Not Meant To Be - Chapter 10

 

Chapter 10

Song: No Way Out by Theory of a Deadman

Edward called Tuesday when I was hanging out at Felix's house with Rosalie and Jacob. End.

Edward called Wednesday while I was at the last bike night of the summer with everyone. I think Garrett may have heard it because he raised his eyebrows at me when the phone rang.End.

Edward called Thursday while I was playing pool with a few of the regulars at Rosalie’s bar. End.

Edward called Friday when Rosalie and I were on our way to dinner with her parents. End.

“Edward?” she asked. It wasn't actually necessary for her to ask, she knew that was his ringtone.  She was providing me with an opportunity to talk about it.

“He keeps calling. I thought that whole band-aid thing was supposed to end this. I let him apologize. Why does he keep calling?” I whined.  I wasn’t sure if I was ready to speak to him again or how to act when we did talk.

“If you'd answer your phone you might be able to find out,” she teased.  “If you don’t want to talk to him anymore, then tell him to fuck off.  Either way, you have to answer the phone and get it over with.”

“You’re smiling? Stop smiling!” It was funny I was telling her that because I couldn't keep myself from grinning.  I knew she was right, just like last time.

I was torn. Every time I heard Edward's ringtone and saw his name on my caller ID since the last time we spoke, I got a little excited. He still wanted me. He wasn't willing to give up on me even after the verbal beating I gave him. If he wanted to have sex with someone other than his wife, I knew he would have no problem finding someone to fill that role. He was, by far, the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, and charm just oozed out of him. I couldn't bring myself to believe that he wanted just anyone, though. He had called me over and over until I finally spoke to him, and now he was doing it again.  No matter how hard I tried to thwart his efforts, he always managed to break down my walls.  Where he had been so cautious and on edge with me before, he was now calm, collected, and determined. For some reason I could not fully understand, he wanted something from me.

I could hardly deny the connection I felt with Edward or the way I was drawn to him.  He made me believe that he felt it too, but it still didn’t make sense.  Edward had this ability to overwhelm me – body, mind, and soul.  I could feel my better judgment slip away wherever he was involved, and that scared the living hell out of me.

It is incredibly difficult to resist someone you're insanely attracted to; it's even harder when you have a connection with them. It's damn near impossible when they are so persistent you don't even have a moment to think of anything other than them.

The worst of it all was that I cared.  It had started as amazing sex, but now it felt like something between us had shifted.  I was afraid that if we went back to our old ways together, I would risk losing control.  I couldn’t allow that to happen, but I wasn’t sure I had the self-control to stay away from him.

Nothing makes sense.

Saturday morning, I was getting ready to meet my parents for breakfast when my phone rang.

What the fuck is he doing calling me at seven AM on a Saturday?

“What the fuck are you doing calling me at this time of day?” If a man was going to do this, I needed to know why.

“Good morning to you, too,” he chuckled. His voice was like sex.

Fuck me. Not literally...maybe.  Enough already, you’re on the phone, remember?

“Well?” I asked impatiently. I was in the middle of straightening my hair, and talking on the phone made that a little difficult. I switched the phone to speaker mode and propped it up on the bathroom counter.

“You won't answer my calls in the evening, so I decided to try the morning. Obviously it worked,” he said proudly.

I sighed loud enough that he would hear me, but didn't respond.

“How are you, Bella?”

“I'm fine,” I said flatly. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I care about you. I know I was a total shit to you, but I'll never do that again.”

“Again?” I snapped. “What makes you think you'll even have an opportunity?” I was feeling a little annoyed with his small talk and wished he would get to the point. Was there a point?  It was killing me that I couldn’t figure out his game or what his intentions were.  I wasn’t a plaything, and I did not appreciate early morning phone calls.  Had it not been for this breakfast date with my parents, I would still be in bed.

“I hope so. If you'll have me, that is. That's what I'm calling for, I guess. I don't want to lose you, Bella.”

“Lose me?” I couldn't hold back my maniacal laughter. What a ridiculous thing to say! “Lose me? You never had me!” My laughter continued.

“You know what I mean,” he replied softly.

“Obviously we’re seeing things differently then, Edward, because you and I are nothing to each other. We had sex a few times, but come on.” My tone and my words were harsher than what I really felt, but part of me knew he deserved it. I wanted him to feel awful, the way he had made me feel. If I could make him mad, maybe he would stop all this.  Allowing him to hurt me meant that I wasn’t in control.  I refused to get caught up in another James situation, even if I felt that Edward was completely different from my ex.

