Watching Her Chapter 39 - Jasmine

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Chapter 39 - Jasmine - Aladdin
Jasmine is free-spirited and brave. There might be a little rebel in her, too!

"God damn it," I whisper hiss when I step on the stair that creaks, the right side of the fifth one from the top. I freeze, certain that Mom will wake up the second the sound floats through the air and slips beneath her door like some sort of wispy stream of smoke.

I'm being overly paranoid, I know I am. Mom's always been a heavy sleeper. I suppose that comes from living with Dad and his schedule for so long. I make it the rest of the way down the stairs with no incident, though it's not until I silently go out the sliding glass doors, that I allow myself to breathe.

The other night, the night after Mom and Dad got home, was so much easier than this. I'm sure it had something to with the fact that I was going out of my mind with wanting to see Bella so much that I ignored the spike of adrenaline and the way my heart hammered in my chest, much the way it is now. I have to take a few deep breaths and I can feel myself start to calm down by the time I walk in the direction of the woods.

Involuntarily, I shiver when a gust of wind buffets me, cooling the sweat that slides down the back of my neck. My footsteps are sure and quick; by this point I know the route between our houses as well as I know that the sweet spot when I shoot is to the left of the center of my foot. It's instinct and I give into the ease in which my legs carry me toward Bella.

I yawn, wide and for a long time, so long it makes my eyes water. I almost want to curse what seems like the never-ending cycle of clock watching, cat naps whenever I can find time for them, practice, spending time with Jasper, Emmett, and my parents, not to mention all the time I spend thinking about Bella. But how can I, really? It's exhausting at times and the nagging worry that I'm not as ready for camp as I should be is always present, but thoughts of Bella make it all fade away.

I feel myself harden as I skirt a fallen branch and then jump carefully, but without pausing, over a clump of rocks and dirt. The silvery-white moonlight, bright enough in a clear inky sky, makes it to where I don't maim myself - three weeks before camp no less - and I slow down, though every part of me screams to hurry up and just get to her. With my free hand I adjust, and let out a quiet, needy groan when I twitch inside of my shorts.

Fucking hell.

Realizing that it's a complete effort in futility to stop thinking about her so that my dick doesn't force its way out of my shorts, I give in and let the thoughts fly as my feet keep moving forward.

I want her.

I want in her.

On her.

Above her. Below her. Around her.

I want to feel her slick and hot. I want to feel hard nipples pressed against my chest and silky soft hair in between my fingers. I want to feel her breath, warm and sweet against my mouth, my ears when she tells me she wants me and Christ Almighty, do I ever want to hear her say that?

I'm pretty fucking sure I'm a third, a half, maybe even five-eighths sort of, probably, more than likely, I think, in love with her so it's more than just sex and wanting to get it on with her. There's an ache, and one that's not only between my legs, that longs for her. It goes deeper than just wanting to be the person that she leans on when everything with her mom and Phil overwhelms her, or the one whose hand she holds when she needs help.

I want to be hers.

I want it every bit as much as I want her to be mine.

It's way too fucking early to think in those terms, especially when I can't focus on much past seeing her now. I'm not an idiot, though Bella makes me as crazy as a shit house rat at times, and more often than not, I don't know which way is up, but even I know it's way too damn soon to think too far down the road. There's no doubting at this point that we like each other … a lot … but there's so much uncertainty, so much still to talk about, it scares the hell out of me to think too far into the future.

I scrub my face with my free hand as her house comes into view, thankful at least that my raging hard-on has subsided … for the most part. Just being in the same vicinity as her is enough to have me raring to go, but I've learned to manage.

The closer I get, the more nervous I become, especially when I see a strange large, black car in the driveway. My first reaction is one of fear, then it quickly changes to irrational jealousy. It takes all of thirty seconds to realize it's Phil's car. I walk quickly past it, shaking my head just a bit at how surreal the entire situation is.

Phil Dwyer, world-famous MLB baseball pitcher is here … in Forks … and as far as I can tell, no one knows. Or if they do, no one's talking. I wonder how Bella will handle that part of things as more and more people find out who her step-dad is and what's happened to her mom. However she deals with it, I'll be right by her side.

