It’s my turn to pick the kids up Monday afternoon, and after our little chat the day before in the book store, I’m more than a little anxious to see how Edward will behave around me... in public.
I mean, we aren’t much of anything right now, but still, I think we shared something yesterday.
Not what I really wanted to share, mind you... that kind of sharing requires clothes off, saliva-swapping, and unlawful carnal knowledge, if you know what I mean.
No. We had a connection, and for the first time it was more than the sexual stuff. He was... nice. Our conversation flowed after the first few awkward minutes, and I found myself smiling... a lot.
So when the kids run out to the drop-off area with no Mr. Cullen in sight, I admit I’m sorely disappointed.
That ends when my phone buzzes with a text message. G and Lily are busy strapping themselves in, chatting away.
Sorry I missed you, parent came in to speak with me.
Hmm. It’s ok. Unless it’s Lauren, then it’s not okay. At all.
Um. No. Although she did show me her new airbrushed nails today.
I giggle.
“What are you laughing at, Mommy?”
“Nothing, baby. Just responding to a text.”
“Is it Aunt Alice? You always laugh at her text messages.”
“No, it’s not Alice. It’s another friend of mine.” I don’t really want to get into it. You never want to get into it with a five-year-old, quite honestly.
I type another quick reply. Let me guess, teddy bears?
Flowers.
Oh, that’s not too bad.
It is when they’re supposed to be orchids and they look like 10 tiny vaginas.
I snort. Loudly.
G and Lily start giggling behind me.
“Mommy, you’re weird.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Wow. I’m so sorry you had to see that.
Edward’s message is almost instantaneous. Yeah, so am I. I’m a bit traumatized.
As I pull out into traffic I put the phone away, because you know... I’m not one of those people.
Safety first, people. It’s a car, not a phone booth.
When I park in front of Angela’s house and the kids rush through her front door, I grab my bag and notice the green blinking light of a missed text message.
So, dinner?
There goes my stupid, goofy smile again.
Sure. What did you have in mind?
Up to you. I could make dinner, or we could go out.
Hmm. Something to consider. On the one hand, I’m not sure I’m ready to go to Edward’s home for dinner. It might be too soon and he might expect stuff.
I might expect stuff too. More like demand it.
I don’t know. I just met the guy. Let’s be real.
Even though his tongue is very familiar with my mine.
But still.
On the other hand, though, if we go out to a public place in Forks--where everyone knows your name-- we might be creating the biggest story this small town has seen since old, crazy Mr. Banner went streaking though his front yard claiming the aliens were out to get him when I was nine.
But, I’m not ashamed. And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let a few gossips stop me from enjoying a dinner with a friend-- who happens to be my son’s teacher, and super-friggin-hot.
How about dinner out?
Friday night? 7? Can I pick you up?
Can he pick me up? Sure, he can pick me right up and throw me up against the wall and...
Ok.
I hold myself back from telling him I want to go out tomorrow night. Lord knows I want to see him, but it’s a school night. My phone vibrates again.
I’ll see you tomorrow ;)
Emoticons. Interesting.
LOL. Yeah, well, I gotta stay hip, you know. ;)
God, even his winking emoticon looks like him. It’s a sad state of affairs when a semi-colon and parenthesis makes me hot and bothered.
See you tomorrow then.
A throat clearing nearby startles me. I glance up.
“Woah, who’s got ya all goofy and blushing? It wouldn’t happen to be a certain teacher, would it?” Angela asks as I step onto her porch.
“Well, since you ask, yes, it was a certain teacher we know. He asked me to dinner.” I mumble that last part as I walk through her door.
Angela gasps and her eyes widen like saucers. “Holy crap!” she whispers, looking around to make sure the kids were out of earshot. “When?”
“Friday. We’re going to dinner. Out.” I cringe.
“Ooh. That’s like putting out a full-page ad in the Forks Chronicle,” she muses, leading me to the kitchen where we take our usual stools.
“Yeah, I know. But, there’s nothing that says we can’t see each other, right? We’re two consenting adults,” I tell her, half trying to convince myself as well.
“Of course there’s nothing wrong with seeing him, Bella. And plus, you just met him; you haven’t even kissed, so it’s all good. It’s like two platonic friends going out to dinner.”
Oh. That’s right. I never told her.
To be fair, I was gonna tell her. It was just that at the beginning, I wasn’t sure how Angela would respond. But now that I know she basically wants me to jump his disco stick, I figure it’s a good idea to finally fill her in on what happened the night at the bar. Club. Whatever.
So I do. I tell her everything.
And through it all she sits wide-eyed, as if watching the cliffhanger to a great movie.
“Shit.” she simply says when I’m done.
“Yeah.”
“That must’ve been hot.”
“Quite.” I nod.
“Wow.”
“Exactly.”
As I say my goodbyes with G in tow, Angela gives me a hug and whispers, “You better tap that, and soon, my friend.”
When I lean away to see her face, she looks pointedly at me.
“Oh, Angela, you just don’t know...”
“Oh, I have a strange feeling I do. But for what it’s worth, I can see the way he looks at you. The rest of those moms got nothin’ on you, girl,” she says sweetly, giving me a wink.
I just smile and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.
...
