The Breakers Chapter 16

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Chapter 16


EPOV

"Again, Bella."

Her eyes open and I can tell it takes her a moment to focus. I don't wait.

"I need you," I whisper. I don't apologize; I'm not the least bit sorry.

I press against her and find her warm and wanting. Her legs wrap easily around my waist and I literally shiver when her soft, small hands grab my arms.

"Edward, oh." She breathes through a smile as I let more of my weight settle on her. Her eyes are focused now, focused totally on me.

I lower my head and drag my tongue down the side of her neck. She tastes fucking delicious and I bite back a groan. All citrusy, salty, and totally Bella. One hand at her waist, the other on a breast. Fingers searching out skin I haven't yet had my fill of. I pinch a nipple, rolling it between my thumb and index finger. Bella throws her head back, her neck stretches, begging for my teeth.

My body is on fucking fire, every inch of skin screaming to feel her against me. I slide a hand down her leg, over her thigh, and then back up again. I want so many things: to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her … to be inside of her again.

"Christ, Bella," I murmur when her heels push me forward. The first time was over so quickly I want this time to be better for her, but as soon as the tip of my cock grazes her clit as I lay on top of her, I'm almost done for right then.

My fingers disappear into her hair and my tongue plunges into her mouth. I groan, the sound vibrating from deep inside of me, when our tongues twirl together. Slow, so fucking slowly we kiss, all tongues and teeth and lips. I learn as I go. She likes to tip her head to the right more than the left. Sucking her tongue into my mouth makes her arch her back and if I use short, fast flicks of my tongue, she lifts her hips and rubs her pussy against me.

I kiss her until my vision blurs and then I slide my mouth down her throat to her breasts.

She cries out a soft, needy, "Edward, God yes," when I suck a nipple into my mouth. I taste and lick and nibble each one, moving back and forth like kid with a lollipop. I can't get enough and each swipe of my tongue, each taste, makes me crave more.

Her nails make a path of searing heat up my arm and then down my back. The room is filled with the sounds that from now on will play on a constant soundtrack in my mind. Soft sighs, quick breaths, low growls, hungry moans, the sound of skin sliding against skin, the quiet slap of hips against hips.

My fingers brush against the swell of her ass, then knead and squeeze. From there they travel over her hip bone and then dive between our bodies.

"Oh, fuck, Bella." I hiss when I find her wet and ready. My fingers circle her clit. I watch her face, mesmerized by each sound and each move she makes. A squeak then a whimper. Eyes squeezed shut then open and glazed when I push two fingers inside of her. Head thrashing against her pillow. Her dark hair a tangled mess against the stark, white pillowcase when I curl my fingers forward and press on the spot that makes her breath catch in her throat. I may not have been with a woman in more than seven years, but learning how to please Bella, what she wants and needs, is a lesson I'm more than willing to spend a lot of time getting right.

"Bella, look at me," I call to her, wanting to watch her but wanting to watch my fingers move in and out of her at the same time.

Her pussy clenches my fingers as I keep up a steady rhythm. Her chest is flushed and the moonlight shimmers from the fine sheen of sweat that covers her body. Her eyes are glossy, her lips red and swollen. Her nipples are hard and her fingers twist the sheets beside her as she writhes on the bed while my fingers continue to move in and out.

She's fucking gorgeous.

She's fucking mine.

"That's it, baby," I murmur as she spreads her legs wider. I've sat up, now on my knees in front of her. I can't help but take my cock in my hand as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.

Her eyes widen when she sees me stroking myself and when she licks her lips, I get even harder in my hand. I ache I'm so hard but I want to feel her come first. My hand is perfectly in sync with my fingers. My hips thrust forward each time I push my fingers inside of her.

"Edward, oh God, I'm so close. Oh please," she cries out.

She lifts up on her elbows and her mouth opens. As if in a trance, she watches my hands, one in her pussy the other on my cock. Her legs begin to shake and her breath sounds like little more than pants.

"I can feel it. Let go. Come, Bella." I hiss as my thumb presses down on the tip of my cock sliding through the liquid that has seeped out.

"Oh God, oh yes." Her hips rise off the bed and her pussy clamps down on my fingers. She shatters, shaking and moaning and damn if it's not the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. Her climax seems to go on and on and my fingers never stop moving even when my name falls from her lips in little more than a whisper.

I finally have to take my fingers out and my eyes roll back in my head when I bring them to my mouth and taste her for the first time. "So fucking good," I mutter.

My hand is still firmly wrapped around my cock. Before I can open my eyes, Bella is straddling my lap and her fingers squeeze between mine. "So hot, oh God." She breathes against my neck, biting at the spot beneath my ear.

I groan loudly when I grip her ass leaving my cock to her very capable, very strong hand. Her fingers slide up and down my length, squeezing with the absolutely perfect amount of pressure.

"God damn." I'm so hard, and she has no fucking idea how incredible her fingers feel on me.

I twist her hair around my hand and none too gently tug until her head tips to the side. I suck on her neck and then can't help when my teeth bite at the sensitive skin. I growl when I move from her neck to her shoulder. I want to mark her but I won't, at least not where anyone can see it. My fingers dig into her ass and I lift her, pressing her pussy tightly against her hand and my cock.

Her hand twists and her fingers squeeze and I almost come right then.

"I need to be inside of you," I whisper much more gently than I feel.

Without stopping her up and down movement she pushes on my chest with her free hand and I fall backward. She's on top of me immediately, her tongue tracing the lines of ink on my chest before I'm even all the way on the bed.

"So sexy, oh, Edward." She breathes, her warm breath causing me to shiver as it fans the skin where her tongue has been.

"Bella, now, baby." I moan, lifting my hips. "Let me be inside of you."

Wordlessly, she raises her lower body and then her hand is gone, only to be replaced by the searing heat of her pussy as she lowers herself on me. Slowly, oh God, so fucking slow it feels like I'm going to pass out from how good it feels, each inch feeling better than the last. I hiss, a string of words I have no idea what they mean falls from my lips as she takes all of me inside of her.

"Fuck, yes," I cry out when she sits up.

