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…
Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.
36: Kiss Me Goodnight
…
Friday, February 3 (cont.)
Wanting to look cute for Edward, I pulled a cropped maroon hoodie over a white T-shirt but kept the same jeans on. Dad teased me relentlessly when I asked him to make the side french braid that suited my face, but I was too giddy to be bothered by it. Emmett and mom were going over CVs of the second bodyguard I was going to get at the end of March (ugh), and I was applying my tinted lip balm in front of mom's vanity when dad yelled, "Honey, your boyfriend's here!"
Edward's finger was on the doorbell when I opened the door. Red lines dented his cheeks and forehead from the cushion of the helmet.
Helmet under his arm, he entered the hallway and slid off his shoes. Looking at me with bright eyes, he stepped against me, held his palm ever-so-gently against my back and brushed his lips against mine. The warm but outrageously refreshing glacier gum he'd been chewing left me breathless and a little weak in the knees. Or maybe that was the dazed, soft look in his eyes.
"Boyfriend, huh?"
I froze, gaping, because of course our walls were made of paper.
"Dad, I have scheduled you for murder tonight!"
"Sweetie, we don't have a gun and knives are messy!" dad shouted back. "Can it not wait until tomorrow?"
Edward grinned against my forehead before I face-planted against his cold zipper. "I'm sorry. Don't listen to him."
His palm gripped my side, squishing me against him. With a smile in his voice, he spoke against my ear, "Why? You have some other boyfriend I should know about?"
His warm breath sent a flurry of goosebumps down my neck.
"No," I replied, feeling a bit shy, but my smile was undeniable.
"Good." He kissed me for three breathless, quiet seconds, overwhelming me with his scent.
Edward slid off his jacket just as Emmett came to put on his. Obviously tired from whatever the hell he did all day, Emmett took one look at the red lines on Edward's face and tilted his head.
"Your helmet's not supposed to apply pressure on your forehead," he said. "You need one that fits you properly."
Edward squinted, his expression not quite mocking but still a bit sharp. "Sure thing. Just let me know when you find a pot of gold lying around and I'll get myself an Arai. Until then—" Edward put his helmet on the highest empty shelf. "It'll do."
Emmett gave me a look that spoke volumes about what he thought of Edward's current helmet, and I was up for getting him a new one but, unfortunately, a discussion like that required more time and nuance than slapping him in the face with my secret money.
Emmett left with the promise to pick me up at eight AM tomorrow.
As always, Edward and I took over the living room carpet, and I was just taking out my World History textbook when Edward tugged at my maroon hoodie.
"What's this?" he asked, eyes sparkling. "Do you have a camera in my room or what?"
Edward's blue jeans, unlike mine, were ripped, and I laughed when he revealed a dark red T-shirt under his white graphic hoodie.
"Maybe."
"Plagiarist."
He grinned under my lips when I kissed him.
Studying was the last thing on my mind when I curled up on the carpet next to him, but I persevered even if his gaze on my mouth made me feel like crawling into his hoodie. The little kisses he awarded me with may have been the world's best, most cruel incentive. My God if Edward didn't give the most breathtaking kisses but I didn't want him to stop.
He was the perfect gentleman, though.
And we were in the living room. So there was that.
Dad fed us dinner, and Edward inhaled seconds even after finishing my salmon pasta. Having ice-cream for dessert, we finished my homework even for Tuesday and rubbed Jake who was purring by our legs. Drizzle hit the windows in the darkness. Edward shifted closer, grazing his fingertips against my shoulder and making me feel tingly as ever.
Leaning closer, he asked, "Why do we never study in your room?"
I smushed my nose against his shoulder as I grinned, unwilling to admit that I hadn't had a free second to put my floordrobe into the wardrobe. I wasn't ashamed of my room, but even tidy, it was a decidedly uncool one with very little personal in it since I barely had time to do my homework. I had no cool posters or pictures or artsy décor, just plain beige walls we never even got around to painting.
Dad chose that moment to appear in the living room with an envelope and a tired smile. "For your tutoring."