“Now you're the one fooling yourself,” he snapped back quickly. It wasn't mean, but definitely firm. He was trying to make a point.  His tone softened as he continued. “We may have only been together a few times, but we were both there. You know there's something between us, and I miss you. It may sound stupid to you, but I'm sure that if you were honest with yourself you'd see it too. I want us to stay friends, Bella. I'm not giving up on that.”

I was floored. Absolutely speechless. If you were honest with yourself you'd see it too. His words rang in my ears and repeated over and over in my mind, leaving me reeling. Friends. Friends? Any attempts I made to convince him – and myself – that there was nothing between us but the sex were futile.  He obviously wasn’t going to accept less than what he sought. 

“I've gotta go. I need to finish getting ready,” I said quickly.  I wasn’t prepared for this kind of conversation, and I needed time to think.

“I'll call you soon. Answer next time…please?”

“Bye, Edward,” I said without responding to his request.

How could I possibly not answer the next time he called?

. . . . . . . . . .

As promised, he called again.  I answered. We talked. It was awkward at first, mostly on my part. I just couldn't figure him out and it bugged the hell out of me. What did he want from me? He said that he felt our connection. He said he wanted us to be friends. Was that just code for trying to weasel his way back into my pants?

My efforts to avoid thinking about that were futile. I’m not saying I didn’t feel something for him because I did, but the whole situation left me feeling conflicted and confused much of the time.  Sex with Edward had been incredible. The first time we met, it was like fire burning in my blood. The night that we stayed at Mike's house for hours hanging out was unforgettable. The only sour memory was the way he had gotten all weird and spoken to me so...so...ugh.

But ohh, the sex…

His eyes burning with desire as his forehead pressed against mine.  Soft wet kisses all over my body.  The way he moved inside me – always with the ability to leave me wanting more.  His own unique Edward-scent that seemed to set something off inside me. How fascinated I was by each of his tattoos and the stories behind them.  The way he would tickle my belly lightly whenever his arm was wrapped around my waist…

Stop!

It was an assault on my mind - the battle between what my body craved and what my head knew was sensible.

I didn't trust him anymore. I don't mean sexually, it was more of a respect issue. He thought I was a careless whore. He thought I could turn into some crazy bitch that would purposely get pregnant or rat him out to his wife to ruin his marriage. That wasn't me. I went into this whole thing just having fun, and now my head was completely fucked up over him.

But if he really thought those things about me, why would he be so persistent? Why was it so important that I hear his apologies and accept them? Why did he want to be my friend?

There was no solid conclusion, no single answer I could find.

I should have walked away, changed my phone number and forgotten about Edward Cullen, but I couldn't.

I wanted to figure out everything there was to know about this man. I wanted to know what it was about me that made him act this way. I wanted to know why he was risking his family for me.

The only way I could possibly get any answers was to talk to him, so I did.  He called, we talked.

He kept calling. Two or three times a week, whenever he had a chance away from his wife. Sometimes I could answer, other times I couldn't. I didn’t call him. I knew that if I didn’t, he would try again within a few days, if not sooner.

Very slowly, we became friends.  We discussed work, music, our interests, and almost anything else we could think of…other than his marriage.

I heard a lot about sports cars and the specifications of their engines and body styles by year. I listened to stories about four-wheel drive, off-road vehicles in big mud pits. I learned that Edward was a musician – he played the guitar fairly well, but was better on the keyboard – and that he loved to “jam” in the garage while Finn played the drums.

I didn't ask questions about his wife. I didn't want to know anything about her, but I did ask about Finn. I loved kids, and couldn't resist hearing the stories, especially with the love and wonder that came through in Edward's voice when he did. I thought of it as his “dad voice.”

I resisted sharing more than superficial details of my life at first, but he managed to get me to loosen up a little. I told him about my family, but I mostly focused on my job and Rosalie. Those were safe subjects. I liked asking him about new CDs that came out because, somehow, he always had them before me. We both loved rock, modern rock especially. We would share our favorite songs, discuss lyrics, and argue over which were the best cuts on each album. There were lots of people out there who liked bands I did, but I had never known someone who liked almost all the same bands I did. It was a kinship we shared.

This all went on for weeks - the talking, sharing, and becoming friends – before he asked to see me again.

I was still hesitant to trust him, but he really had made an effort to get to know me and respect my boundaries.  We had indeed become friends.

. . . . . . . . . . .

In the time I had spent getting to know Edward, the rest of my life went on as usual. Summer ended, and with it went any hopes for nice enough weather to hang out in Felix's backyard or ride the bikes regularly.