I'm so deep inside of her it feels like I may never come out. Her fingers curl against my chest as she raises and lowers her hips. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she's making the sexiest sounds I've ever heard. A breath mixed with a growl and a whimper and it makes me even harder inside of her. My fingers hold her hips, thumbs circling her hips bones. My hips thrust against her each time she moves down on me. Our bodies in perfect sync. Up and down, give and take, over and over and over again.

She sits up, erotic and beautiful. When she leans back, stretching her body in the most delicious way, the ends of her hair brush against my thighs and it feels like the softest silk. I lift a hand and find her clit with my fingers.

Her muscles clench, thighs and pussy, and she throws her head forward. Our eyes meet, hers are dark, hungry and I'm sure mine look the same. "So good, Edward." She moans, the sound coming from deep inside of her.

My fingers don't still as she continues to move over me. We're both lost, lost in how good everything feels.

"Come here and kiss me," I say between pants. She lowers her head to mine and our mouths meet once more.

As frenzied as we were just a moment ago, the moment her mouth covers mine, our bodies slow, relishing every dip of a tongue, every stroke of my cock inside of her, every breath we share.

Her arms wrap around my head as she presses her entire upper body against mine. "I'm going to come," she whispers.

"Me, too," I answer back. My legs burn, my stomach tightens, and my chest expands.

"So good, fuck you feel so good on me," I tell her, my hands covering, holding her ass.

She stops breathing and then I feel it. Wet, liquid heat pulsing all around me as she comes. "Edward, oh, God … yes … yes."

Hearing my name fall from her lips as she comes sends me over the edge and I grunt her name over and over as I release inside of her, not as hard as the first time but the feeling is even more intense.

She collapses on my chest and I run my fingers up and down her back. Wanting to feel her beneath me, I hold her close to me and then roll over.

"That was-" I stop and shake my head as I struggle to find adequate words.

"Even better than the first time," she finishes, summing things up perfectly.

I run my fingers silently through her hair and her fingers make trails up and down my arms, but other than that, neither of us make any effort to move. It's stopped raining. The moonlight is shining through the window sending streaks of silvery white across the floor. My eyes sweep around her room and fall on the clock beside the bed.

"Holy shit," I murmur and it sounds much too loud for the intimate moment.

She giggles at my outburst and her hands immediately reach for my face and turn it toward her. The action is so … fluid, so natural, it takes my breath away for a second.

"What's wrong?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

I grin. Silly girl, how can she possibly think I am anything but spectacular after what we've just shared?

"Do you know what time it is?" I ask, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose.

"I'm guessing late from that reaction." Her voice is so calm that I can't help but to relax against her. I slip out of her, an action neither of us like, and try to roll off her but her legs grip me tighter and she shakes her head. "Please don't move yet," she whispers.

I nod and our eyes lock. I'm dying to know what she's thinking but just laying with her, feeling her entire body flush with mine, feels too good to let anything take away from it. I'm still watching her and my stomach clenches when I feel her lower her hand from my cheek down over the side of my neck. Her fingertips brush back and forth over my scar and I wait, my eyes burning into hers because I know what's coming next.

"Will you tell me?" Her voice is cautious but determined.

Brushing my lips across hers, I nod before rolling off her and off the bed. When I stand up and put my boxers on, she pouts. "There is no way in hell I can have this conversation laying in bed with you like that, Bella," I tell her as she sits up. She holds the sheet loosely to her chest and it barely covers anything. I can still see the edges of each of her perfect tits peek out from beneath the sheet, and I swallow.

Jesus, I want her again.

I bend down to pick up the t-shirt I had on earlier to give to her then drop it when I think about whose it is. For some reason, her wearing Xavier's shirt while I try to talk to her just seems wrong. I look around her room, wondering which drawer she keeps her t-shirts in. I walk forward about two steps, then stop, forgetting for a moment what I was going to do.

Images and memories I've struggled and fought to keep buried storm forth like an army advancing on an enemy. They're coming at me from all sides, sounds I've tried to forget, words cried out during the night that still give me chills if I think about them, smells that literally make me wretch and gag to remember, a myriad of things assault every sense at once and I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly it hurts.

The sheets rustle behind me and I hear her footsteps as they pad toward her dresser. I hear a drawer open and then close quickly and I jump when I feel her hand in mine. She says nothing, just waits for me to be ready.

A few moments pass and then I open my eyes and look down at her. The tip of her nose is red, but there aren't any tears in her eyes which is more of a relief than I can articulate. I don't want her pity.

"I should have done this the other night. I'm sorry I didn't."

The words out of her mouth render me stupid because there is no way she just said what I think she did. "Excuse me?" I say after I open and close my mouth at least five times.

She blows out a puff of air and twists her mouth. I wait. I'm so confused because of all the words in the English language, those however many she just said in that sentence would be the last ones I ever would have imagined her saying.

"Let's sit," she offers and pulls me to the bed.

I shake my head to clear it because the last five minutes didn't go anything like I expected them to. Faster than I can almost keep up with, she grabs her phone, checks a message, and with quick, capable fingers sends one back. The whole thing takes no more than a minute. She gets on the left side of the bed and my stomach drops. I sleep on the right. The fact that she sleeps on the left seems like a huge deal to me, though maybe it's not. She fluffs a few pillows behind her back then settles against them while pulling another pillow on her lap. She's nervous. I can tell because her fingers are plucking and pulling at the pillowcase, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, then bunching the pillow up only to do it again. A deep breath, bottom lip between her teeth, a push of hair behind her ear - I watch each movement with ravenous eyes, committing them to memory. I love learning new things about her, though I've seen her do each of these things when she's been nervous before. Not in this same order however, which makes it new. The fact that she's so adorable at the same time makes it much easier to find a comfortable position on the bed facing her.

She slides her hand across the bed and then turns it over, wiggling her fingers until I lay my hand in hers. I can't hide the smile that spreads across my face when I see her relax even further into her pillows and her shoulders lower a bit. I really fucking love having that kind of effect on her.

"I meant what I said just then. I am sorry about how I acted the other night," she says softly.

"You're going to have to explain that comment a little bit more for me because I still don't really understand what you're apologizing for." I hope my voice doesn't sound as frustrated as I'm beginning to feel. I don't want to make this discussion any more difficult than it needs to be, especially not right from the get-go.