Edward shook his head. "That's okay, sir."
Dad narrowed his eyes, but Edward kept refusing the envelope until dad handed the envelope to me. "Make him take it like you did last time."
He left, but there was something in Edward's expression that made me turn fully towards him.
"You didn't take it last time!" I accused, eyes wide.
He rubbed his neck, not saying anything, but the truth was written all over his face. I jumped up, ran to the hallway to my dad's construction jacket and found Edward's envelope in the inner pocket.
"Explain yourself," I warned, back in the living room. I sat on my knees next to him.
Edward stifled his smile. "You're cute when you're angry."
"Nuh-oh. No." I slapped his thigh with the envelopes. "Why won't you take them?"
"Bella… your dad paid for all the parts I needed last Saturday. Jasper paid me back, but your dad lost money."
"Did he say that he wanted you to pay him back?"
"No, but—"
"Then it's yours. Both envelopes."
Edward ran the tips of his fingers along my thigh, chewing on his bottom lip. "Bella, I enjoy tutoring you. It feels wrong to take money for it."
"Yeah I enjoy acting, too. Doesn't stop me from wanting to be paid for it."
Jake sent Edward a scathing look of disapproval when Edward shifted and turned towards me. He took my hands in his. "Can't you see that this is a conflict of interest? Me being your tutor and your boyfriend?"
A shot of warmth traveled through me at him casually calling himself my boyfriend.
"I mean, you want to tutor me and you want to kiss me. I don't see any conflict. I only see interest."
Edward held my hands against his chin and hid his laughter behind the envelopes.
"Flawless logic."
"I know." I lifted his hoodie, pulled the edge of his jeans back and slid the envelopes as far inside his pants as I could (only one third). Covering them up with his hoodie, I bit my lip not to laugh at the way his lips parted in surprise, but, next thing I knew, Edward pushed himself off the floor and leaned over my body. His lips brushed against my ear.
"You just want to get into my pants, don't you."
Eyes wide, I gulped. I was not prepared for a boy who put his flirting skills to intentional use. Feeling more than a little inadequate, I took hold of his bicep and touched my nose against his cheek.
"Do you blame me?"
My heartbeat echoed in my ears at the breathless danger in his eyes and the way his eyelashes moved when his gaze flickered to my mouth. He leaned in and kissed me, almost desperately, lighting me up on the inside. The near-rumble of his groan vibrated through me. I slid my fingers into his hair, touching the tickly buzz cut I was learning to appreciate. I could've drowned in his taste, but his tongue touching mine brought me back to reality.
Breathless and alight, I pushed him away.
"Yours," I ordered, clearing my throat and handing him the envelopes that had fallen in my lap. Edward looked a bit drunk, his eyes half-closed and lips red as he accepted the envelopes almost in a daze. "I'll check every nook and cranny of our home before you leave to make sure you took them," I warned. "But—can you give me, like, three minutes?"
I reluctantly got up to do the fastest speed-cleaning of a bedroom that had ever happened, but I'd just turned the doorknob to my room when I felt Edward's presence behind me.
"Is it haunted?"
Facepalming, I clicked the door closed and turned around. Edward stood inches from me with his lean chest, wide shoulders and an unzipped hoodie I could've buried my nose in.
"I'd feel better if it was. Can you turn around and wait here for three minutes?"
"Why?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing." I lowered my gaze to his chest.
"What is it?" His lips widened to a grin as he stepped flush against me and buried his nose in my hair. His palm covered mine on the doorknob. Tempted to fight him but knowing I'd lose, I grimaced and prepared myself for the worst.
Edward pushed the door open. Unwilling to see the state of my room, I hid my face in his chest, but when he said nothing, I looked up.
He squinted at me. "What's the part I'm not supposed to see, here?"
I peeked out from behind my fingers and discovered my room… clean. Boring as hell, but clean.
I was going to buy mom a lifetime subscription to all the magazines she'd ever dreamed of, and some she'd never heard of. With free wine, and all the designer clothes.
