Chapter 7 – The Insight

The following weekend

The Masen’s Fake Home

Edward Cullen POV

Aaaah.  Sweet relief.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back a little as my bladder emptied, letting all of the events of the week drain away as well.

I also tried not to let the ever present, constantly growing annoyance with my co-habitant take over my entire existence.

It was getting hard to do, I had to admit, but luckily, my ability to…

“Edward?”

Oh… shit.

My eyes opened, allowing me to stare up at the dark sky, alight with bright stars, which was appropriate since I needed to talk to the big guy anyway.

Why me, God?  Really… just tell me what I did.

Actually, it wasn’t hard to answer that question.

“Edward Masen?”

I stood, statue like.  At first, trying to make like a chameleon in hopes that if I didn’t respond, she would think maybe she was seeing things… It was dark out… maybe she’d fall for it.

I mean what was I supposed to do?  I wasn’t quite finished draining One Eyed Willy yet.  And that shit could get messy if you tried to rush it.

It didn’t work though.  The chameleon thing, that is, if you’re playing along… As I peeked over, I could see her standing there, waiting for a response.  I almost laughed.  Her huge, pastel blue, fluffy robe and matching slippers made her look like an over grown Easter Bunny.

So yeah… there I was, taking a piss on our backyard bushes with Alice Brandon the Easter Bunny, no more than roughly seventy feet away, standing in her back yard, watching me take a piss.

“How’s it goin’?” I called out to her, forcing a grin, trying to make the whole thing as casual as possible.

Still peeing.

“Is your toilet broken, Edward?”

My lips curled downward a little as I shook my head.  “Nope.” 

Come on….

She furrowed her brow, seeming highly concerned.  “Are you locked out of your house?”

Not exactly.  “No,” I told her.  Almost… done.

A hand went to Alice Brandon’s hip at that point. “Well then is there some other logical reason that you’re peeing on your bushes at ten thirty at night?”

Good question, I thought. 

Hell, I’m sure you’re wondering the same thing, too… and really, it’s not a question I can exactly answer with just one or two words, to be completely honest with you.

Actually, I’d probably need to explain the events of the previous week in order for you to fully appreciate the emergency of my current situation.

It all started the day Bella had come home and tore the friendly neighborhood Meer cat a new asshole for inadvertently giving our not-so-friendly live in fake wife the impression that we were… you know… hooking up, for lack of better phrasing.

I had gone back inside after my chat with Emmett McCarty, ready for round two of some seriously barbaric bantering with our bitch of a roommate, Bella Swan except that she had already picked up the phone to call Marcus… so we sat there, together… giving him our update, which I personally thought went smoother than expected.  No snide remarks, no physical abuse… not even so much as a dirty look.

As a matter of fact, it was eerily without any sort of conflict at all.  Which kinda creeped me out.

I watched her tell him about Whitlock, which had made me a little bit in awe of her capabilities as an information gatherer and a little less jealous of her encounter in the front of his house when they had arrived home that day. 

I mean, not that I was jealous.

Because I wasn’t.

Nope.

Totally not jealous.

‘Cause that’s just… you know… stupid.

……

Anyway, she simply had a way with people… People who weren’t me that is.  And had found a way to open him up a little about his previous business adventures.  Not only that… but she told us about how she had observed the way he’d more than once or twice brought up our squeaky clean homeowners association president and explained how his entire mood seemed to change when he talked about her and her love and admiration of the entire neighborhood.

I know!  I said the same thing.

Right?

I laughed when she’d mentioned how we could use that to our advantage and was already starting to work some angles out in my own head, when our fearless leader had given us the most vague instructions… ever… he told us how proud he was that we were seeming to work together better, then… just like that… our call was over.

Any hope I’d felt in having any sort of truce with Bella, however, was squashed like a nematode after our conference call when she stood up from the kitchen table, straightened herself and started to make a bee line for the stairs.

“Ya know I…”

“I’m going to bed,” she told me, cutting me off, yet unable for some reason to look over at me. “We can… re-group tomorrow,” she added. Then she quickly made her way up the stairs before I could respond, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.

Thoughts burst into my head of how to figure out just exactly who I was dealing with from minute to minute with that woman… Dr. Jekyll… or Mrs. I’ll tear your heart out if I so much as look at you.