She huffs again and makes a, what I am positive she didn't intend to be sexy but is, groan in the back of her throat. "You were so wonderful with me tonight." I snicker and puff out my chest which makes her squeeze and pull my hand. "Not that, though yes that was," she tries to say and bites her lip, though this time for a totally different reason. The fact that I can tell the difference makes me want to bite my lip … or actually hers. Her eyes flit across my face and when they capture mine, I feel as if I'm melting. They are so warm and full of so much that I begin to move toward her like a moth to a flame.

"No, no, I need to tell you this and we have to talk. There's so much to say ..." She trails off, the weight of how true that statement is making it almost impossible to quantify just how much there is.

"Okay," I say as I exhale a deep breath.

"What you told me the other night," she begins and wets her bottom lip with her tongue, "I still have such a hard time imagining what you went through. I can't wrap my head around it all, I mean you're … you and I can't picture you in that place."

I don't know how to answer that or if there's even anything she needs me to say.

"I know it was hard for you to tell me and I feel bad I let you leave the way you did, that I asked you to go without making sure you were okay. I was so selfish," she whispers as she hangs her head.

My stomach twists and I suck in a deep breath. "Bella, no," I tell her immediately, but she shakes her head and looks up. Her eyes are wide, sad.

She nods her head at me. "Yes, Edward. Hearing what happened to you was hard and shocking. I had a million things going through my mind at one time, but hearing about Evan wasn't any easier for you and yet you still tried to comfort me. All I did was let you talk without giving you anything."

I absorb what she says for a moment. "Bella, honestly, it's okay," I tell her sincerely. I have no idea why she's so focused on apologizing but I can see it's something she's really thought about. "You needed time to think. I understood that. It was … hard leaving you not knowing what you were thinking or what was going to happen between us, but I did understand."

She stares at our hands and her index finger moves back and forth across my wrist. "Are you … I mean, are you okay now? About everything?" she asks hesitantly.

"Do you mean about us or about what happened to me? 'Everything' is kind of vague," I tease a bit.

I know we need to have this talk but knowing it doesn't make it any easier to begin. Telling her about being in prison was hard, but even I have to admit that blurting it out without meaning to made it a bit easier.

"Both … more," she tells me as she shrugs her shoulders. "It just seems like there's so much I want to know."

I wrap my fingers around her hand, trapping her finger along my wrist. "Then ask me. I told you I don't want to keep anything from you, that I will tell you anything you want to know."

"What … " she begins in a voice barley louder than a breath, "what was it like in … in there?"

"Isolating," I answer immediately, the word bitter in my mouth.

She gasps and lays her free hand across her chest, covering her heart. I watch as she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This isn't likely to be a pleasant conversation for either of us, but I find myself practically bursting with the need to tell her everything. I know I won't, at least not yet, but I know how significant it is that I want to.

Her mouth opens and closes, a squeak, a half-word that I don't have the first clue what it is, escapes. She's uncomfortable and unsure of what to ask and her unease isn't what I want.

"It was prison, Bella. It's supposed to be that way. Day after day after monotonous day of the same thing. It was never quiet. There wasn't ever a day I felt relaxed. There wasn't ever a day that I didn't feel as though I was going to crawl out of my skin. It was a seven year, two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days long nightmare," I end on an uneven breath.

I can tell my words have shaken her, but I can't hide how horrific it was. If she truly wants me, she's going to have to accept the grim reality that I am … an ex-convict.

Her eyes drop. I can't tell if they're closed or if she's staring at the pillow that still lies across her lap like a protective shield. "How did you manage? I mean ..." She gulps audibly. I watch her throat move and wait for her to lift her head again. "Weren't you scared? You were so young when that … when you were … arrested."

"I was young." I scoff and bitter, angry feelings fight their way to the surface but I hold them back. We need to talk about this. I won't be able to if I also have to wrestle with the demons I still carry with me. "And yes, I was scared. And angry and lost and so damned stupid." My voice rises and I pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to stay in control.

I feel Bella's hand, warm and reassuring beneath mine and it grounds me, reminds me that I'm here now … with her.

"Bella, it was, I don't even know how to describe it," I begin and stare out the window. I know I'm here, in bed with her, but it's like I'm watching a movie play out in the glass as images flicker in the reflection. "It almost seemed like it was happening to someone else, like I was watching someone else have handcuffs tightened so tightly around his wrists that they caused bruises that didn't go away for a week. That it was someone else that heard the words "you've been sentenced to fifteen years for armed robbery." That it was someone else who heard the slam of the heavy, steel door when it closed behind me that first night in Old Colony. Like it was someone else who didn't sleep for days, but instead kept a pillow pressed tightly to his ears to block out sounds that were straight out of a horror movie. That it was someone else that spent day after day after miserable day just trying to make it through, even though at first, he wasn't sure he wanted to."

I hear her sniff and when I look at her, there are tears in the corners of her eyes. I hate upsetting her, but she asked and I told her I would tell her everything. However, there is no way in hell I will ever tell her how truly horrific those first days and weeks were. Living with those particular memories is mine alone to live with.

She breathes slowly in and out and I don't say anything as she digests what I've said and she gathers the courage to ask me her next question. When she glances at the scar along my neck I anticipate what she says next. "How did that happen?" she whispers, wincing as she lets her eyes stare at my neck. "Were you … someone tried to hurt you, on purpose?"

Her question is so innocent and laced with hurt for me that I have to tear my gaze away from her for a moment. I tip my head up and stare at the ceiling, mesmerized for the briefest a seconds by the way the moonlight stretches across it. I follow the path of one of the slivers of light toward the window and almost instantly I'm brought back to standing in my room at Wayne's house, looking out a window, my window, for the first time in years. I shiver at the memory, something seemingly so innocuous but so profound in its simplicity.

My head falls forward and I nod, not looking at her face. Instead I watch our hands, memorizing the way her pulse feels beneath the tip of my index finger when I press down on it. Its steady, if slightly accelerated, beat is a silent reminder that I'm no longer alone.