Ugly plum-colored sheets covered my iron double-bed with a pile of mismatched pillows by the headboard. The standard white IKEA table had seen better days (as had my chair), and a worn yellow-and-gray zigzag rug completed the ensemble. Fortunately, I had a small built-in wardrobe, but I knew my tiny, sad room must've been among the uncoolest Edward had been in.
"I'm sorry," I said with the best grimacing smile I could manage.
"For…?"
"You know." I shrugged. "The raddest room you've ever been in."
Edward grinned, his eyes still taking in the details of my ugly abode. "You know where I live, right? Were you ever in my granny's bedroom?"
"A few times."
"Do you remember anything about it?"
I did. I remembered heavy purple drapery, large rose prints on dark blue wallpaper with the style carrying over to the bedding and the armchairs, and tassels as far as the eye could see.
I, too, grinned, but at least Edward returned it. His fingertips brushed along my spine as he whispered, "Makes your room look pretty cool, huh?"
I shivered at how casually he stood against me.
"You didn't change anything about your granny's?"
He shrugged. "With what money? Or time? Hopefully I won't have to live at home when I head off to college, and my dad has weird attachments to things mom might've breathed on once upon a time, so… no. Can't even use the closets lest I have to move mom's clothes out of the way."
"But… I thought you moved there after your mom passed away?"
"We did, but… I don't know. Grief is weird."
We both became aware of my mom at the doorway, awaiting with her smile carefully neutral as if I'd coached her to look like I had boys in my bedroom all the time.
Edward, checking the time, rubbed his neck.
"I should probably—"
"No, no. You don't have to leave on our account," mom said, perfectly casual. "I just wanted to say that Charlie and I didn't get much sleep last night, so we'll turn in. We locked the front door but, honey, please remember to do that again if Edward leaves before the morning."
I nearly laughed at how Edward's brain short-circuited at the loudest word in the world, the if, but mom stepped in the room and handed me dad's bluetooth speakers.
"Thanks, mom."
"Thank your dad. He's the one who—" Mom raised her eyebrows, her lips stretching into a grin, obviously referring to the floordrobe that had magically disappeared. God, dad must've been really scared about the Garrett situation if he did uncharacteristic stuff like clearing out my floor on the off-chance that Edward stepped into it.
Mom tilted her head. "Hãy giữ an toàn nhé." (Please stay safe.)
I gave her an embarrassed smile but nodded.
Mom said her goodnights and began to close the door when my gray furball Jake sat in the hallway, facing my bedroom but not entering it. When he didn't move, mom closed the door only for us to hear his clawing of the door, but when mom cracked the door again, King Bahati looked at us as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"He's going to want straight out if I let him in," mom said, nudging Jake's butt. "But it's more annoying if I leave him out. Sweet dreams."
I turned on my table lamp as mom shut the door. Jake sat down, tail moving slowly, tilting his head to observe the door before casting us a judgmental glance, probably mad about being forced to make such a difficult decision in a rush.
Ignoring Jake, I suppressed the jitters of having the alien creature that was Edward in my bedroom. I leaned against my table. Edward sat on my bed.
"Never met parents like yours before. They're… cool."
"Oh they're totally freaking out right now," I replied, setting dad's bluetooth speakers on the table behind me (I always borrowed them whenever I had friends over). "Not that they're not cool. But definitely freaking out."
"Really? I couldn't tell." Edward removed his hoodie, distracting me with his biceps and hairy, bare forearms with my threads on his wrist. "Why?"
"You know." I shrugged. "I have a boy in my room. That's new territory."
Edward leaned back against the bed, resting on his straight arms. His dark red T-shirt pulled taut against his chest, and he looked insanely attractive with his knees peeking out from his ripped jeans. His buzz cut and eyebrow piercing sharpened his features, giving him a dangerous edge, but the way his eyelashes flickered as he observed me with his soft gaze sent a wave of tingles over my skin.
He licked his lips. "So what do you want to do?"