Which, in its own way… was kinda sexy when you thought about all the naughty things Mrs. I’ll tear your heart out could do in a bedroom… before tearing your heart out, that is.

Hmm.

Regardless, she was giving me whiplash with her mood swings and I was reaching the end of the proverbial rope when it came to keeping up with whether she was flirting, teasing, hating or just plain old putting up with me.

I felt shell shocked most of the time, if I’m being honest.

And I am.

The next day hadn’t gone a whole lot better, despite her promise of re-grouping.

There were a few times I thought maybe she was about to say something, or… start a conversation about something… maybe some of those god awful embarrassing as hell comments I’d made through the two-way the day before, but in the end… I got nothin’. 

I’d even considered bringing some of them up myself, but really, where would that get me? 

One upped, that’s where.

No, and thank you.

And then… out of the blue, she had insisted on grocery shopping for what she called “real food” instead of eating junkie takeout all the time and I simply wasn’t in the mood to go on her clock, so what does she do?  She shops for herself… purchases a label maker, and puts her name on every single thing she puts into the fridge and then warns me that if I eat any of it, I’m a dead man.

Not that I didn’t believe her… but I’d rolled my eyes and proceeded to go shopping for a few essentials on my own time… in between errands with regards to our good friend, Whitlock… and made sure to put all of the high fructose, high calorie infused microwavable items in the fridge… right next to her things… not labeled, might I add.

Because I’m a sharer.

That’s why.

The following day, after a few well thought out insults about my food choices, Bella tried meeting Whitlock for lunch while I made attempt number two at disabling something… anything in his security system, but it was a no go. 

All attempts to electronically screw with his system on our end through Bella’s hacker skills started out promising enough, but eventually they were all scrapped. I was going to try and manually dis-arm some of the cameras located on the outside of his home, but…

And that’s one big but, there… by the way… because aside from the fact that his house was protected like fucking Fort Knox and it was fairly difficult to work around all the angles he’d had things set up to watch… plus and besides…. the HOA President herself was patrolling the neighborhood all… day… long… and had been eyeballing what felt like my every move.

It was just one more thing that reinforced our belief that getting close to Whitlock was going to be our only way to find some dirt on the guy.  Not that I was one to give up all that easily.

AND… that in itself may not have been so discouraging, but the fact that my bathroom had been taken over… again… shortly thereafter, certainly hadn’t made things any less tiresome.

I mean, do I not get dibs on any area of the house?

It was bad enough she had practically dominated the office area with all of her computer… shit… and had completely feminized what really should have been a man cave, with candles… and… air fresheners that emitted au de some fucking flower from Africa or something all over the goddamn place.

“Oh I tried to use the master,” she’d whined when I banged my fist against the bathroom door that night. “It’s just too WEEEEEIIIIIIIRRRRRRD not having a shower door… you understand… right Edward?”

Not.

I was just about to break out the master key bit again… being prepared for what I would encounter this time… when she opened the door suddenly. All of the steam that had filled the bathroom from the shower she’d taken… where she no doubt had used up all the hot water, again… seeped out into the hallway. 

For a moment, time stood still and I watched as she finished wrapping her towel around herself, tucking it into itself.  When her hair was wet like that, and her makeup was gone and all you saw was the very basic Bella Swan… she almost looked… innocent somehow.

The expression on Bella’s face as she took in my… appreciation of her seemed to say one thing, as blush filled her cheeks and I thought, wow… adorable… but then her body language exuded another thing altogether. I was in the middle of a highly disturbing moment when she abruptly broke our gaze and whisked passed me and walked down the hall, locking herself away in the master bedroom again.

I watched her go, unable to stop my mind the entire time from wandering off to who she might really be… what she was doing here, working for Marcus, and why, whether I was being the asshole sarcastic jerk she’d originally met back in Baltimore or the guy who was just trying to survive this job… why she couldn’t manage to just, I don’t know… fucking… smile.

Not your problem dude… stay focused.

Luckily, there were other things invading my thoughts as well, like the fact that we had received a hand delivered invitation to some… monthly…  game night at a woman named Rose Hale’s place.  It was specified that if you’re single, to bring a partner and if you’re married, it was an option to swap partners at the event….

