," I tell him as I turn to face him, rushing to finish my sentence when I see Xavier's eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. "He's not hiding anything, so get that look of your face. I told him I wanted to take things slow, so that's on me, not him. I haven't told him anything about Evan either, so if you want to get mad at Edward, get mad at me, too. He knows who Evan is, but he has no idea what happened to him." My voice falters at the end as I remember my nightmares from last night.
Hearing Edward's voice, frantic, screaming for me, battling icy waves in the pitch black ocean … it's like Evan all over again.
He huffs then rubs his chin. "Jesus, Bella, I get that you like the guy but are you sure can handle this? I mean Edward's out there now and while it's not winter or in the middle of a storm, you know anything can happen."
Neither one of us say anything to that comment; there's no need. I've been fighting the same battle since Edward first walked into The Breakers.
"Hell no, I'm not sure I can handle it, but I like him too much not to try," I admit slowly, finally voicing what I really want from Edward for the first time.
There's silence again, but this time it's much more bearable than before. "Fine," he grumbles after a few minutes, but I can tell he's smiling as he says it. "I'll be nicer to the guy, but for the love of God, can you try to keep the PDA down to a minimum? Shit, I thought I was gonna be sick the other night at Finn's."
I laugh. The look on his face is priceless, like he gets when Seth and Emmett have raw clam eating contests. I shake my head, enjoying his discomfort way too much, even though it's nice not to be fighting anymore. "No way. I've had to put up with the rest of you playing tonsil hockey in front of me. You can just suck it up for a change."
The words are funny for a moment or two … until the look on his face turns serious again. "Ah, damn it," he says as he reaches for my hand, holding it between both of his. "B, I've gotten so used to being your go-to guy that it's going to take some time getting used to sharing you, but if Edward is what you want, then I'll support you. You deserve to be happy, even if it means I get replaced," his words are light - the manner he says them isn't.
Not even close.
"Xav, you're my best friend, no one could ever replace you," I whisper, my eyes suddenly filled with tears. "I love you and I always will, even when you act like an ass. Just be happy for me, okay, and try to get to know him. I think this could be a really good thing."
He lets go with one hand, lifting it so that he can wipe away the tears that have fallen down my cheeks. Leaning forward, he kisses my forehead and says, "I love you, too. Seth and you and P are my family … I don't … I can't lose you. I love the others, too - your mom and dad and all the rest, but you guys mean everything to me, and you're all I have. I'm sorry I was a dick to you and to Edward, but I saw what was happening and it scared me."
"Well you were a dick, especially Saturday night. You're lucky I didn't kick your ass." I chuckle, bumping him with my shoulder. After we're quiet for a few minutes I say, "Edward's crazy about Peyton and I'm pretty sure he's just as crazy about me. I hope he's around for a while, a long while, so the sooner you can accept that, the sooner we don't have to have talks like this anymore."
He snorts and shakes his head. "There's no doubt about how Edward feels about you, Bell. The man can't keep his eyes off you and when you leave the room, he looks like someone just stole his puppy. It's kind of pathetic if you want to know the truth," he says, though he laughs while he says it so I know he's teasing. "Just promise me you and Peyton will be okay. That's all I need. I miss Pipsqueak; she spends all her time with or talking about Edward."
I open my mouth to say something but before I can, I hear the pitter-patter of bare feet thump across the porch just before Peyton jumps on his back. "Don't be mad at me, Xav. I'm just trying to make Edward not be so sad. I love you," she tells him, leaning over him and kissing him on the cheek.
He pulls her over his shoulder and holds her on his lap. "I think it's great you're his friend, P. I just miss hanging out with you is all."
She wraps her arms around his neck. I stand up, kissing him on top of the head, and go back inside, leaving the two of them to spend some time catching up. I do feel bad because I know that both of us have been a little wrapped up in Edward and haven't spent as much time as we should with Xavier and Seth … as well as the others. I make a plan to remedy that, soon. If things with Edward keep going in the direction it appears they might, balance is going to be the name of the game.
