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EPOV
A shower and change of clothes before spending an undetermined amount of time in the immediate vicinity of the extremely hot woman who I was definitely falling in love with probably would have been a good idea.
Maybe she wouldn't be opposed to sharing a quick shower... She would look unbelievable in the shower, all wet, and naked, and wet...
That, right there, needed to stop, preferably before I was spotted with a woody.
I checked to make sure she hadn't snuck up on me, then shifted my erection into a more unnoticeable, yet way more uncomfortable, position.
Okay, mister, I scolded, the extremely dirty and sinful thoughts about Bella need to stop here and now.
The self-scoldings always worked when I imagined my mother's voice. This time wasn't any different.
I felt horrible for constantly needing to remind myself that she was a lady, not a whore. Bella was not a whore, at all, but for some ungodly reason I was always imagining her naked, doing very unladylike things.
Bella does not want to get naked for you. Bella does not want to shower with you. Bella especially does not want to see your woody.
With that thought, I rounded the corner to find her waiting for me at the end of the aisle. The sun was setting behind her and the bright orange bathed her body with light. She looked like an angel. It was universal knowledge that once you imagine an angel naked, you're condemned.
You're going to Hell anyway...
She hadn't noticed me yet, which gave me a moment to simply take her in. Her beauty knocked me breathless, even as she shifted from foot to foot, her head hung down, and her hands stuffed in her pockets. She looked so innocent standing there in the sunset light.
She slowly looked up when I cleared my throat. I forced my feet to connect with my brain and move. Her eyes caught mine and I felt myself stumble when she smiled. I wanted to stop again, to just stand there and stare. I had to keep moving though, she would probably wonder what the hell was wrong with me if I froze mid-step, twenty feet away from her, and just gawked.
The beauty, the timidity, the kindness, the gentle way about her, the way she rode, the way she smelled... I wanted her. Not in just the physical sense, though I certainly wanted her that way too, but in a more literal sense as well. I wanted her as mine, forever. Even if we barely knew each other, I was confident I wanted only her for the rest of my life. I would gladly spend a lifetime trying to learn her. Inside and out.
I swallowed down my effeminate thoughts as I neared her. Trying to pretend like I had any manners at all, I awkwardly offered her my arm. "Shall we?"
Her smile stretched with amusement and her cheeks turned a deep rose-pink color. She stared bemusedly at my arm. "Um," escaped her lips before she hesitantly took my arm.
I would have chuckled at her, had I not been so busy fighting off my urges. I really wanted to hold her hand like some lovestruck ten-year-old. That was just one of many urges, though it was definitely a more acceptable one compared to the others. But still, I had no idea if she wanted to hold my hand, too.
Should I ask to hold her hand? Could I ask to hold her hand? Was this a date? Was this our first date? Did she want it to be a date? I wanted it to be a date. Would she let me kiss her?
I wanted to ask, but was too afraid. I at least needed to feed her before she ran screaming for her truck. I was her boss, she would never think of this as a date. She'd never want to hold my hand or kiss me, and she undoubtedly would never want to see my woody. I was her old boss with boner, and that's just... gross.
She probably had guys her own age falling at her feet. She didn't need me scamming on her like a pervert.
Neither of us spoke as we walked towards my house. I slowed as we neared her truck, giving her the option to run now and never look back. She gave me a questioning look and I continued on, hoping we wouldn't come to regret this.
I would rather keep my feelings, and boner, hidden than lose her forever.
I shoved the front door open, then motioned for her to enter before me. I put forth a painstaking effort to keep my eyes off of her body as we took out shoes off.
"Feel free to ravish or, uh, search the kitchen." I grimaced at my Freudian slip. "Put out anything you'd like, I have no idea what you want tonight," I mumbled on. I wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment. Did I really just say 'put out' and ask her what she wanted tonight?
"I'll be right back," I sighed dejectedly.
"Okay," she replied hesitantly. "Can I use your bathroom?"
I shook my head jokingly, trying to relieve some of the tension. When her face fell, I rolled my eyes. "Of course you can, silly; you don't have to ask me."