"Once I'd … resigned myself that I was in there to stay, that it wasn't a dream, I tried to keep to myself." I push away all the vivid memories and just focus on the fact that I'm in Bella's house and not in that hell hole. "I didn't talk unless I had to. I didn't make eye contact. I did exactly what I was told, when I was told, and tried to be invisible. Once a few months had passed, I sort of fell into the monotonous routine of every day. I still didn't talk much, no more than I absolutely had to, so when we'd have our free time," I scoff at the word free, as if anything was ever free inside that cage, "I would go to the library and read.

"I kept that up for awhile and once I kind of established I wasn't going to cause any trouble, my caseworker arranged for me to enroll in some online college classes. I'd always been fascinated with the law." And again I scoff at the irony. Jesus, I was a fucking idiot back then. "And the books I'd been reading up until then only fed that. I started taking criminal justice classes when I could and reading extra books and anything I could lay my hands on that had to do with the law. I don't know what it was," I trail off, still not knowing where that passion came from. Carlisle and I have discussed it at great length and I'm no closer to understanding it than I was seven years ago. I just know it's still there, even if now it's buried beneath rubber gloves and the smell of salt water.

She moves and the pillow falls from her lap, landing on the floor with a soft whoosh. In typical fashion, and I swear one of the things that never fails to stir feelings deep inside of me, she pulls her knees up and rests her chin on them. Her eyes find mine and they pin me in place. They're so warm I feel as if I might melt right where I sit, like my bones have liquefied inside my body.

"The more classes I was able to take, the more I craved to learn as much as I could. I began giving a few guys advice here and there, things they could do for their cases or for family on the outside. Nothing major," I'm quick to point out. "I never helped anyone get off or anything like that," I tell her anxiously.

"Of course not, Edward," she says softly, calmly.

I push my free hand through my hair and then give her a grateful smile. "Well, because I helped some of the guys, I was pretty much left alone. I mean no one really messed with me," I tell her and hope she can interpret my meaning. Her eyes pinch and she bites her bottom lip and I watch as she sighs and rolls her shoulders. "Every now and then some new guy would come along and try to start shit with me, either to prove a point or because I wouldn't help him, or just because." She wraps her free arm tighter around her legs and I can tell it's taking all she has to try to be strong for me.

Unable to stand watching her struggle to understand things that are really outside her realm of reference, I scoot closer and wrap my arm around her knee, still facing her. "The asshole that did this," I hiss as I tip my head to indicate the scar, "had been messing with me for weeks before he jumped me. I wouldn't help him with some bullshit complaint he had and it pissed him off. He got to me while I was doing my job in the laundry. I felt him behind me as he was leaning over my shoulder and I turned just enough that he stabbed me in the neck. It was a sharpened toothbrush," I tell her, the memory still as crystal clear as if it happened just yesterday. "I was in the infirmary for a couple of weeks. The bastard injured my vocal cords when he stabbed me, thus the not so smooth voice."

"Hey now, I happen to love that not so smooth voice I'll have you know." She slides her hand out from beneath mine and I hold my breath as she lifts her arm and lays her hand along the side of my neck. Her fingers trace over my scar as she watches my face. She leans forward and places one soft, sweet, soul-touching kiss to the damaged skin. During the kisses and touches we've shared thus far I'm sure she's touched it inadvertently, but this, this was her showing me that she wants me faults and flaws and all.

It's the single most poignant moment of my life. When she pulls back I grab her face, holding it as I stare into her eyes. "Bella." It's all I can say.

My mouth covers hers and I pour all the words I can't say out loud into it. Love, gratitude, relief, need … all of it, until we have to pull apart to breathe.

Suddenly it's all too much and I lean my forehead on her knees. Her fingers slip into my hair and she massages my scalp. I'm exhausted. The last week has been so fucking long and it's finally catching up with me. My muscles are heavy and the thought of leaving this bed, of leaving Bella to go back to the boarding house, sucks more than I have words for.

I turn and find her watching, waiting for me.

"Are you okay?" she gently asks.

Her voice is so soothing. I want to curl up beside her and ask her to read me a story, or better yet, sing me to sleep. It totally makes me sound like a damn pussy, but I don't care.

I nod and a huge yawn escapes. "Damn, I'm so tired," I whisper, turning my head to kiss a crescent-shaped scar on her knee.

"Come on then, let's go to bed," she says as if it's something that has happened a hundred times before.

I gape at her; I can't help it. "What? No, Bella, that's not what I was implying," I tell her shaking my head. "I have to get up early and I don't want you to think, I mean it's not that I don't want to stay … fuck," I mutter when my mouth can't keep up with my brain.

"Edward?" Bella asks and waits until I look at her. "Shut up and get into bed." When I still don't move, she leans forward and presses her nose right against mine. "Stay with me, please? I want to wake up with you beside me," she whispers. Her breath washes over me she's so close and I shudder from the intensity.

I open my mouth but she reaches between us and places a finger on my lips. "Mom told me to take tomorrow off and Dad sent a message that if you show up for work, you're fired. So … looks like you're stuck with me tomorrow." She giggles.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her down beside me in one quick motion. "I really didn't want to leave," I tell her once we're facing each other on the pillows.

"Today was ..." She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

Oh, sweet girl, I know the feeling, I think.

"It was."

Neither one of us say a word for a few minutes as we soak in the intimacy that surrounds us. After a few more minutes pass, she rolls over and gets out of bed. Holding her hand out to me, she pulls me behind her to the bathroom where we get ready for bed. She gives me a new toothbrush and we watch each other in the mirror, neither able to take our eyes off of each other.

When we're done, she takes my hand and leads me back to her bed. Silently we get in, her on the left, me on the right, as simple and easy as putting on a t-shirt. I pull her against me, and wrap my arms around her.

"Thank you for wanting me to stay," I whisper against her shoulder.

"Thank you for saying yes," she answers right back, relaxing in my arms.

I nuzzle her neck and brush my lips back and forth along her neck and the spot behind her ear. "I'm so fucking happy," I tell her between nips and licks.

She doesn't say anything for the longest time and I think she's fallen asleep until I hear her voice, sweet and soft float through the dark. "You deserve to be happy."

