“I feel like I’m in a Volvo car commercial.”
Edward squinted over at Bella as she reclined dramatically against the sumptuous leather interior of his convertible, trying to smooth the hair that whipped around her head in a tempestuous dark cloud.
“You look like you’re in a car commercial, too,” he said with a grin. “Very sexy.” He reluctantly turned his eyes back to the road so he wouldn’t miss the Dravus Street exit.
“I feel sexy,” she replied. He glanced over in time to see an eyebrow raise provocatively over the rim of her Ray-Bans. Then the wind slapped a thick lock of hair across her face, and he laughed while she spit it out of her mouth.
“I can put the top up if it’s too windy,” he offered.
“No way! This is awesome. A sunny day in Seattle - film at eleven.”
“You do love the sun,” he murmured, half to himself. He shook his head in wonder that everything she’d ever done or said had left such a vivid imprint in his mind, like experiencing his first Technicolor movie after a lifetime of only black and white.
Bella fished in her backpack until she procured a small black hair band, then pulled her tangled locks into a thick tail and secured them at the nape of her neck.
“Voila,” she announced with a triumphant grin. Then she leaned back, face upturned to the sun, as if to soak it in all the better. Her ivory cheeks had turned rosy already from exposure, and Edward frowned slightly.
“Did you put on some sunscreen? I don’t want you to get burned,” he advised.
Bella only laughed. “Not yet. I decided to let you do the honors when we get to the beach.”
Her eyebrow raised again, and so did Junior. He felt it struggling against the layers of swim trunks and cargo shorts that ensnared it. Edward squirmed a little in his seat, trying to adjust himself.
“You enjoy tormenting me, don’t you?”
“Very much so,” she answered with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I plan to make sure you’re well-covered in sun-block, too. I don’t want those sexy moles of yours to turn all crazy and malignant on me.”
“Heaven forbid,” Edward agreed. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, while Junior danced in anticipation of Bella’s hands on its owner’s skin. The two of them had been looking forward to this date with a longing neither of them was used to. By the time Sunday had arrived, Edward was sure that he’d built up Bella in his mind to ridiculous proportions. Why had he made her the shining beacon of his dark existence? Surely he was placing far too much importance on the connection he felt with her. It was time to bring his growing obsession down a notch and get real. She was just a girl. A young one, at that, like Emmett pointed out. It was unrealistic to expect anything good to come of this situation.
But when she opened the door of her dorm room today and smiled up at him, he knew it was no use. Everything within him sparked to life, like she was premium fuel to his engine. And now he thrummed along in time to the motor of the C70 beneath them, taking them on a journey from which he was increasingly certain there was no return.
He glanced over at Bella, hoping to see her mirror his anticipation. But instead her brows were knitted as she ran her hand along the buttery leather interior of his car.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly. Her smile was forced.
“What is it?” he demanded.
Busted again, she thought. Why could she hide nothing from him?
“I’m just curious about something.” She paused, not knowing how to continue.
He waited, but as always, his patience fizzled quickly. “Just say it. You can ask me anything.”
She wanted to laugh and ask, “But will you answer?” Instead, she took a deep breath and voiced her real question.
“Well, I know that you started being an escort because you had a lot of debt and expenses to pay off. So . . . I guess I’m just wondering how you can afford a car like this.” She bit her lip and gave him a wary glance.
“I can’t,” he answered. She was relieved he didn’t seem offended. “It’s essentially a company car. Rosalie makes sure her employees show up for their dates dressed to impress, and that includes the transportation they arrive in. When I first started in this line of work, that was a definite perk for me. Having my car paid for meant one less bill for me to worry about, and Alice could drive our grandmother’s car whenever she needed it for school or work.
“Which reminds me,” he added, eyes narrowing behind his own sunglasses. “Why didn’t you tell me you met my cousin last weekend?”
Her surprise was easy to see despite the dark glass over her eyes. “I . . . I don’t know. She said she’d call me sometime, but she never did, so . . .” She bit her lip in that way that always drove him crazy. “I guess I didn’t know how you’d feel about me befriending your family behind your back. Does that sound weird?”
“A little,” he replied. “Why would I mind you being friends with Alice?”
She shrugged, wondering how to explain. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to insinuate myself into your life, like some creepy stalker. It was a total coincidence that she and I met.”
“Maybe there are no coincidences.” He’d never been a fatalist before, but maybe that was changing. He had a strange sense of the puzzle pieces of his life coming closer together. He just wasn’t sure how they were all going to fit into the big picture quite yet. Hell, he didn’t even know what the big picture was. All he knew was that the girl sitting next to him was suddenly the biggest, and most unexpected, piece of that puzzle. She gave him hope that the picture would be clear someday. He wondered what he could possibly give her in return.
“I think it would be nice if you and Alice became friends,” he said, trying to sound casual. “A lot of her high school friends went to different colleges, so she could use some on campus who know their way around.”
“The same thing happened to me. My best friend from high school is in Europe. And I was too busy studying to make any lasting friends last year. I kind of feel like I’m starting over now.” She didn’t tell him that her foray into hired sex was part of the plan, but he’d already figured that out the night they met. Sometimes when he looked at her, she felt completely exposed even when she was fully dressed. Even when she peered at him from behind dark, protective gray shades.
He was looking at her like that now from behind his own sunglasses. His lips twitched in that little grin of his, and she squirmed at the tingles that spread between her thighs.
“I think everyone deserves at least one do-over in life,” he said. “We’ll have to toast to new beginnings later,” he said.
“Sounds good. Did you bring wine?”
“Nope. Gatorade will have to do.” His grin broadened, and he turned his adorable face back to road as they took a right onto 20th Street.
Bella laughed and assured him she loved Gatorade. “And tell Alice to call me,” she added.
“Oh, she will. She was waiting for my blessing, too, if you can believe that.” Edward shook his head, baffled. “Am I that bad? Am I that much of a hard-ass?”
“No. Just stubborn.”
“How can you know that already? We just met.”
“I can tell. You get something in your head and there’s no swaying you. Am I right?”
He snorted in her direction. “Takes one to know one.”
She smiled. “Maybe. But I still think you’re more immovable than I am. I like to look at all sides of an issue. I have the feeling you always think your side is the right one.”
His shrug was cavalier. “That’s because it is.” He tried to keep a straight face, but his grin only grew wider.
“What am I getting myself into?” She meant it as a joke, but it hung in the air with more weight than she intended.
Edward fell silent, because he had no good answer for her. He concentrated on following Government Way down to 36th Avenue. It wouldn’t be much further now.
“Have you ever been to Discovery Park?” he asked at last.
Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She’d spent the last two minutes trying to figure out how to take back what she’d said. She was surprised he hadn’t taken the opportunity to give her an easy out from what he deemed their “impossible situation.” He had every time before.
“No, I’ve never been there, believe it or not. Is that where you go to run?”
“Yeah, sometimes. I like it because it really feels like you’re away from the city, even though it’s so close to downtown. We’ll have to walk about a mile and a half down to the beach, so it’s a good thing you wore your sneakers.”
“You’re going to try to get me to jog yet, aren’t you?”
He gave her that gorgeous, lopsided grin. “You might want to race me. Last one to the shore has to sunbathe in the nude.”
“Ha!” she exclaimed. “In your dreams. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to get arrested, would you?”
“Oh, it’s doubtful you would. This place is known for nude sunbathing. You probably won’t be the only one if you decide to go au natural.”
Bella stared at him, trying to determine if he was joking. “You aren’t seriously taking me to a nude beach, are you?”
He tried to keep his poker face intact. “It’s not a nude beach, per se. But the naturalists like to come here and let it all hang out - literally. To make a statement, I guess. The human body is beautiful, Bella. Especially yours. You should embrace it.”
She was gaping at him in mild terror, and it was all he could do to keep from erupting in laughter.
“Look, I’m no prude. I’m all for embracing the beauty of the human body or whatever. I mean, I took a life drawing class this semester, so I’m going to have to draw naked people at least once a week. But that doesn’t mean I have to expose myself to every Tom, Dick or Harry who happens to walk by me on the beach.”
Edward could no longer contain his laughter. “I don’t want you exposing yourself, either, trust me. Well, not to anyone but me.” He side-eyed her meaningfully, and warmth radiated from her nether regions until it crept all the way up her face.
“Good. I want the same thing.” Her look was twice as meaningful as his, and his smile faded. He deftly changed the subject before the usual elephant sat its giant ass down between them.
“So, back up a minute. You’re drawing naked people this semester? What kind of class is that?”
“Life Drawing,” she reiterated, sounding somewhat defensive. “The main emphasis is studying and drawing the human form. We have models posing in various positions so we can try to capture the muscle and bone structure of the body. I guess they’ll be nude a good chunk of the time, according to the instructor. Right now we’re just drawing each other - facial portraits, from across the room. Our easels are in a big circle, so we draw whomever is straight across from us. But the models will show up in a week or two.”
“Interesting. Male or female?”
“Both.”
“Huh.” He didn’t like the thought of her staring at naked guys all day, and again realized the taste of his own medicine wasn’t so sweet.
Bella looked out the window, keeping her satisfied grin to herself. She liked the thought of being able to level the playing field a little between them, even superficially. Though this was hardly a game they were playing, she still savored each small victory, each piece of evidence that Edward was in as deep she as she was.
“Tell you what,” she suggested. “I’ve got a pen and notebook in my backpack. Since you’re all hot to take your clothes off today, you can be my practice model and pose for me on this nude beach.”
It was Edward’s turn to guffaw. “I didn’t say I was hot to take my clothes off. I’m just hot for you to do it.”
“What kind of double standard is that? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. If I’m frolicking naked in the surf, then so are you.”
Edward’s eyebrows shot skyward. “You’re actually considering it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” That was a bald-faced lie, so she tried to perfect her own poker face.
Before he turned on West Emerson to head for the south parking lot, he paused and studied her closely. He leaned in so he could find her eyes between their twin sunglass barriers.
“Be careful, Bella. I might call you on your bluff.”
“Go for it,” she answered.
“Oh, I intend to.”
Their grins were a matched set as they headed toward Discovery Park.
# # # # # # # # # #
“This view is amazing. No wonder you like to come here,” Bella said in awe.
She and Edward stood at the top of the bluff, looking out over the Sound and the Olympic Mountains to the west. Backpacks in tow, they had traversed a beautiful meadow until they reached a fork in the road. One path would lead them through the woods, while the other would take them down the steep bluff to the water below.
“It is pretty awesome,” he agreed, taking in the majestic scenery before them. “Kind of puts your everyday worries into perspective.”
“Yeah,” she agreed softly. Though she and Edward had come across plenty of other hikers and runners so far, there was still a feeling of solitude surrounding them as they trucked along the path through the wilderness. Edward took her hand whenever the trails became rough or steep, and now was no different.
“We’ll go down the South Beach Trail,” he said, nodding to the left. “We can always come back up the Loop Trail and use the access road if you’re too tired to take the bluff trail later.”
“No way. I’m not a pussy,” she protested, taking his hand.
He chuckled and entwined his fingers through hers. “Come on, tough girl.”
He led her down the steep path toward the beach. The warmth of Edward’s hand in hers matched that of the sun on her face, seeping clear down to her bones. All she could think was, This is what happiness feels like.
“This isn’t a very good place for sunbathing,” he admitted as they made their way down to the rugged shoreline. The dark, sandy beach stretching out before them was littered with driftwood and rocky outcrops. “But it’s a lot more private. I didn’t really want to go to someplace crowded like Golden Gardens. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” She squeezed his hand and walked side by side with him along the pebbled sand, enjoying the sound of the waves washing along the shore. In the distance a couple threw a Frisbee back and forth, and a few kids played in the thick, wet sand while their parents chaperoned from nearby blankets.
“You want to walk to the lighthouse at West Point?” he asked.
“Sure.” She nodded her consent, and they headed down the coastline, watching distant boats sail across the Sound. Edward looked over at Bella, still feeling almost startled to see her there, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune. Her cheeks were glowing, hoperfully from the same euphoria he felt inside; but then he remembered that she said she hadn’t put any sun-block on yet. Her skin was far too fair to last an afternoon by the water without protection. He looked around and spied a secluded spot near a boulder, piles of driftwood providing shelter on the other side.
“Maybe we should rest here for a minute and put on some sunscreen before we both fry,” he suggested, gesturing to the sandy alcove.
“Good idea,” she agreed. She followed him to the spot and opened her backpack, drawing out a beach towel; but when she looked over at Edward, he had already removed a large quilt from his pack and was spreading it over the ground.
“Wow! Nice,” she commented as she took in the ornate, if faded, patchwork design. “Too nice to ruin at the beach.”
“Nah, this is an old quilt,” he assured her. “I use it for outdoor stuff. My great-grandmother made dozens of them, so we might as well put them to use.”
“Okay,” she said with a shrug, dropping her folded towel onto the quilt as a makeshift pillow. She kicked off her sneakers and watched Edward do the same. Then they stopped and looked at one another, a sudden tension springing to life between them. They were each staring at the other’s worn t-shirt and shorts, wondering what lay beneath. Bella was itching for Edward to pull that faded cotton over his head. Edward couldn’t wait to see her wriggle out of her blue jean cut-offs.
He cleared his throat and took a step closer - close enough to reach out and slide his fingers under the neckline of her vintage 80s new-wave shirt.
“So, what color is Bella Swan’s bathing suit?” he mused aloud, his lips pursing provocatively as she waited with bated breath. “I’ve been wondering about this all week.” He pulled gently at the knit fabric of her shirt until a spaghetti strap the color of fresh snow was revealed.
“White,” he murmured, running his fingers over the strap and the skin around it. “Pure white. Virginal, even.”
His smirk was subtle; knowing. She was offering herself up to him a second time. No one had touched her since he had, and the thrill of it was equal to the guilt that he’d made no such covenant to her.
She exhaled slowly, trying to keep from shaking. The mere touch of his fingers on her collarbone sent tremors down to her toes. Despite the sunglasses, his gaze seared her like it had that first night when he’d made her twirl for him in front of the window.
“Let me see the rest,” he ordered softly.
He dropped his hand and waited. He was going to make her undress for him, damn him. She was definitely trembling now, despite the heat from the sun and his shielded eyes.
She reached for the hem of her t-shirt and slowly pulled upward, revealing several inches of pale flesh above her tight shorts. Then she grabbed the tee decisively in both hands and yanked it over her head, inhaling sharply, her breasts rising with the movement before she tossed the shirt on the quilt beside them. She felt her nipples pebble beneath her swimsuit as the sea breeze brushed over her. Then she pushed her sunglasses atop her head and squinted up at Edward, feeling triumphant at the expression on his face.
His mouth hung slack, his eyes darting up and down her body like the marble in a pinball machine, unable to rest in one place for long. They traveled over her ivory skin, only a few shades darker than her swimsuit; they took in the delicate architecture of her neck, shoulders and arms, their lines softened beneath her supple flesh; then they settled on the rigid outline of her nipples, clearly defined beneath their flimsy triangles of fabric. He was overwhelmed by the desire to push the material aside and thumb those dusky pink buttons before sucking each of them into his mouth.
“Your turn,” she whispered. Her dark eyes fell from his face to his waistline, and she reached for the bottom of his own t-shirt. He let her fingers wander underneath, over the tense muscles of his stomach until they tickled the trail of hair leading down from his navel. Junior was positively ecstatic at this turn of events, urging Edward to pull his shirt off and allow her easier access. She took full advantage, placing both hands on his naked torso, running them slowly up his belly and over his chest until his breathing was as unsteady as hers. Why did she make him feel this way? Nervous and excited, like it was the first time they’d seen each other’s bodies, the first time they’d touched.
He didn’t know why; he didn’t care. He gave in to the sensation and slid his hands around her, letting them glide up her slight frame until they found her beautiful face. She reached up and pulled off his sunglasses, needing to bare his gaze as well as his body. Their naked eyes connected and held until their lips took over. And then there was nothing but the soft wetness of their mouths conducting the heat between them, passing it back and forth until it became a fire of its own, fanned and fueled by the two hungry mouths feeding it.
They broke part at last with overwhelmed gasps. Edward felt exactly the same as he had on the swings a week ago when he’d lost himself in their kiss, barely registering where they were or who might be watching. He wasn’t sure he liked how easily she made him lose control. Or maybe what troubled him was that she made him stop caring if he had any control to begin with.
