When I spot Bella coming toward me in jeans and a white lacy blouse, I realize I need to readjust my pants. I don't know how she manages to make jeans look so sexy, but it could be the blazer, or the hair, or the boots. All of it adds up to my gorgeous Bella; at least today I'm in slightly better than jeans and a concert t-shirt.
I'm proud to greet her, taking her hand and kissing her wrist where her pulse flutters. She smiles and blushes before kissing my cheek, stretching up on her toes to reach. I murmur how good she smells as I turn her and aim us towards the table we're occupying. She thanks me almost shyly, then says hello to everyone seated at the small round table.
My new coach stands; he's taller than me, wider and more heavily muscled. He looks like he should be playing football, but his love was always soccer. He told me he was never agile enough to play at his size, but he enjoys coaching instead. His wife is beautiful and statuesque, and she somehow looks perfect by his side as she stands as well.
"Bella, this is Emmett, my coach, and his wife, Rosalie." Everyone shakes hands, Emmett touching her shoulder as he says hello. The women compliment each other on jewelry and shoes, you know, things I don't understand.
"I hope I didn't keep everyone waiting," Bella says as we sit.
"I told them you had a prior engagement. How did the tumor removal go?"
Rose gasps. "You weren't at the hospital, were you?"
Bella looks like she's going to spit out the water she's sipping, so I intervene. "Sorry, Rose, that's my childish sense of humor. She was breaking up with her boyfriend."
"It went worse than I expected, which is why I'm a little late," she says wryly, looking at me. "He threw quite a few insults, told me he was going to make a scene the next time he was in front of the camera. Called Victoria in front of me." She takes a breath. "He says he only proposed because we make the perfect couple on-air."
"Wow," Emmett says.
I nod. "Yup, he's a loser."
"Enough about that, can we order? I'm dying to try the lobster bisque." Bella tries to change the subject, so I figure she's not comfortable talking about this in front of people she just met.
Rose is incredibly nice, and I catch snippets of the ladies' conversation. I hear her telling Bella that she watches her on TV every morning, and asks her how she gets her hair to look like that. I tune them back out as Emmett starts talking about the upcoming schedule. We have a few more months before the season officially starts, and the true hardcore practice will begin after the holidays.
"What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?" I ask.
Bella gives me a big grin. "I forgot to tell you, I heard from Charlie today. He wants me to come home for the week. We can go together."
I can feel the enormous smile that breaks out over my face. I can finish all the minor details of the move that week we're back, and I get to spend the holiday with Bella and her dad.
"That's great. What about Christmas?"
"Do you want to spend it here, or with your parents?" she asks.
Rose speaks up. "Where are your parents, Edward? Are they in Arizona?"
"My parents live in Chicago, where I'm from. I got a soccer scholarship to the University of Arizona, then I signed on with the Arizona United, where I've played for 5 years."
"Do you normally go home for Christmas?" Emmett asks.
I look to Bella. "Yes. Chicago is beautiful at Christmas." We never had the chance to go together, and we've always spent that time apart. Yeah, baby, I can finally spoil her and show her around my hometown.
She smiles gently. "I would love to see Chicago this December."
oOo oOo
After parting ways with Bella at the restaurant, I head back to my apartment for a shower and a nap. I didn't sleep well the previous night, and I realize it's because I can't stop thinking about when Bella left me. She made it clear that it was best for the both of us to separate, and I'm sure she was right. Her career was moving in one direction, and mine in another. Still, I remember clearly how broken I was after she moved.
I'm a drunken mess on the floor of my living room, but there's no one to care. My only give a shit is that my parents might be looking for me. I'm supposed to call my mom, I think. Everything is hazy with the booze, and I'm feeling good and fuzzy, and shitty as fuck at the same time. I'm coherent enough to realize I'm crying, and I think snot is running down my face. Who the fuck cares? The only person to give a fuck is gone.