We hadn’t met this person at Alice Brandon’s backyard hoedown, so I wasn’t sure where she fit into the hierarchy of the neighborhood yet. I could tell you this about that… I was in no way, shape, or form playing any fucking games with Bella Swan as my partner… I wasn’t too sure I trusted her to not throttle me if I was to lose for our team.

Whitlock was proving to be a keen adversary with his never ending changing schedule and his evasive maneuvers in conversations… all conversations that excluded Bella, that is… and whenever we attempted to get some quality alone time with him…. Someone always managed to interrupt.

Also, we noted that people had nothing bad to say about the guy, as we attempted to bring his name up in casual conversations. And as far as his employees went… they were about as loyal as you can get in the corporate world.

He treated his people with respect and dignity, affording bonuses twice yearly and gave raises despite what it might to do his bottom line… things unheard of in any business or industry these days.

It all only made me wonder even more… if he was simply covering his tracks with money and bribes under the disguise of bonuses and weekend retreats.

Getting that information had proven to be quite tricky, by the way.

It’s one thing to ask questions of our own neighbors, in what hopefully comes across as a very nonchalant sort of way…. but to ask specific questions about an extremely beloved individual, who people seem to be very protective of on both a personal and professional level?

That takes skill.

A skill yours truly happens to posses, thank you very much.  With the help of some fake IDs and a few makeup artistry tricks I picked up over the years, that is.

If you look the part, people generally don’t pay much attention to you.  It’s really all about the role you play… the attitude… and getting them to avoid eye contact with you at all costs.  Whether that means you’re a bum on the streets or a tax investigator… it really doesn’t matter…

People don’t want you to notice them, so they don’t notice you.

Know what I mean?

Now, granted, I might have used that same disguise to scare the shit out of Bella when I’d gotten home that night, but it was all in fun.  Really.

Certainly not deserving of what she was putting me through the following evening… when not only was I admonished by her about whether or not I’d borrowed an egg of hers to make a fucking omelet, but she had also decided, once again, to use my goddamn bathroom to groom herself.

And I … really … had to take a piss.

“Seriously?”  I asked her through the door.  “Do you have no sense of personal boundaries?”

“I’m simply exercising my rights to privacy, Edward, if you have a problem with that…”

“Don’t make me get ugly, again, Barbara Ann.”

Ba-ba-ba…bah-bah-ber-anne…. A barberannnnnnne…. Tay-ake! My ha-a-annnnnd…

“Go right ahead,” she spat back and quite smugly, I might add.  So I nodded at the door, in a very determined sort of way, and felt up along the top edge of the door jamb for the master key, but…

It wasn’t there.  Which was weird.

Went to a dance, lookin’ for romance…

I looked down the hallway… I knew there had to be more.  Saw Barbara Ann so I thought I’d take a chance, Barbara Ann…   Then I looked back at the door that was separating my nememis and me.  “Fine.  Have it your way, then.”  I stalked down to the next door I came to and felt above it… nothing.

Huh.

“Rockin’ and a rollin’… rockin’ and a rhythm, Barbara Ann… Bah-bah-bah-bah berrannne.”

Dammit… now that song’s gonnn be stuck in my head.

I went to Bella’s master bedroom and figured I’d just piss in her toilet, but, oddly, that door was locked and when I felt along the top of that door, I found nothing again.

“Oh… no she didn’t,” I half laughed, un-amused.

I literally checked every… single… doorway in that house but there were zero master keys left… anywhere.  And not only that, but she’d locked… the door… to every other bathroom in the house.

So not cool.

When I was done with my search, I ran back up the stairs, two at a time, and stopped in front of my bathroom again.  “Really?  You took all the keys?”

I thought I heard a giggle, but she might have just been cackling before she sang out, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Edward.”

“Locked all the bathrooms?  That’s…” I nodded exaggeratedly.  “That’s reaaaaaaally funny… Captain cheats a lot.”

She turned a hair dryer on.  “Sorry!” she yelled.  “Can’t hear you!”

I banged on the door. “I have!  To PISS!”

“Guywhothinkshessosmart says whaaaaaaaaaaat?” she sang louder.

Smart.

Ass.