Once we eat breakfast, the mood much lighter thank goodness, we head for the restaurant. Xavier and Peyton tease and joke the whole way there and it really hits home how much she means to so many different people in so many different ways.
"Bella!" Alice shrieks when I walk in the back door of the kitchen. "I've been waiting for you all morning!"
I roll my eyes at her exuberance, but it's nothing I didn't expect. I had text messages from both her and Rose bright and early yesterday morning demanding details before the sun was even up. I'd managed to put them off all day yesterday, but I knew today, I had no chance in hell of escaping the Great Inquisition.
"Good morning, Bella. How are you today, Bella? So nice to see you, Bella," I singsong as I grab my apron and tie it around my waist.
She huffs, stomps her foot, and waves her hand in the air, saying, "Yeah, yeah. Good morning, Bella. How are you today, Bella? It's so nice to see you, Bella," she parrots. We all laugh at her, which she totally ignores. I look at Rose who merely shrugs her shoulders as if to say, 'what did you expect.'
"Now," Alice says, totally on a one-tracked mind, "spill."
I splutter and I can feel my cheeks flame when I think about what Edward and I did in the parking lot at Finn's. It's the first time in well … forever it seems like … that I'm the one with the juicy goods to share. As much as thinking about telling them embarrasses the shit out of me, I can't help but squee like a Robert Pattinson fangirl, too.
Xavier's fingers are in his ears and he's chanting 'la la la' over and over again the second my mouth opens. "Uh nuh, not in my kitchen you don't. If you three want to act like a bunch of over-excited teenage girls, you can do it anyplace but here."
"Fine, Mr. Spoilsport. We'll do it at Bella's tonight," Alice says without missing a beat. She turns toward me finishing her thought. "You need to keep your mind off Edward anyway, though as all we'll be talking about is him, that might be hard, but we'll keep you plied with plenty of ice cream and wine to make up for it."
Rose is nodding enthusiastically beside her and the look in her eyes scares me. There's no telling what they'll do to me once they get their claws in me … not to mention a glass or two, or more, of wine. However, as much fun as it sounds like, and it really does, I shake my head. "No can do, girls. Peyton will be home and her ears don't need to hear anything about, well, any of what I have to tell you."
I'm surprised by how disappointed I am about not having a girls' night. It's been way too long since we've done anything like that and I've missed my friends.
"Bell, let me take Peyton for the night. You know I haven't spent much time with her, and I know Seth misses her, too. We'll watch the soccer game and I'll make us some pizza. You girls have fun," he tells me.
The three of us squeal like the hysterical teens he just accused us of being, acting the part to the hilt.
"Thanks, Xav," I tell him quietly, kissing him one last time on the cheek.
He stares at me for a second before kissing the side of my head. "You're happy," he says, not asks. "It's all that matters, plus I get some quality Pipsqueak time, so I win."
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Monday night helps me make the next day and night pass quicker. The girls squealed at all the right parts and swooned where appropriate. We had the promised wine and ice cream, and the promised very detailed explanation of what happened in the parking lot. Honestly, Rose and Alice didn't have to push too much for me to spill everything. I've wanted to talk to them for days, weeks now, and getting it all out was … just what I needed.
Alice and I had to physically restrain Rose from rushing out of the house to find Xavier when I told both of them what he said to me in the pub. I was over it, grateful that he and I had come to an understanding, but it took the rest of a bottle of wine before Rose calmed down enough that Alice and I didn't have to worry about her making a break for it.
We talked for hours, about Edward, about Emmett and Jasper, about Evan, and about silly nonsense things that had nothing to do with guys. It was fabulous and I realized as the night wore on, as the wine continued to flow and I laughed until my sides ached, how much I'd withdrawn and how much I missed my friends.