Bella loved the feeling of him giving in, surrendering to the force that pulled them together. She had recognized its power that first night and given herself over to it. But she’d had to tell him to let go the first time he came inside her. If she had to coax him to be free with her again, she would.
She trailed her hands down his warm, musky skin to the closure of his shorts. She looked up at him as she undid the button and unzipped the fly.
“And what color are your swim trunks, Mister Cullen?” Her eyebrow raised quizzically. “What complements my virginal white?”
She took a peek down at the nylon fabric beneath his khaki shorts, then returned her gaze to his.
“Basic black,” she announced. “Classic.”
His half-smile was twisted. “Don’t you mean ‘villainous?’”
“You’re not a villain.”
“Are you sure about that? The bad guys always wear black.”
“Johnny Cash wore black.”
“Johnny Cash went to prison,” he pointed out.
“He also loved one woman with everything he had until his dying breath. That’s good enough for me.”
Bella was almost as shocked at her words as Edward was. It was far too soon for that kind of truth. But she couldn’t quite regret saying it, even though the meaning was a double-edged sword, considering his current line of work.
Edward wondered why he continued to be thrown by her blunt honesty. He should have come to expect it by now. And though it often left him speechless, it was one of his favorite things about her.
As the silence veered toward awkwardness, Bella looked for a way to steer the conversation back to the easy banter they’d shared before.
“Besides, I think you’ve forgotten one crucial thing,” she said. She grabbed the waistband of his sagging shorts and tugged until they fell to the sand. She eyed him up and down and announced, “Black is sexy. And it’s the perfect counterpoint to white. They balance each other out.”
His smile was wry. “The darkness and the light.”
“You can’t have one without the other.”
“I guess not,” he conceded. “I’ll let you light my way, then, Miss Swan.”
She smiled at this, and so did he. His gazed drifted down her porcelain skin and its matching swim bra, then stopped at the incongruous blue of her shorts. He slid his hands over the waistband and deftly undid the button. “Now let’s see the rest of this white bikini of yours,” he said as he slowly pulled at the zipper. He tried pushing the material down, but the jeans clung stubbornly to her hips. “You’d better do this yourself. I’ll end up taking the bottom of your swimsuit off with the shorts, and then I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Bella grinned up at his wicked smirk as she carefully peeled her shorts over her bikini. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Both,” he replied as his eyes followed the path of her hands gliding over the curve of her thighs.
“Well, then, that gives me something to look forward to.”
Edward shook his head at her flirtation. “That’s a pretty bold statement coming from someone who’s afraid to take her swimsuit off in public.”
Bella looked up and down the beach. The closest person was many yards away, and would never be able to see them if they were to nestle into their rock-and-driftwood nook, surrounded by the tall grasses leading up to the bluff. She took Edward’s hand and sat on the quilt, pulling him down next to her. They were mostly hidden from view, save for the opening to the beach with its tide lapping ever closer.
“Seems pretty private to me,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. His jaw was rough with its perpetual stubble, and she wondered how many minutes it took after shaving for his hair follicles to spring to life.
His hand mimicked hers, finding her cheek quickly, but feeling only smooth silk beneath his fingers. Their faces drew closer, mouths demanding another taste. Edward looked down at her flushed cheeks and came to his senses once more.
“Stop trying to distract me from saving your lily-white complexion,” he muttered into her parted lips as he watched her eyelashes close. “Suntan lotion, remember?”
Bella’s eyes popped back open in annoyance. “Killjoy,” she grumbled as she drew back with a sigh. She reached for her backpack and found the tube of sunscreen she’d packed inside, then waved it under his nose. “SPF 50. Are you happy?”
“Ecstatic. I can’t have any fun with you later if you’re all sunburned.” He flashed her a positively wicked grin and grabbed the sun-block out of her hand. He scooted around and knelt behind her, lifting her ponytail out of the way. Then he squeezed out a dollop of suntan cream and smeared it directly between Bella’s shoulder blades.
The cool wetness startled her, but she soon relaxed as Edward’s fingers spread the liquid over her skin and rubbed gently until it disappeared. He repeated the process with maddening languor all the way down her back, using both hands. Junior twitched sporadically as Edward ran his fingertips along the edge of her bikini, pausing to trace the dimples above her cheeks. He leaned in, lips close to her ear. “I love a girl with dimples.”
His words sent wildfire racing down her spine, his breath fanning the flames. She was trying to come up with a reply when he spoke again.
“Now lie down so I can do the backs of your legs.”
She was face down on the quilt before she even realized she’d moved, her body eagerly complying with his quiet demands. She shivered the moment she felt his slippery fingers on the back of her right calf, and the gooseflesh spread with the motion of his hand working up the back of her thigh. He stopped only when he reached the edge of her bathing suit, his fingers pushing at the fabric over her buttock before dipping precariously close to the sweet spot between her thighs.
She stifled a moan, her back arched and moisture pooled in her groin. Images began flashing through her mind, an erotic collage of various positions and sensations as she envisioned him spreading her open and entering her. No man had ever done this to her before - made her fantasize and yearn for him so shamelessly. He repeated the slow stroking of her left leg, up and down and in between. She felt herself lengthen and arch even more into the pressure of his hand.
Touch me, she wanted to beg. Slide your fingers in, deep. She wondered if he could sense the desire seizing her, stretching her body into a tight rubber band beneath his touch. She couldn’t know that the man hovering over her was a perfect mirror of her in that moment: the same rampant thoughts and wants flooding him; tempting him to throw all caution to the wind, remove her swimsuit and take her from behind.
He took a deep breath instead and knelt down, placing his mouth to her ear again.
“Do you want me to do the front?”
The huskiness of his voice was impossible to miss. She turned her head to look at his face close to hers and saw the same lust-filled gaze he’d given her on the couch two weeks ago. He had asked her then to give up her inhibitions for him. She responded now by silently rolling toward him until she was on her back, looking up at him with undisguised longing. The invitation in her eyes couldn’t have been more clear.
His answer was even clearer. His eyes wandered freely over every inch of her as she lay before him; his hands and thoughts soon followed. He slathered every inch of ivory skin with sunscreen, gratefully revisiting the hills and valleys he’d feared he would never travel again.
“Do you know what this reminds me of?” he asked at last, his fingers splayed over her belly, smoothing the creamy lotion into her skin. A cloud had drifted across the sun overhead, blocking its glare so that Bella’s eyes could meet Edward’s without squinting.
“The shower,” she answered.
He nodded and moved his fingers gently up her sternum, then back and forth across the soft swells of her chest.
“I was so afraid then that I’d never get to touch you like this again.”
She let out a noise of disbelief. “You couldn’t have been as afraid as I was. And it’s not like I have so many other options. Not that I’d want them.”
It was his turn to snort softly. “You have more options than you know.” He thought of the boys who’d walked her home last weekend. And the boys she probably didn’t even realize had looked at her, thought of her, the way he was right now.
“They pale in comparison,” she replied. She couldn’t imagine Mike or Jake coming close to being this sensual, this compelling. She was nearly in a trance at the feel of Edward’s fingers trailing along the nape of her neck, his liquid azure eyes leading the way. His hand closed softly around her neck, cupping her chin, holding her head immobile as he leaned down and stared into her eyes.
“Are you saying you want only me?”
Something between a laugh and a sob was strangled beneath his gentle grip. “Only you,” she repeated in a thin whisper.
His thumb reached up and traced the contour of her lower lip. He suddenly cracked a wry smile. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
She mustered a weak smile in response. “Yeah. I know.”
“Lucky for me,” he murmured, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers. “You deserve so much more.” He kissed her again, and she struggled to return it; but his hand impeded her efforts. “And I deserve a hell of a lot less.”
He frowned slightly and pulled back, releasing her long enough to squeeze more lotion onto his fingertips. Then he leaned over and gingerly applied tiny dollops to her cheeks, forehead, and the tip of her nose and chin. He gently stroked both hands over every inch of her face, swirling the cream into her flushed, satiny skin. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she was to him. Surely it was written all over his face as he studied hers.
Bella gazed up at him in wonder. She had never felt so cared for in her life. He looked at her almost reverently, as though she was something to be cherished. And when he was finished, he knelt and kissed her softly again, several times, his lips sweet and damp and delicious.
“There,” he pronounced, propping his hands on either side of her head as he viewed his handiwork. “Now you won’t get burned.”
The metaphor resonated between them for a bittersweet moment. Edward’s brows furrowed at the implication. But Bella couldn’t help but smile at the big puffs of clouds that were now drifting across the sky behind his head.
“Figures that the clouds would roll in, now that you’ve got me covered,” she said.
He glanced up at the sky, then back down at the reflection of it in her eyes. “You can still get burned on a cloudy day. Better safe than sorry.”
“True. So we’d better get some lotion on this pink skin of yours,” she said, reaching up to stroke his face. She propped herself up and reached for the tube of sunscreen lying on the quilt beside them. Edward sat back, cross-legged, and waited expectantly.
“Where to begin. . .?” she mused, looking him over. She’d dreamed of running her hands over his body every night for the past two weeks. She could hardly believe the dream was about to come true once more.
“I think it’s time for connect the dots,” she decided, crawling behind Edward and kneeling there. Instead of squeezing the lotion into her hand, she aimed the tube directly at his back and squirted a long trail down his spine.
“Shit!” he exclaimed in surprise.
Bella only laughed at his discomfort. “Don’t be a wuss,” she ordered. Then she dove into the cream with both hands and began spreading it in every direction, firmly massaging his muscles up and down, back and forth, as she went.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, sinking into the pressure of her fingers. “Why didn’t tell me you gave such good back rubs?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I’ll probably be begging for one every time I see you from now on.” He broke off in a moan at the feel of her fingers kneading his shoulders.
“I could get into that,” she teased. The truth was, she was loving every minute of the rubdown as much as he was. The masculine strength of his muscle and bone beneath her exploring hands only galvanized her desire for him. By the time she had finished stroking the rippling muscles of his arms, she could think of nothing but what they’d look like holding his torso aloft while he repeatedly thrust his cock inside her.
She took one last look at his back and made good on her promise to “connect the dots.” She touched her index finger to the bottom-most beauty mark on Edward’s back, near the waistband of his swim trunks; then slowly zigzagged up his torso, following the freckled path to his neck. She stopped at the tiny brown spot behind his right ear, then leaned in and pressed her lips to his skin. Her mouth continued the trek from there, moving softly across the nape of his neck to a matched set of beauty marks on the left. She planted her lips there and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.
His head leaned into hers; his hands crept up to encircle her wrists as she held him. He wanted to say something, but words evaded him. He closed his eyes and reveled in the bliss of that moment.
“You feel so good,” she whispered in his ear, hugging him closer.
He wanted to argue with her, to tell her that the pleasure must certainly be all his as she melted against him. “You feel amazing,” was all he could manage. “You’re too good to me.”
“I’m just getting started,” she replied, her voice barreling down his spine like a shot of whiskey and settling, molten, at the base of his groin.
She let go and moved to crouch in front of him, pulling at his legs to uncross them. He leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs so she could go to work, rubbing sunscreen into him one maddening limb at a time.
Her eyes drifted back and forth from the pale brown hair of his shins to the matching lashes that framed his eyes. As the sun peeked out from behind one cloud after the next, Edward’s eyes faded from blue to green to gray, kaleidoscopes whose colorful focus never faltered from her. She watched them darken slightly under heavy lids when she perched between his calves and slowly slid her hands up the sinews of his thighs. His lips parted, his breath coming fast, as she neared his crotch. She decided she would show him no mercy - not after the intimate way he’d touched her moments ago.
She worked her hands under the legs of his swim trunks until they reached the crease of his thighs, then pressed her thumbs inward, dangerously close to the family jewels. Her eyes never left his, but she knew if she looked down, she would see the proof of his arousal. His face evidenced it well enough, nostrils flaring slightly, lips twitching, eyes burning. She wanted to grab his erection right through its nylon cover and pump until Edward groaned.
But no, she would have to cultivate patience now. The kind he’d exercised with her their first night together, teasing her to the brink of insanity with his studied sexual prowess. She withdrew her hands and picked up the bottle of suntan lotion again, shaking it before aiming at his chest. She jettisoned the cream onto him in an absurdly blatant sexual innuendo that made them both laugh. And then her hands were on him again, quickly transforming the humor into something serious by the time she was done.
She took her time rubbing him down, fingers lazily exploring, then insistently probing every ripple of muscle beneath his supple flesh. The rhythm of his shallow breaths, the tensing of his belly, the swelling of his cock against his swim trunks - all of these were irresistible aphrodisiacs to Bella. They were proof of her affect on him - proof of his desire for her. Proof that she wasn’t just another notch in his belt. But the biggest testament lay in his eyes, in that relentless stare that never wavered. She was the only thing he saw. The only thing he wanted.
This was what she told herself. And this was what Edward wanted to tell her, if only he could utter the words.
But he was silent while she touched his face, caressing him as he had her, searching every plane and hollow, tracing and memorizing hallowed ground. He felt reverence in her fingertips, in her warm breath mingling with his. He saw it in her eyes, drinking him in. Insatiable, like his own.
She wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, but the words seemed silly and ineffectual. There were no words for this kind of need. And so she chose the wordless communication of a kiss, pressing her hungry lips to his.
His answer was immediate, overwhelming them both. He kissed her deeply, almost savagely, his tongue seeking hers in mutual communion. His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her against him, pulling her down to the quilt. She sighed in triumph as she fell atop him, fingers twisting in his hair while his hands gripped her back, pressing her closer. Their kiss grew frenzied, mouths devouring and moaning at the taste. Their bodies struggled to become one, limbs tangling, hands grabbing for possession.
They rolled to one side, facing each other, torsos undulating together in the telltale rhythm belying their need to join together. Bella pushed her thigh between his until the hardness of his erection dug into her hip. She ground herself against him, rubbing harder until she eked a groan from his lips.
“Fuck,” he swore. “We can’t do this here.”
“Why not?” she demanded in a throaty whisper. Her lips scraped haphazardly along his prickly jaw, back toward the tender lobe of his ear. “No one’s watching.”
His fingers wound through her hair and massaged her scalp, oblivious to the words that came from his lips. “Bella, you were afraid of getting arrested just for public nudity. I guarantee you we will get arrested for public fornication.”
“Fornication?” she repeated with a giggle. “Sounds so dirty when you say it. Say it again,” she taunted, bringing her lips to his once more. “Fornicate me, Edward.”
He half-laughed, half-growled in frustration, one hand traveling down to her hip, fingers gripping her ass and squeezing. She responded by tilting her pelvis into his once more. “Fornicate you?” he rasped. “Oh, I intend to. I promise I will fornicate the hell out of you, later. In private.”
But his body wasn’t listening. Neither was hers. They rocked in time once more, kissing and fondling and grasping at one another with more desperation than before. Their hands found their way under one another’s swim suits, squeezing firm buttocks and teasing engorged sex. Edward released Bella’s ass long enough to reach up to her swim top and pull the fabric aside until hard nipples were released to his waiting mouth. She wound her hands in his hair as he suckled her, back and forth, until both breasts were taut and wet. Her moan drew the attention of his mouth and he returned to kiss her again, tongue probing rhythmically, deeper, stroking, mimicking. God, how she wanted to feel that tongue between her legs.
She moaned again and reached down, sliding her hand between them, under the waistband of his trunks. His cock sprang into her waiting fingers, eager for her touch. She gripped him firmly and pumped in time with the motion of his tongue against hers until he groaned and gasped, breaking their kiss.
“Fuck,” he swore again softly. “What you do to me. . .”
His words blazed through her, fuel to an already raging fire. “Touch me and feel what you do to me,” she entreated.
Her eyes were fathomless in the shadow of the gathering clouds over head. Dark, impenetrable. He wanted nothing more than to penetrate, to break through, to be inside her once more. And she was practically begging him to do so. How lucky a bastard could he be?
He reached over and grabbed the edge of the quilt from behind her, drawing it over their bodies, sheltering them from the errant glances of anyone who might wander by. Then he slid his hand slowly over the swell of her half-exposed breasts, down the flat length of her naked belly, until he reached the edge of her bikini. He pushed the material down, probing, spreading her lips until he felt her wetness. She cried out softly as he curled his fingers into her, pushing the middle one into her damp opening, then deeper and deeper, all the way. She sighed and reached inside his swim trunks once more, sliding her hand along the length of his cock, gripping the base, teasing his balls.