And oh… touché, Miss Swan…. You’ll be paying for that later…

 She was quite the worthy adversary I had to admit, as I frantically searched for a place to relieve the pocket rocket.

The thought had crossed my mind that maybe I could get away with pissing into a sink somewhere… but the kitchen was really my only option and even I had lines I wouldn’t cross, believe it or not.

That was when I had decided I needed to take a walk out back, which brings me back to the moment when Alice Brandon had busted my ass for taking a leak on the defenseless plant life surrounding our fake home.

I shook my dick a little and tucked him back into the safe confines of fabric and gave her question some thought.   “Isn’t urine supposed to be good for plants or something like that?”

Don’t ask me.  I’m just talking out of my ass at this point.  No pun intended.

“Who told you that?”

“I… think I read it somewhere.”

And… now she’s walking over to our yard.  Awesome.  “Really?  Where?”

“Uh…. Google?”

“Actually,” she says to me, getting a little excited. “You’re not one hundred percent wrong.  A lot of people who are recyclists use their own urine as fertilizer of sorts, but you really are supposed to dilute it first… I mean everyone knows pure urine will burn your plants.”

Really? 

Diluted urine?

“Wow, I… didn’t know that… I must have misunderstood the…”

“It’s a common mistake actually… you’d be amazed how many people read these online articles and only really read half of what the author is saying… not to mention the fact that… that’s gonna smell if you keep doing it that way…” she laughed, waving a hand at me and suddenly I’m wondering exactly how did I get myself into a conversation about fertilizers and urine smells.

Oh yeah… Bella… fucking…  Swan.

“Yeah, I was kinda… I mean I forgot to fertilize earlier so…”

I dragged a hand through hair.

Then I held it out in front of me.

That was just touching my dick…

I threw it behind my back and clasped it together with the other one to avoid any more awkward movements. 

And why was Alice Brandon… still… there?

“I’m… so happy to see you’re such a recycle enthusiast, Edward. I must say, not a lot of people around here are these days.”  She looked off toward the front of the house at something and I wondered if she was referring to Whitlock.

Then I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was standing in my fake backyard, talking to this woman in nothing but my boxers.

When she looked back at me, she seemed to become aware of that fact too.

“Well,” she pulled her blue fluffy robe around her a little more. “I should let you um…”

“Yeah.”

She laughed nervously and hurried back toward her house. “Good night, Edward.”

“Night.” I waved even though she wouldn’t see it and then after a moment, I turned slowly to eye the house angrily.  Then stormed up the steps to the deck and made my way into the kitchen through the sliders I’d left open.

In my rage, I looked around for her to give her a piece of my fucking mind for that bullshit… but she wasn’t anywhere around… and I could still hear the water running.

She was still upstairs.

I couldn’t have asked for a better circumstance.

Like the stealthy con-man I was, I tip toed my way to the refrigerator and pulled out a dozen or so food items of hers and laid them out on the kitchen table, making sure Bella wasn’t storm trooping her way downstairs while I did it.

Then I grabbed some utensils and started digging in.

There were puddings and pastas and lunch meats galore.  Cheeses worth taking a moment to inhale… and next to the beer I’d purchased was a bag of apples… and I took a bite out of each and every one… then slid them back into their designated home for her to find another day.

Tomorrow perhaps.

She had good taste in food, I had to admit.  Somewhat, anyway… I mean, she had made some homemade spaghetti sauce that week… that she hadn’t shared… and some angel hair pasta.  I piled that onto a plate and heated it in the microwave while I tore off some of the Italian bread she had stashed away to go with it.

Then I broke out her Diet Dr. Peppers and filled the largest glass I could find with it, wasting about three cans of the precious commodity.  I was gonna need it when I choked down the Baked Lays she’d bought as her snack time indulgence.

And goddamn if the automatic ice dispenser wouldn’t… fucking… work when I went to use it. I let out a huff of annoyance as I opened the freezer side of the big oversized silver box to get some out manually, and noticed her Ben and Jerry’s fat free Lemonade “ice cream” sitting there.

I rolled my eyes and reached in for some ice cubes… dropped a bunch out of pure clumsiness and went to pick them up off of the floor, knocking my head on the side of the ice box, which caused a few things to topple over. 

I was catching things left and right to try and save them from a fate worse than death, when I saw it.