I vowed that not only would things be changing as far as Edward and I were concerned when he got back, but so would everything else. I'm so damn tired of holding back, of being afraid to live, to try.
I'm ready to peek toward the deep end of the pool. I'm not ready to dive, head first … yet … but I'm getting there.
Walking out of The Breakers on Wednesday night, I have to pull up the collar on my windbreaker as I hurry across the parking lot to get into Cherry. Mom had gone home earlier and taken Peyton with her for some quality Nana/Granddaughter time. My daughter gets passed around like a hot potato it seems like, from one house to another, but I can't complain. For living in such a small town and for having such a small family, there's not a lack of things to do, nor any skimping in the spoiling department. In fact, knowing my mother, she and Peyton made a quick trip to Ellsworth to eat at McDonald's and stopped at Ben and Bill's Chocolate Emporium for a treat.
My mom, the closet McDonald's addict.
She likes to blame having to eat there on Peyton, but we all know it's the other way around. We just love her too much to say anything … well, most of the time. Emmett and Jasper get their digs in from time to time.
Another gust of wind blows, the chill biting through the nylon of my jacket and I increase my pace, shivering as I fumble with the key in the lock. The halyard on the flagpole outside the restaurant rattles against the pole, and a chill makes me hunch my shoulders as I glance at it. The night is eerie, almost foreboding, and I can't stop the tremor that rocks through me. I immediately think about Edward and worry.
It's not storming, though the night air is heavy with moisture. The scent of salt is strong, more so than normal and it just adds to the unease creeping over me.
I throw my purse on the seat beside me and turn the truck on, anxious to get to my parents' house. Cherry rumbles to life and as I back up and the headlights sweep out toward the water, I say a silent prayer that everything on the Isabella Marie is just fine. I don't waste any time getting to the house, though I do give a few seconds thought to stopping at the Coast Station and checking with Aggie to make sure there's nothing to worry about, but decide against it.
I need my mom.
I park beside her car and dash into the house, feeling kind of foolish but not enough to stop me from throwing the door open as I go inside.
My heart's racing and I take a deep breath so I don't scare Peyton, though I'm freaking myself out.
"Mom!" I call out and I hear her and Peyton giggling from the kitchen.
I take another deep breath and this time the scent of fresh from the oven peanut butter cookies finally permeates through the fog of fear and I relax … a little.
"Hey, you two," I say when I walk into the kitchen. Peyton's sitting in front of a plate of cookies holding a glass of milk in her hand, looking as happy as can be. She's kicking the side of the breakfast bar with her big toe, nails still painted lime green because she says it's Edward's favorite color. I watch her nibble on a cookie, crumbs falling everywhere, and I feel better instantly.
"Mom, how many cookies is that for this one?" I ask as I pluck the cookie out of her hand and take a bite.
"Hey!" She laughs when I shove the whole thing in my mouth. "Not cool, Mom."
I ruffle her hair before kissing her cheek. "Whatever, P, I'm the coolest mom you know," I tease.
I look up at my mom and she's staring at me, one of those "Mom" looks on her face and I give her a shaky smile. She knows, just like she always does, just like I know with Peyton. It's a mom thing and now that I am one, I totally get it.
"Peyton, why don't you go pick out one of the new movies we bought today," Mom says, rolling her eyes when I snort, "and let me and your mom talk for a few minutes."
"Are you okay, Mom?" Peyton immediately asks and I nod my head, because really, for the most part, I'm fine.
"Sure, baby. How many movies did you sweet talk Nana into buying for you," I ask but look at my mom … who's looking everywhere but at me.
Peyton giggles and hops off the stool. "Three."
I want to tell my mom to stop spoiling her so badly, but like with everyone else, it'd go in one ear and out the other.
She turns and runs out of the room, telling me she wants popcorn and soda, leaving just me and my mom.