Their eyes met and locked, so close they could count eyelashes. Their breath blended into a steamy cloud that hovered between them as they lay face-to-face, hand-to-sex. And joined this way, they began an intimate pas de deux. Theirs was a dance of pleasure, hands working diligently together: hers gripping and stroking, his searching and plunging deep. Their lungs kept perfect time, breathing in sync with the movement of their busy hands.
Edward wanted to say something; to tell her how incredible she felt. How lucky he was to plunder those soft, wet ridges inside her; to stretch her tight walls with his fingers and reach so deep that he felt like he might touch her soul somehow. Her eyes reflected that search, that longing for more than just the friction of flesh against flesh. Her gaze told him the search had ended right here and now. He knew it with certainty as he reached even further, plumbing her depths with more urgency, utterly entranced by the sound and feel of her arousal against his fingers.
Her breaths became punctuated by soft cries as he increased the pace, his hand relentlessly working her wet pussy until her belly went rigid in preparation for its impending release. She responded by grasping his cock and pumping it more furiously, trying to keep up with the fingers buried inside her. Glassy eyes mirrored each other’s lust, eyelids closing more frequently, brows furrowing and lips parting with passion and need.
How could such a thorough invasion feel so overwhelming, yet so utterly welcome at the same time? Bella marveled at this as Edward’s hand relentlessly possessed her, fucking her to the point of madness, of utter surrender, of ultimate ecstasy. She squeezed her lids shut as her eyes rolled back and her body arched like a cat in heat. She was coming, and the burn raging through her groin made her cry out for deliverance. Her muscles contracted around the source of their frenzy, gripping Edward’s fingers in shockwaves of pleasure that had her sobbing and panting helplessly into his face so close to hers.
He stared in wonder at the intensity of her orgasm - the feel of her body trembling and bucking at his mercy. Her cries were matched by one of his own when her hand gripped his cock and squeezed mindlessly as she came. Oh, but it hurt so good, to buckle under her pressure as she just had under his.
She relaxed her grip on him as the waves of euphoria diminished and radiated dully through her body. Her eyes opened at last and settled in grateful awe upon his. Her breathing slowed, coming in longer and longer gusts that fanned gently across his face.
“What you do to me. . .” she quoted, her voice as spent as the rest of her. She felt his hand move slowly inside her, gentle and calming, until he finally pulled out. He closed his fingers around her hip and leaned in to kiss her. His lips were as soft and soothing as his fingers had just been. He was nothing less than perfection, driving her over the edge and then bringing her back with sweet assurance.
But what of his assurance? This was no time for slowing down. Not when his manhood begged for satisfaction in the sweaty palm of her hand. She moved to finish what she’d started, building once more from slow, sensual strokes to quick, hard pumps at the tip of his swollen shaft. His breathing soon caught up, labored and uneven, while she worked him with increasing speed. His eyes were dark and desperate as they stared into hers. He wanted release, and she would stop at nothing to give it to him.
She pushed the quilt down just enough to free him. Then she raised up, scooted down and knelt over him, taking the tip of his erection into her mouth. He groaned and fell back at the feel of her lips closing around him and pushing down the length of his cock until it met the back of her throat. He swore and winced in ecstasy at the sensation. How could she be this way - so ready, even eager, to swallow him whole? He marveled anew at the vigor with which she attacked him, using both hands and every part of her mouth to stroke and lick and suck him until it felt like every fluid in his body had been drawn into that single, throbbing rod of flesh.
“God. . . please,” he begged hoarsely, his hands threading their way into her hair while her head bobbed up and down. The sun teased him just as mercilessly, peeking out from its cloud cover every few seconds to make him close his eyes against the blinding light. He was going to come, and he didn’t even want to warn her. He wanted her to gorge herself on his cum, to drink down every drop and love it as if it were nectar of the gods. What a sick, arrogant bastard he was to crave that, he thought.
But Bella thought no such thing. She wanted the bitter taste every bit as much as he did. She wasn’t sure why. All she knew was that she felt more powerful and utterly sexual in this moment than she had the first time she’d knelt before him and taken him in her mouth.
She turned her head to look at him; he raised his to return the gaze. Then she slowly ran her tongue up the underside of his cock, grabbed the base in her hand, and swirled the head all around her mouth. She slapped the shaft against her tongue a few times before closing her lips around him again, pushing down, opening her throat and letting him in. She wanted him deep - as deep as his fingers had been inside her. The sound of his incredulous moan thrilled her down to the marrow. She began moving her lips up and down, pulling him in and letting him out, faster and faster, until his groin tensed beneath her. His breath caught, his hands tightened in her hair, and she braced herself for the explosion.
The sun broke free of its gray shroud at that moment, blinding Edward as his ecstatic eyes rolled skyward. He clamped his lids shut, but still felt the heat of the sun as he came. He groaned at the warmth radiating through him: on the surface of his skin, in his frantic beats of his heart, in the spasms of his groin; but most of all, in the wetness of her mouth cradling his cock, filling with hot liquid before she swallowed and lapped up more. Her lips and tongue pulled stream after stream of ejaculate from his pulsating dick, and moan after helpless moan from his throat. This was beyond ecstasy. Beyond sex. Beyond the realm of physical limitations he’d known before.
As he watched Bella cover his belly with soft kisses afterward, he felt a peace he’d never experienced. Her hands and lips roamed idly up his torso while his fingers played with locks of her hair. When she paused at the largest mole on his body, the one in the middle of his stomach, he cringed. He’d always considered the dark brown protrusion an eyesore, even jokingly referring to it on occasion as his third nipple. She ran a thoughtful finger over its oval contours while he waited for her to make her own crack about the imperfection.
Instead, she bowed her head and kissed it. He felt her tongue glide over the skin, tracing and tickling the aberration with the same reverence she’d shown the rest of him. She even smiled at the ugly thing, then at him.
And that was the moment Edward realized he was falling in love with Bella Swan.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Chapter 26
How were your classes today?
Bella grinned as broadly at the text message on her phone today as she had every other day this week. It arrived at approximately 4:45 p.m. Thursday, just as it had on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Edward was nothing if not methodical.
They were good, she typed, thumbs flying over the tiny keyboard. Same as Tuesday’s classes, you realize. But less overwhelming since I knew what to expect.
The first week of class is always the hardest, he replied.
I know. Feels like an insurmountable pile of homework when I look at the syllabus for the whole semester. But I always manage to get it all done.
My cousin is a freshman, so she’s feeling overwhelmed, too. I reminded her it takes a little time to get into the routine. You’re both smart girls - you’ll do fine.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bella answered. She was dying to ask Edward if Alice had mentioned meeting her, but since Alice hadn’t called her yet and Edward never brought it up, she assumed the answer was “no.”
Edward’s next message made a little surge of excitement rush through her. Do you have to work all weekend?
No, I have Sunday off. She had intended to use that time to study, but if Edward had any other ideas in mind, she’d crack the books the rest of the weekend instead. She wasn’t interested in repeating last weekend’s party fiasco anyway, so laying low Friday and Saturday night didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Really? I‘m free Sunday, too. Do you want to get together? We could go to a movie or something - whatever you like.
The adrenaline was pumping through Bella’s veins full throttle now. Sounds great. If it’s nice we could go to the park again, or the beach. Didn’t your profile say you enjoy running on the beach? I don’t run, per se, but I’d be happy to watch you do it. I could time you on a stopwatch or something.
She paused to imagine the lean muscles of Edward’s legs pumping up and down in slow motion, Baywatch style, kicking sand up behind him. Her mind was still preoccupied when the phone buzzed with his incoming text.
Either one sounds good to me. But if I’m running, you’re running with me.
Ugh. How about a leisurely stroll, then?
You’re forcing me to type “LOL.” I hate that. Strolling it is. I’m going to spend the next few days imagining you strolling in a bikini. Please tell me you’ll be wearing one.
Bella would have stood up and done a euphoric little dance if she wasn’t sitting on a bench in the middle of the busy quad.
Fine. I’ll wear my bikini if you wear your little black Speedo, she typed back, chuckling to herself. She laughed even harder at how long it took him to reply.
You’re kidding, right?
What do you think?
I think you’re in for a soaking when I toss you in the Sound.
Bring it on, Cullen. I’m not afraid of you.
You may live to regret that, Ms. Swan. What time shall I pick you up?
From my dorm, or to toss me into the Sound?
Your dorm. I’ll definitely be employing the element of surprise for the latter.
Any time is fine, she replied, laughing giddily and not caring who heard. She wanted to tell him to come first thing in the morning so they could spend as much time together as possible, but she didn’t want to sound too pathetic and needy.
How about 1:00 p.m.? I thought we could grab some dinner later, too - after you‘ve dried off.
Her leg began bouncing up and down with anticipation as she typed. Sounds great. But if you try to dunk me in that icy water, I’m dragging you down with me.
I look forward to seeing you try.
I look forward to seeing you, period. So much for not sounding desperate.
Me too. Trust me on that.
She did trust him on that, foolish as that might be. She knew if she was counting on logic to guide her in this unorthodox relationship she was forming with Edward, she was doomed to failure. Logic would have dictated that she abandon the idea the day after he accomplished what she paid him to. But rational thinking had nothing to do with the emotions seizing her every time she saw him or even thought about him. If she couldn’t walk away, then she had no choice but to follow her heart for as long as she was able.
She had already run the gamut of emotions over the past week while she considered whether or not she could deal with what Edward did for a living. She figured she’d already hit rock bottom last weekend, from her behavior at the party and the mortifying hangover it caused her, to her failed date with Mike and her late-night anxiety over the course Edward’s date had taken.
Sunday was a little better, since she had work to distract her. And of course there was the pleasant surprise of meeting Edward’s cousin Alice, who seemed nice, if a bit of a trip. Bella had the feeling she would like her if she got the chance to know her. She was a little disappointed that Alice hadn’t contacted her yet. She looked forward to being able to talk to someone, anyone, about Edward. Heaven knows she wasn’t about admit to her mom and dad what she’d done, and her best friend from high school, Angela, was still in Europe studying at the Sorbonne.
Bella was grateful when classes started on Monday, because her concentration was consumed by lectures, note-taking, required reading and homework. She didn’t have time to think about what Edward was doing, and each day that passed without seeing him made the wondering a little easier to handle, and the worrying a little less.
But she knew that once she saw him again, the hunger and yearning for him would ignite deep in her belly once more. It still visited her in the wee hours of the night, prompting her to stoke it, then extinguish it, with her own probing fingers in the absence of his. She refused to look at the contents of the pink plastic baggy, let alone use them. She would wait for the real thing.
And now, happily, she had a deadline for her waiting to be through. Two days and twenty hours, to be exact.
She settled back on the bench and pulled her art history textbook out of her backpack. She opened it to chapter one and was greeted with photographs of the first known sculpture of a human figure, the Venus of Hohle Fels, which predated the previously known oldest carving, the Venus of Willendorf. Small but explicit depictions of the nude female form, both were thought to have been created as fertility symbols by primitive peoples tens of thousands of years ago.
Some things never changed, it seemed. As she studied the photos of the crude renderings, she understood her own desires a little better. What she felt for Edward was as primal and enduring as these miniature stone tributes to the power and importance of sex. The ancient urge to mate was what had driven her to seek him out in the first place.
But there was something more than sex pulling her back to him, and obviously something beyond sex drawing him to her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be going to the effort to see her again. She would have to concentrate on the attraction they shared beyond the physical if she were to continue seeing Edward. She needed to know more about him - his history, his motivations, his goals, his dreams. She wanted more than just the glimpses he’d given, or she’d managed to steal. She wanted his whole story, past and present. But most of all, she wanted his future.
She only wondered if she could survive the journey to get there.
# # # # # # # # # #
“So,” Alice mumbled through a generous mouthful of blueberry pancakes. “I met your friend Bella the other day at the book store.”
She flashed Edward a quick glance across the breakfast bar to make sure he looked as startled and guilty as she expected him to. Then she blithely turned her attention to her glass of orange juice, taking a gulp to wash down her food before spearing another forkful of pancakes.
“You met Bella?” he echoed warily, waiting until he’d swallowed his own mouthful before speaking. He knew his cousin had gone to the U-Dub book store on Sunday, and it was now Friday morning. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I was waiting to see if you’d mention her again. You actually looked happy for once before you went to see her, but then you never said another word about her. I guess you aren’t as into her as she is you.”
She shrugged nonchalantly and sipped more orange juice while she waited for him to take the bait.
“How do you know - “ he began, then started over. “What did she say that made you think she‘s into me?”
Alice laughed. “She didn’t have to say anything. Her face turned ten shades of red when I told her how happy you looked last Friday morning before you met her for breakfast - happier than I‘d seen you in a long time.”
She smiled sweetly at her cousin and watched his own face color.
“You told her that? Thanks. That was subtle.”
Her grin only stretched wider. “You’re welcome. You know I don’t believe in subtlety. It’s the seed that sprouts miscommunication and misunderstanding. So don’t go telling me this Bella girl is just some friend of yours. You look as twitter-pated right now as she did, and that’s all I need to know. But I am curious as to how you fell for one of your customers,” she finished with an inquisitive look.
Edward shook his head. He should have known better than to ever outwit his baby cousin. “And how do you know she’s a customer?”
“She saw my name on my student I.D. and asked if I was related to Edward Cullen. I told her you were my brother, to see how much she knew about you. She knew enough to know you don’t have a sister, but not enough to know your real last name. Which leads me to believe she knows you better than most of your customers do, but not well enough to know all your secrets. Yet,” she added portentously.
He let out a soft snort. “Excellent work, Sherlock. So what do you plan to do with your findings?”
“Good question. I did get her phone number, but I haven’t called her yet. And I won’t, if you’re not cool with it.” She wondered if she could really keep that promise. If it looked like Edward was about to fuck this up, and chances were excellent that he would, then she wasn’t above intervening to help him in spite of himself.
He shook his head once more. “Do whatever you like. I know damned well I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop her. He had what Alice might call “a warm fuzzy” when he thought of his closest relative befriending Bella.
“So true,” Alice agreed with a self-congratulatory smile. “I will definitely call her, then, when I get a minute. But right now my head is spinning with all the homework I already have. And I’m working a lot of hours this weekend, too.”
“Tell the restaurant you need to cut back a little now. I don’t want your grades to suffer. School is your number one priority right now. Let me worry about the rest.”
“You worry enough already. If I can’t handle the load, I’ll tell Sophia, I promise. But I won‘t tell her about Bella and crush her hopes. Not until I get a chance to scope this girl out and see if she‘s cool.”
Edward let out something between a chuckle and a groan. “Great. I thought that with Mom and Dad gone, I’d avoid having any future girlfriends interrogated and judged for suitability. But you may actually be worse than they would have been.”
Alice ignored the insult and zeroed in on the admission. “So you are considering her as a girlfriend! Holy shit, Edward. This is huge. Do you even realize?” She had stopped eating altogether and was staring at him in huge, hazel-eyed shock. “You don’t do the girlfriend thing. You never have. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you even utter the word. Wow. She must have done some number on you. Now I really do need to meet her. I want to know how she did it.”
“Christ,” he muttered, pushing his mostly-empty plate away. “I think your time would be better spent worrying about your own love life. The point will probably be moot, anyway, since I’m sure that sooner or later, Bella won’t be able to put up with my occupation any better than your sainted Sophia or any other normal girl would.”
He bolted from his seat, gathered his dirty dishes and headed for the dishwasher, half-ignoring Alice’s impassioned reply.
“All the more reason for you to quit! We can get by on less, Edward. People do it all the time. They clip coupons, shop in discount stores and resale shops -”
“We already do that,” he interrupted in a mutter.
“ - and live in much less expensive places. Think how much we could save if we sold this house, and all these old antiques. Em doesn’t even remember the significance of this stuff anymore.”
“I remember,” Edward shot back, slamming the dishwasher door shut. “Maybe you don’t have any memories of our family - you were too young - but I do. We’ve already lost everyone we love, Alice. I’ll be damned if I let everything they ever worked for slip away, too.”