Her breathing evens out quickly after that and I lean up on my elbow and watch her sleep for a few minutes until my eyes get so heavy I can't keep them open any longer. I pull her as close to me as I can get her, not wanting to let her go. The last thought I have before falling asleep is, I hope I never have to.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Bella, come on. Let's go!"

I spin her keys around my finger, anxious to leave.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was in a hurry," she teases, walking into the living room as she winds her hair in a ponytail. I almost hate for her to put it up. My fingers have spent an awful lot of time over the past twenty-four hours buried inside of it, but one glance at the creamy white skin of her neck has me not minding so much after all.

I swallow nervously and run a hand through my hair, suddenly afraid of what is about to happen.

"Hey," she says softly. Her hands reach for me, resting comfortingly around my forearms. She squeezes and then steps even closer, chest to chest, and wraps her arms tightly around my waist.

I lean down and press my nose into the top of her hair, letting her citrus and fresh from the shower scent work its magic until I feel like I can breathe again.

"I miss her," I whisper. There's a longing in my chest that's been building for days. It's been over a week since I've seen Peyton and it literally feels like a part of my heart has been missing.

Bella's arms tighten and she tips her head up to look at me. "She's missed you, too. So much. I hate that it's been so long."

She lowers her head again and presses her nose to my chest. I hold her there and take a few deep breaths. As far as Bella and I have come already, as much as we've talked about and shared, this last hurdle seems almost more daunting than anything.

"What if she hates me? What if she's scared of me now?" I ask. My hands still, my heart races, and my body shakes. "Telling you about Boston was so fucking hard. How can I tell her? She'll never understand ..." My voice cracks and I have to close my eyes again to stop the images of Peyton running away from me, screaming in terror as she tells me she never wants to see me again, from flooding my mind.

"Edward, she won't." Bella tells me fiercely, her eyes burning with conviction. "She loves you. She'll understand, and if she doesn't, we'll help her to. She'll be fine, trust me."

I take a deep breath and let her words soothe me before nodding my head. "Let's go get our girl."

The words hang there in the air, and she looks at me. I have no idea what she's thinking, but I sure as hell wish I did. I want to ask, but when I open my mouth, I clamp it close and turn toward the front door. She steps beside me and my hand immediately finds hers. Our fingers weave together, and it grounds me, focuses me. We walk to her truck silently. I open her door first and help her up inside, really noticing for the first time that she looks hot as hell in a short, white skirt, a tight, black t-shirt, and a pair of black flip-flops. Her legs look unbelievably long as she pulls them in. I bite back a groan before slowly walking to the driver's side.

My mind is racing.

She's facing out the passenger side window and doesn't even turn to look in my direction when I slide into the seat and turn the truck on. It rumbles to life, shaking and loud. I turn it off though, as quickly as I can. The silence that stretches out between us is heavy with things that need to be said.

"I never should have said that," I start quietly, slowly.

As much as I wish the words I just spoke were true, the fact is they aren't. Peyton isn't mine. I love her, I would do anything for her, but she doesn't belong to me.

"I don't know what I'm doing here, Bella." My admission is hesitant but nothing but the truth. "I feel like things are spinning wildly out of control but the funny thing is I don't want it to stop. So much has changed now." I trail off and look out my own window.

I feel her hand, warm and comfortingly strong cover mine and she squeezes it until I turn my head to face her. Her features are so soft and so full of what my heart recognizes as love even though that word hasn't been said aloud by either of us. It's there, living, breathing, and so strong, if I took a deep breath, it will fill every part of me, but it's too soon for that. Knowing it's there is enough. It was on the tip of my tongue more than a few times last night and again this morning … I wanted to tell her when I held her in my arms after she told me about Evan. I wanted to tell her when I saw her naked for the first time. I barely stopped myself from screaming it out loud when I felt her wrapped around me, hot and pulsing. I wanted to whisper it in her ear when I held her as she slept, but was afraid she'd somehow hear through the haze of sleep. I wanted to breathe it into her mouth when we made love this morning, limbs tangled, bodies arching and straining. I wanted to fall at her feet and tell her when she touched my scar and bravely asked about my time in prison. It threatened to bubble out when we sat at breakfast, eating pancakes off each other's plates in between kisses and looks that set my body on fire.

I love her; I'm just scared as hell about what that means for us.

With her free hand, she pushes her hair behind her ear and the flash of silver at the top of her ear that peeks out makes me swallow painfully. I stare at the little silver ball, remembering how it felt to flick at it and roll it over my tongue. Pink floods her cheeks as she watches me stare at her and I cough, a bit embarrassed at myself for losing focus so quickly.

Now that I've had her, heard her, felt her … I only want more.

"Do you … " she squeaks then swallows. "Are they good changes?"

Hearing the question in her voice, the naked vulnerability eking out, has me leaning over the center console and holding her face between my hands.

"Bella," I say thickly, worried about saying too much. I have so many feelings surging through me. I know I need to talk to Carlisle, soon, because I'm having trouble getting a handle on them all. Her eyes search mine, begging me for reassurance. My thumbs brush across her cheeks and I hold her still so I can kiss her forehead and then the end of her nose before I stare deeply into her eyes.

"They're the best changes," I tell her sincerely. "But I'm being honest when I say I have no idea what I'm doing with you … with Peyton. I lived such a long time convincing myself I'd never have this, never have a chance to start over and find someone that makes me as happy as you do. I never would've imagined that an almost four foot tall, gray-eyed tiny little wisp of a thing could wrap me so tightly around her finger that it literally hurts not to see her." There's a flash of something in her eyes that's gone as quickly as it appears and I instantly hear Carlisle's words from last week in the back of my mind.

She's not sure how I'd feel about her if there was no Peyton. The thought wrecks me and I suck in a sharp breath. Fix this, I hiss to myself.

"But then there's this woman," I begin slowly, dropping my voice as I stare at her lips. I run the pad of my thumb across her bottom one, releasing it from her top teeth, and feel the tiny indentations in her soft skin. "This gorgeous, feisty, stubborn, amazing woman that waited in the rain for me, that knows about the things that haunt me at night when I try to sleep, that trusts me enough with not only her body but her heart, too. She's the one I want; she's what I need to be happy. You're what I need, Bella. You," I whisper roughly, barely holding back the three words that are aching to come out.