I still saw Jacob several times a week, and nothing really changed about our routine. We were somewhere in between being a couple and being fuck buddies, as always. He took me out on little dates more often, but I never bothered to over think them. They weren't romantic events, just dinner, movies, or hanging out after work. Some days he would call me when we weren't together, other times I wouldn't hear from him for a day or two. My day to day life was so consumed with other people and events that it didn't really bother me.

Garrett started dating Chelsea - I use that term loosely - and he and I still hung out sometimes. He didn't call me everyday during lunch anymore, but we talked often enough. Every once in a while when things fell into place, we would hook up, but I pretty much stayed his Laid Back Chick. It was a nice arrangement. We gave each other a little variety every so often and a good laugh whenever that was needed.  It was an unconventional friendship, but I had a special affection for him.  He was more laid back than Jacob, and didn’t have complicated baggage like Edward.  Sometimes I felt like Garrett was the male version of me, and that’s why we got along so well. 

Rosalie had convinced me to start bartending with her regularly again, so I picked up shifts every Thursday and Friday night. After the first week, she said there was an immediate spike in her sales and tips those nights, and I definitely didn't mind an extra few hundred dollars each week. We had always been able to pull in a lot of money when we worked together, but this was better than ever. Frankly, it was worth the trouble of having a second job and losing two nights a week. We also loved that it was time we were guaranteed to get to spend together.

In between all of that, things were the norm. I occasionally spent time with some girls I worked with or sorority sisters who lived in or around the Seattle area. I flirted with different guys at the bar, but nothing ever happened with them. I talked to Emmett whenever I could. I went to visit my parents on most Sunday afternoons or had breakfast with them on Saturdays.

Life rolled on and I lived it, just as I always had. I kept control of whatever I could, and flexed my hot chick muscles to garner the attention I loved.

That was my life.

. . . . . . . . . .

I was hesitant to see Edward after his request, but I knew this time would come eventually. It's not as though we could go on forever just talking on the phone, could we? Hooking up with him again didn't bother me as much as the threat of losing the upper hand in things. I didn't want to make myself vulnerable to another berating. I didn't think he would do something like that again. I believed he had grown to trust me; I just wasn't convinced that I could trust him yet.

To maintain a healthy balance, I insisted on doing something in public. It would be neutral ground.  He was wary of that idea, but I convinced him that if we went into the city, chances were good he wouldn't see anyone he knew. If he did, it would be easy enough to play our meeting off as something work related or as me being an old friend of the family he ran into. We made plans to meet at our usual location, and then drive into Seattle together for dinner and drinks.

It was a Sunday afternoon when we met, four weeks since I had started talking to him again. He pulled up next to my car in his silver Volvo and got out, greeting me with a hug I hadn't expected. We drove into the city, listening to an old Verve Pipe album and making awkward small talk.  I didn’t rule anything out today, but I wasn’t sure what I should expect from him.

“Why does this feel so weird?” I finally asked, breaking the unspoken tension between us.

“I don't know. I guess I just wish I knew what you were thinking,” he said slowly. He took his eyes off the road momentarily, and I could see true curiosity in his expression.

I stared at him blankly, not sure what to say.

“Please, Bella. What's going on in there?” he pleaded.

I was hesitant as I searched my mind for an appropriate response. “I'm just trying to figure you out. I still can’t understand what we're doing.”

“We're going to Seattle,” he said in a poor attempt to ease the tension surrounding us.

“You know what I mean, Edward.”

We were silent for a few more minutes. I tried to think of something else to say or how to change the subject, but nothing came to me. I opened my mouth and snapped it shut several times, never finding the right words. I avoided his glances, but peaked through my hair to see if he was watching me.  It was becoming apparent that neither of us knew what kind of expectations we should have for this day together.

“Can't we just be here for a few hours?” he finally asked. “All I want is to spend this time with you and not think about anything else. Please, Bella.”

“Okay,” I nodded. I was unsure how else to respond, but it was a reasonable request. The way he said it, I believed him. I believed he wanted to focus on us today and nothing else. Those thoughts made my stomach flip and my heart swell. I was finally able to give him a genuine smile that met my eyes, and his smile was even brighter after seeing mine.

We went to a small fondue restaurant in an obscure shopping district. It was dark inside, with a red hue cast over our tables. We ordered the full meal – cheese, dinner and dessert courses – and talked with the same ease we had on the phone lately. We laughed at each other when we dripped gooey cheese or dropped pieces of food, and we took turns feeding one another chunks of chocolate covered fruit.

As Edward held the last chocolate covered strawberry to my lips, I felt a tiny drip of the white chocolate slide down the corner of my mouth. Dropping the fondue skewer on the table, he lifted his thumb to wipe it away, holding it to my lips. I sucked the sweet liquid off his finger and smiled up at him.