“But these are just things, Edward,” she argued. “They can’t take the place of the people we lost. And we can’t lose our family completely, anyway. They’re in our hearts forever. Besides, do you really think your mother or father would’ve wanted you to sacrifice everything the way you have, just to keep a bunch of inanimate objects in our possession? They probably would have rather seen you living in a cardboard box as long as you were following your passion instead of throwing it all away.”
Edward was seething now, smarting from her jab at his most sensitive spot. “Trust me, I know very well they would not have agreed with my choices. And maybe the rash decision I made wasn’t the best one. But I won’t feel guilty for taking care of our grandmother after all she went through and all she did for us. I won’t feel guilty for saving the house our ancestors built. I won’t feel guilty for trying to hang onto the only thing that gives me a sense of family or stability anymore.”
“I’m not saying you should feel guilty. I’m just saying maybe it’s time to look for a different way, now that things are a little more under control, that’s all,” she pleaded.
“Things are under control because of the money I make, Alice. If I were playing the piano for peanuts instead, you’d be living in Kentucky right now with your mother’s second cousin, and Em would be tied to a bed in the dementia wing of some understaffed state-run nursing home.”
“You don’t know that,” she retorted, trying not to roll her eyes at the worst-case scenario he painted. “You have so much talent, Edward. You have no idea how far you could have gone if you’d stuck with it the past two years.”
Edward emitted a woeful laugh. “I love that you have that kind of faith in me, Alice, I really do. But you don’t know what I saw, what I heard. Guys like me are a dime a dozen at Juilliard. I practiced fucking night and day just to keep my scholarships. I fought tooth and nail for every solo, every opportunity to stand out from the crowd. To stay at that competitive level would have taken a lot more time and energy than I could give after Em got so sick.”
Alice took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the ceiling, perhaps looking for strength from a higher power. “All right, fine. You win." She dropped her head in defeat. She was weary of this battle. They’d had the same argument repeatedly for two years, and he always had more justifications for his choices than she had energy to refute them. She was just glad that he hadn’t defended himself by reminding her that at least he wasn’t selling drugs or pimping out women for money. Of course, she didn’t see how pimping himself was so different.
But Edward did. This way, he reasoned, he was only hurting himself. And that helped him sleep a little better at night. Or it did, before he met Bella.
He sighed heavily and took a stab at changing the subject. “Do you have any classes today?”
“Just one - lecture hall for Western Civ. Then I’ll probably study at the library for a while before work.”
She didn’t bother to ask what he was doing because she figured she wouldn’t want to hear the answer. She still wasn’t looking at him; she concentrated on her breakfast instead.
“Sounds like a plan,” Edward said lamely. He ran his fingers awkwardly through his hair and headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later, then. Be safe. I love you.”
Alice mumbled incoherently but still didn’t look up. He wandered into the living room and, as always, the empty space where the piano used to be yawned like a black hole before him. His fingers continued to claw his hair restlessly, searching for their favorite outlet. He desperately needed the release.
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed one of the few client numbers he had in his possession, then paced the floor as it rang. The sound of her voice was sweet relief.
“Hi, it’s Edward. I’m sorry to bother you, but if you don’t have any plans today, would it be all right if I came over?”
# # # # # # # # # #
Charlotte Rhinehart checked herself in the mirror once more, feeling a bit foolish as she did so, but unable to stop herself. It wasn’t often that Edward invited himself over in between their usual visits, and when he did, it usually meant that he was upset about something. He would never say what, exactly, but the passionate, mournful music he chose to play always gave him away.
Today turned out to be no different. When he arrived, he gave her the briefest of hugs and a perfunctory greeting; then asked if he could sit at the piano for a while. She waved him away to the conservatory without reservation, then sat in the next room, as was her habit, so that she could enjoy the music without disrupting his concentration.
Today, that concentration was fierce. He attacked the keys as if he had a score to settle with them. Even to her untrained ears, the music was clearly challenging and wildly dissonant, its tones and rhythms changing constantly in a perfect sonic storm. He repeated several passages until they were perfect, scowling at his flubs, then smiling in grim satisfaction when he finally performed the entire piece flawlessly.
He was still sitting at the bench, taking deep breaths, hands gripping his knees when Charlotte entered the room and showered him with applause. He cocked one eyebrow at her and grinned.
“That was quite amazing. A very difficult piece, yes?”
“Yeah. I performed it for my final at Juilliard. I like to revisit it every now and then just to make sure I can still play it.”
“Ah. I was right,” Charlotte said with a satisfied smile as she rested an elbow atop the piano. “I assumed you’d attended some prestigious music school the first time I heard you play.”
Edward looked a bit surprised. “I guess I never told you that, huh? Sorry. It’s not something I really like to talk about.”
“Your fingers do the talking for you,” she replied. “That was truly masterful, my dear. And I’m not talking about the technical perfection, either. I’m talking about the passion, the fury you put into every note. It’s nothing short of astonishing. Music is all about feeling, and that’s where you truly shine. You don’t let the technique interfere with the emotion. That’s what allows the music to soar and transcend the notes. Do you know what I’m saying?”
Edward looked up at her in wonder. “I know exactly what you’re saying. Ironically, I think that I’ve gotten better at that since I quit school and don’t get to play as much. It forces me to channel all my frustration into something more powerful, I guess.”
“Perhaps life’s trials have given you more empathy to the human condition, and that only enriches the music that comes out of you. Another sad irony, that suffering can create great art.”
“So they say,” Edward agreed with a rueful smile. “Maybe I should be grateful for the hard knocks, then?” He snorted softly.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Happiness can create great art, too, as far as I’m concerned. And I’d certainly like to see you get your fair share. Certainly no one deserves it more.”
“I think that’s debatable,” he countered darkly.
Charlotte gave him a warning look that prompted him to explain himself.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I feel like I keep making them. Maybe I’m just reaping what I’ve sown.”
“Good heavens, are you trying to tell me you’re human?” she retorted with a sly grin. “I’ll get the guillotine ready, then. Mistakes are unforgivable. Not only do you not deserve happiness, I’m not altogether sure you deserve to live.”
Edward laughed in spite of himself. “All right, fine. Point taken. You always make me smile, Charlotte, you know that?”
“It works both ways,” she replied, beaming herself. “Now, would you like to tell me what happened between this week and last? You were high as a kite last Wednesday. This Wednesday, you barely spoke when you came over; you just sat at this piano for hours, which is fine by me. But this impromptu visit has me wondering what’s gone so wrong in the span of a few short days. Does it have something to do with that young girl you‘re interested in? What did you say her name was, again?”
“It’s Bella,” he answered with a smile before his forehead creased. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Or maybe everything is. She’s given me a lot to think about, I guess.”
Charlotte nodded. “Maybe a reevaluation of your life is in order. There are worse things than taking stock, you know.”
“I know. That’s what Alice says, too. But it’s happening so fast . . . I’m just not sure what to do.”
Her heart ached for the troubled young man before her. She wanted to wave a magic wand and take his pain away, if only he would let her.
“My offer still stands, you know,” she reminded him gently.
He still flinched at her words. “Thank you. I do appreciate that. But I’m not sure how that would really help anything. I’d just owe you instead of the bank. And before you tell me I don’t have to repay you, I don’t think I could live with myself if I just took a handout from you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, though she wanted to throttle him for his stubborn male pride. “Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking.”
He nodded, but still looked reluctant. She decided it was time to move on to a less touchy subject. “Would you like to play some more, or join me in a game? I’m in dire need of brushing up my poker skills. Your tutelage would come in handy, as I’m considering joining a card circle in the neighborhood.”
His face brightened. “You should definitely do that. You’re a natural. You’ve already got your poker face down, so the rest should be a cinch.”
“All right, then. Why don’t you fetch the card deck for us? It’s in the sitting room desk. I’ll join you shortly.”
She watched his tall, lanky form lope out of the conservatory, and shook her head at the slew of conflicting feelings he stirred within her. Above all, though, she longed to see him content. She suspected this Bella held the key to his happiness, if he could only see his way clear to letting her unlock it.
Bella. She wondered again if Edward’s crush was the same girl who’d nearly mowed her down outside the church Sunday, but was adorably apologetic about it afterward. She’d asked Pastor Tim about the girl, but he’d divined little about her, other than her first name and her appreciation for fine art. As soon as he’d told Charlotte the girl’s name, her interest had been piqued. She hoped Bella would return some Sunday so she could find out more about her.
Charlotte walked around the piano and pushed in the bench, then approached the bookcase behind it. She reached up to the highest shelf and retrieved a small recording device from between a long row of books. She checked to make sure it was working, then hit the “stop“ button, stifling a slightly devious grin. She supposed she ought to feel guilty for having secretly recorded several of Edward’s practice sessions, but she couldn’t quite seem to regret it. She’d enjoyed downloading and listening to his beautiful music in between visits, for one. But truth be told, she had a deeper motive behind her actions. She was merely waiting for the right moment to give him the nudge he needed.
She had decided long ago that if Edward refused to help himself, then she would.
Bella grinned as broadly at the text message on her phone today as she had every other day this week. It arrived at approximately 4:45 p.m. Thursday, just as it had on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Edward was nothing if not methodical.
They were good, she typed, thumbs flying over the tiny keyboard. Same as Tuesday’s classes, you realize. But less overwhelming since I knew what to expect.
The first week of class is always the hardest, he replied.
I know. Feels like an insurmountable pile of homework when I look at the syllabus for the whole semester. But I always manage to get it all done.
My cousin is a freshman, so she’s feeling overwhelmed, too. I reminded her it takes a little time to get into the routine. You’re both smart girls - you’ll do fine.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bella answered. She was dying to ask Edward if Alice had mentioned meeting her, but since Alice hadn’t called her yet and Edward never brought it up, she assumed the answer was “no.”
Edward’s next message made a little surge of excitement rush through her. Do you have to work all weekend?
No, I have Sunday off. She had intended to use that time to study, but if Edward had any other ideas in mind, she’d crack the books the rest of the weekend instead. She wasn’t interested in repeating last weekend’s party fiasco anyway, so laying low Friday and Saturday night didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Really? I‘m free Sunday, too. Do you want to get together? We could go to a movie or something - whatever you like.
The adrenaline was pumping through Bella’s veins full throttle now. Sounds great. If it’s nice we could go to the park again, or the beach. Didn’t your profile say you enjoy running on the beach? I don’t run, per se, but I’d be happy to watch you do it. I could time you on a stopwatch or something.
She paused to imagine the lean muscles of Edward’s legs pumping up and down in slow motion, Baywatch style, kicking sand up behind him. Her mind was still preoccupied when the phone buzzed with his incoming text.
Either one sounds good to me. But if I’m running, you’re running with me.
Ugh. How about a leisurely stroll, then?
You’re forcing me to type “LOL.” I hate that. Strolling it is. I’m going to spend the next few days imagining you strolling in a bikini. Please tell me you’ll be wearing one.
Bella would have stood up and done a euphoric little dance if she wasn’t sitting on a bench in the middle of the busy quad.
Fine. I’ll wear my bikini if you wear your little black Speedo, she typed back, chuckling to herself. She laughed even harder at how long it took him to reply.
You’re kidding, right?
What do you think?
I think you’re in for a soaking when I toss you in the Sound.
Bring it on, Cullen. I’m not afraid of you.
You may live to regret that, Ms. Swan. What time shall I pick you up?
From my dorm, or to toss me into the Sound?
Your dorm. I’ll definitely be employing the element of surprise for the latter.
Any time is fine, she replied, laughing giddily and not caring who heard. She wanted to tell him to come first thing in the morning so they could spend as much time together as possible, but she didn’t want to sound too pathetic and needy.
How about 1:00 p.m.? I thought we could grab some dinner later, too - after you‘ve dried off.
Her leg began bouncing up and down with anticipation as she typed. Sounds great. But if you try to dunk me in that icy water, I’m dragging you down with me.
I look forward to seeing you try.
I look forward to seeing you, period. So much for not sounding desperate.
Me too. Trust me on that.
She did trust him on that, foolish as that might be. She knew if she was counting on logic to guide her in this unorthodox relationship she was forming with Edward, she was doomed to failure. Logic would have dictated that she abandon the idea the day after he accomplished what she paid him to. But rational thinking had nothing to do with the emotions seizing her every time she saw him or even thought about him. If she couldn’t walk away, then she had no choice but to follow her heart for as long as she was able.
She had already run the gamut of emotions over the past week while she considered whether or not she could deal with what Edward did for a living. She figured she’d already hit rock bottom last weekend, from her behavior at the party and the mortifying hangover it caused her, to her failed date with Mike and her late-night anxiety over the course Edward’s date had taken.
Sunday was a little better, since she had work to distract her. And of course there was the pleasant surprise of meeting Edward’s cousin Alice, who seemed nice, if a bit of a trip. Bella had the feeling she would like her if she got the chance to know her. She was a little disappointed that Alice hadn’t contacted her yet. She looked forward to being able to talk to someone, anyone, about Edward. Heaven knows she wasn’t about admit to her mom and dad what she’d done, and her best friend from high school, Angela, was still in Europe studying at the Sorbonne.
Bella was grateful when classes started on Monday, because her concentration was consumed by lectures, note-taking, required reading and homework. She didn’t have time to think about what Edward was doing, and each day that passed without seeing him made the wondering a little easier to handle, and the worrying a little less.
But she knew that once she saw him again, the hunger and yearning for him would ignite deep in her belly once more. It still visited her in the wee hours of the night, prompting her to stoke it, then extinguish it, with her own probing fingers in the absence of his. She refused to look at the contents of the pink plastic baggy, let alone use them. She would wait for the real thing.
And now, happily, she had a deadline for her waiting to be through. Two days and twenty hours, to be exact.
She settled back on the bench and pulled her art history textbook out of her backpack. She opened it to chapter one and was greeted with photographs of the first known sculpture of a human figure, the Venus of Hohle Fels, which predated the previously known oldest carving, the Venus of Willendorf. Small but explicit depictions of the nude female form, both were thought to have been created as fertility symbols by primitive peoples tens of thousands of years ago.
Some things never changed, it seemed. As she studied the photos of the crude renderings, she understood her own desires a little better. What she felt for Edward was as primal and enduring as these miniature stone tributes to the power and importance of sex. The ancient urge to mate was what had driven her to seek him out in the first place.
But there was something more than sex pulling her back to him, and obviously something beyond sex drawing him to her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be going to the effort to see her again. She would have to concentrate on the attraction they shared beyond the physical if she were to continue seeing Edward. She needed to know more about him - his history, his motivations, his goals, his dreams. She wanted more than just the glimpses he’d given, or she’d managed to steal. She wanted his whole story, past and present. But most of all, she wanted his future.
She only wondered if she could survive the journey to get there.
# # # # # # # # # #
“So,” Alice mumbled through a generous mouthful of blueberry pancakes. “I met your friend Bella the other day at the book store.”
She flashed Edward a quick glance across the breakfast bar to make sure he looked as startled and guilty as she expected him to. Then she blithely turned her attention to her glass of orange juice, taking a gulp to wash down her food before spearing another forkful of pancakes.
“You met Bella?” he echoed warily, waiting until he’d swallowed his own mouthful before speaking. He knew his cousin had gone to the U-Dub book store on Sunday, and it was now Friday morning. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I was waiting to see if you’d mention her again. You actually looked happy for once before you went to see her, but then you never said another word about her. I guess you aren’t as into her as she is you.”
She shrugged nonchalantly and sipped more orange juice while she waited for him to take the bait.
“How do you know - “ he began, then started over. “What did she say that made you think she‘s into me?”
Alice laughed. “She didn’t have to say anything. Her face turned ten shades of red when I told her how happy you looked last Friday morning before you met her for breakfast - happier than I‘d seen you in a long time.”
She smiled sweetly at her cousin and watched his own face color.
“You told her that? Thanks. That was subtle.”
Her grin only stretched wider. “You’re welcome. You know I don’t believe in subtlety. It’s the seed that sprouts miscommunication and misunderstanding. So don’t go telling me this Bella girl is just some friend of yours. You look as twitter-pated right now as she did, and that’s all I need to know. But I am curious as to how you fell for one of your customers,” she finished with an inquisitive look.
Edward shook his head. He should have known better than to ever outwit his baby cousin. “And how do you know she’s a customer?”
“She saw my name on my student I.D. and asked if I was related to Edward Cullen. I told her you were my brother, to see how much she knew about you. She knew enough to know you don’t have a sister, but not enough to know your real last name. Which leads me to believe she knows you better than most of your customers do, but not well enough to know all your secrets. Yet,” she added portentously.