"We need something stronger than milk," she says. She turns and goes to the refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of my dad's beer. I give her the big eyes and she shrugs her shoulders. "I'll just buy him more, like he'll even notice."
We both chuckle at that because I swear, the man counts how many there are every night before he goes to bed.
I poke my head in the living room and find Peyton curled up on the couch, already sound asleep with Despicable Me playing on the Blu-ray. I smile and shake my head; she's been dying to get that movie.
I walk back through the kitchen and find my mom curled up on the loveseat in the sunroom. The wind has picked up, rattling the glass. I stop in my tracks and once again that feeling of dread washes over me.
"He's fine, Bella," she says, staring at me.
"How do you do it, Mom? How do you watch Dad go out every day and not spend the entire day just staring at the water for the first sign of him coming back?" I whisper. My eyes burn and my nose tingles, and I struggle to keep from breaking the hell down.
She pats the spot next to her and I slip in beside her, snuggling close. She runs her fingers through my hair and neither of us say anything for a few minutes. "When I first met your dad," she says, her voice sounding faraway and dreamy. "One of the first things he told me was he was a fisherman, through and through and if I couldn't share him with the water, it was best to go our separate ways." She laughs lightly and shakes her head. "As if I could do that," she scoffs. "I was head over heels in love with him the first time I ever laid eyes on him."
My parents met on the beach in Kennebunkport and it's been a love affair ever since.
"It's hard, baby," she says softly. "You've grown up with this as your life so you know what can happen out there; you've lived it firsthand. You've also suffered through the absolute worst when you lost Evan. It's a little different for your dad than it is for Edward though. He's just starting out, he hasn't been born and raised here, he hasn't ever experienced what it's like to live through a storm that you're positive you won't ever escape or felt the biting cold of the water when it crashes up over the sides of the boat. He's never worked for days straight, with little or no sleep, so cold you're sure you'll never be warm again, or have your hands feel like your fingers will surely fall off if you try to move them."
I cuddle closer to her, her words terrifying me to my core.
I can't do this, I immediately tell myself. There's no way I can survive watching Edward leave every day and wonder if he'll come back.
She leans down and kisses the side of my head, rubbing my arm up and down as if to ward off the chill that has suddenly overtaken my body.
"If you have the feelings for Edward that I think you have, you're going to need to make a decision, Bella. Being with Edward means accepting that part of his life and being able to let him do what he needs to do without making him feel guilty for it. Fishing isn't in his blood, but if he's anything like Jasper, he might as well have been born and bred here just like Emmett and your dad and Granddad." We both laugh at that, thinking about my Grandpa Walter.
If there was ever a man alive that epitomizes what a fisherman is, it's him. White hair, craggy face, a cigar or a pipe hanging out of his mouth every waking hour, and a voice that sounds like he's been swallowing glass for fifty years. I love and miss him and my Grandma Joy. Grandma finally decided she'd had enough of the harsh northern winters and they live in Arizona, soaking up as much sun as they possibly can.
"It's a hard life, baby, but Grandma did it, I've done it, Alice and Rose do it, and if you want Edward in your life, you'll have to do it, too. There will be days you'll feel like crying, and be afraid you'll never stop once you start. There will be days you'll beg him not to go and be angry when he does. There will be days that you'll threaten to leave if he does, then regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. There will be times that you go out of your way to do something nice or romantic, only to have him fall asleep before you have a chance to enjoy the hours you spent getting everything ready." At this, she shakes her head and makes a soft sound letting me know that's happened to her more than a few times.
Turning to face me, she starts again when she grabs my hand in hers. "You'll spend plenty of sleepless nights and plenty of days with your stomach tied in knots, too worried to even eat. You'll probably spend more time apart than together, and as long as Edward works on the water, you'll never leave Corea, at least not for any extended period of time. You need to really think about this, Bella, because having a relationship, loving a fisherman, isn't for the faint of heart."
"I don't love Edward," I whisper, my voice thick with too many feelings to name.