“You know, for two 'friends' this feels an awful lot like a date,” I mused.

He immediately stiffened in his chair, uncurling his fingers from beneath my chin and pulling his hand into his lap.

“It's not a date,” he snapped suddenly.  He wore the same expression as the last time we saw each other, and I was not going to put up with that bullshit again.

“Oh, don't you dare start this shit with me again, Edward,” I spat back at him. I was staring daggers, trying to convey that I was not in the mood for this.

He raked his fingers through his hair and stared back at me. “I just don't want you to get the wrong idea, okay?”

“Exactly what idea would that be?” I asked. My voice was laced with venom as I spoke. “You call me non-stop until I agree to be your friend and then take me to dinner and play erotic food games with me. Please enlighten me.”

“Bella…”

“Don't Bella me! You run so hot and cold with me that I have absolutely no clue what this is or what you want from me. What do you want from me? Sex? Friendship? A kick in the ass?”

His lips were pursed together tightly at my last comment, and I knew he was trying not to laugh. I realized why my little rant had incited that reaction and joined him in a quiet laugh, allowing my expression to soften.

“I’m not sure how this is supposed to work if you can’t trust me or at least take a joke,” I sighed in defeat.  “You're infuriating.”

“You're beautiful,” he smiled.

We sat there for a few moments looking at each other without speaking. I tried to read his eyes, to find something – anything – in his expression that would help me understand this frustrating man across the table from me.

I was the one to break the silence.

“What is all this?” I asked, waving my hand back and forth between us.  I just wanted to understand.

“This,” he gestured back at me, “is...I don't know. You're beautiful, funny, and caring…unlike anyone I've ever met. You've got an amazing body that you flaunt, yet when your clothes are off it's like you're waiting for approval. You don't see yourself clearly, Bella. You don't see how addictive your personality is or the way you can draw the attention of everyone in the room. I know you know you're hot and that you can get people to look at you and want you, but I don't think you understand how you hold onto that attention. It's not just your tits and curves. It's something in your smile and your eyes, and you are irresistible.”

I sat there in shock as he paused to push his hair back with both hands and groan quietly.

“I think about you constantly. I can't get you out of my head. When I'm away from you or not talking to you, you're always there. I want to hear about your day and talk about music because you always seem to pick out the lyrics that stab my heart. I want to see that smile you get when you blush, the one when you let your guard down. I want to see that intensity in your eyes when I make you feel so good that you scream my name. Dammit, Bella, I just want any part of you I can get.”

What.  The.  Fuck.  Was.  That?

He didn't just say all of that, did he? No one has ever said those kinds of things to me. Sure, I'm beautiful, I'm hot, I'm funny, blah, blah, blah.

But that? All that?  He can't be serious, can he?  That was quite the monologue just to get in my pants.

Why? Why on earth would this perfect specimen of a man – a married man – say, think, feel all those things about me?  It doesn't make any sense.

“Bella? Are you in there?”

“Huh? Yeah,” I said with barely a whisper. I was trying to will myself to meet his eyes again, but the thought of what might be in them right now frightened me.

If he was just saying that, I didn't think I could take the realization that it was nothing more than a game to fuck me.  Yet if he did mean all of that, wow, just wow. What are the implications of that kind of confession?

Lost in my daze, I realized that I was being pulled up by my elbow. This shocked me out of my thoughts enough to look up and see Edward smirking down at me. It was that gorgeous half smile that I loved. The smile I imagined was all for me. His Bella Smile. I stood with him and let him take my hand to lead me out of the restaurant. We walked through the alley that led to the small parking lot out back, and I was suddenly jolted against a brick wall.

“Ooph!” I gasped at the impact of my back hitting the cold, hard surface. Before I had the opportunity to think or process what had just happened and why, Edward's mouth was smashed against mine. It was hard, lustful, and passionate. His hands held my face with a firm grip that almost hurt, and then trailed down to my shoulders, securing me against him. I gave in to this sudden rush of heat and passion and opened myself up to him. His tongue was hot and determined against mine.  He tasted like Edward and chocolate, fruit and want. My hands slid up his back, dragging my nails along the way and securing them in his disheveled hair. I wrapped my fingers around the thick strands and fisted it, pulling and pushing to keep his face connected to mine.

“I need to feel you, Bella,” he growled into my neck when I finally allowed him access. His hips thrust forward forcefully, ensuring that I felt his arousal. He bent his knees slightly to even himself with me and bucked forward again, grinding directly between my legs and making me whimper at the contact. I was instantly wet and on fire for him.