He let out a soft snort. “Excellent work, Sherlock. So what do you plan to do with your findings?”
“Good question. I did get her phone number, but I haven’t called her yet. And I won’t, if you’re not cool with it.” She wondered if she could really keep that promise. If it looked like Edward was about to fuck this up, and chances were excellent that he would, then she wasn’t above intervening to help him in spite of himself.
He shook his head once more. “Do whatever you like. I know damned well I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop her. He had what Alice might call “a warm fuzzy” when he thought of his closest relative befriending Bella.
“So true,” Alice agreed with a self-congratulatory smile. “I will definitely call her, then, when I get a minute. But right now my head is spinning with all the homework I already have. And I’m working a lot of hours this weekend, too.”
“Tell the restaurant you need to cut back a little now. I don’t want your grades to suffer. School is your number one priority right now. Let me worry about the rest.”
“You worry enough already. If I can’t handle the load, I’ll tell Sophia, I promise. But I won‘t tell her about Bella and crush her hopes. Not until I get a chance to scope this girl out and see if she‘s cool.”
Edward let out something between a chuckle and a groan. “Great. I thought that with Mom and Dad gone, I’d avoid having any future girlfriends interrogated and judged for suitability. But you may actually be worse than they would have been.”
Alice ignored the insult and zeroed in on the admission. “So you are considering her as a girlfriend! Holy shit, Edward. This is huge. Do you even realize?” She had stopped eating altogether and was staring at him in huge, hazel-eyed shock. “You don’t do the girlfriend thing. You never have. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you even utter the word. Wow. She must have done some number on you. Now I really do need to meet her. I want to know how she did it.”
“Christ,” he muttered, pushing his mostly-empty plate away. “I think your time would be better spent worrying about your own love life. The point will probably be moot, anyway, since I’m sure that sooner or later, Bella won’t be able to put up with my occupation any better than your sainted Sophia or any other normal girl would.”
He bolted from his seat, gathered his dirty dishes and headed for the dishwasher, half-ignoring Alice’s impassioned reply.
“All the more reason for you to quit! We can get by on less, Edward. People do it all the time. They clip coupons, shop in discount stores and resale shops -”
“We already do that,” he interrupted in a mutter.
“ - and live in much less expensive places. Think how much we could save if we sold this house, and all these old antiques. Em doesn’t even remember the significance of this stuff anymore.”
“I remember,” Edward shot back, slamming the dishwasher door shut. “Maybe you don’t have any memories of our family - you were too young - but I do. We’ve already lost everyone we love, Alice. I’ll be damned if I let everything they ever worked for slip away, too.”
“But these are just things, Edward,” she argued. “They can’t take the place of the people we lost. And we can’t lose our family completely, anyway. They’re in our hearts forever. Besides, do you really think your mother or father would’ve wanted you to sacrifice everything the way you have, just to keep a bunch of inanimate objects in our possession? They probably would have rather seen you living in a cardboard box as long as you were following your passion instead of throwing it all away.”
Edward was seething now, smarting from her jab at his most sensitive spot. “Trust me, I know very well they would not have agreed with my choices. And maybe the rash decision I made wasn’t the best one. But I won’t feel guilty for taking care of our grandmother after all she went through and all she did for us. I won’t feel guilty for saving the house our ancestors built. I won’t feel guilty for trying to hang onto the only thing that gives me a sense of family or stability anymore.”
“I’m not saying you should feel guilty. I’m just saying maybe it’s time to look for a different way, now that things are a little more under control, that’s all,” she pleaded.
“Things are under control because of the money I make, Alice. If I were playing the piano for peanuts instead, you’d be living in Kentucky right now with your mother’s second cousin, and Em would be tied to a bed in the dementia wing of some understaffed state-run nursing home.”
“You don’t know that,” she retorted, trying not to roll her eyes at the worst-case scenario he painted. “You have so much talent, Edward. You have no idea how far you could have gone if you’d stuck with it the past two years.”
Edward emitted a woeful laugh. “I love that you have that kind of faith in me, Alice, I really do. But you don’t know what I saw, what I heard. Guys like me are a dime a dozen at Juilliard. I practiced fucking night and day just to keep my scholarships. I fought tooth and nail for every solo, every opportunity to stand out from the crowd. To stay at that competitive level would have taken a lot more time and energy than I could give after Em got so sick.”
Alice took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the ceiling, perhaps looking for strength from a higher power. “All right, fine. You win." She dropped her head in defeat. She was weary of this battle. They’d had the same argument repeatedly for two years, and he always had more justifications for his choices than she had energy to refute them. She was just glad that he hadn’t defended himself by reminding her that at least he wasn’t selling drugs or pimping out women for money. Of course, she didn’t see how pimping himself was so different.
But Edward did. This way, he reasoned, he was only hurting himself. And that helped him sleep a little better at night. Or it did, before he met Bella.
He sighed heavily and took a stab at changing the subject. “Do you have any classes today?”
“Just one - lecture hall for Western Civ. Then I’ll probably study at the library for a while before work.”
She didn’t bother to ask what he was doing because she figured she wouldn’t want to hear the answer. She still wasn’t looking at him; she concentrated on her breakfast instead.
“Sounds like a plan,” Edward said lamely. He ran his fingers awkwardly through his hair and headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later, then. Be safe. I love you.”
Alice mumbled incoherently but still didn’t look up. He wandered into the living room and, as always, the empty space where the piano used to be yawned like a black hole before him. His fingers continued to claw his hair restlessly, searching for their favorite outlet. He desperately needed the release.
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed one of the few client numbers he had in his possession, then paced the floor as it rang. The sound of her voice was sweet relief.
“Hi, it’s Edward. I’m sorry to bother you, but if you don’t have any plans today, would it be all right if I came over?”
# # # # # # # # # #
Charlotte Rhinehart checked herself in the mirror once more, feeling a bit foolish as she did so, but unable to stop herself. It wasn’t often that Edward invited himself over in between their usual visits, and when he did, it usually meant that he was upset about something. He would never say what, exactly, but the passionate, mournful music he chose to play always gave him away.
Today turned out to be no different. When he arrived, he gave her the briefest of hugs and a perfunctory greeting; then asked if he could sit at the piano for a while. She waved him away to the conservatory without reservation, then sat in the next room, as was her habit, so that she could enjoy the music without disrupting his concentration.
Today, that concentration was fierce. He attacked the keys as if he had a score to settle with them. Even to her untrained ears, the music was clearly challenging and wildly dissonant, its tones and rhythms changing constantly in a perfect sonic storm. He repeated several passages until they were perfect, scowling at his flubs, then smiling in grim satisfaction when he finally performed the entire piece flawlessly.
He was still sitting at the bench, taking deep breaths, hands gripping his knees when Charlotte entered the room and showered him with applause. He cocked one eyebrow at her and grinned.
“That was quite amazing. A very difficult piece, yes?”
“Yeah. I performed it for my final at Juilliard. I like to revisit it every now and then just to make sure I can still play it.”
“Ah. I was right,” Charlotte said with a satisfied smile as she rested an elbow atop the piano. “I assumed you’d attended some prestigious music school the first time I heard you play.”
Edward looked a bit surprised. “I guess I never told you that, huh? Sorry. It’s not something I really like to talk about.”
“Your fingers do the talking for you,” she replied. “That was truly masterful, my dear. And I’m not talking about the technical perfection, either. I’m talking about the passion, the fury you put into every note. It’s nothing short of astonishing. Music is all about feeling, and that’s where you truly shine. You don’t let the technique interfere with the emotion. That’s what allows the music to soar and transcend the notes. Do you know what I’m saying?”
Edward looked up at her in wonder. “I know exactly what you’re saying. Ironically, I think that I’ve gotten better at that since I quit school and don’t get to play as much. It forces me to channel all my frustration into something more powerful, I guess.”
“Perhaps life’s trials have given you more empathy to the human condition, and that only enriches the music that comes out of you. Another sad irony, that suffering can create great art.”
“So they say,” Edward agreed with a rueful smile. “Maybe I should be grateful for the hard knocks, then?” He snorted softly.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Happiness can create great art, too, as far as I’m concerned. And I’d certainly like to see you get your fair share. Certainly no one deserves it more.”
“I think that’s debatable,” he countered darkly.
Charlotte gave him a warning look that prompted him to explain himself.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I feel like I keep making them. Maybe I’m just reaping what I’ve sown.”
“Good heavens, are you trying to tell me you’re human?” she retorted with a sly grin. “I’ll get the guillotine ready, then. Mistakes are unforgivable. Not only do you not deserve happiness, I’m not altogether sure you deserve to live.”
Edward laughed in spite of himself. “All right, fine. Point taken. You always make me smile, Charlotte, you know that?”
“It works both ways,” she replied, beaming herself. “Now, would you like to tell me what happened between this week and last? You were high as a kite last Wednesday. This Wednesday, you barely spoke when you came over; you just sat at this piano for hours, which is fine by me. But this impromptu visit has me wondering what’s gone so wrong in the span of a few short days. Does it have something to do with that young girl you‘re interested in? What did you say her name was, again?”
“It’s Bella,” he answered with a smile before his forehead creased. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Or maybe everything is. She’s given me a lot to think about, I guess.”
Charlotte nodded. “Maybe a reevaluation of your life is in order. There are worse things than taking stock, you know.”
“I know. That’s what Alice says, too. But it’s happening so fast . . . I’m just not sure what to do.”
Her heart ached for the troubled young man before her. She wanted to wave a magic wand and take his pain away, if only he would let her.
“My offer still stands, you know,” she reminded him gently.
He still flinched at her words. “Thank you. I do appreciate that. But I’m not sure how that would really help anything. I’d just owe you instead of the bank. And before you tell me I don’t have to repay you, I don’t think I could live with myself if I just took a handout from you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, though she wanted to throttle him for his stubborn male pride. “Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking.”
He nodded, but still looked reluctant. She decided it was time to move on to a less touchy subject. “Would you like to play some more, or join me in a game? I’m in dire need of brushing up my poker skills. Your tutelage would come in handy, as I’m considering joining a card circle in the neighborhood.”
His face brightened. “You should definitely do that. You’re a natural. You’ve already got your poker face down, so the rest should be a cinch.”
“All right, then. Why don’t you fetch the card deck for us? It’s in the sitting room desk. I’ll join you shortly.”
She watched his tall, lanky form lope out of the conservatory, and shook her head at the slew of conflicting feelings he stirred within her. Above all, though, she longed to see him content. She suspected this Bella held the key to his happiness, if he could only see his way clear to letting her unlock it.
Bella. She wondered again if Edward’s crush was the same girl who’d nearly mowed her down outside the church Sunday, but was adorably apologetic about it afterward. She’d asked Pastor Tim about the girl, but he’d divined little about her, other than her first name and her appreciation for fine art. As soon as he’d told Charlotte the girl’s name, her interest had been piqued. She hoped Bella would return some Sunday so she could find out more about her.
Charlotte walked around the piano and pushed in the bench, then approached the bookcase behind it. She reached up to the highest shelf and retrieved a small recording device from between a long row of books. She checked to make sure it was working, then hit the “stop“ button, stifling a slightly devious grin. She supposed she ought to feel guilty for having secretly recorded several of Edward’s practice sessions, but she couldn’t quite seem to regret it. She’d enjoyed downloading and listening to his beautiful music in between visits, for one. But truth be told, she had a deeper motive behind her actions. She was merely waiting for the right moment to give him the nudge he needed.
She had decided long ago that if Edward refused to help himself, then she would.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Chapter 25
On the way to the parking garage, Bella found herself standing outside the little church near her dorm again, staring at the giant black sheet of glass, wondering. She was dying to know what that stained-glass window looked like from inside the building.
From the outside, it was impressive mainly in size, dwarfing the east end of the church. The building was constructed of unassuming tan brick, its focal point clearly the stained-glass window she assumed was centered over the altar. Her parents weren’t particularly religious, so she had been in only a few churches before. Most of them were silent, gloomy affairs, filled with dark wood and high stained glass that filtered in little light.
But this window was enormous, and relatively close to the ground compared to the others she’d seen. She imagined that it let in a lot of light. She had the feeling it was beautiful, even though she couldn’t see any of the colors from the outside. She could only see the dark reflection of the glass between the leading. A huge likeness of Christ was superimposed over a thick, stylized cross, but he wasn’t hanging upon it like the figures she’d seen on crucifixes. He was simply standing, fully dressed in robes, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. Instead of thorns, a halo surrounded his head. Its roundness was echoed in a secondary circle around the cross, itself dotted with small globes containing symbols she couldn’t read.
From an artistic standpoint, she found it quite interesting. She would be taking an art history class this semester, and she knew cathedrals and religious artwork would be a big part of the course. She was curious to know how old this stained-glass window was, and what it looked like from the inside the church.
A glance at her watch told her she had a little time to kill before she had to be at work. The church parking lot was relatively empty, so she figured the Sunday service wouldn’t start for awhile yet. Next thing she knew, she found herself slowly ascending the stairs to the heavy wooden front door. She took a breath, wrapped her hand around the iron handle and pulled up the latch. The door opened in well-oiled silence, and her heart picked up its pace as she stepped into the foreign entryway.
She looked around, but saw no one. She tiptoed in on sneakered feet, silently climbing another short set of stairs that led to the back of the church. She was surprised to see that the interior was light and airy. The room was painted white, carpeted in deep crimson, and decorated with comfortable-looking sofas and chairs. She crept along the carpet, looking around in cautious awe at her surroundings.
She soon reached a set of doors that had been propped open in welcome. She peered around the corner and down the long, carpeted aisle into the sanctuary. When her eyes met the stained glass window at the end, she let out a gasp.
It was beautiful. Breathtakingly, stunningly beautiful.
She found herself slowly walking down the center aisle of the sanctuary, barely cognizant of the warm maple pews passing her on either side. Her eyes were transfixed upon the enormous image over the altar, its colors resplendent as the morning sun shone through them with uncanny brilliance.
The entire background was comprised of vibrant royal blue glass in slightly varying shades, a perfect backdrop for the golden cross upon it. The figure of Christ was robed in shades of white, green and rich scarlet; the circle around him was scarlet as well, overlaid with white globes containing symbols she still didn’t recognize. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe they represented his disciples. She’d heard the Christmas and Easter stories, of course; Mom had always managed to get her to a church for such occasions.
But here, looking at this amazing piece of art, she felt a reverence she’d never felt before in church. She wasn’t sure if it was the deep, glowing colors, or the serene, all-knowing look the artist had captured to represent the features of Jesus. All she knew was that for the first time, she actually felt like she might be in the presence of something greater than herself.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
She literally jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She’d been so lost in her studies of the window that she’d failed to hear the soft pad of feet approaching on the thick carpeting. She whirled around and found herself face to face with a rather short, bespectacled man wearing a huge grin and a white cassock.
“It’s amazing,” she finally uttered after her heart stopped knocking against her ribs.
“Sorry if I scared you,” the pastor said, still smiling, not looking particularly sorry at all. “I figured Daisy and I made enough ruckus just breathing, let alone walking, to give you some warning.”
Bella flashed him a confused look before she realized what she was seeing. All at once, she took in the obvious: his amiable eyes were crinkled into unfocused slits behind their lenses of thick, myopic glass; and in his left hand he grasped a leather-wrapped bridle securing a large, liver-colored Chesapeake Bay retriever at his side.
“I’m Pastor Tim,” the man said, holding out his hand in her direction. She took it and he instantly grasped her hand tightly, giving it a warm shake.
“I’m Bella,” she managed to say.
“Nice to meet you, Bella,” the pastor boomed. “Are you going to stay for the service today? I promise, Daisy and I don’t bite. Well, she doesn’t, anyway,” he added with a mischievous grin.
Bella let out a weak laugh and knelt down to scratch the placid guide dog behind her ears.
“She’s beautiful,” Bella said.
“So I’m told,” Pastor Tim replied. “She’s my eyes, though, so I’m a little biased.”
“I’m sorry,” Bella told him, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t be. I’m blessed to have such a beautiful pair of eyes, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he’d just given her a wink.
“Daisy is a blessing,” Bella agreed. The pastor was so uncannily open that she decided to take a chance and ask him the foremost question on her mind. “So, have you seen this stained-glass window? I mean, before. . .”