She glared at me in a mocking sort of way then reached out and poked me in the arm. "Well, yes, I did, since I don't know where your bathroom is."
"Oh..."
I somehow managed to forget she hadn't been in the house except the one time to clean up her cuts, and she'd only seen the kitchen then. I guess after all the time I'd spent imagining her in various rooms of the house—and in various compromising positions—I'd started to confuse fantasy with reality.
"Follow me," I urged, leading the way through the kitchen, into the dining area, then living room, and finally into the hallway where the bathroom was. "Let me know if you need anything."
She blushed as she nodded her head minutely.
Embarrassed yet again, I turned and left her to her business. Let me know if you need anything? Seriously? I'm pretty sure she can find the toilet paper just fine, creep.
"Shit," I cursed under my breath, forcing myself not to slam my bedroom door petulantly like I wanted to.
I was ruining this. If I even had any chance at all to sweep her off her feet, I was totally blowing it right now with my completely pitiful social skills.
The last time I'd had a first date was on my twenty-first birthday when Alice managed to talk me into a blind date between an off-again stint with Tanya. I'd gotten shit-faced on Jager and threw up on her shoes. How's that for awkward. I couldn't even remember her name.
At least I wouldn't have to worry about throwing up on Bella's shoes since I wouldn't be drinking, although my nerves were likely to get the best of me.
I walked into my master bathroom and quickly washed my hands and face. I took a few deep breaths and leaned onto the counter, staring at myself in the mirror.
Cowboy up. Ride hard or go home. Grab the bull by the horns. Make the best of your eight seconds.
For some reason, every cowboy saying I had sounded extremely dirty in my head. I really wanted to cowboy up on Bella, ride her hard, grab her horns, and make the best of the eight seconds... or more.
Holy shit.
I took another breath to steel my nerves, then shook my head as I realized that I was already hard as steel.
Calm the hell down, I warned, staring pointedly at the bulge in my jeans. No need to get all worked up, that's the only surefire way to ruin everything.
I continued my 'pep talk' as I exited my room. Bella was waiting in the kitchen when I returned. I forced a relaxed grin and winked at her as I walked passed to the pantry closet, where I know Alice had stored some fine-dining ware.
I came back wielding some brand new candles and candle stands.
Bella gave me a look of disbelief. "You won't let me go home to shower and change, but you can pull out the candlesticks? Honestly Edward, it's just me."
I grinned widely. I really loved that she used my own words against me, and I quite possibly wanted to kiss her more than ever.
"Absolutely," I answered her question. I chose not to reply to her second comment, I could spend all day explaining why she deserved only the best. "Did you find anything good?" I questioned.
Her eyes fixated on my chest, then dropped lower while she licked her lips. I knew she was only thinking, or something, but her staring at my groin while she licked her lips was not helping my situation at all.
I cleared my throat in hope of regaining her attention and her head snapped up quickly, her cheeks flaming dark red.
"What? Oh, no, I haven't looked yet."
I groaned quietly to myself. Trying to distract myself, I said the first thing that came to mind, which, of course, was a mistake. "By all means, Bella, start going through my drawers."
Both of our eyes widened as the words registered, the double entendre obvious. I dropped my head and shoulders in embarrassment and started running my fingers through my hair.
I inhaled sharply when I felt the immediately recognizable electric touch on the hand that was tugging at my hair. Hesitantly, she pulled my hand free and wrapped her own in it.
"Come on, you have to help me," she mumbled.
Once again, the smile was back on my face.
She was so sweet, even though I just couldn't seem to stop making an ass of myself.
"Fridge first?" she muttered questioningly.
I shrugged and squeezed her hand, thankful that it was still in mine. "Whatever you want."
She blushed and shuffled toward the fridge with me still in tow. She pulled open the fridge and peeked in.
"So what are my options?" she asked.
I moved my eyes from her face to the fridge then groaned, pushing the fridge shut. I forgot that I hadn't grocery shopped in a while and the fridge was looking pretty bare of anything that wasn't beer or pizza.