She chuckles and then pushes my hair back over my ear. "Maybe not yet, but you have feelings for him, yes?"
She raises her eyebrows and gives me big eyes along with the tip of her head, staring, until I nod, squeaking out a tiny, "Yes."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, silly girl. Edward's … well, I'm happily married and think your father's the cat's meow but even I can appreciate a gorgeous man and Edward is definitely that and then some."
I want to be mortified by the fact that my mom thinks my … whatever he is … is hot, but I can't because her words from before are bouncing around in my brain like a pinball, dinging bells and all.
"Baby, if you're this upset by a little wind, in the middle of summer, how in the world can you handle it when it's winter and it's storming?"
My mom never minces words, and this time is no different.
"I'm not sure I can," I say honestly, sadly because the thought of not having Edward in my life … hurts.
She looks at me, her eyes shimmering and troubled. "What happened to Evan wasn't your fault, Bella." I open my mouth to argue with her but she's shaking her head adamantly. "It wasn't. He made his own choices and what happened to him was a terrible accident. You, your father, and Emmett need to stop blaming yourselves and let it go."
Again, there's no sugarcoating.
"I want to, Mom. I'm trying," I tell her. For the first time, I really mean it, the words aren't just placating.
"Are you trying for you or because of Edward?"
I don't answer her, but the question hits home, making the air around us weighted … expectant. I lay my head on her shoulder, absorbing … needing her strong arm around me. I've always looked up to my mom, loved her, but listening to her talk to me woman to woman about the realities of what her life's been like, the sacrifices she's made for my dad, makes me admire her even more. Like my grandmother, she's one of the strongest women I know.
"I don't know anymore. All I do know is that Edward makes me want to try. Try to forgive myself, try to say goodbye, and want to try again." I sigh, wiping my eyes to brush away the few tears that have fallen.
We drink our beers, neither saying a word, while the wind whips through the trees, each keeping to our own thoughts for a few minutes.
"You need to talk to Edward, baby. Tell him about Evan and about what it's done to you. He deserves to know and just like he needs to talk to you and tell you about what brought him here. If you both feel as strongly about each other as it seems like you do, it's the only way things will work." Her voice is calm, but there is most definitely an underlying meaning behind them. It makes me wonder who she's talking about - me … or him.
Before I can spend too much time thinking about it, I yawn.
She kisses me on the side of the head and says, "Go upstairs and sleep in your old room. There's no sense in going home as Peyton's already asleep." I nod before she's even done talking because I don't feel like going home. "Besides, it'll be nice to have company. Being alone when your dad is gone gets old after a while."
"Oh , Mom!" I gasp, feeling like the world's worst daughter for never realizing what she goes through when Dad is away. I've been so wrapped up in my own guilt and wallowing in my own self-pity that I've ignored her feelings … Rose and Alice's, too.
I suck.
Bad.
"Hush, child," she tells me, shaking her head. "It's been hard, Bella," she starts, twisting her mouth and then sighing, a sign she's thinking as she talks. "Watching you the past few years close yourself off from everyone except Peyton. You're my baby and you'll always be, and it broke my heart to see you so sad all the time, holding back, just going through the motions. What happened to Evan was truly awful, but what it did to you has been every bit as hard to watch. Since Edward's arrived, you've smiled more, laughed more … lived more. I'm sure he has a past, we all do, but I hope for his sake and mostly for yours, that you'll think before you act when he shares with you what that past entails."
This time I know there's more to what she's saying but I also know my mom. She's not going to say anything further. Both of my parents have always been that way with both me and Emmett. Our lives are ours to live as we wish and besides loving us no matter what, they are blessedly uninvolved. They are always there if we need them, but keep the advice giving to minimum.
"Now, off to bed you go, young lady," she orders making us both laugh because it's the same thing she said to me every night before bed when I was little.