“Before I went blind?” the pastor was kind enough to finish for her.
“Yeah.” Her voice was sheepish.
“No, I’ve been blind since I was a young man. Diabetes,” he explained. “Took part of my leg, too. Couldn’t take my spirit, though. The Lord made sure that stayed intact.”
“Wow.” Bella’s reply was barely audible, but she had the feeling Pastor Tim heard her.
“My parishioners have described the window to me in detail, and it’s all the more beautiful when I see it through their eyes. I’m lucky to still have my mind’s eye, too. And the imagination can be a powerful thing - more powerful than reality, sometimes.”
Bella was a little stunned by the profundity of his simple statements. “You’re right,” she agreed softly.
“Well, I just wanted to welcome a newcomer to the church. I hope you’ll stay and hear the message today. It’s a good one, if I do say so myself.” He gave her that same infectious grin, and she found herself wishing she could stay and hear more of his words.
“I’m afraid I have to work,” she told him. “I just wanted to steal a look at that window from the inside. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He tutted and waved a dismissive hand. “You can never intrude in the house of the Lord. It’s your house. It’s everyone’s house, if they only let it be.”
Bella nodded, thanked Pastor Tim again, and hurried out of the sanctuary. She knew he meant his words of welcome, but she was beginning to feel like she had overstepped; like she didn’t belong in this place, no matter how warm and inviting it felt.
She pushed the front door open and barreled out onto the concrete landing - straight into a parishioner who was just arriving. The woman’s wide-brimmed hat was knocked from her head as Bella whizzed by, and the wind picked up strands of her neat silver bob, blowing them into the air.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Bella apologized, bending down to retrieve the woman’s gauzy summer hat. The breeze lifted and carried it away before she could grab it, and she stumbled after it, her sneakers scraping the pavement.
“Oh my!” The woman exclaimed, watching the young girl scramble. “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll get it.”
But Bella had already seized the brim. “Got it!” she pronounced, waving it in the air as she stood upright. The woman was laughing and smoothing her sleek bob with one hand when Bella handed her the hat.
“Thank you, dear,” she said with a benevolent smile. Bella smiled herself, at the woman’s elegant demeanor and English accent. She was the type of woman Bella thought she might like to be when she was older - smart, stylish, almost regal.
“You’re welcome,” Bella told her, then turned to leave.
“Aren’t you going to stay for the service?” the woman asked as she reached for the now-closed door.
“No, I have to work,” she begged off.
“Oh, that’s a shame. You should come back some time when you can. Pastor Tim is a delightful man. I was dead chuffed when I discovered him. He’s not all stuffy and holier-than-thou like so many other reverends. He speaks straight to the heart without even trying.”
“I’m sure he does,” Bella agreed.
“I hope to see you again, then.”
Bella looked into the kind-hearted eyes of the British woman and thought that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to come back here sometime. She watched as the woman waved her hat good-bye and opened the door of the church.
“Pastor Tim,” she called in greeting, stepping into the entry.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” was the last thing Bella heard as the heavy door swung shut behind her.
# # # # # # # # # # #
“Remind me again why I do this.”
Emmett glanced over at Edward, but the latter was still staring morosely off the terrace, his eyes unfocused in the direction of the Sound.
“What, relax at home with a beer on a Sunday afternoon?” Emmett countered, taking a swig from his Heineken. “Because it’s the law.”
That one nearly cracked Edward’s face with a grin, but not quite.
“No, why I fuck women for money,” he clarified bluntly.
“Ah,” Emmett replied, as if he didn’t already know the cause of Edward’s ill humor. “You just said it yourself - you need the money. And you don’t fuck them. Not all of them. You merely entertain them, however they desire. You provide the much-needed and appreciated service of companionship - nothing more, nothing less.”
Edward did grin this time. “I like how you toe the company line. Rose would be proud.” He glanced over and gave Emmett a suspicious look. “Does she have a recording device jammed in your shoe?”
“Possibly,” he answered with a grin. His smile faded and he gave Edward a questioning look. “You wanna tell me what this is about?”
Edward frowned and took a hefty swig of his own beer. “I just need you to remind me why I started doing this. Tell me everything I said to you in the bar that night, when you talked me into following in your footsteps.”
“Hey, I didn’t have to talk very long,” Emmett protested. “At the time, you were ready to sell all your bodily fluids and probably your first born for money.”
“Exactly. Remind me why.”
Emmett sighed before taking a deep breath and launching into the list. It had been awhile since he’d had to do this, but apparently Edward needed to hear it one more time.
“Well, you’re looking at one of the main reasons. This view. This house. Your mother’s house; your grandmother’s house. La Casa Cullen - the only physical thing that remains of your family’s history. It’s not a mansion, but it’s all you have, and in this location, the property taxes alone could bleed a man dry.”
Edward nodded. “Go on.”
“You didn’t have a clue what was really going on with your grandmother when you were away at school,” Emmett continued with another sigh. “She even managed to hide it from Alice for awhile. Then the two of them hid it from you - how much she was forgetting. How Alice had started paying the bills when Emily forgot. But even she didn’t know just how bad it was until Emily wandered off and left the stove on after lunch one day. She nearly burned the whole Goddamned house down. If Alice hadn’t come home from school when she did, both Emily and this place would have been gone.”
Edward took another mouthful of beer and swished it around in his mouth, enjoying its mild bite. “Continue.”
Emmett shook his head, wondering why Edward made him do this. Why he did it to himself. But for some reason, he needed it, so Emmett droned on.
“Well, as I recall, you were just graduating from Juilliard at the time and had planned to audition for a position with a traveling symphony. Instead, you came home to find the house, and everything else, in shambles. The Alzheimer’s had done more damage to Emily than you or Alice ever guessed. Your grandmother had neglected to keep up the insurance premiums on this property, and on herself. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken a second mortgage out on the house to cover the college tuition and expenses your scholarships didn’t. And then there was the first mortgage that she’d taken just to pay for the expenses of raising you and Alice for the past fourteen years.”
“And why did she do that?” Edward interrupted, gazing morosely out over the water.
“Christ, Edward,” Emmett mumbled. Why was he forcing him to bring up such painful shit? He swallowed another mouthful of beer before he spit the words out. “Because, after your parents and your aunt and uncle died together in that car crash, there was nothing left. Emily sold the building they’d constructed for their new medical practice, which paid off the loans they’d taken out to build it, and not much more. And then, when she started forgetting things at work, she was let go from the law office where she’d been a clerk most of her life.”
Edward was still gazing out over the Sound, his eyes and thoughts far away. He was only half-listening to Emmett’s narration of his family’s painful past. For some reason, he kept thinking about his third piano recital at the age of eight, when he played last on the roster because he was already better than the older students under his instructor’s tutelage. His parents had been bursting with pride. Dad never even mentioned him going into medicine like he had. Instead he started calling Edward, Junior “my future concert pianist.”
Emmett drained his bottle and looked sideways at Edward. “Is that enough?”
Edward shook his head. “All of it.”
Emmett huffed a sigh before continuing. “What more is there? You came home to a very ill grandmother, a dependent teenaged cousin and a fucking mountain of debt. You told me you met with a financial wizard who started throwing around ideas like Welfare and state-funded hospitals and foster care for Alice until she was eighteen, or could be declared an emancipated minor. When he told you that the bank was about to foreclose on the house if you didn’t come up with the past few months' back payments, you nearly hauled off and the slugged the guy.”
A wan smile flitted over Edward’s face. “I couldn’t let them take this house,” he said quietly.
“Right. You couldn’t. So you did what you had to do to save it,” Emmett told him emphatically, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before reaching into the cooler between them and extracting another beer. He popped off the top and took a draft. “You got your grandmother the specialized care she needs, in a nice place, with a staff who knows what they’re doing. You saved the family home so Alice could stay here with you and finish school, instead of being carted off to those distant relatives of hers in the Midwest who don’t have two nickels to rub together. You paid off your own student loans and even managed to pay part of Alice’s tuition so she won’t be in such massive debt when she graduates.”
Emmett paused and stared at his friend until he turned weary eyes his way.
“You manned up, Edward. You took care of your family and yourself. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect way, but you were desperate. I presented you an opportunity, and you took it. Don’t beat yourself up over this anymore. You can still do other things with your life when your escort days are through, you know.”
Edward nodded slowly, his face still tainted with bitterness. “Don’t get me wrong, Emmett - I’m grateful for your help. I don’t know what I would have done to keep my head above water back then. I was drowning. You threw me a lifesaver.” He paused and sipped more beer. “Problem is, the lifesaver is starting to strangle me.”
Emmett nodded, trying to understand. He, himself, had enjoyed his escort days immensely, for the most part. But when he considered that none of the women who hired him ever made him feel like a man the way Rosalie did, he realized why the business was getting to Edward.
“So, who is she?”
Edward was as startled by the question now as he had been last night, when his client demanded to know the same thing.
“What makes you think it’s a she?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you were batting for the other team,” Emmett replied with a twinkle in his eye. “Damn, why is it always the gay ones who make the best escorts?”
“Shut up,” Edward retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Although you’re right, Laurent is our number one requested guy, and he’s more ‘bi’ than a bicycle.”
Emmett suddenly shot up in his lounge chair, a light bulb seeming to go off in his head. “It’s that girl from last weekend, isn’t it? The little pale one with the big, dark eyes.”
Edward felt his face grow warm, but chalked it up to the beer and too much sun.
“Ha, I knew it! I know your type, man. Sweet and unassuming on the outside, take-no-prisoners on the inside. Am I right?”
Edward couldn’t help but smile. “You do know me well. And her, considering you met her for all of ninety seconds.”
“Yeah, but she had that look in her eyes, like she already owned you and she knew it. And you were so clearly whipped. I should have known. Shit. Don’t get whipped by a client, man! That’s the number one rule, you know that. You let one of them in, and the next thing you know, you’re the one getting screwed.”
Edward only grinned some more, then shrugged helplessly. “I like her. She’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. The minute I leave her, I want to see her again. Do you know how long it’s been since I met a girl I couldn’t wait to see again?”
Emmett shook his head sadly. “Yep. You’re screwed.”
“Never, that’s how long,” Edward continued, undaunted. “I can’t remember the last time anyone made me feel that way. At Juilliard, I was so focused on my career that I didn’t want to take the time to maintain an actual relationship. That’s why I kind of enjoyed the escort business at first. No-strings sex was something I’d tried like hell to have all through college, and finally I was not only getting it, I was getting paid for it. It was like winning the lottery twice.”
Edward’s grin faded. “But it didn’t take long to realize what a hollow victory it was. When the novelty wore off, so did the satisfaction. Before I got in this business, I never imagined the day would come when sex would just be routine, like brushing my teeth every morning. But that’s exactly where I was when I met Bella. I was at a point where I expected nothing. Wanted nothing. She couldn’t have caught me more off guard.”
Emmett was still shaking his head. “You poor bastard,” he said with a sigh. “You’re so fucked.”
Edward nodded in futility. “Fucked.”
“You’re not doing anything stupid, are you?” Emmett asked in a warning tone. “Like trying to see her on the side?”
Edward’s eyes flickered briefly to Emmett’s, then back out over the water. “I don’t know. I might be.”
Emmett’s groan was loud and foreboding. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. And if Rose asks me anything about why you’re acting screwy lately, I will plead total ignorance.”
“Am I acting screwy?”
“A little. Maybe no one else notices.”
“My date last night noticed.”
Emmett’s look was one of mild horror. “Don’t tell me. . .”
“Okay, I won’t tell you that I almost couldn’t get it up. I was so fucking tired, and I couldn’t get Bella out of my head, especially one week to the day after I was with her. . .”
“I am not hearing this.”
“Bella was a virgin. Did I tell you that? She was a fucking virgin and actually paid my sorry ass to be her first. How fucked up is that? It’s, like, inconceivable to me. And yet that’s what she wanted. I was who she wanted. And she still wants me. She still sees something in me. . .”
Emmett groaned in defeat. His friend was far more gone than he ever suspected.
“How old is she, anyway? She looked young.”
“She’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks,” Edward admitted, feeling a little sheepish.
Emmett groaned more loudly. “She’s still in college? That is trouble, my friend. With a capital ‘T.’ She’s too young.”
“She’s not that young -”
“She’s too young,” he reiterated sharply. “Forget about it. Call her up in a couple of years after she graduates and see if there’s still something there. Maybe by then you’ll have your finances in order enough to quit the business. But you’re crazy if you’re considering trying to keep something going with this girl right now.”
Emmett could see his friend’s reluctance to follow his advice. He turned sideways in his chair, leaning in to look Edward straight in the eyes. “I’m serious, man. You need to let this one go.”
Edward’s face had an expression Emmett had never seen before, a strange combination of desperation and determination.
“That’s the thing,” he said, his voice pulled tight as a drum. “I don’t think I can.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Alice Cullen stared at the book store queues in utter dismay.
"Disgust" was more like it. She couldn’t even see the ends of the lines at first. They snaked through the store like dancing Chinese dragons on a congested parade route through Chinatown. She thought she’d found the end of one until a large, pasty-faced girl glared at her and barked, “Get to the back of the line! No cuts.”
Alice hoisted her basketful of books higher on her hip and followed the string of people like a trail of breadcrumbs until she was almost out the front door.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, settling in for the long haul to reach a register. Edward was right - she shouldn’t have procrastinated.
Edward was always right, much to her annoyance. Well, about most things. She would never agree with his decision to be an escort, even though the mountain of debt their grandmother had accrued looked insurmountable back then. She always thought there had to be a better way, especially with the talent he possessed. Even when Edward pointed out to her that he was making five times more money as an escort than he would have as a symphony pianist, and received a car and wardrobe allowance to boot, she kept trying to come up with a better idea. But she was only a teenager in high school, working as many part-time hours as she could manage in order to pitch in. She didn’t have any easy answers.
But Edward thought he did. He even tried to tell her it was his dream job - it was every man’s dream job. Alice knew better. She might have believed him if he’d been some womanizing man-whore all his life, but he was always quiet and even a little shy, never quite realizing just how attractive he was to the opposite sex. He was so absorbed in his musical ambitions that everything else, including girls, came second. That’s why it killed her to watch him cut himself off from his lifelong dream just to take care of her and their grandmother, and to save that stupid old house. He’d treated his budding music career as if it were a limb he’d had to sever to get out of a trap, leaving it behind without so much as a single look back.
But she saw that phantom limb haunting him still, the ghost of it lingering in his wistful eyes. The pain of his sacrifice made her angry sometimes - made her wish horrible, irrational things. She often found herself hoping her grandmother would die soon, and then hated herself immediately afterward. But the truth was, so much of the woman she loved had disappeared already that the shell remaining seemed to exist primarily as a cruel joke on all of them. If Edward weren’t paying for Emily’s nursing home care, he might be able to handle the mortgages with a regular job instead of the quasi-illegal one to which he’d resorted. She knew why he was so attached to the house, and everything in it. It was all that remained of the family they’d both lost too soon.
Alice finally set her heavy shopping basket on the floor with a thud and an irritated sigh. She heard a soft chuckle in the queue to her left. She looked across a couple racks of U-Dub apparel to see a cute blond-haired boy giving her a lopsided grin. He nodded down at the floor where his own overflowing basket of books lay, then gave it a kick as his line inched forward.
“I decided I’d save my weight-lifting for the gym,” he drawled in explanation. His accent earmarked him as a recent Seattle import from the south.
Alice giggled. “I’m saving my weight-lifting for. . . never,” she replied.
He let out a short, deep laugh at that. “At least you’re honest about it.”
She shrugged and gave her own basket a kick after the person ahead of her moved up. “If we ever decide to take up soccer, though, we ought to be pros by the time we get to the register.”
The blond boy’s grin deepened. “I like how you think.”
“I like how you talk. Where are you from?”
“Texas. Houston, originally,” he added.
“Really? Cool. Are you a freshman?” she asked hopefully.
“No, a junior. But I just transferred here from Texas Tech, so I kind of feel like one.”
“Well, I’m new to U-Dub, but not to Seattle. Maybe I can show you around sometime.” Alice never believed in beating around the bush, and she already liked this Texas transplant, with his easy manner and easier smile.
“I’d like that,” he said, his cheeks coloring slightly. He looked a little bashful, and it nearly drove her mad with attraction.