"How about we start with the freezer?" I suggested, pulling that open instead. There were many more options there.
"You pick, this is your house and dinner, you make what you want. I'm not picky."
I frowned down at her. "I thought this was our dinner?"
She met my eyes and saw that I was serious. She squeezed my hand and smiled reassuringly. "It is, I just mean that I want you to choose."
I wanted to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tightly against me. To bury my nose in those flowing, dark locks and inhale her scent. To kiss all along the side of her neck. To make her moan my name and arch into me. To turn her head and devour those teasing lips of hers, so pink and so full...
"Are we just going to stand here all night?"
Yes, you can shut that door, I'm not looking at it anyway, but I would happily stand here all night just staring at you. Perhaps you might want to take it further though—
My thoughts were interrupted when I met her eyes. She was looking at me with an odd expression and blushing. I had quite obviously been caught checking her out, and she was embarrassed about it. I swallowed and finally looked towards the freezer.
I cleared my throat just for safe measures before I spoke, "Now have you seen anything you like?"
"Maybe," she answered cryptically. "How about you?"
My lips twitched. Yes, will you please offer yourself on the menu tonight? "Nothing in particular, no. What is it that you 'maybe', would like?"
"You're impossible," she huffed.
I laughed. "Oh, I'm impossible? You are not so easy yourself." God, I hoped she didn't take that wrong.
"Well, since both of us are as stubborn as the day is long, how about we both just close our eyes and pick something?"
Do I get to keep you if you are what I pick? "Fine, but I really wish you would just, please, pick something that you really want."
"I don't care, Edward, I'd actually prefer if you would just surprise me."
"Surprise you, okay. Well is there anything you don't like?"
"No, please, just go crazy."
A mental images of Bella on the counter, naked, except for various edible toppings flashed behind my lids. I shook my head quickly, trying to dispel it.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," I warned with a grin.
Bella just smirked back.
Once I'd gotten dinner started, she nagged until I relented and finally let her help, keeping all sharp objects safely out of her grasp. The thought of Bella with a knife frankly scared me shitless.
Dinner didn't take long to cook and before I'd even realized how much time had passed, I was stuffed within an inch of being sick and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my full belly. Bella was leaned back too, smiling. I feared our night was coming to an end already.
"That was delicious. I don't cook very much anymore. I love to cook, but cooking for one isn't really, I don't know, rewarding?" Bella said.
"I know what you mean. We should do this more often. You can cook next time." Please say yes, please say yes...
She smiled, and to me it appeared genuine and I felt myself exhale a sigh of relief. "That sounds great."
"Tomorrow, perhaps?" I asked excitedly.
Her smile widened. "Yeah, but I set the rules."
I pursed my lips, pretending to consider it. "I suppose..."
"Do you think I could get off an hour early tomorrow?" she asked.
"That shouldn't be a problem. Why?"
"Well, I at least get to take a shower and change before I cook, and I need to get ingredients. Is there anything you don't like?"
I quoted her. "No, I'm not picky, please, just go crazy."
She leaned forward, smirking, "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
I felt myself smirking back at her. She couldn't possibly get any more attractive to me. "I'm helping," I insisted.
She leaned back again, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm running the show, but I might find a thing or two for you to do."
"Please, please, I'm begging you, let me run the knives."
Bella gasped in offense and glared at me. "You... Ugh, that is insulting!"
"I'm sorry," I said, immediately, "but the thought, it scares me," I added honestly.
She kept glaring at me, "I do need to be getting home now."
I pushed away from the table quickly, rising to my feet, "Oh Bella, I'm sorry, I was, well I wasn't kidding, but I didn't mean to insult you..."
Her eyes were wide as she watched my minor panic attack, then she laughed and stood too, "I'm not that big of a softy, Edward. I understand why you'd think I was an accident-waiting-to-happen with knives. I'm not really offended, but just so you know, I've only really cut myself once." She held out her middle finger at me, I could see a faint scar. "I do really need to be going though, it's getting late and I have to get home."