The rest of the week flies by. Edward and I exchange several text messages, each skimming the flirting line without being too suggestive.
Needless to say, I’m a horny mess by Friday afternoon.
My Rabbit has waged a revolt and has ceased to work. It must be shocked by its recent nightly usage.
After dropping Garrett off at my parents and admitting to my mother that I, in fact, am going on a date (and suffering through the less-than-appropriate advice that she’s memorized from some morning ladies’ talk show), I go home to prepare.
I pluck, bathe, wash, paint nails and toes, and shave.
Not everything.
It’s neat down there, don’t worry. I just don’t like the idea of looking like a pre-pubescent girl. If he ends up not liking it, then tough shit. No one’s worth the agony of waxing down there.
I’m kind of in a rush by six-forty-five and hurry to dress and fix my hair. All in all, I think I look pretty darn good.
My doorbell rings at exactly seven-oh-eight.
When I open the door, Edward is grinning, his eyes roaming up and down my body. Which is fine, because quite frankly, I’m doing the same thing.
This man. This man.
Navy blue, long sleeved, v-neck sweater, dark wash jeans, glasses, hair...
Well, his hair...see... yeah...
Still no words.
It’s crazy, bronze sex.
That’s the best I can do.
“You look really good.” His voice feels like it’s caressing my skin.
No, I’m not making this shit up.
“So do you,” I say softly before he leans down and presses a light kiss on my cheek.
Swoonorama.
“Ready to go?”
I nod and we’re off.
...
“So who has Bree tonight?” I ask, staring right at his beautiful jawline. I can’t look away.
“She’s having a sleep over at a friend’s house. And Garrett?”
“Grandparents.”
“Ah, yes. Bree would’ve stayed over with hers tonight, but they’re in Port Angeles and I didn’t have the time to drive over and back here.”
“Oh, so is that why you moved to our little town, then?” My curiosity is killing me.
“Partly. My dad retired and said he wanted to slow down. Mom was all about it, since she had him all to herself now, so they sold their big house in the city and moved. I was by myself with Bree and even though we managed, I’d rather Bree have her grandparents around. And I guess I needed to slow down too.”
“Very wise of you. Where are we going, by the way?” There’s really only three places that would suit our outing tonight, and of course that bar... the bar.
“How about Tino’s? I hear it’s pretty decent Italian.”
“Sounds good.” Pretty quiet place, serves about thirty-five, killer garlic bread... which I will not be partaking in tonight. Don’t want to scare him away with the dragon breath.
We continue to small talk before he opens the door to the restaurant for me and from that point on, the evening progresses seamlessly. Everything’s so natural with him. We make each other laugh, and when he talks about his daughter, his face lights up; it makes something inside my chest bloom and I want nothing more than to climb over this damn dinner table and straddle him.
Watching him eat is obscene. His lips wrapping around the fork when we share a tiramisu has me all tied in knots, and I nearly die when he feeds me a forkful of creamy goodness. It doesn’t escape my notice that his emerald green eyes are staring at my lips.
I might be licking them on purpose.
Sue me.
When we leave the restaurant, his hand rests on the small of my back. My eyes catch a couple of people I know staring at us curiously. Great. We’ll be the talk of the town tomorrow for sure.
He drives me home as we joke some more and I flip through his iPod.
There’s hesitation when he walks me up to the door. I can see him warring with something, his face reflecting conflicting emotions. I bet I know what that something is.
So I help him out.
My lips meet his softly at first. But he needs no coaxing before our kiss turns deeper. Hands in hair, bodies pressed together—it’s a replica of the same heat from our first kiss that fateful night.
I come up for air, resting my forehead against his. “Come inside for a drink,” I breathe.
For a moment, he looks worried, tentative.
“Just a drink. Nothing more,” I assure him.
He sighs and nods as I open the door and lead him through.
“Make yourself at home,” I say over my shoulder as I grab two wine glasses and fill them halfway.
When I return to the living room, I find Edward on my sofa holding a picture frame. It’s from our trip to Disneyland last year.
“That was a fun trip, G had a great time.”
“I can tell. You look happy too,” he says, taking the glass from my hand.
“What can I say, I’m crazy for Mickey. Then again, Mickey pinched my ass, so I guess the feeling was mutual,” I add and Edward chuckles.
“Hey, I’m just gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Turn on the TV or the stereo if you want. I’ll be right back.”
“No problem. I’ll be here,” he says, lazily swirling his glass.
I freshen up and make sure I don’t have anything stuck between my teeth. I also decide to quickly smooth some lotion over my legs, but I notice something.
Oh, no. Please no.
I frantically search my medicine cabinet.
“Shit.”
And this, my friends, is why I’m a big, fat fail.
Running down the length of my right leg is an unshaven line of hair.
I’ve been walking around with that beautiful piece of ass next to me all night with a line of hair on my leg.
And there are no more razors.
Fuck. My. Life.
Of course this happens to me.
It’s not like the hairs are super long, but enough for me to notice.
And he’ll notice. Damn it.
I’ll just have to make sure nothing happens tonight.
Yeah. That’s it. Act like nothing’s going on.
I take a deep breath and stare at myself in the mirror.
“Ok, Bella. Go out there and be cool. He probably won’t notice.”
Yeah, right.
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