“I’m Alice, by the way,” she called over the clothes racks, leaning through the t-shirts and offering her hand. “Alice Cullen.”
“Jasper Whitlock,” he replied, reaching through some sweatpants to grasp her hot little fingers in his. “It’s a pleasure.”
She squeezed his strong hand for a moment before letting go. “It most certainly is,” she said under her breath.
“Come again?”
“Oh, I hope to,” she answered with a grin.
Twenty feet ahead, Bella Swan’s ears had perked up. Amidst the babble surrounding her station, she was sure she had heard the name “Cullen.” Absolutely positive, in fact. She craned her neck and looked down the line, and the line of the register across from hers, vainly hoping to see Edward in the throng. But she realized quickly enough that she would have recognized that gravity-defying hair of his, sticking up above the mops of tamer, shorter heads around him. Her brief surge of excitement quickly died and she continued to scan books with the bored precision of a robot.
Alice and Jasper each reached their registers at approximately the same time and gave each other knowing grins across the aisle before lifting their baskets in unison.
“The finish line!” she exclaimed, which made Jasper emit one of those deep chuckles that already made a little zing of excitement shoot through her veins.
She slammed the heavy shopping basket atop the counter and gave the cashier a triumphant look. The girl’s brown eyes widened for a moment, and then she let out a laugh as she looked into Alice’s exultant face.
“Hey, reaching this cash register has been the ultimate triumph, like completing the Boston marathon. It’s practically the pinnacle of my weekend,” she said. “Which doesn’t say much about my weekend, does it?”
She let out a rueful laugh, and the cashier joined her. When she began to lift her books from the basket, Alice quickly dove in to help her.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” the brown-eyed girl said, shooing her hand away.
“Are you kidding? You’re the one standing here doing heavy lifting all day. Let me get them. Besides, I’d better get used to hauling them around campus, right?”
“Right,” the cashier agreed. She let Alice retrieve the books and hand them to her one by one so she could scan them.
“Teamwork,” Alice told her with a grin.
The girl bit her lip and grinned. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“De nada,” Alice replied, digging through her purse for her wallet. She handed her student I.D. to the cashier, who ran it through the sensor and then checked the signature on the back. Suddenly the girl’s dark eyes widened, and she stared up at Alice with a stunned expression.
“What - is it declined?” Surely not. Edward didn’t let things like exceeded credit limits happen.
“No, it’s fine,” the girl answered, staring at the card again, then Alice. “It’s just - you aren’t related to Edward Cullen, are you?”
Alice’s eyes narrowed. Edward only used the surname “Cullen” when he was escorting. He didn’t like to use his real name, though he never said why. Alice figured it was his way of removing himself slightly from what he was doing, though he’d often said that he should just change his name to “Cullen,” to match that of his only surviving relatives. Either way, if this girl knew him as Edward Cullen, then she knew him through Renaissance Escorts.
Alice gave her a quick once-over. She didn’t know what Edward’s clients were usually like, but she couldn’t imagine that this girl was typical. She was young and attractive, if a bit awkward. What would she be doing hiring a date?
“Edward is my brother,” she replied. She figured this was a good test. Anyone who really knew Edward would know he was an only child, though Alice always considered him her brother. She was barely five when their parents died. She had only a few faded memories of them, but she had tons of memories of ten-year-old Edward moving into Em’s house with her, being her playmate and later protector, just like a brother would.
“Brother?” The cashier’s forehead crinkled and her face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry. I think it must be a different Edward Cullen, then.”
Alice’s interest was piqued. “Maybe,” she said. “How do you know him?”
The girl’s eyes flashed with something that looked a little like embarrassment. “He’s a friend of mine, that’s all,” she said, averting her gaze as handed Alice her I.D.
“I’m meeting a friend.” Edward’s words from the other day echoed in Alice’s ears. She studied the cashier again with interest. She wasn’t even sure what Edward’s type was, but if he had one, this girl might be it. Pretty, but not fussy; hard-working, honest-looking.
“Did you meet him Friday morning for breakfast?” Alice asked point blank.
The girl’s eyes popped open again. “Yeah. Did he. . . mention me?”
Alice glanced surreptitiously at her nametag. “As a matter of fact, he did, Bella.”
The girl’s cheeks turned bubble-gum pink and her lips stretched into a bashful smile. Geez, what was with all these self-conscious, shy types? Alice was surrounded by them. She took a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure the other bashful one, Jasper, hadn’t escaped during her conversation. He seemed to be lingering at the end of the counter, checking his bag, doing a book count. Shit, she didn’t have much time - she didn’t want that one to get away.
She turned curious eyes back to Bella, wondering how she’d met Edward, and exactly what she meant to him. He obviously meant something to her. But Edward had that effect on most women without even realizing it, the oblivious fool.
“Listen. Edward isn’t really my brother, but he might as well be. I love him to death and I want nothing more than to see him happy. And the other morning, when he was leaving to meet you, he actually looked happy for the first time in a long time.”
Bella looked even more pleased, if a little flustered; and Alice realized that this girl was one-hundred-percent gone over her cousin.
The question was, how did he feel about Bella?
Alice whipped her neck to the side to make sure Jasper hadn’t left; he was ambling toward the door. She turned back to face Bella, then scrambled in her purse for a pen and some paper.
“This gum wrapper will have to do,” she muttered. “Give me your phone number, would you? I’d like to talk to you some time about Edward. If that’s okay,” she added hurriedly.
Bella’s eyes were round and fawn-like once more. “Sure,” she said, then rattled off the numbers. Alice scribbled furiously and jammed the paper and pen back in her purse.
“Thanks, Bella. It was great to meet you. I’ll call you soon!”
And with that she was sprinting for the door, not caring how forward that might look to the laid-back Jasper Whitlock.
Bella stood gaping after her, wondering what had just happened. The loud smack of another customer’s books hitting her countertop diverted her attention from the aftermath of Hurricane Alice. She had no choice but to return to the drudgery of her job and hope that particular storm would revisit her soon.
From the outside, it was impressive mainly in size, dwarfing the east end of the church. The building was constructed of unassuming tan brick, its focal point clearly the stained-glass window she assumed was centered over the altar. Her parents weren’t particularly religious, so she had been in only a few churches before. Most of them were silent, gloomy affairs, filled with dark wood and high stained glass that filtered in little light.
But this window was enormous, and relatively close to the ground compared to the others she’d seen. She imagined that it let in a lot of light. She had the feeling it was beautiful, even though she couldn’t see any of the colors from the outside. She could only see the dark reflection of the glass between the leading. A huge likeness of Christ was superimposed over a thick, stylized cross, but he wasn’t hanging upon it like the figures she’d seen on crucifixes. He was simply standing, fully dressed in robes, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. Instead of thorns, a halo surrounded his head. Its roundness was echoed in a secondary circle around the cross, itself dotted with small globes containing symbols she couldn’t read.
From an artistic standpoint, she found it quite interesting. She would be taking an art history class this semester, and she knew cathedrals and religious artwork would be a big part of the course. She was curious to know how old this stained-glass window was, and what it looked like from the inside the church.
A glance at her watch told her she had a little time to kill before she had to be at work. The church parking lot was relatively empty, so she figured the Sunday service wouldn’t start for awhile yet. Next thing she knew, she found herself slowly ascending the stairs to the heavy wooden front door. She took a breath, wrapped her hand around the iron handle and pulled up the latch. The door opened in well-oiled silence, and her heart picked up its pace as she stepped into the foreign entryway.
She looked around, but saw no one. She tiptoed in on sneakered feet, silently climbing another short set of stairs that led to the back of the church. She was surprised to see that the interior was light and airy. The room was painted white, carpeted in deep crimson, and decorated with comfortable-looking sofas and chairs. She crept along the carpet, looking around in cautious awe at her surroundings.
She soon reached a set of doors that had been propped open in welcome. She peered around the corner and down the long, carpeted aisle into the sanctuary. When her eyes met the stained glass window at the end, she let out a gasp.
It was beautiful. Breathtakingly, stunningly beautiful.
She found herself slowly walking down the center aisle of the sanctuary, barely cognizant of the warm maple pews passing her on either side. Her eyes were transfixed upon the enormous image over the altar, its colors resplendent as the morning sun shone through them with uncanny brilliance.
The entire background was comprised of vibrant royal blue glass in slightly varying shades, a perfect backdrop for the golden cross upon it. The figure of Christ was robed in shades of white, green and rich scarlet; the circle around him was scarlet as well, overlaid with white globes containing symbols she still didn’t recognize. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe they represented his disciples. She’d heard the Christmas and Easter stories, of course; Mom had always managed to get her to a church for such occasions.
But here, looking at this amazing piece of art, she felt a reverence she’d never felt before in church. She wasn’t sure if it was the deep, glowing colors, or the serene, all-knowing look the artist had captured to represent the features of Jesus. All she knew was that for the first time, she actually felt like she might be in the presence of something greater than herself.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
She literally jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She’d been so lost in her studies of the window that she’d failed to hear the soft pad of feet approaching on the thick carpeting. She whirled around and found herself face to face with a rather short, bespectacled man wearing a huge grin and a white cassock.
“It’s amazing,” she finally uttered after her heart stopped knocking against her ribs.
“Sorry if I scared you,” the pastor said, still smiling, not looking particularly sorry at all. “I figured Daisy and I made enough ruckus just breathing, let alone walking, to give you some warning.”
Bella flashed him a confused look before she realized what she was seeing. All at once, she took in the obvious: his amiable eyes were crinkled into unfocused slits behind their lenses of thick, myopic glass; and in his left hand he grasped a leather-wrapped bridle securing a large, liver-colored Chesapeake Bay retriever at his side.
“I’m Pastor Tim,” the man said, holding out his hand in her direction. She took it and he instantly grasped her hand tightly, giving it a warm shake.
“I’m Bella,” she managed to say.
“Nice to meet you, Bella,” the pastor boomed. “Are you going to stay for the service today? I promise, Daisy and I don’t bite. Well, she doesn’t, anyway,” he added with a mischievous grin.
Bella let out a weak laugh and knelt down to scratch the placid guide dog behind her ears.
“She’s beautiful,” Bella said.
“So I’m told,” Pastor Tim replied. “She’s my eyes, though, so I’m a little biased.”
“I’m sorry,” Bella told him, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t be. I’m blessed to have such a beautiful pair of eyes, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he’d just given her a wink.
“Daisy is a blessing,” Bella agreed. The pastor was so uncannily open that she decided to take a chance and ask him the foremost question on her mind. “So, have you seen this stained-glass window? I mean, before. . .”
“Before I went blind?” the pastor was kind enough to finish for her.
“Yeah.” Her voice was sheepish.
“No, I’ve been blind since I was a young man. Diabetes,” he explained. “Took part of my leg, too. Couldn’t take my spirit, though. The Lord made sure that stayed intact.”
“Wow.” Bella’s reply was barely audible, but she had the feeling Pastor Tim heard her.
“My parishioners have described the window to me in detail, and it’s all the more beautiful when I see it through their eyes. I’m lucky to still have my mind’s eye, too. And the imagination can be a powerful thing - more powerful than reality, sometimes.”
Bella was a little stunned by the profundity of his simple statements. “You’re right,” she agreed softly.
“Well, I just wanted to welcome a newcomer to the church. I hope you’ll stay and hear the message today. It’s a good one, if I do say so myself.” He gave her that same infectious grin, and she found herself wishing she could stay and hear more of his words.
“I’m afraid I have to work,” she told him. “I just wanted to steal a look at that window from the inside. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He tutted and waved a dismissive hand. “You can never intrude in the house of the Lord. It’s your house. It’s everyone’s house, if they only let it be.”
Bella nodded, thanked Pastor Tim again, and hurried out of the sanctuary. She knew he meant his words of welcome, but she was beginning to feel like she had overstepped; like she didn’t belong in this place, no matter how warm and inviting it felt.
She pushed the front door open and barreled out onto the concrete landing - straight into a parishioner who was just arriving. The woman’s wide-brimmed hat was knocked from her head as Bella whizzed by, and the wind picked up strands of her neat silver bob, blowing them into the air.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Bella apologized, bending down to retrieve the woman’s gauzy summer hat. The breeze lifted and carried it away before she could grab it, and she stumbled after it, her sneakers scraping the pavement.
“Oh my!” The woman exclaimed, watching the young girl scramble. “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll get it.”
But Bella had already seized the brim. “Got it!” she pronounced, waving it in the air as she stood upright. The woman was laughing and smoothing her sleek bob with one hand when Bella handed her the hat.
“Thank you, dear,” she said with a benevolent smile. Bella smiled herself, at the woman’s elegant demeanor and English accent. She was the type of woman Bella thought she might like to be when she was older - smart, stylish, almost regal.
“You’re welcome,” Bella told her, then turned to leave.
“Aren’t you going to stay for the service?” the woman asked as she reached for the now-closed door.
“No, I have to work,” she begged off.
“Oh, that’s a shame. You should come back some time when you can. Pastor Tim is a delightful man. I was dead chuffed when I discovered him. He’s not all stuffy and holier-than-thou like so many other reverends. He speaks straight to the heart without even trying.”
“I’m sure he does,” Bella agreed.
“I hope to see you again, then.”
Bella looked into the kind-hearted eyes of the British woman and thought that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to come back here sometime. She watched as the woman waved her hat good-bye and opened the door of the church.
“Pastor Tim,” she called in greeting, stepping into the entry.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” was the last thing Bella heard as the heavy door swung shut behind her.
# # # # # # # # # # #
“Remind me again why I do this.”
Emmett glanced over at Edward, but the latter was still staring morosely off the terrace, his eyes unfocused in the direction of the Sound.
“What, relax at home with a beer on a Sunday afternoon?” Emmett countered, taking a swig from his Heineken. “Because it’s the law.”
That one nearly cracked Edward’s face with a grin, but not quite.
“No, why I fuck women for money,” he clarified bluntly.
“Ah,” Emmett replied, as if he didn’t already know the cause of Edward’s ill humor. “You just said it yourself - you need the money. And you don’t fuck them. Not all of them. You merely entertain them, however they desire. You provide the much-needed and appreciated service of companionship - nothing more, nothing less.”
Edward did grin this time. “I like how you toe the company line. Rose would be proud.” He glanced over and gave Emmett a suspicious look. “Does she have a recording device jammed in your shoe?”
“Possibly,” he answered with a grin. His smile faded and he gave Edward a questioning look. “You wanna tell me what this is about?”
Edward frowned and took a hefty swig of his own beer. “I just need you to remind me why I started doing this. Tell me everything I said to you in the bar that night, when you talked me into following in your footsteps.”
“Hey, I didn’t have to talk very long,” Emmett protested. “At the time, you were ready to sell all your bodily fluids and probably your first born for money.”
“Exactly. Remind me why.”
Emmett sighed before taking a deep breath and launching into the list. It had been awhile since he’d had to do this, but apparently Edward needed to hear it one more time.
“Well, you’re looking at one of the main reasons. This view. This house. Your mother’s house; your grandmother’s house. La Casa Cullen - the only physical thing that remains of your family’s history. It’s not a mansion, but it’s all you have, and in this location, the property taxes alone could bleed a man dry.”
Edward nodded. “Go on.”
“You didn’t have a clue what was really going on with your grandmother when you were away at school,” Emmett continued with another sigh. “She even managed to hide it from Alice for awhile. Then the two of them hid it from you - how much she was forgetting. How Alice had started paying the bills when Emily forgot. But even she didn’t know just how bad it was until Emily wandered off and left the stove on after lunch one day. She nearly burned the whole Goddamned house down. If Alice hadn’t come home from school when she did, both Emily and this place would have been gone.”
Edward took another mouthful of beer and swished it around in his mouth, enjoying its mild bite. “Continue.”
Emmett shook his head, wondering why Edward made him do this. Why he did it to himself. But for some reason, he needed it, so Emmett droned on.
“Well, as I recall, you were just graduating from Juilliard at the time and had planned to audition for a position with a traveling symphony. Instead, you came home to find the house, and everything else, in shambles. The Alzheimer’s had done more damage to Emily than you or Alice ever guessed. Your grandmother had neglected to keep up the insurance premiums on this property, and on herself. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken a second mortgage out on the house to cover the college tuition and expenses your scholarships didn’t. And then there was the first mortgage that she’d taken just to pay for the expenses of raising you and Alice for the past fourteen years.”