I nodded and walked around the table, I held my middle finger out to her then and said, "We match. Mine's not from a kitchen knife though."
She smiled and compared our scars, the odd thing was that they were almost identical. I took the opportune moment to twine our fingers back together and started towards the door. But she jerked me to a stop.
She gave me a somewhat dirty look. "Now, I hope you don't think I'm the kind of guest who leaves before helping clean up."
"Of course not, but I'm not allowing you to clean up," even though it would mean more time together. "I'm walking you to your truck, then I'll return and take care of it, no worries for you."
She shook her head. "Absolutely not." Then she yanked her fingers away from mine and started to collect the dishes.
I considered blocking the sink, but knowing her, she would just climb over me to get to her destination. Tempting thought... Instead, I started to fill the sink. Bella waltzed right up with the dishes, shoved against my side and succeeded in pushing me out of her way since I was not expecting it.
"I'll wash, you can dry."
I shook my head, she was quite demanding when she wanted to be. The dishes finished quickly, quicker then I wanted them to. Even the boring task of washing dishes was fun with Bella. She dried her hands and I followed as she headed towards the entry hall. I watched her bend to slip her boots on. I don't have a clue why those ratty old boots were hot, but they just were.
She stood and her brow wrinkled like it did when she was usually thinking. I stood awkwardly behind her. She boldly reached back and grasped my hand and it was nearly the undoing of me. I was so close to pulling her lips to mine, I could taste it, almost. She turned before I could and lead us out of the door. We walked to her truck in silence.
She turned towards me and spoke. "Edward, I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me, Bella. It was my pleasure. I've wanted to ask you for a while."
Her eyes were wide as she looked up at me. She looked like she might ask if I was serious, but instead she said, "Goodnight."
Before she could turn, and before I could lose the little nerve I'd gained, I stepped closer to her, gauging her reaction. Her eyes grew wider, if that was possible, her cheeks burned red, and her breathing seemed to grow longer. I watched her swallow once before her lips parted slightly and her tongue impulsively wet her lips. I leaned just a little bit closer. She stood stalk still.
Still leaning, I couldn't decide. Should I kiss her? It seemed like she wanted me to, but I couldn't be sure. I had to be sure.
I diverted towards the side of her mouth, settling for a kiss on the cheek, maybe just a little bit of lip.
Her skin was soft, warm, perfect. I didn't allow myself to linger, knowing I would be too tempted to just slide a little bit further and kiss her alluring lips.
Even the tiny, chaste kiss on the cheek was enough to get me going. Oh, who was I kidding, the slightest glimpse of her was enough to get me going, but that kiss on the cheek really got me going.
That was just... kind of sad. Had I lost years of maturity over night? Who gets excited over a freaking cheek kiss?
I do, apparently.
I leaned back out of Bella's personal space, sad to see the night was officially over. "Goodnight Bella."
I quickly released her hand and turned away. I had done well with not overstepping things... but I was not going to accomplish that for much longer. I was practically gasping for breath as I walked away. I didn't even open the door, I just leaned forward against it, afraid I might actually pass out.
This girl did crazy things to me. Things I never even imagined.
Even though I didn't want to go there, I did. She invoked feelings in me that even my... wife... had not. I was surprised not to feel the usual pang of sadness I was used to when I thought of her.
I hadn't even comprehended that she hadn't left yet until I heard her noisy door creak open, then slam shut. The deafeningly loud engine roared to life and I heard the gears grinding as she first reversed, then pulled away. I looked up just as her taillights disappeared into the night.
BPOV
I spent the majority of the time it took to do chores convincing myself that our date, in fact, was not a date.
Edward hadn't really clarified anything. All I knew is that we were having dinner. There was no confirmation that it was an actual date, nor did I have any idea how I was supposed to go about tonight. I mean, he didn't even want me to shower and change first... What did that mean?
I waited for him at the end of the barn aisle, hoping he was just taking extra long to finish up and hadn't forgotten about me. I shoved my hands into my pockets nervously so I wouldn't start picking at my nails.