After getting Peyton settled in her room, or the one she's made into her home away from home, I lie down in my own childhood bed. The room hasn't been changed that much: the boy band posters and the pictures of Russell Crowe clad in his gladiator outfit and Hugh Jackman as Wolverine interspersed with the plethora of David Beckham pictures showing him all stages of undress and hairstyles still hang on the walls. There are still pictures of Evan, Seth, Xavier, and me thumb-tacked to my bulletin board as well as the invitation to Emmett and Rose's wedding and a picture of Jasper and Alice from their first Christmas in Corea. Staring at them, I'm reminded of the person I was before Evan died, the one that used to play football with the boys and hang out on the beach with Rose.
I fall asleep, dreaming of the person I used to be.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~~
"Was that Edward?" Xavier asks me the next night, the windshield wipers swishing against the driving rain.
I nod, sighing and lean my head against the window, watching the water coat the windows. A clap of thunder makes me jump and the lightning that zigzags across the sky makes my skin break out in goosebumps. I clutch the phone tightly in my hand, holding it against my chest. My heart's racing but I keep reminding myself that he's back, safe and sound and tucked away at the boarding house.
He sounded so tired, his voice hoarse and choppy, when he called to tell me he was back. I was so happy to hear from him that I didn't even mind he was going to go straight to bed. Until I hung up the phone. Once the screen went dark, it was like he was gone … not just at Carlisle and Esme's, but gone.
I wanted to cry, but felt ridiculous. The storm that is raging outside isn't helping matters at all either. Which is why I am sitting in Xavier's truck going home where he will stay with me until the storm passes.
Just like he always does.
"He okay?"
I nod, saying, "Exhausted, but yes, he's fine. Thanks for bringing me and Peyton home and for … well for staying with me." I hate being so terrified of storms but no matter how hard I try not to be, I just can't help it.
"Ehhh, Seth needs to help Esme anyway. He mentioned something about moving furniture around." We both laugh, picturing Seth and Esme redecorating, but like most everyone, he can't ever resist Esme's charms.
It's a race to get inside the house before getting soaked. Once we're inside, I make sure that the candles and flashlights are handy in case the power goes out as it's apt to do during strong storms. I jump when the lights flicker and try to take a few deep breaths.
Really, what I want is Edward. I instantly feel bad though, because I know how utterly drained he is.
"Mom, can we watch Tangled?" Peyton asks, snapping me out of my wallowing and I turn to her.
"Sure, baby. Go get yours PJs on and we'll get comfy on the couch. I'll make some popcorn while you're changing." I laugh because she whoops and then runs up the stairs.
"Bell, you go change, too. I'll make the popcorn and get the drinks," Xavier tells me, his voice gentle, soothing … and just what I need. Well, besides Edward.
I giggle when he grimaces as he picks the Blu-ray case up off the couch where Peyton dropped her backpack. "What, Xav, fairy tales aren't your thing?"
He snorts and mumbles something along the lines of 'the things I do for you two' before going into the kitchen to make our snack.
We're well into our second movie, How to Train Your Dragon, Xavier's choice, not mine, when the sound of someone knocking on the door sends my heart racing. I shriek, popcorn flying everywhere. My hands shake and when thunder rumbles outside, it's as if I'm in the middle of a horror movie. There's another knock, this one sounding more insistent than before.
"Bella!" I hear and almost collapse with relief.
Edward.
"Doesn't the guy realize it's pouring rain outside?" Xavier mutters.
I hurry to the door, the bizarreness of the situation finally registering. It is storming, which would explain why I didn't hear him pull up. Then I stumble because I realize he rode his bike in the rain to come over here and that thought makes my body tense.
Grasping the doorknob, I throw the door open, paying no attention the rain blowing in. Standing in front of me is Edward. Gorgeous, dripping wet, panicked Edward.
"What in the world are you doing here?" I ask, paralyzed when he looks at me.
The look on his face makes my blood run cold.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
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