“And why did she do that?” Edward interrupted, gazing morosely out over the water.
“Christ, Edward,” Emmett mumbled. Why was he forcing him to bring up such painful shit? He swallowed another mouthful of beer before he spit the words out. “Because, after your parents and your aunt and uncle died together in that car crash, there was nothing left. Emily sold the building they’d constructed for their new medical practice, which paid off the loans they’d taken out to build it, and not much more. And then, when she started forgetting things at work, she was let go from the law office where she’d been a clerk most of her life.”
Edward was still gazing out over the Sound, his eyes and thoughts far away. He was only half-listening to Emmett’s narration of his family’s painful past. For some reason, he kept thinking about his third piano recital at the age of eight, when he played last on the roster because he was already better than the older students under his instructor’s tutelage. His parents had been bursting with pride. Dad never even mentioned him going into medicine like he had. Instead he started calling Edward, Junior “my future concert pianist.”
Emmett drained his bottle and looked sideways at Edward. “Is that enough?”
Edward shook his head. “All of it.”
Emmett huffed a sigh before continuing. “What more is there? You came home to a very ill grandmother, a dependent teenaged cousin and a fucking mountain of debt. You told me you met with a financial wizard who started throwing around ideas like Welfare and state-funded hospitals and foster care for Alice until she was eighteen, or could be declared an emancipated minor. When he told you that the bank was about to foreclose on the house if you didn’t come up with the past few months' back payments, you nearly hauled off and the slugged the guy.”
A wan smile flitted over Edward’s face. “I couldn’t let them take this house,” he said quietly.
“Right. You couldn’t. So you did what you had to do to save it,” Emmett told him emphatically, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before reaching into the cooler between them and extracting another beer. He popped off the top and took a draft. “You got your grandmother the specialized care she needs, in a nice place, with a staff who knows what they’re doing. You saved the family home so Alice could stay here with you and finish school, instead of being carted off to those distant relatives of hers in the Midwest who don’t have two nickels to rub together. You paid off your own student loans and even managed to pay part of Alice’s tuition so she won’t be in such massive debt when she graduates.”
Emmett paused and stared at his friend until he turned weary eyes his way.
“You manned up, Edward. You took care of your family and yourself. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect way, but you were desperate. I presented you an opportunity, and you took it. Don’t beat yourself up over this anymore. You can still do other things with your life when your escort days are through, you know.”
Edward nodded slowly, his face still tainted with bitterness. “Don’t get me wrong, Emmett - I’m grateful for your help. I don’t know what I would have done to keep my head above water back then. I was drowning. You threw me a lifesaver.” He paused and sipped more beer. “Problem is, the lifesaver is starting to strangle me.”
Emmett nodded, trying to understand. He, himself, had enjoyed his escort days immensely, for the most part. But when he considered that none of the women who hired him ever made him feel like a man the way Rosalie did, he realized why the business was getting to Edward.
“So, who is she?”
Edward was as startled by the question now as he had been last night, when his client demanded to know the same thing.
“What makes you think it’s a she?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you were batting for the other team,” Emmett replied with a twinkle in his eye. “Damn, why is it always the gay ones who make the best escorts?”
“Shut up,” Edward retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Although you’re right, Laurent is our number one requested guy, and he’s more ‘bi’ than a bicycle.”
Emmett suddenly shot up in his lounge chair, a light bulb seeming to go off in his head. “It’s that girl from last weekend, isn’t it? The little pale one with the big, dark eyes.”
Edward felt his face grow warm, but chalked it up to the beer and too much sun.
“Ha, I knew it! I know your type, man. Sweet and unassuming on the outside, take-no-prisoners on the inside. Am I right?”
Edward couldn’t help but smile. “You do know me well. And her, considering you met her for all of ninety seconds.”
“Yeah, but she had that look in her eyes, like she already owned you and she knew it. And you were so clearly whipped. I should have known. Shit. Don’t get whipped by a client, man! That’s the number one rule, you know that. You let one of them in, and the next thing you know, you’re the one getting screwed.”
Edward only grinned some more, then shrugged helplessly. “I like her. She’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. The minute I leave her, I want to see her again. Do you know how long it’s been since I met a girl I couldn’t wait to see again?”
Emmett shook his head sadly. “Yep. You’re screwed.”
“Never, that’s how long,” Edward continued, undaunted. “I can’t remember the last time anyone made me feel that way. At Juilliard, I was so focused on my career that I didn’t want to take the time to maintain an actual relationship. That’s why I kind of enjoyed the escort business at first. No-strings sex was something I’d tried like hell to have all through college, and finally I was not only getting it, I was getting paid for it. It was like winning the lottery twice.”
Edward’s grin faded. “But it didn’t take long to realize what a hollow victory it was. When the novelty wore off, so did the satisfaction. Before I got in this business, I never imagined the day would come when sex would just be routine, like brushing my teeth every morning. But that’s exactly where I was when I met Bella. I was at a point where I expected nothing. Wanted nothing. She couldn’t have caught me more off guard.”
Emmett was still shaking his head. “You poor bastard,” he said with a sigh. “You’re so fucked.”
Edward nodded in futility. “Fucked.”
“You’re not doing anything stupid, are you?” Emmett asked in a warning tone. “Like trying to see her on the side?”
Edward’s eyes flickered briefly to Emmett’s, then back out over the water. “I don’t know. I might be.”
Emmett’s groan was loud and foreboding. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. And if Rose asks me anything about why you’re acting screwy lately, I will plead total ignorance.”
“Am I acting screwy?”
“A little. Maybe no one else notices.”
“My date last night noticed.”
Emmett’s look was one of mild horror. “Don’t tell me. . .”
“Okay, I won’t tell you that I almost couldn’t get it up. I was so fucking tired, and I couldn’t get Bella out of my head, especially one week to the day after I was with her. . .”
“I am not hearing this.”
“Bella was a virgin. Did I tell you that? She was a fucking virgin and actually paid my sorry ass to be her first. How fucked up is that? It’s, like, inconceivable to me. And yet that’s what she wanted. I was who she wanted. And she still wants me. She still sees something in me. . .”
Emmett groaned in defeat. His friend was far more gone than he ever suspected.
“How old is she, anyway? She looked young.”
“She’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks,” Edward admitted, feeling a little sheepish.
Emmett groaned more loudly. “She’s still in college? That is trouble, my friend. With a capital ‘T.’ She’s too young.”
“She’s not that young -”
“She’s too young,” he reiterated sharply. “Forget about it. Call her up in a couple of years after she graduates and see if there’s still something there. Maybe by then you’ll have your finances in order enough to quit the business. But you’re crazy if you’re considering trying to keep something going with this girl right now.”
Emmett could see his friend’s reluctance to follow his advice. He turned sideways in his chair, leaning in to look Edward straight in the eyes. “I’m serious, man. You need to let this one go.”
Edward’s face had an expression Emmett had never seen before, a strange combination of desperation and determination.
“That’s the thing,” he said, his voice pulled tight as a drum. “I don’t think I can.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Alice Cullen stared at the book store queues in utter dismay.
"Disgust" was more like it. She couldn’t even see the ends of the lines at first. They snaked through the store like dancing Chinese dragons on a congested parade route through Chinatown. She thought she’d found the end of one until a large, pasty-faced girl glared at her and barked, “Get to the back of the line! No cuts.”
Alice hoisted her basketful of books higher on her hip and followed the string of people like a trail of breadcrumbs until she was almost out the front door.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, settling in for the long haul to reach a register. Edward was right - she shouldn’t have procrastinated.
Edward was always right, much to her annoyance. Well, about most things. She would never agree with his decision to be an escort, even though the mountain of debt their grandmother had accrued looked insurmountable back then. She always thought there had to be a better way, especially with the talent he possessed. Even when Edward pointed out to her that he was making five times more money as an escort than he would have as a symphony pianist, and received a car and wardrobe allowance to boot, she kept trying to come up with a better idea. But she was only a teenager in high school, working as many part-time hours as she could manage in order to pitch in. She didn’t have any easy answers.
But Edward thought he did. He even tried to tell her it was his dream job - it was every man’s dream job. Alice knew better. She might have believed him if he’d been some womanizing man-whore all his life, but he was always quiet and even a little shy, never quite realizing just how attractive he was to the opposite sex. He was so absorbed in his musical ambitions that everything else, including girls, came second. That’s why it killed her to watch him cut himself off from his lifelong dream just to take care of her and their grandmother, and to save that stupid old house. He’d treated his budding music career as if it were a limb he’d had to sever to get out of a trap, leaving it behind without so much as a single look back.
But she saw that phantom limb haunting him still, the ghost of it lingering in his wistful eyes. The pain of his sacrifice made her angry sometimes - made her wish horrible, irrational things. She often found herself hoping her grandmother would die soon, and then hated herself immediately afterward. But the truth was, so much of the woman she loved had disappeared already that the shell remaining seemed to exist primarily as a cruel joke on all of them. If Edward weren’t paying for Emily’s nursing home care, he might be able to handle the mortgages with a regular job instead of the quasi-illegal one to which he’d resorted. She knew why he was so attached to the house, and everything in it. It was all that remained of the family they’d both lost too soon.
Alice finally set her heavy shopping basket on the floor with a thud and an irritated sigh. She heard a soft chuckle in the queue to her left. She looked across a couple racks of U-Dub apparel to see a cute blond-haired boy giving her a lopsided grin. He nodded down at the floor where his own overflowing basket of books lay, then gave it a kick as his line inched forward.
“I decided I’d save my weight-lifting for the gym,” he drawled in explanation. His accent earmarked him as a recent Seattle import from the south.
Alice giggled. “I’m saving my weight-lifting for. . . never,” she replied.
He let out a short, deep laugh at that. “At least you’re honest about it.”
She shrugged and gave her own basket a kick after the person ahead of her moved up. “If we ever decide to take up soccer, though, we ought to be pros by the time we get to the register.”
The blond boy’s grin deepened. “I like how you think.”
“I like how you talk. Where are you from?”
“Texas. Houston, originally,” he added.
“Really? Cool. Are you a freshman?” she asked hopefully.
“No, a junior. But I just transferred here from Texas Tech, so I kind of feel like one.”
“Well, I’m new to U-Dub, but not to Seattle. Maybe I can show you around sometime.” Alice never believed in beating around the bush, and she already liked this Texas transplant, with his easy manner and easier smile.
“I’d like that,” he said, his cheeks coloring slightly. He looked a little bashful, and it nearly drove her mad with attraction.
“I’m Alice, by the way,” she called over the clothes racks, leaning through the t-shirts and offering her hand. “Alice Cullen.”
“Jasper Whitlock,” he replied, reaching through some sweatpants to grasp her hot little fingers in his. “It’s a pleasure.”
She squeezed his strong hand for a moment before letting go. “It most certainly is,” she said under her breath.
“Come again?”
“Oh, I hope to,” she answered with a grin.
Twenty feet ahead, Bella Swan’s ears had perked up. Amidst the babble surrounding her station, she was sure she had heard the name “Cullen.” Absolutely positive, in fact. She craned her neck and looked down the line, and the line of the register across from hers, vainly hoping to see Edward in the throng. But she realized quickly enough that she would have recognized that gravity-defying hair of his, sticking up above the mops of tamer, shorter heads around him. Her brief surge of excitement quickly died and she continued to scan books with the bored precision of a robot.
Alice and Jasper each reached their registers at approximately the same time and gave each other knowing grins across the aisle before lifting their baskets in unison.
“The finish line!” she exclaimed, which made Jasper emit one of those deep chuckles that already made a little zing of excitement shoot through her veins.
She slammed the heavy shopping basket atop the counter and gave the cashier a triumphant look. The girl’s brown eyes widened for a moment, and then she let out a laugh as she looked into Alice’s exultant face.
“Hey, reaching this cash register has been the ultimate triumph, like completing the Boston marathon. It’s practically the pinnacle of my weekend,” she said. “Which doesn’t say much about my weekend, does it?”
She let out a rueful laugh, and the cashier joined her. When she began to lift her books from the basket, Alice quickly dove in to help her.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” the brown-eyed girl said, shooing her hand away.
“Are you kidding? You’re the one standing here doing heavy lifting all day. Let me get them. Besides, I’d better get used to hauling them around campus, right?”
“Right,” the cashier agreed. She let Alice retrieve the books and hand them to her one by one so she could scan them.
“Teamwork,” Alice told her with a grin.
The girl bit her lip and grinned. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“De nada,” Alice replied, digging through her purse for her wallet. She handed her student I.D. to the cashier, who ran it through the sensor and then checked the signature on the back. Suddenly the girl’s dark eyes widened, and she stared up at Alice with a stunned expression.
“What - is it declined?” Surely not. Edward didn’t let things like exceeded credit limits happen.
“No, it’s fine,” the girl answered, staring at the card again, then Alice. “It’s just - you aren’t related to Edward Cullen, are you?”
Alice’s eyes narrowed. Edward only used the surname “Cullen” when he was escorting. He didn’t like to use his real name, though he never said why. Alice figured it was his way of removing himself slightly from what he was doing, though he’d often said that he should just change his name to “Cullen,” to match that of his only surviving relatives. Either way, if this girl knew him as Edward Cullen, then she knew him through Renaissance Escorts.
Alice gave her a quick once-over. She didn’t know what Edward’s clients were usually like, but she couldn’t imagine that this girl was typical. She was young and attractive, if a bit awkward. What would she be doing hiring a date?
“Edward is my brother,” she replied. She figured this was a good test. Anyone who really knew Edward would know he was an only child, though Alice always considered him her brother. She was barely five when their parents died. She had only a few faded memories of them, but she had tons of memories of ten-year-old Edward moving into Em’s house with her, being her playmate and later protector, just like a brother would.
“Brother?” The cashier’s forehead crinkled and her face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry. I think it must be a different Edward Cullen, then.”
Alice’s interest was piqued. “Maybe,” she said. “How do you know him?”
The girl’s eyes flashed with something that looked a little like embarrassment. “He’s a friend of mine, that’s all,” she said, averting her gaze as handed Alice her I.D.
“I’m meeting a friend.” Edward’s words from the other day echoed in Alice’s ears. She studied the cashier again with interest. She wasn’t even sure what Edward’s type was, but if he had one, this girl might be it. Pretty, but not fussy; hard-working, honest-looking.
“Did you meet him Friday morning for breakfast?” Alice asked point blank.
The girl’s eyes popped open again. “Yeah. Did he. . . mention me?”
Alice glanced surreptitiously at her nametag. “As a matter of fact, he did, Bella.”
The girl’s cheeks turned bubble-gum pink and her lips stretched into a bashful smile. Geez, what was with all these self-conscious, shy types? Alice was surrounded by them. She took a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure the other bashful one, Jasper, hadn’t escaped during her conversation. He seemed to be lingering at the end of the counter, checking his bag, doing a book count. Shit, she didn’t have much time - she didn’t want that one to get away.
She turned curious eyes back to Bella, wondering how she’d met Edward, and exactly what she meant to him. He obviously meant something to her. But Edward had that effect on most women without even realizing it, the oblivious fool.
“Listen. Edward isn’t really my brother, but he might as well be. I love him to death and I want nothing more than to see him happy. And the other morning, when he was leaving to meet you, he actually looked happy for the first time in a long time.”
Bella looked even more pleased, if a little flustered; and Alice realized that this girl was one-hundred-percent gone over her cousin.
The question was, how did he feel about Bella?
Alice whipped her neck to the side to make sure Jasper hadn’t left; he was ambling toward the door. She turned back to face Bella, then scrambled in her purse for a pen and some paper.
“This gum wrapper will have to do,” she muttered. “Give me your phone number, would you? I’d like to talk to you some time about Edward. If that’s okay,” she added hurriedly.
Bella’s eyes were round and fawn-like once more. “Sure,” she said, then rattled off the numbers. Alice scribbled furiously and jammed the paper and pen back in her purse.
“Thanks, Bella. It was great to meet you. I’ll call you soon!”
And with that she was sprinting for the door, not caring how forward that might look to the laid-back Jasper Whitlock.
Bella stood gaping after her, wondering what had just happened. The loud smack of another customer’s books hitting her countertop diverted her attention from the aftermath of Hurricane Alice. She had no choice but to return to the drudgery of her job and hope that particular storm would revisit her soon.
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