He probably had forgotten. I wouldn't blame him for that, I was really quite forgettable. He had just wanted to make up for getting angry at me; he was a stand-up guy that way. This whole definitely-not-a-date date was a dumb idea.
I grabbed my lip with my teeth, considering my choices. I could leave now and completely write this off, and probably cry about it at home where I would be alone. Or I could just continue to wait and pretend he hadn't crushed my heart by forgetting about me. I definitely wouldn't be bringing this up, ever.
Did I really expect him to cook me dinner tonight, to remember that he asked me to spend time with him tonight?
Yes. Yes, I really had expected him to. He wasn't the forgetful type and he certainly wasn't the neglectful type. Edward was the type of man to do as he said he would, always.
So I waited, shifting anxiously from foot to foot and hoping like hell he didn't forget about me.
Halfway through another doubtful bout of apprehension, I heard a small noise, which sounded oddly like someone clearing their throat.
Oh, God, please tell me I'm not hearing things.
I looked up from my feet slowly.
There were his boots, and the really nice pair of jeans he was wearing today, and my favorite green t-shirt, which sadly weren't clinging quite as tightly to his hard body as it had been when it was wet. His hair was all over the place, even more so than usual and I felt myself smile at the way it could literally stand in every direction, somehow. His hair truly seemed to defy gravity.
He was walking towards me and I felt myself instinctively look him in the eye, to measure what he was feeling.
He looked... happy. Excited, maybe. Scared? I have no idea what he was feeling, but I was unquestionably all of the above.
Nervous as I was, I felt myself relax infinitesimally with each step he took towards me. It seemed he remembered, he looked a little bit happy to see me, and with him smiling at me that way, I couldn't be afraid of what may, or may not, happen.
Edward didn't stop walking toward me until he was standing directly in front of me. Up close, he was only more good looking. Even from afar he was obviously beautiful, but up close, you could really see just how breathtaking he was.
I'd never met a man who was so sinfully attractive.
And I'd certainly never had a man who was so ungodly hot offer me his arm before.
I stared blankly at his outstretched, crooked elbow. Was he really asking me to take his arm? I wanted to both laugh and cry.
His chivalry never ceased to make me swoon, and for some reason, when swooning, I had the tendency to open my idiot mouth.
"Umm," I hummed, hoping he took it for a sign of confusion or amusement or something, and not the moan it came out to be.
There was silence between us as he led me toward the house. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, it just was, both of us obviously being lost in our minds as we tended to do.
Was it possible that he maybe, sort of liked me?
As an employee, he clearly did. He was always complimenting and praising me, and occasionally he just seemed to watch me with this awkward look on his face. I hoped it was pride; I wanted him to be proud of me. It didn't seem he was repulsed by me, even now, when I probably smelled like a horse and looked like I had spent a whole day in a barn—which would make sense, since I had.
So did he like me, like me?
I rolled my eyes at myself. How old was I, twelve?
I glanced up at him as we neared my parked truck, which he seemed to be veering me toward.
What the hell was he doing?
He changed his course as soon as I looked up at him, keeping his eyes firmly on his front door which he was walking us toward. I thought I could see a small smile on his lips.
I do not understand this man, at all.
Edward opened his door for me and allowed me to enter before him, always such a gentleman. He led the way into the kitchen after we discarded our shoes, then offered me free reign over the kitchen. He seemed to withdraw himself again, and I decided I needed to simply stop trying to figure him out, because I never would.
"Can I use your bathroom?" I mumbled awkwardly.
The bathroom in the barn didn't have a mirror and I wanted to make sure I wasn't a complete mess.
Edward shook his head 'no' and I frowned in response. Was he one of those weird germaphobes who didn't want people to touch their private things?
Oh, jeez, I just thought about touching his 'private things' and he's standing right there, rolling his eyes at me like he knows what I just thought.
"Of course you can, silly; you don't have to ask me."
Of course I can touch his private things, without asking? Score!
Oh, no, he meant the bathroom.