“Not here,” I panted, pulling his head back by his hair and making him look up at me from the feast of my neck he had been enjoying.

I released his hair and brought my hands around to the front of his shoulders. With as much strength as I could muster, I shoved him away from me and quickly ducked out of his grasp and away from the wall. When I spun around to him, I could see that my break in our connection had caught him completely off guard. He was still hovering over the wall, one arm reflexively extended against the brick to brace himself.

As I retreated, I was pulled back by needy hands at my hips. The impact caused him to thrust into the small of my back, and I reached behind me for his neck as he planted kisses from my shoulder to my ear. I felt like I was dragging him behind me, trying to get to his car with him clinging to my back, weakening my knees with each kiss and touch he gave me.

When we reached the silver vehicle, the lone car in the tiny lot, I tried to break away from him and get into the passenger side door.

“No!” he said, yanking my arm. “I can't wait. I need you right now.”

I watched him slide into the backseat, never releasing my wrists. I scrambled in as quickly as I could manage and pulled the door closed behind me. Silently, I thanked his pretentious ass for blacked-out tinted windows. I straddled him as he sat in the middle of the long seat, instantly returning to our feverish kissing. He tugged at my sweater, pulling it over my head hastily, and I quickly undid the buttons of his as I sucked on his soft lower lip.

“Fuck Bella...so amazing,” he panted. He was palming one of my breasts while his other hand reached around and unclasped the lacy red bra I had worn for him.

We fought with our pants in the awkward confines of his car, not able to get them off fast enough for our feverish desire. He didn't even bother to remove the tiny thong I was wearing, opting to shove it aside instead as his fingers plunged into me. I moaned his name, begging for more, and reached for him at the same time, stroking and panting, getting ready.

“Enough!” he yelled suddenly. He shoved me back in his lap and dug into the pocket of his discarded jeans for a condom. He slowed down momentarily to open the package with care and unroll it onto himself. I understood his action, understood why he wanted to take care not to puncture or rip the barrier that would stand between us. I understood, and I let him do so without complaint because it was what he needed to feel secure with me.

Without hesitation, his hungry pace resumed and he pulled me back to him by my waist, lifting me slightly and guiding himself into me. One strong thrust and he was engulfed within me, but after a few ravenous jolts he slowed again. He lifted my gaze from our united centers so that I met his eyes. Hooded lids greeted me and stayed there. Green against brown, a silent conversation as he lifted me up and slid me back down on him with torturous intention. The creeping pace allowed me to really feel his width and savor his length, and I could tell by the way his jaw stretched forward that he was delighting in all of me as well.

When it became unbearable, I took control, moving over him, touching, tasting and watching until we both neared our peak. As I came, my body arched forward, forcing my forehead to rest against his before collapsing into him to recover. Panting and smiling like a drunken fool, I returned to his eyes and dove into them. There were no words I could say in that moment, but I thought I saw a hint of...what is that?...reverence in there.

We stayed locked in our intimate embrace; me in his lap, him mindlessly brushing the back of his fingers against my breasts, ribs, and arms. We talked. Not about the sex or anything else of merit, we just talked like we always did. I pushed back that one piece of hair that always seems to fall in his eyes, and he stroked the length of my now messy locks.

When we noticed that the darkness had fully set in, we gathered our clothes and wiggled around to redress ourselves.

“Ouch!” he teased when I accidentally elbowed him in the stomach while trying to pull on my jeans.

“Sorry!” I offered, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“You’re forgiven.  It was a lot easier to take these off than it is to get dressed in a car, huh?”

We finished and stepped out of the back, straightening our clothes before taking our seats up front.

Our ride home was much more pleasant than the drive to the city earlier. We spoke freely and smiled more, and the trip passed much quicker this time. Back at my car, he pulled me to him over the center console and gave me a long, delicate kiss. It was full of sweetness and affection, and his fingertips on my cheekbones left me with chills.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. I've missed you,” he whispered in my ear.

I wanted to sit there in my car and collect my thoughts for a few minutes before heading home, but I noticed that he was waiting for me to depart first. I smiled at his unexpected display of concern and pulled onto the road, stopping at the first parking lot I could find. With my head tipped back against the head rest I released the giggles I had been holding in too long. When I finally collected myself, I cranked up stereo and held my own personal rock concert all the way home.

Such a beautiful land
Such a beautiful sin I say (A sinner say)
Just when you pull me in I push away (I push away)
That little devil on my shoulder says
“I'll make you do those things you did”
That little devil on my shoulder screams
"I think you found your way"


There's no way out for you
But you can follow me, just follow me down
There's no way out for you
So just follow me, just follow me down

Theory of a Deadman

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