I'm new at all this relationship business, but somehow I know that Bella isn't ready to hear them.

She lurches forward and throws her arms around me, pressing her nose tightly against the side of my neck.

I wrap my arms around her and run my fingers through the hair that falls down her back. "You have to help me, baby," I tell her softly, the words mixing with the heavy breaths coming from each of us. "If things move too fast or I say something that's wrong, or if you feel pressured, please promise me you'll tell me. I've never done this before. I don't want to hurt you … or lose you now that I've just gotten you." I trip over the last few words, unsure if I've said too much.

"O-Okay," she murmurs and I can feel her take a deep breath against my skin.

I feel an easing of tension I wasn't truly aware of lessen at her promise. The past week, especially, the last day, has been one giant roller coaster and it's not over yet. I almost want to just say 'fuck it' and take Peyton to Ellsworth for pizza and ice cream, but I know I can't.

I swear to God I've talked more since I've arrived in Corea, hell in just the last week alone, than I did in the seven years I was in prison. I kiss Bella on the top of the head and then disentangle my arms from around her. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly as I sit back in my seat.

She nods. "I'm scared, too," she admits, staring at me, "but I know I want to be with you. We don't have to figure everything out today." Her eyes seem to darken, and it feels like she can see all the way inside of me. "You have to make the same promise to me, Edward. Please don't feel like you have to be the one with all the answers; we need to find them together. I've never had that … this." She waves between us, not being able to articulate what we are any better than I can.

Realizing that makes me smile.

"What, you don't want to call me your boyfriend?" I tease, waggling my eyebrows at her. Her sweet giggle fills the confines of the car and it settles me like nothing else could.

Her eyes find mine and she narrows them. Her nostrils flare and she licks her bottom lip. I can hear her breathing come in short, shallow puffs and she rubs her thighs together in the most deliciously, maddening way. "As long as I can call you mine, I don't care what other label you have."

I groan, and shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Bella." Her name comes out almost like a cross between a sob and a prayer. I'm back across the console in an instant, mouth hungry and desperate for hers. "Kiss me," I demand. She complies readily and the second our tongues meet, I lose all sense of everything but her.

"Fuck," I breathe into her mouth. "I am yours, Bella. Tell me you're mine." I need to hear her say it. I didn't realize how badly I needed it until that word floated between us.

"I'm yours," she whispers, nipping at along my jaw. "We're yours."

"Oh … God. I want that. You don't have any idea how badly I want that." My fingers twitch from wanting to pull her to me even more, needing to get her closer. "You and Peyton are all that matter to me. I don't need anything else if I have the two of you."

"You have us, Edward. She'll still love you as much after you tell her as she does now."

Her words pull a sob from my chest and I cling to her for a moment as I take a few gulps of air to try to settle down enough to drive us to The Breakers. Cherry is a bit on the temperamental side after all, so I need to be able to concentrate. I kiss her quickly, but not chastely, on the lips and then sit back in my seat once more. I'm wrung out already and we haven't even left the driveway yet. I run a hand through my hair and flex my fingers around the steering wheel before I start the truck.

I roll my window down and take a huge breath, filling my lungs with the salty, moist air that represents home to me now. I can feel Bella's eyes on me and I know she's worried that maybe she's said too much so I reach for her hand as soon as I back up and we're on our way to the restaurant.

My thumb rubs back and forth across her palm and neither of us speak. I'm digesting and trying not to feel totally overwhelmed by everything that's happened. I feel like I'm on stimulus overload. There have been too many words, too many feelings bombarding me seemingly all at once and as I drive, it weighs on me heavier and heavier. I feel a slight twinge in my chest as it tightens and there's just a faint sense of panic rising inside of me. I squeeze Bella's hand, much harder than I mean to and she gasps.

"Edward?"

"Talk to me, please. Tell me something, anything."

I don't want to have a panic attack so I breathe in and out and listen to Bella tell me some silly story about Xavier and Seth and something about a spatula and a kitchen counter. I'm only half listening; the sound of her voice is really all I need to keep in control. Bits and pieces of her story flit around in my mind and I'm pretty sure I'm happy I don't know exactly what she's talking about.

By the time she's done talking, I'm pulling into the parking lot at the restaurant. Thank God. However, once I turn the truck off and stare at the front door, I feel the panic rising again. Jesus, I feel like a fucking basket case, and a pussy to boot. Deep down I know it's my own imagination running wild but I can't help it. Bella and Peyton mean so much to me that the thought of being without either one of them terrifies me.

"It will be fine," Bella tells me when she lays her hand on the side of my face.

"Hope so," is all I can manage to say over the tightness in my throat.

We get out and walk hand in hand into the restaurant. I'm a bundle of nerves and not just because of Peyton. Rose and Alice are in there along with Xavier and Renée and I feel like I'm the star attraction at the circus when we walk in and all of them, besides Xavier who's in the kitchen, turn and look our way.

"Welcome to small town life," Bella grumbles adorably beside me and I laugh before leaning down to kiss the side of her head.

"It's a bit like a fishbowl, isn't it?" I whisper grinning a little when Renée catches my eye.

As soon as I stand, my eyes sweep across the restaurant searching for Peyton. She's sitting at a table in the corner rolling silverware in napkins, her little feet swinging back and forth under the chair as she sings quietly to herself. My heart swells just from looking at her. I really could just watch her all day, even though that sounds creepy as hell, but it's the truth. Just being near her somehow pushes all the bullshit and all the unknowns to the back of my mind.

My feet are stuck to the floor. I want to go to her so badly but I know if telling her doesn't go well, she's going to break my heart.

"Go," Bella says quietly.

I nod, squeeze her hand one time for the last bit of strength I can get, and slowly make my way toward Peyton. My heart flies and bangs against my chest, so hard it's tough to breathe. My eyes never move from her, watching her head bob from left to right and I smile as she scrunches her little nose when she rolls a napkin and it's crooked. Such a tiny perfectionist she is, which makes me chuckle softly because the wild child is such a contradiction. Sweet and snarky, independent and needing constant reassurance, funny and more serious than any child I could ever imagine.