I pretended to glare at him and poked his really sexy bulging bicep, as I declared that I did have to ask, since I had no idea where his bathroom was.
"Oh..." He sort of winced while he scratched his head, then encouraged me to follow him.
His house was huge, and immaculately decorated. He must have had it professionally done.
Edward gestured to the bathroom and kindly offered to be available if I needed anything.
I kind of wished I could ask for a sexier ensemble and use of his shower. Then again, if he had a woman's clothing in his house, I would be forced to think about his conquests, or look into the possibility that he may be a cross-dresser.
I didn't really want to consider either.
In the bathroom, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and immediately grimaced. My hair was a mess, there was even a piece of hay poking out of a tangled strand. I had a smudge of dirt on my neck and my lips were chapped.
Goodness, how the hell can he even look at me?
I set to work untangling my hair with my fingers and washing up as best as I could with only a sink and hand towel at my disposal.
I groaned in frustration when I still didn't really look any better after I finished. He obviously didn't care, though.
"It's just me."
Obviously he'd meant that it was just him, my boss, my friend. Why should he care what I look like when he obviously wasn't attracted to me? He didn't want anything more than friendship...
I made my way back to the kitchen, solidifying once and for all that this wasn't a date. A date between friends, maybe, but not a real date that would end in passionate kissing, or lovemaking.
That was until Edward came into the kitchen with a handful of expensive-looking candlesticks and candles.
Seriously? "You won't let me go home to shower and change, but you can pull out the candlesticks? Honestly Edward, it's just me."
He smiled in response, replying with a sure, "Absolutely. Did you find anything good?"
Oh yeah, and he's standing right in front of me.
My eyes uninhibitedly roamed over his chest, down his torso, then came to rest on the front of his tight jeans, where I knew he was packing some major heat. I'd felt it before... sort of.
I want you.
He cleared his throat and my thoughts quickly came back to the here and now. "What? Oh, no, I haven't looked yet."
"By all means, Bella, start going through my drawers."
Yes, please!
Edward seemed really embarrassed by his choice of words, and my throat tightened out of empathy. I knew how it felt to say something completely mortifying. His shoulders were hunched and his head was hung, and for once, he didn't look like the confident man I'd come to know.
Slowly, I made my way over to him, and when he didn't move away from me, I tentatively grasped his hand with my own, removing it from his hair—which was incredibly soft.
"Come on, you have to help me," I said expectantly.
I sighed as the crooked grin he always seemed to be wearing came back.
Edward didn't let go of my hand as we tried to decide what he was going to cook for dinner. He was stubborn, but in the end, I was the most tenacious and he ended up deciding on a beef-based Italian meal.
The talk was easy and the time passed quickly while he cooked. Every chance I got, I tried to help, but he was so damn set on doing it all by himself. In the end, I'm pretty sure all he really let me do was grate the cheese. Even that was done under his watchful eye.
Overbearing, even in the kitchen. Did that mean he was domineering in the bedroom?
I nearly choked on a piece of noodle.
The meal was so good, but it was only made complete by Edward's hardy moans and sighs as he ate. My head was elsewhere, wondering if he was as vocal in bed.
"So good," I murmured appreciatively.
I peeked up just in time to see Edward half-miss his mouth, getting sauce all over his lips. His tongue instantly darted out to clean it away and I nearly moaned at the sight.
His tongue... Those lips...
He looked up at me through his lashes as he wiped his mouth with the napkin and I shyly started eating again.
Once finished, Edward leaned back in his chair with a satisfied groan and started to rub his belly. I wasn't sure if I was more amused or turned on, and I quickly followed suit.
"That was delicious. I don't cook very much anymore. I love to cook, but cooking for one isn't really, I don't know, rewarding?" I rambled, not wanting to go home yet.
"I know what you mean. We should do this more often. You can cook next time."
He stared at me hopefully and I nearly rolled my eyes. What was I going to do, say no? I don't think so.
"That sounds great."
"Tomorrow, perhaps?" he asked, his eyes seeming to sparkle with excitement.