Behind the fat free lemonade, couldn’t satisfy my ice cream cravings if it tried, sorbet shit….

Le meilleur du meilleur de la.

The piece de resistance.

Le coupe de maitre.

Her real… ice cream.

I realized the sorbet was just a decoy as the lights from Heaven shone down onto the real stuff, and I swear to God, I heard an angel or two singing when my eyes set upon the super sized cylinder of Baskin Robbins, hand packed, definitely not the low fat shit, Rocky Road goodness.

Now to a guy, it was just a tube of cold sugary goodness and we couldn’t generally care less about the flavor.

Most of the time.

But to women… I knew that tub of cold stuff was her saving grace.  Where she went when she was losing her cool and needing chocolate endorphins to calm her nerves.  When no one else understood her or wanted to listen…. Rocky Road would. 

It would hold her and love her and take away all her troubles.

But not this night.

This night, she’d find no comfort in the ice cream that was about to be consumed by her worst nightmare and fellow Rocky Road lover.

I threw the ice cubes into my cup and grabbed the ice cream, then a spoon, and sat it next to the chips on the kitchen table.  Then I got the spaghetti out of the microwave and took a seat, letting all of the food surrounding me sink in to my senses.

It was time.

I heard the shower turn off upstairs and began to dig in to the spaghetti.

And oh my fucking god could she make some sauce.

I hummed and groaned and imagined eating like that every day for the rest of my life as I buttered the bread and made spaghetti sandwiches while downing it all down with my drink.

Her drink that is.

When I was done, I opened the chips.  I knew it was only a matter of time before she was done primping and then she’d be down for some sort of midnight snack or something… and I eyed the Rocky Road.

The chips would have to wait.

I opened the container and dug in with the large spoon I’d chosen and man, I had to give her props on the dessert choice.  I was definitely going to enjoy the motherfuck out of that tub.

 If I had to guess, I’d say I was about half way through the mouthwatering substance when Bella appeared in the kitchen doorway. 

Jaw open, hands on hips, her eyes roamed the counter tops and table I was sitting at.  They were littered with what was now only remnants of the food she’s taken careful time to pick out at the grocery store… flanked with spillage of diet soda and tomato sauce.

It was the epitome of shock and awe as she took in the empty food containers and aluminum cans I’d rid of their liquids.

And then, the moment I’d patiently waited for… she finally saw… me.

And I smiled, taking another huge bite, if I do say so myself, of the chocolate ice cream filled with nuts and marshmallows as those eyes of hers narrowed in on me, ready to bring it on.

“Edward,” she said as calm as calm could be for someone who was about to slit the throat of another someone who’d invaded her private stock of … taken her pride and eaten it mostly in one sitting.

“Yef?”  I replied, trying not to let one ounce of the creamy goodness leak from my mouth.

“Tell me…” she started again, through clenched jaw and angry eyes.  “That is NOT… my ice cream, that you’re making a pig out of yourself with.”

I stopped.  Swallowed.  Then tilted the container and read her name across the label and frowned as I nodded.  Then I looked up at her again.  She was fit to be tied and I was… loving it!

I took one more spoonfull into my mouth before holding it out to her so she could see the inside was nearly drained of anything that would be of use to her.  “Want fum?”

“If you don’t hand what’s left of that ice cream over to me, right… now…”  she told me and I had to laugh.  I mean, she was kinda funny, going all…. Hulk Hogan on me with that line. 

“Oh, you want the ice cream…” I said, taking another scoop into the spoon and then turning it, so it faced her.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she warned and I smiled because … oh yeah… I would.

I pulled the head of the spoon down and then let go, flicking it square into her nose. As it slid down past her lips, she licked it off, giving me the woody of the century in the midst of my amusement.

“You locked me out of the bathrooms, Black Betty. Ya mess with the bull… ya get the horns.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”

She walked over to the fridge and opened it, then took an egg out and I scowled, wondering what in the ever loving…

Oh.

I stood up.  “Okay let’s all just… calm down, we’re even now,” I told her in a light hearted voice.  “You locked me out of the bathrooms, ha ha… I had an awkward conversation with the Stepford neighbor…. And yeah, I ate some of your food, but…”

“But nothing, Edward, this… is war.”