She's perfect … she's Peyton.

"Need some help?" I ask softly when I get closer to the table.

She gasps and her eyes go wide and she freezes for a second. A huge dimple-making smile breaks out on her face and she flies off the chair so fast and hard it topples to the ground.

"Edward!" she shrieks and throws herself at me so hard she knocks me into the table behind me. I hear the glass salt and pepper shakers clink as they roll against each other. I know Bella and the others are laughing at us, but as soon as I pick her up and her little arms go around my neck, there isn't anything else I pay attention to but her.

I squeeze her as hard as I dare, though it isn't hard enough. My arms shake and my legs feel like spaghetti I've missed her so much.

"Where have you been?" she asks when she picks her head up and grabs my face, squishing my cheeks together until I'm sure I look like a fish.

"I'm sorry, Sprite," I tell her even though it's not an answer to her question.

She cocks her head to the side and stares at me, her pewter eyes seeing way more than a seven-year-old should be capable of. "Why aren't you working with Pop?"

I swallow and the nerves come racing back. "I didn't have to work today."

Her eyes narrow and I can tell her little mind is going fast and furious because she knows there's not a good reason I'm not at work, at least as far as she knows. The fact I'd spent hours ravishing her mother isn't anything she needs to come close to thinking about.

"Why?" she asks. Her voice drops and her tongue darts out then slips back in her mouth. She fidgets in my arms and when she stares at me again, I know she can tell there's more to what I'm telling her.

"Want to take a walk with me?" I ask her softly.

She nods slowly and I let her down, blowing out a big burst of air when she moves to the table and starts putting everything in a pile.

"I've got it, baby. You go with Edward for a bit," Bella says when she walks up.

Peyton wordlessly walks to her and buries her nose at her stomach. Bella and I exchange a meaningful glance over Peyton's head and when Bella smiles at me and mouths, "It'll be fine," again, I almost believe her.

I know Peyton loves me; I can feel it in everything she does and I know she can tell I feel the same way about her. I might not have any experience at all when it comes to the behavior of kids, but I know this little girl as intuitively as if I'd spent every day of her life with her. I've never, ever, believed in destiny or fate or any of that mystical, spiritual mumbo-jumbo, but there is not one question that someone, somewhere thought it was best if we crossed paths.

It goes without saying how fucking glad I am it happened.

"Let's hit it, sweet P. There's a rock out there calling our name," I tell her as I tug on the bottom of her ponytail.

She flashes me a smile and then runs toward the kitchen, yelling something about snacks and Grandma.

This time it's Bella that curls her index finger around mine and she pulls me toward her. We timed our arrival to make sure we missed both the breakfast and the lunch crowd and the restaurant is completely empty for the first time I've ever seen. She giggles when my head whips back and forth.

"You're always working now; it gets like this every day," she tells me as she shakes her head a bit.

She's totally relaxed, eyes shining bright and my jeans get a tad uncomfortable when a beam of sunlight shines on her hair making it explode with deep reds. I fight the urge to sigh like a lovesick fool even though that pretty much sums up how I'm feeling. I also have to fight the urge to throw her down on the table in the middle of the empty restaurant and see how good her naked body looks in the sunlight.

I growl at the thought.

She rolls her eyes at me.

My eyes bounce around, looking at everything, seeing nothing. "Hey," Bella says sharply, but not because she's angry. "Edward, stop," she says in what can only be described as a no-nonsense mom voice. "You need to give her more credit. She might not understand everything, but she can and will understand that you did the right thing when it mattered the most."

I hang my head. "I know you're right, but it doesn't make it any easier," I whine.

She lifts her hands and presses them against my chest. Her fingers brush back and forth and instantly I relax even though the bottom half of my body is up and ready. I have a feeling that will be pretty much a perpetual state from now on. I feel her knee push against mine indicating she wants me to spread my legs so she can get closer.

Yes and please.

"Now, go talk to her and then come back. We still have the rest of the day to spend together. I don't plan on wasting a moment of it," she whispers and plants a big open-mouthed kiss right on my jaw, complete with a swipe of her warm, wet tongue.

"Fucking hell, Bella," I rasp.

She giggles. She's not the only one. I look up and find Rose and Alice ogling the both of us without shame. For a second I cringe, but when Alice winks at me, I relax.

"Okay, you two," Rose says loud enough for us to hear, but not Peyton who is still in the kitchen. "Unless you want to put on a show for P you better cool it," she teases. Our eyes meet and the acceptance I find there shocks me so much my mouth hangs open.

The moment passes because Peyton barrels through the door loaded down with goodies. "Edward, look!" she shrieks as she bounces up and down in front of me holding out a plastic bag full of fresh peanut butter cookies.

"Well, then let's get out of here; we have lots to talk about," I tell her and give Renée a very appreciative smile.

We make our way down to the beach in only a few minutes. During the time it takes us to get there, I decide to just let go of all my worries and just enjoy spending time with my best friend again. She's going on in her usual Peyton way, telling me about everything that flits through her mind. What Lucy wants for her birthday, something about something that has to do with Will and Andrew and something called a Kinnect, then onto what Charlie told her about how to throw a fast ball until she takes a breath and says, "Is Mom your girlfriend now?"

Fuck. Me.

I stop dead in my tracks and stare at her, bug-eyed and I'm sure my jaw is on the sand. She rolls her eyes at me and I swear she looks so much like Bella when she does that it's almost freaky.

"I … we were … Peyton," I stutter, completely out of my element and unable to think of anything to say.

Bella and I tentatively discussed how to tell Peyton about us, but I wanted to wait until after I'd told her about Boston. Seems like I worried for nothing. I have no idea if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I do know I wish the sand would open up and swallow me whole … or that Bella was here.

I have no idea what to tell her but when Peyton's slate blue eyes bore into mine, I sigh, and nod my head. I won't lie to her, especially not about this. "Yes, sweetheart, she is. Is … are you okay with that?" My heart slams against my chest and I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

I don't have to wait long.

"Oh my gosh! Edward! Yes, yes!" she cries out as she jumps up and down in front of me clapping her hands.