Everything, I wanted to answer, wishing I had the experience and comfort-level to just straddle his lap and start making out with him. I didn't. It was still early, only eight thirty PM, so instead, I pulled our chess board out from underneath my bed and sat on my knees next to him.
Edward chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes twinkling.
"Where'd you get that?"
He settled against the headboard, his one knee curled off the bed and the other under him so that his legs surrounded the game on his side of the bed. His quiet confidence intimidated me, but I didn't let it show as we played a few games. It was a true testament to Edward's kindness that he didn't grow frustrated at me when I lost with less than ten moves. That was until I pulled out my trump card, Bella's Gambit, and accidentally beat him with two moves. Edward engineered it, of course, but still, I took advantage of his moves, and he watched me with his green eyes bright and full of affection when I did my little happy dance.
"Fool's Mate, baby," Edward said, his low voice wrapping around the words. "The quickest checkmate. Nicely noticed."
"So am I a chess prodigy or what?"
Edward laughed. Giddy in his gaze, I grinned.
"So if you can beat the opponent in two moves with Fool's Mate, does that make it an opening or an endgame?"
"That's…" Edward paused. "Almost philosophical. I'd wager both."
"But what makes an opening an opening, anyway? Aren't there, like, infinite options? When does it get a name? Is it when it's really good? But what makes it good?"
Eyes glinting with some unnamed emotion, Edward hesitated, taking in my onslaught of questions. I was just about to apologize when he lifted the chess board out of the way and tilted his head, motioning for me to sit in front of him. Heart thumping wildly in my chest, I scooted as close as I dared to until Edward wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to sit between his legs with my back against his chest. His breath warmed my ear as he lowered the chess board back on the bed.
Every cell in my body was aware of his arm tight around my waist, only a thin T-shirt away from touching my skin. A nervous longing shot through me when his lips grazed against my ear.
"Let me show you." He lifted a pawn, motioning on the squares as he spoke. "A pawn can move either one or two squares. Eight pawns, that's sixteen moves. Two knights, two ways—adds another four moves. That's twenty options for the white to start the game. Same for black. So, twenty times twenty, that's four hundred choices for the first move alone. Same for the second move—four hundred ways to respond to your opponent's first move, which means that there's a hundred and sixty thousand possible combinations of the first two moves alone. Not infinite, but definitely a lot."
"How many moves create an opening?"
"Usually between eight and twelve."
"But if that's the case, wouldn't you have… billions of combinations that could form an opening?"
Edward stared at me long enough that I turned my head to face him, and he brushed his lips against mine in a heated, toe-curling kiss.
"Please don't become a chess player. You'll give me a run for the money."
Feeling his admiration in my bones, I grinned while Edward settled his chin back into the crook of my neck.
"The trouble is, not every combination of an opening allows you to control the center, to move the pieces to where they'd have the biggest impact on your future game, or avoid pawn weaknesses, and so on. But you are correct in that openings are somewhat arbitrary and evolve with time. They go in and out of style, they get unexpected defenses that get their own names. Some give you great results among amateurs but fail with grandmasters, and vice versa. There's a lot involved."
"How many of them are named?"
"Over a thousand."
"Damn. Do you know all of them?"
"I'm not sure anyone can claim to know all of them. But I know many of them."
I felt Edward's heartbeat through his skin on my neck, and covered his hand with mine. Nervous, giddy and excited in his arms, all at once, I asked, "Do I ask too many questions?"
"No, you're… you're perfect," he replied, his voice low and attractive. "I'm still trying to figure out if you're just being polite or how you're so interested."
"But I love hearing about it. I just feel bad that my interest is rare enough that you'd notice it."
I turned my head just as Edward shifted me to be sideways in his arms. His green eyes on my lips sent a flurry of butterflies through me, and I slid my arm behind his back when our lips met. Floating in the way his grip tightened around my waist, I sunk against him. He felt incredible, firm and warm, gentle in the way he held me in his arms and yet overwhelming in his presence. A hot, longing ache settled low in my stomach just as a small weight dipped off the mattress.