Again, there wasn't a chance in hell of me turning him down.
When he commented on my ability to safely handle a knife, I feigned offense. Much to my surprise, he believed I was actually insulted. When I said it was time for me to go, he nearly jumped over the table to get closer to me and apologize. The alarm and regret in his demeanor was unexpected.
I laughed softly and stood up, making amends for letting him believe that I was actually that easy to upset. I told him that I'd only managed to cut myself once with a knife while cooking and showed him the resulting scar on my middle finger. He had one that was identical to mine and we compared.
He smiled at me and quickly wound our fingers together. My heart started to race in my chest knowing the end of the maybe-this-is-a-date date was drawing near.
Would he kiss me? What if he didn't? What if he did?
As he led me back through the kitchen towards the front door, I noticed the stacked dirty dishes from tonight on the counter in my peripheral.
I immediately stopped, pulling a surprised looking Edward to a halt beside me. He tried to talk me out of it, but I went to gather the dirty dishes from the table regardless. He had the water running and looked like he was about to start loading the pots and pans into the sink himself.
With a burst of courage, I quickly pressed myself into his side, successfully pushing him away from the sink. The incredulous look on his face was priceless.
"I'll wash, you can dry," I offered.
Edward shook his head at me and chuckled quietly. I smiled the entire time we stood side by side at the sink. It felt... right. It felt like something we should have been doing, and would continue doing, for the rest of our lives together.
After we finished the dishes, I dried my hands on a towel and instead of lingering awkwardly like I really wanted to, I headed for the front door. Edward's eyes seemed to follow me as I pulled my boots on, while he slid on a very manly looking pair of slippers. I had to bite back a giggle at the sight of him in those slippers.
I really want to kiss him now. I was certain he'd never looked cuter.
Instead, I decided to simply hold his hand, again. It was enough, for now. Hand in hand, he walked me to my truck—in his adorable man-slippers.
For some reason, all I could picture was him standing naked in the kitchen, with just those slippers on, chugging orange juice straight out of the carton. Maybe after a night of hot, sweaty sex with me, because he was definitely sporting sex hair. And a hard-on.
Mmmmm.
I shook my head to dispel the image, realizing we had already made it to my truck.
"Edward, I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you," I said, before I made an idiot out of myself and jumped him right there by my hideous truck.
He gave my hand a tender squeeze and said, "You don't have to thank me, Bella. It was my pleasure. I've wanted to ask you for a while."
What? Really? Kiss me? Now!
Utterly unsure of what to say, I settled for what I hoped would be appropriate. "Goodnight."
Edward's lips twitched a little as he took a step closer to me, squeezing my hand in a nervous sort of way, as if to ask if this was alright.
My internal chatter was on loop, practically screaming in my head, Oh. My. God. Please? Yes!
He moved closer and I tried to wait patiently. For all I knew, he was going to tell me I had dirt on my nose or something and he was just taking a closer look. I forced myself not to leap at him with vigor to attack his mouth with mine, though that is really what I wanted to do.
Finally, it seemed inevitable. He was going to kiss me.
Oh, yes, finally. Please! Thank you! Harder! Wait, those aren't my lips.
Then he was gone and I was left blinking, struggling to figure out what just happened.
I thought he was going to kiss me... then he... didn't.
"Goodnight Bella," he said softly, making me shiver with the texture of his rich, deep voice.
He didn't kiss me.
I stood there, frozen, as he walked back up to the house. Had I discouraged him somehow? He seemed like he was definitely going to kiss me. Was my breath really atrocious? I had just eaten garlic, but so had he! I would kiss his mouth, garlicky or not.
Maybe he's just not that into you.
A kiss on the cheek was better than nothing though. A kiss on the cheek is... gentlemanly. Chivalrous, courteous, polite. A kiss on the cheek is very first-date for Edward.
I stumbled over to my truck, hoping beyond all hope that maybe Edward was just too mannerly to kiss me on the mouth on our first date. I told myself that I just had to be patient. I could wait for him.
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