I laugh, I can't help it and I'm even more resolved to tell Peyton, make sure she understands, and then move on with the two of them by my side.

"Come on, wild thing, I need to talk to you about something else," I tell her quietly and pull her toward a grouping of rocks. I pick her up and set her down and then find a spot beside her.

Once we're both comfortable, I suddenly lose the ability to form words, let alone whole sentences. Everything I think of to say to her sounds ridiculous or lame or not enough or just plain wrong.

I stare out at the water, remembering everything Bella told me last night about Evan. I purposely keep my mind off the other things that happened last night, though. I definitely don't need that distraction.

I'm not sure how seven-year-olds are supposed to act, but somehow I know most of them don't sit quietly and wait for someone to start talking like Peyton is. She's running her hand back and forth over the rock, scraping off algae with her fingernail.

Taking a deep breath, I jump right in. "Peyton." I say her name slowly, clearing my throat a few times as I choke on the words I have to tell her. "Have you ever wanted to tell one of your friends like Lucy or Will something but were afraid they might not like you afterward?"

Her eyes widen and her little mouth makes a perfect "o" as she stares at me. I can tell she's really thinking about what I asked though because her eyebrows dip like they always do when she's concentrating. She nods her head slowly, and stares at me anxiously waiting to hear what I say next.

I reach out and run the backs of my fingers down her cheek. She smiles at me, so open, so trusting that it twists my heart. I tell myself to trust what Bella has said, to trust Peyton herself to be able to understand and then accept me.

"Sweetheart, there are a few things I need to tell you about me, about where I was and what I did before I moved here. We're best friends; I don't want us to have any secrets," I begin.

"Best friends shouldn't have secrets," she tells me and her mouth puckers a bit in agitation at me.

I nod. "I know, that's why I'm talking to you now." I wait for a moment then start again. "I was a pretty bad kid when I was younger. I got into fights, stayed out late, didn't listen to my grandfather. I just got into a lot of trouble." I watch her and she's stopped moving and is focused completely on me. "When I got a little older, I kept doing those bad things."

"Why?" she interrupts, though I shouldn't be surprised by her question.

I shrug my shoulders, knowing how unsatisfying a response that really must seem like. "I don't know, P. I was sad that my grandmother died and mad at my grandfather because he wasn't able to take care of me like he used to. I didn't have anyone really I could talk to and it made me feel all jumbled up inside. Have you ever felt that way? Like you want to yell and cry at the same time?" I ask her, wondering how in the hell she's ever going to understand what I'm talking about.

It doesn't really surprise me however when she slowly nods her head at me, her eyes deep and knowing. "Yes," she says so quietly it's almost hard to hear over the sound of the waves brushing against the sand and rocks of the beach.

"I was sad and mad for a long time and then I made a friend – someone who I thought was a really good friend," I say slowly, waiting for the question I know is coming.

Her head snaps up. "Like me?"

I chuckle at that, as if there could be anyone else like her. "Of course not, Sprite. I've never had a friend like you," I tell her with a smile. She huffs and nods her head, pleased with my answer. "Anyway," I continue. "He was the only person I really talked to and we started hanging out a lot. My grandfather didn't like him at all and I spent more time with Aleksei than I did at home."

"I bet that made your grandfather sad. I get sad when Lucy wants to spend more time with Madison than me," Peyton says as if it's the worst thing in the world.

"Yeah, it did. I wish now I would've listened to him because I got into some trouble with Aleksei," I say, sighing.

She gasps and I'm again wondering how much and just how to tell her about this. This is Peyton, and if I know anything about her, I know that she can spot bullshit, so I figure straight and to the point is the best way.

"Peyton, one night I went somewhere with Aleksei. I didn't realize when we went to the man's house that he was going to do something bad. He hurt the man. I stayed behind and helped him, but Aleksei ran away. I had really thought we were friends, but we never really were." The thought that I'd been so blind and such a fool all those years ago is as painful now as it was then.

I'm watching Peyton and her little face is scrunched up and I can tell she's waiting for me to continue. Now comes the hard part.

"I had to call the police and ambulance to help the man. See, it wasn't just a scraped knee; he was hurt very badly and I could only help him so much, and I wanted to help him as much as I could."

Her little lip is quivering as she quietly asks, "Was he going to die?"

Her question doesn't shock me though it really should. Why must she be so smart? I slowly nod my head. "But he didn't, Sprite. The ambulance came and they saved him." I look down at the rock that she was brushing her hand against earlier, swallow heavily and continue. "The police came, too, and … and because I was there and I went there with Aleksei … they arrested me. That is when I got into trouble. They put me in jail because of that and that's where I have been until I came here."

I can see so much of Bella in Peyton's face while she is thinking about this. Confusion – and then anger. "That's not fair! I got in trouble at school because Will was talking and he wouldn't be quiet and I got in trouble, too! It wasn't my fault, but I got sent to the principal's office and I really wasn't doing anything. That's just like you, Edward. You were just there! You didn't do anything wrong! Why did you get in trouble? You helped that man! Why didn't dumb Aleksei get into trouble and not you?" She says all this in her usual Peyton way, not a breath to be taken, and I can't help but chuckle at her ire.

"Oh, sweetheart, sometimes things just work out that way. I made some bad choices and they led me to where I was, but I don't want to think about those anymore. I want to be here with you and your mom, but I need to know if we are still best friends. I know this is a lot to think about, but I need to know if we are okay."

Peyton gives me an eye roll and says, "You didn't do anything bad, Edward. You aren't bad. You're my best friend … and … I love you."

Hearing her utter those words takes my breath away. For what seems like the longest time I just look at this little girl who has stolen my heart and given me something to look forward to, something to aim for in my future. I wrap my arms around her and hug her to me, whispering in her ear, "I love you, too, Peyton."

We sit on that rock together, just hugging each other for a few moments until I release her and look into her sweet face. "Do you want to ask me any questions?"

She just looks back at me, searching my face. "Are you okay now?"

I give her a slow nod and smile. She returns my nod and says, "Good! Now, let's have some cookies."

I just grin at my best friend and agree that it's snack time. I never expected her to take it so well, but if I've learned anything, it's that my girls are full of surprises.


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