She winged the egg and it cracked against my forehead, allowing the gooey center to slime its way down my face. Once I was over being stunned by the move, I wiped as much of it off as possible while I was figuring out my next move. 

My hands twitched and so did hers.

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Edward,” she said to me with a feline type growl.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, stretching my neck a little in the best dramatic type style I could muster.   “Don’t I?”

It was like High Noon, a la food fight style, and when I grabbed one of the pudding containers, Bella grabbed a hand full of spaghetti sauce.  We circled the kitchen table until one of us… me, finally took the first swing by throwing my weapon of choice at her. 

Bella ducked, but the pudding grazed her cheek and then… she ran for the hills.

“It’s not over!” I screamed, grabbing the bag of what was left of the chips, smashing it so whatever was in there would be ground down to the tiniest of crumbs.  I ran after her and into the living room, where she squealed and looked back at me as she darted between the furniture only long enough to throw the sauce at me, hitting me right in the boxers.  “You’re a horrible shot,” I laughed and then she made to run for the kitchen again but I caught her around the waist.

“I don’t think so,” I told her in no uncertain terms.

I held her there as she screamed and laughed and put her hands over herself for protection while I dumped the bag of chips over her head.

“Stop!  Stop!” she yelled.

“Your squirms are useless!  I will have my revenge!”   I told her, smashing them into her hair to make my point.

“Edward!  Oh my god!”  She twisted as she begged and then I hoisted her up and over my shoulders, tickling her at the thigh, making her scream even more. I was having a grand old time, as I set her down  next to the kitchen island and pulled the sink’s hand device out of its home to squirt her down with tap water.

“You! Are going to pay for that!” she yelled, but I knew I had her.

Until she pulled he squirter out of my hands and started spraying me with it.

I made to run and she followed me, but by then, water was all over the kitchen tile and just as I made it to the entry way that led to the hallway, I slipped.

Fell smack onto my back and then Bella, who couldn’t respond quick enough, tripped over my nearly dead body and fell on top of me.

We roared with hilarity and my ribs ached from either the fall of the laughing. I really didn’t care because the whole of the evening was just way too fucking fun to worry about the mess we’d just made.

I didn’t even wanna look.

That was when I noticed it.

I peeked to see that Bella had the most endearing, playful look on her face/ I let my head fall back against the floor to completely take her in, just so I could take a mental picture of that moment, when she asked me, “What?”

I sighed and I don’t even know why, but just something about it… something in the way her lips curled up like that… it was genuine, I could tell.  And I really liked it.

“You’re…”

“What?” she laughed some more and I felt the familiar tugging within my boxers.  “Do I have pudding in my hair?” she asked as a hand pulled at some of her hair so she could inspect it.

I chuckled.  “No, you…” I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. 

“Edward, what?”

God, I was breathing heavy.  “You’re smiling,” I said and she seemed to not understand the words I was saying as she giggled a little more.

I wiped the chocolate pudding she’d referred to off of her face and the smile began to diminish as she watched my eyes cautiously. 

The free hand that had been nowhere in particular seemed to find its own way to Bella’s hip and I grabbed at her flimsy night gown, wanting to pull it off of her all together.

She took in some air, unexpectedly, which caused her breasts to push up against me and her hips to move just slightly,  which in turn caused the hard on I was now sporting to become not quite so indistinguishable.

God her nipples were fucking killing me.

“You’re… really quite nice to look at when you’re smiling,” I told her quietly and her lips parted slightly as she began to say something.

Then the door bell rang.

Mother of… “Really?  At eleven o’clock at night?” I asked and then Bella’s demeanor changed.  She seemed to realize where she was and what she was doing and gave me one last glance as she pushed herself up and off of me.  “I’m so sorry about that I’m… I can be really clumsy when I’m not thinking about…”

I reached for her but she was out of my reach already. “No, it’s…”

Ding.

Dong.

Mother….

Fuckers.

“I’ll get it,” she said and before I could stop her, she’d opened the damn door.

I stood up when I saw who it was, then took a spot behind Bella.  “Emmett?”

“And me,” sang a small voice from behind him, and then Alice Brandon was standing next to Emmett McCarty, who was taking in mine and Bella’s attire… and food spammage.  Alice looked completely horrified.  “More fertilizing Edward?”