Jake's weight on the floor was just enough to release some pressure off my closet door which creaked loudly as an enormous pile of clothes plopped on the floor.
Gasping for breath with my laughter, I hid my flushed face in Edward's neck.
Voice full of suppressed laughter, he said, "So it is haunted."
Too embarrassed to look at him, I pressed my lips against his skin. "I'm so sorry. Please pretend that didn't just happen."
Edward squeezed me. He made multiple attempts to see my face before I relented and facepalmed in front of him. His eyes were sparkling with laughter.
"Honestly, I'm relieved. You're too good for me. I'm glad you have a few flaws hidden in there somewhere."
Tempted to tell him how very many flaws he'd have the displeasure of discovering in the future but knowing it would've been a terrible idea to introduce him to them this early, I kissed him. Edward wore the cutest smile under my lips.
It was surreal to be in his arms on my bed, to get to kiss him, to feel his palm squeezing my waist and his hot breath against my face. Still grinning, I aligned our pink threads on our wrists and intertwined our fingers, brown against white. "I love this contrast."
Edward rested his chin on my shoulder. "Me, too." I felt his searching gaze on my face as he hesitated, his smile fading.
"I can't tell you about Lauren without ruining our evening but I'll have to ruin one of them if you want to hear it, so—it might as well be today."
Still dizzy with his kisses, I squeezed his palm. "Please."
Edward shifted to see my face better but didn't let go of me. He chewed on his bottom lip. "These are not my words or thoughts, okay? And I don't want to hurt you—"
"I can take it," I replied, touched by his concern. "She said something racist, didn't she?"
The way Edward's face twisted as he gave me a side-nod spoke for itself.
"It was… a monologue of maybe a dozen sentences? I'm not sure. I can't imagine how much I must've zoned out during some of her previous monologues to encourage her to say those things around me, which is… terrifying, but the discussion started with your two dates with two different guys. I'm not even going to get into how she thought that that was typical of black people, but what bothered her most was that you'd have the audacity to date a white guy, even 'if you're cute for a black girl.'"
Edward used air quotes, his eyes full of anger and apologies.
"I'm— I'm— okay," I stuttered, finally realizing why Edward had said there were too many layers of Lauren's opinions to unravel. "That's a… horrifying compliment. Or is that, like, sugar-laced horror? And, what, I'm only supposed to date black people?"
"Your 'own kind,' according to her," Edward said, his voice rough. "She said she'd come talk sense into you."
"My own kind? What's that, half-Namibian, quarter Vietnamese and quarter white? That leaves me a dating pool of a total of, what, three people in the world?"
Edward laughed in spite of himself but squished his nose against my cheek, whispering, "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't know."
I turned my face to kiss him and brushed away his worried frown with my thumb.
"She just kept digging herself deeper with her monologue. I was in such shock I couldn't reply, but I think she took that as encouragement to continue. I don't think I should—"
"Please tell me. I'm dying to know."
Edward exhaled against my cheek. "She went on to say that of course I'd have to tutor you given that… according to her, black people aren't as bright as everyone else as proven by SAT scores."
"I… wow. I'm— I don't know what to say. Isn't that a beautiful misinterpretation of systemic racism. Does she think it's genetic? Not over a century of disadvantages that seep into the education system from when you're young? Is she related to Charles Murray? Or my granny?"
"Not my words! Not my words, Jesus. I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't know, Bella, if I'd known—"
"I know," I replied, kissing him. "I've met you, Edward. I know."
Chewing on his bottom lip as he often did, Edward locked eyes with me, hesitating.
"Just tell me," I replied, kissing his knuckles. "I'd rather know."
"She thinks you behave too white for a black person."
I laughed. "Oh, this one I've heard before. Not sure what exactly it means, but I've heard it before."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. It's the ultimate problem of mixed-race kids. I struggled a lot with it in kindergarten. My parents are white, so obviously, that's the cultural background I have… whatever that entails. But I look black. So I behaved too white for black kids but looked too black for white kids, and my mom has too much Vietnamese upbringing for me not to have some Asian cultural traits like having to take off shoes in all homes I go to or feeling the eternal guilt of not wanting to become a surgeon or a software engineer. It's a lot to unravel."