I hurry inside her building, totally thrilled to find her notebook waiting for me. Two days without her words is enough, and it makes me not want to even think about what camp will be like. I wasn't sure, especially with Phil here, how she'd handle things … this … but she promised she'd keep to her schedule if she could, or our schedule, I suppose. Thank God. I take a moment to let being this close to her, in our place, because oh yeah, it's just as special to me as it is to her now, wash over me and work its magic. It only takes a few deep breaths while the scent of sugar cookies and peppermint – which I've found out it is from her shampoo – saturates the air and seeps into my skin.

Her drumsticks lay across the snare. Jesus, I hope she plays tonight. Like her words, I need her music, too.

I open the notebook in my hand and do a quick once over of what I wrote to her last night. Not that I really need to, but sometimes, my brain moves faster than my fingers can form words, so I'm just making sure I don't sound like a bumbling idiot … or not too much of one at any rate.

Bella,

I wish you could have been here with me tonight … or I was with you, or we just could have been together. I was surrounded by people all day, and while I had a decent time, I missed you. Is that strange? It is isn't it, since we've never done anything together, but I felt like there was this piece that was supposed to be here, but wasn't. Did you see the fireworks? I want to watch them with you … next year, okay? 

Today I told my friends about you and what happened to your mom and dad. Rose wanted to rush to your house to come get you. Jasper and Emmett about shit their pants when I told them Phil's your step-dad, just like I knew they would. They'll be such good friends to you, Bella. They can't wait to meet you and even though Ali isn't here, she will be so excited to hear about you. Please don't be nervous about meeting them, they're going to love you. 

My stomach does its usual twisty turny thing seeing the word, because as much as I know they all will love her … they most certainly aren't the only ones that will.

Do.

Might.

Whatever.

How's the visit with Phil going? Is it hard having him here? I want him to make things better for you, but I don't know if he just makes them worse. That's an asshole thing to say, isn't it? Shit, I'm sorry. I just hate thinking of you being sad or uncomfortable or anxious, like I really hate it. 

I tell her some more about camp because she's asked. I tell her how long I've been working toward this and what it might mean for my future. Seeing my words, my dreams, written down in my own handwriting shocks the shit out of me, and it's pretty damn scary, too. I want so many things, and I'm as afraid of getting them, as I'm terrified I won't. College, playing professionally, traveling, representing the country by making the National Team … it's almost too much. But talking to her about it makes it seem not quite so daunting.

When the fireworks were going off tonight all I could think about was kissing you beneath them, while they explode overhead and shower the sky with streaks of color. Of course I think about kissing you anywhere, anytime … all the time these days. 

Shit, I better stop before I make an ass out of myself.

I can't wait to see you, I miss you. 

Edward

Ugh. The girl has my brain so fried most of the time it's a wonder I'm able to form semi-coherent sentences to begin with.

I switch out the notebooks and glance at my watch. A sudden spike of anxiety makes me break out into a cold sweat when I remember that Phil's here and well, he might not be particularly understanding of the arrangement Bella and I have set up. I scurry to my post, breathing heavily for a few moments until I'm sure he's not watching me from a window or worse yet, trying to find a gun.

The thought makes me want to pee my pants.

Shit.

By the time I've beaten back the urge, I hear the door open and there she is. I groan. I bang the side of my head against the tree beside me and wrap my arm around it to hang on for dear life before my knees give out and I'm in a heap on the ground.

Jesus.

Black shorts, a tight, very short-sleeved, white t-shirt with Jasmine on the front, hair down and brushing her shoulders and curling around her face … making me really second-guess that whole 'I like her hair up better' thing. She hesitates, cocking her head, making it seem like she's listening to make sure no one inside, or Phil specifically, has heard her leave. I hold my breath. I need her out here tonight and my body sags against the tree when she takes a step, glancing in my direction for just a brief moment.

"Bella," I whisper her name only, but it's everything I need to say.
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