Bella asked, “Fertilizing?”

Emmett cut that conversation off.  “Uh… everything okay over here?  Alice woke me up because she heard screaming.”

He was staring at Bella, looking like he was about to laugh, as she reached for an imaginary robe to pull around herself.  She actually seemed a little uncomfortable, so I instinctively put a hand on her shoulder, gently, and took a step to stand in front of her.  “Everything’s fine we just…”

“We were having a…” Bella started, trying to think of something also, but in all honesty, we both had nothin’.

We were flailing helplessly in a sea of demise when suddenly, I shouted, “Sex games!” 

 It was the only thing I could think of considering my conversation with Emmett and the impression they’d all had of us from the cookout. 

I don’t know… it was late.

“Sex… games?” Alice stuttered and I nodded.

“Yyyyep, we uh… like to keep it fresh.”

Bella’s staring at me, dumbfounded, I just know it at this point, but I would deal with her wrath once we got these two out of our foyer.

Emmett’s chuckling and Alice is horrified, but it did the trick. “Well, we’ll just let you two get back to your evening then. Come on, Alice.” 

“Sure thing,” I told them, closing the door as Emmett winked at me, calling me a sly dog. I rested my head against the door after I shut it, simply glad to be rid of them, but I also knew Bella would be pissed over my blatant disrespect of her virtue, so I sucked it up and turned to face her.

She was…

Laughing.

Silently.

With a hand over her mouth and her shoulders bobbing and I couldn’t help but begin to chuckle again, myself.

“Sex games?” she asked.  “What sex games involve raw eggs and potato chip crumbs, Edward?”

More laughing and I’m bent over now, imagining Alice Brandon’s face again when I’d said it.  “I have no clue, but I’ll bet ya ten bucks people are trying it out by the end of the week.”

Tears fell from the corners of Bella’s eyes and I had the sense that it had been a long time since she’d done this.  Just… let loose and cackled like a crazy person. 

Then she rubbed at her face with both hands and looked at them.  “Oh my god.  This place is a mess, I’m a mess… look at you!”  She laughed some more and I decided yes, I really liked this Bella much more than the old one.

I had several ideas fly through my mind when she’d made that observation, too.

Like conserving water by taking a shower together.

Or maybe giving her a sponge bath.

Possibly even…

“I think… I’m going to just…” she thumbed over her shoulder.  “Go take another hot shower and get some sleep… we have a big day tomorrow.”

She wasn’t inviting me along… that wasn’t a good sign. 

Wait.  Big day?  Did I miss something?

“We do?”

“Yeah,” she smiled up at me.  “Game… night?” she made this mock excited look with her eye and I nodded. 

“Well, I’ll clean up down here…”

“Oh no, let me help…”

“No no,” I held a hand up. “After all, I started it.”  Sort of.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I told her and she seemed somehow touched by my offer, the way her forehead scrunched all… cute and what not and she half smiled for a second or two… then she simply said a soft goodnight and slowly made her way up the stairs.

Which I watched with awe and wonder… even if she was covered in Rocky Road ice cream and chocolate pudding.

As I cleaned up our disaster area, I tried to stay focused.  Tried to remind myself to stay on track with my plans, but I just kept thinking about that smile of hers  and how it felt throwing her over my shoulder when we were playing around like that… or holding her in my arms as we lay there on the hallway floor after our food fight was over…

And how it was going to be a lot harder to think about only me throughout the course of this job.

Because despite all her walls and charades and smart ass comments, Bella Swan showed me a side of her that night that I had a feeling, not a lot of people got to see in our line of work.

How had that happened anyway?

I mean, one minute, I hate her guts, just like any other day and the next she’s… this… fun person to be around?

I couldn’t look at her as the enemy anymore.  Not now that I knew she wasn’t a bottomless pit of soulless activity, after all.

This was dangerous territory, where Bella and I had the opportunity to possibly wander into.  I had to weigh the pros and cons carefully… decide if it was going to be worth it.   Whether or not I thought that maybe this was just a ruse to throw me off guard.

Because once you started letting people in… putting others ahead of yourself in this business, you start getting handed the shortest end of the stick.   Which usually included a few booby traps of its own, if you get my drift.

And I just couldn’t have that.

Not again.