Edward brushed his fingers against my waist. "You must think I'm so boring compared to you."
"Not at all." I smiled against his cheek. "I'd love to hear about your family, but before we do that—let's finish the beautiful train wreck that's Lauren's opinions on race."
"I don't remember anything else, so hopefully there wasn't, but…" The corner of Edward's mouth lifted into a rueful, disbelieving smile. "Do you want to take a guess at how Lauren justified her opinions?"
I arched an eyebrow.
"She cannot be racist because her parents once considered buying a house from a black family."
"Considered it? Oh isn't that sweet." I laughed. "How generous of them. My God. Poor Lauren."
"Poor Lauren?"
"Yeah. Imagine holding those views and thinking you finally found a guy to commiserate with only for him to break up with you on the spot for them. Poor thing."
Edward laughed.
"I can see why you wanted to make her reveal her opinions herself, though. Half of the school is black, and she has enough black classmates that she gets along with for nobody to believe you if you just said it outright."
"I also just… didn't want to hurt you," Edward admitted. "And you know the worst part?"
"Tell me."
Edward gave me a sheepish smile. "A part of me was relieved that she revealed her true colors in such a gloriously fucked-up monologue because… breaking up has never been easier. I rehearsed things to tell her about how she was a nice girl but we didn't fit, and… in the end, she made it so easy I would've laughed in her face if I hadn't been fuming."
I kissed his jaw because I didn't know how else to respond. It was just too surreal how Lauren, who had seemed like a pretty cool girl, turned out to have such outrageously backward views.
I turned to face Edward.
"Thank you for telling me." I lifted myself on my knees to press a quick kiss on his lips. "And I'm pretty sure your answer is obvious, but my parents will kill me if they find out I never explicitly established this in the very beginning." I stroked his jaw. "My race is not a problem for you, is it?"
"Bella." Edward's eyes were tender as he ran his palm up and down my waist. He touched his nose against mine. "No. I'm not dating you because of your race, or in spite of it. It's just a part of who you are, and I don't know if you've noticed, but you're—amazing."
Wild affection cursed through me, and I kissed him before I grinned. "And the fact that it pisses Lauren off that I'm dating outside my race is just a side perk?"
Edward laughed and crushed me in a hug so forcefully that I squealed and fell on my back. He straddled my hips and kissed the skin in front of my ear, thankfully changing the subject. "Want to put on some music?"
Unsurprisingly, Edward torrented his music, so he teased me about being rich enough for a Spotify subscription. I was worried he'd scoff at my basic, popular taste but he didn't seem to mind, but he did mind that I'd never heard of his current favorite artist, Dermot Kennedy, which was how he convinced me to put on a song called Dancing Under Red Skies on repeat, quiet enough that it wouldn't bother my parents but loud enough to hear the words.
When I finished connecting the bluetooth, I discovered Jake perched on top of Edward's shoulder, licking his neck.
Edward looked hilariously helpless with his hands up in the air.
"Mr. Bahati!" I scolded, climbing on my bed. "Get your own boyfriend. This one's mine."
I lifted Jake off of Edward before boldly straddling Edward's lap. He took hold of my ass and slid me right against him, sending a jolt of breathless excitement through me. He touched his nose against mine, side to side, his chest rumbling as he asked,
"What's wrong with your cat?"
I slid my fingers in his tickly buzz cut. "He has outrageously good taste in men, unfortunately."
Edward laughed. He slid his palms up and down my back, squeezing me, holding me, pressing me tighter against him. He rubbed his slightly-rough cheek against mine.
"Tell me if I move too fast."
Feeling weightless in his raw, longing gaze, I nodded.
"Words," he whispered against my lips, observing me with a softness that made my entire body buzz with anticipation. "Give me words."
"Yes," I replied, afloat in his care. "I'll tell you."