I feel like the biggest loser. My love left me for the rainiest fucking state in the universe. I thought I was tough and proud of myself for signing with the Arizona team, and then she drops her bombshell. The timing couldn't have been worse, really. The ink was hardly even dry on my contract tying me to the desert for five years, and she's offered a job to the- what the fuck do I call a place that constantly rains? There. She's gone to the place that rains all the time.
I lay down, right on the carpet, and then listen is disbelief as it starts to rain. People talk of the rain as a steady sound or a gentle pitter-patter, but to me raindrops on the dry porch crackle like an old radio coming to life. They hit hard, no brakes, no slowing for the impact of the ground. Only after the dry dusty planks have a new watery sheen does the sound soften. And I fall asleep.
oOo oOo
There's nothing quite like waking up from a dream/nightmare about the hell I lived through five years ago, feeling like it actually happened last night and like I'm still hungover. There are tiny men playing a loud tune as they stomp around in my brain, and my mouth is a dried out cavern full of bats. I run my tongue around the cavern, trying to dislodge the bats, but it's not working. Groaning, I roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. After taking the longest piss of my life, I rummage in the medicine cabinet for mouthwash. That helps rid the flittermice, but my head is still pulsing like the bass in a nightclub.
Success! I dry swallow several of the painkillers I find before making my way to the kitchen, fishing out the carton of orange juice and downing half of what's left. I'm thinking eggs and bacon would improve my mood, so I get to work.
Satisfied with my interpretation of Mr. Belvedere, I sit at the counter on the only stool I own and scarf down my breakfast. Squinting, I find the clock on the microwave reads 10:25. I'm glad it's Saturday; I didn't miss Bella's show by oversleeping. Speaking of Bella, I reach over to my phone and swipe the screen on. Pulling up my text messages, I send her a corny 'good morning, beautiful' and ask what she's up to today.
I'm rinsing my plate and the skillet when I hear my phone ding back at me. Cursing, I turn off the water and dry my hands, grabbing the phone and seeing that she's being naughty this morning.
~ Laying around naked in my bed. You?
Fuck, that's hot. My cock stirs, and I can't blame him.
~ I'm just finishing up my breakfast dishes, but I'd much rather join you
~ Lol, I'm sure. I am a little lonely.
~ Care to show me? A guy can dream.
Then an image pops up in the text field, and my jaw drops. She's playing dirty now, sending me a picture of herself all wrapped up in her sheet and nothing else.
~ Wow, Miss Swan
~ That's all you've got?
~ I've got SO much more than that
~ Maybe you should take care of that.
~ I want YOU to take care of it for me
~ Maybe one day soon.
I sigh. I don't want to pressure her, and I'm not sure she's up for phone sex.
~ You're killing me, beautiful. What do you want to do today?
~ Pike Place?
We make our plans, and I hurry to shower and dress so we can start our day. I offered to pick her up, but Bella still seems shy about me coming to her place. Instead we meet there, on First Avenue with the large red letters spelling out 'Public Market Center' in front of us. Her dress makes my mouth water, its pinkish color looking gorgeous against her skin. Her long grey boots are made of sinfully soft suede, and I sincerely want to drop to my knees and run my hands all over her luscious body. Instead, my hands go to her waist, my fingers long enough to stroke the skin of her back through her dress. She sucks in a breath and exhales shakily.
"I missed you," she says huskily.
My grin is quick and wicked. "So did we."
"We?" she asks. I take the opportunity to lean in to her ear.
"My cock and I."
Her eyes widen in surprise, and she inhales sharply through her nose. Suddenly, I'm thinking to myself that saying that to her may not have been such a good idea. I'm just about to apologize when she smiles and bursts into laughter.
"Oh, Edward, you should have seen the look on your face just now," she says through her laughter. "You looked like your mommy was going to take away your new lightsaber."
I feel my face start to flush, then I lean in and say, "As long as it ends up in your hands, I don't care what happens to my lightsaber."
I take her hand and we start walking through the market. As we stroll, we talk about silly things that happened to us while we were apart; staying away from heavier subjects. I suppose at some point we'll have to discuss more important topics, but today isn't that day. Today, I want us to be happy and to have a real, second first date.
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