I was lost in the lingering sweetness of the ice cream on his tongue when he kissed me. He moved his lips against mine like he couldn't get close enough, touching my tongue with his and breathing through my mouth. His firm warmth and toe-curling scent sent a longing ache between my legs. I adjusted myself in his lap to feel the bulge in his jeans exactly where I wanted it, and his gruff rumble reverberated through me. He slid his palms under my bra on my back, kneading my muscles. I let go of him to remove my hoodie, and the unrestrained need in his wild eyes set me aflame. Brushing his lips against mine again, he inhaled through my mouth.
"Hold on," he grumbled, pulling me flush against him before he turned us around and lowered me against the mattress. The slow rhythm of the beautiful song Edward chose almost drowned out the dull thumps of chess pieces falling on the carpet, but I was too distracted by his delicious weight on me to pay much attention to it. The song was a sexy background to making out with him, and I promised myself I'd listen to its words later.
Breathing hard, Edward searched my eyes with a breathless, half-hooded desire before he clung to my lips, nipping and sucking, thrusting against me, slowly, firmly, and nothing had ever felt as thrilling as his weight on top of me. The coarse hair of his happy trail tickled my lower stomach when our T-shirts rode up, and I adored feeling his warm stomach against mine. The hairs on his lower back tickled my fingers. He growled against my neck when I pulled him closer.
"Fuck I want you." His quiet, gruff voice, barely an exhale, shot a spark straight through me. I felt abuzz with affection and attraction and a desperate need for more of his lips and weight on mine, but my reactions must've slowed because Edward lifted his head. The raw honesty in his words lingered in the air, and I could see the gears beginning to reverse in his eyes as I stumbled to respond.
"Nobody's ever—" I slid my fingers in his hair and held his face against my neck so that I could speak directly in his ear. The words were so simple they felt downright silly to say, but I persevered, quietly admitting, "I want you, too."
With a slow, half-drunk haze in his eyes, Edward licked his lips and pressed them against mine, molding his strength around me, his chest squishing my boobs, his biceps holding my waist, and his hot, intoxicating breath mixing with mine.
Edward dipped his face against my cheek, and his lips on my ear sent goosebumps down my spine.
"When's your birthday?"
Feeling a little high, I grinned and slid my palms under his T-shirt on his back. Edward froze, lifting himself higher. "Not because—"
But the words would've been a lie, so Edward cut himself off. His eyes were blazing with want and fear and all the tender affection I could've imagined.
"I hope it's because," I replied as if it was a full sentence. His green eyes, if possible, softened to embers, and I swept my thumb over his eyebrow before holding it gently against his piercing. "I'm glad it's because."
Edward groaned.
"It's just that—" He cleared his throat, adjusting himself on top of me but never moving away. "You're so young. It was all I could see at first, but it was easy to forget when I got to know you. I don't know if it's because you've had to grow up fast, acting as much as you do, but I don't feel an age difference with you. But… that doesn't change the fact that you're fifteen."
I kissed him.
"It's in two weeks. February 16th."
I could feel the tension melt from his shoulders as his eyes snapped to mine, and his relief was so obvious he smushed his nose against my cheek. "Sorry," he whispered with a smile in his voice. "I'm just really not into going to jail."
I grinned. Even if it was a necessary discussion, it also felt ridiculous. I could consent to anything with Edward but my consent didn't count yet in the eyes of the law.
"I'm glad," I replied. "I'm sure you'd look hot and buff, handshaking everyone to death, but I quite like having you against me like this."
Edward groaned, squishing me in his cocoon.
"I swear I didn't come to your room just to make out with you."
"Well that makes one of us," I replied, sticking out my tongue in mischief. "Because I definitely invited you to my room to make out with you."
Edward laughed against my neck before he took a long, slow, steadying breath and adjusted himself on his elbows. I could've melted in his intense, half-hooded gaze and red-kissed lips.
"It's getting late," he whispered, touching the tip of his nose to mine. "I should probably go soon."
Licking my lips, I squeezed the warm, taut muscles on his waist. "Kiss me goodnight first?"
…
A/N: Adore your thoughts :)