Chapter Eighteen

~It's Darkest Before the Dawn~

EPOV

"Dammit, Isabella! Would you be quiet? They'll hear you!" I'm whisper-shouting at her and then poking my head outside the cabana to see if Alec and his assholes are any closer. I still don't see them, but I sure as hell hear them. They sound like they're messing around on the boardwalk. I've gotta get her out of here. "Let's go, come on!"

"Puuushy, puuushy, Mr. Pushy, jeez! Hang on. I can't leave without my puuuurse!"

As she leans over to grab it, I watch her face-plant into the corner of the end table and ricochet onto the Berber area rug.

She follows her graceful maneuver with muffled, epic laughter.

I watch her start to sit up, but she pauses, her body swaying slightly. She almost falls back down again. "Shit. Edwaaaaard. I think I'm bleeeeeeding," she croons, holding up a few fingers that are drizzled in bright, red blood.

"Good God," I rush over and help her up off the floor. She's giggling uncontrollably now. If I weren't so concerned about getting her out of here safe, the hazard that she is, I'd probably start laughing with her. Her laugh has always been infectious.

"Am I gonna be okay, doctor? Give it to me straight." She hiccups right in my face and keeps laughing.

Too bad I'm not the one in med school. Jazz would be helpful at a time like this. He's in Texas, though, introducing Alice to his family. I know he's ready to buy a ring.

Ugh. Not the point, though. Right now, I think this girl just needs some ice for the swelling and a bed to sleep off whatever crap is in her system.

"It looks like you split your lip, maybe from slamming your face into the table. Let me get you upstairs and I'll take care of it." I lift her into my arms as she wraps her own arms around my neck and tucks her head into my chest. I walk as quickly as possible out the door of the cabana and across the pool deck to the elevator doors. It's drizzling a bit tonight, so there's no one around the pool to gawk at us. I hear the goon squad rounding the corner as I step into the elevator which, thankfully, is without spectators...but the ride is slow as molasses dripping in January.

"Ooooooh, I bet you will." She's whispering seductively in my ear. "Please, take care of me Edward." Her hot, sweet breath, laced with the distinct smell of tequila, is sending chills down my neck. "I loved it when you used to take care of me. *HICCUP* Remember when you used to take care of me, Edwaaaard? I used to take care of you, too. Remember?"

Fingers in my hair. RED ALERT: FINGERS IN MY HAIR! Little minx. I bet she remembers I lose all damn control when she pulls her fingers through the soft ends of the hair on the back of my neck and gently grazes me with her fingernails.

"Those were good days, weren't they?" She sighs, "I don't have days like that anymore. I miss our good days."

She's trying to kill me right now. I've tried like hell to avoid her like the plague this summer, and even though I've been fairly successful at ignoring her bitchiness and snide comments, it still doesn't mean that I'm willing to stand by and let those assholes hurt her. Our five-week romance from a couple of years ago left such an impression on my heart. I've missed her in ways that I never thought possible.

Even with the few girls I've dated, the shameless summer hook-ups and college one-nighters I've allowed myself since then…nobody holds a candle to Isabella.

Being around her nowadays, seeing her attitude and being on the receiving end of her rolling eyes, I often wonder if the girl I was with for that short summer romance was the actual Isabella. Or was it just a show? Is the snobby, spoiled brat that she became almost immediately after she broke up with me the real deal? I wish I knew the answer. I'm sure my actions didn't help any.

"They weren't giving me Shirrrrrelly Temmmmmples, Edward." *HICCUP* her voice lowers to a whisper and she suddenly sounds pained. "I kept asking for my favorite drink, but they kept bringing me other stuff. I missed my Shirrrrelly Temmmmples. I missed my pink bubbles and the extra cherries. Do you miss my cherries, Edwaaaaard?"

I no longer smell her hot, tequila breath on my face. Instead, I'm surrounded by a familiar coconut smell.

And something tickling my nose, my very cold nose.

Morning wood is straining painfully within my jeans...always a good time.

Wait. Why the hell am I sleeping in jeans?

And holy shit my back is fucking KILLING me right now.

Another tickle to my nose.

I try to scratch away the bothersome itch and realize it's a hair, many strands of hair, in fact.

Another whiff of coconut and I realize where I am and who I'm with.

I open my eyes and take in the darkness...and the cold...and relish in the sensation of the incredible body squeezed against mine.

Bella and I must've managed to migrate slightly in the night. I'm sure she's freezing and trying to stay warm, I know I am. I detect her curled up, facing me, with her head tucked into my chest and sorta burrowing down into the blanket. My left arm is extended and she's buried herself in the nook of my arm that happily encircles her.

God in heaven, this feels fantastic, to be huddled up next to her in the blackness.

This feels natural.

This feels right.

But…fuuuuuuck.

I roll from my side onto my back and figure that sleeping on minimally-padded concrete may have aged my body about 30 years. Ugh. This sucks.

Rolling backwards also allows a gust of cold air to penetrate the warm bubble Bella and I had created in our blanket cocoon.

I don't hear any voices or footsteps upstairs, nor do I hear the banging of pots and pans from the kitchen, which is right above the wine cellar. It must still be before 8:00.

Faced with a serious dilemma, I realize I can do one of two things, here. I can roll back onto my side and allow Bella to tuck into me again, thereby not only reconstructing our nest of heat but also continuing to dream about what she and I used to be, or I can get up and start doing the inventory that I blew off last night.

Of course, the inventory would require the lights to be turned on…and I really don't want to wake Bella yet.

Not after staying up talking until the wee hours of the morning.

And that kiss?

Goddamn, that kiss was hot as hell. I've kissed Victoria all week long, and not one of those lip-locks has even approximated the desire I felt stirring inside me last night while making out with Bella. It's a good thing she pulled back first, cause I swear to the good Lord that I was ready to yank her onto my lap and show her just how much I've missed her being in my arms all these years. It took everything in me not to attack her again and again throughout our talk and show her just how crazy I'm feeling with her reappearance in my life.

Our history is so damn convoluted. I've been telling myself for years how awful a person Bella was. It helped me sleep better at night after walking away from the Flanders. It soothed my bruised ego and wrecked heart for the rejection I felt and the crap that came with it.

I always wanted to believe that the glimpse she gave me in the beginning of our relationship would eventually outshine that default bratty exterior, that maybe she'd stand up to her mother and her parents' friends... and even a few of the bitchy friends she associated with. Mr. Swan seemed indifferent to me, and to Bella and me as a couple, but it was her mom and her hellacious country club posse that was the driving force behind our break-up. I'm convinced of it.

We were both so torn up for the next few weeks after our forced split. It stung like a bitch to see her every day and not be close to her, to only wait on her and her parents, bringing them drinks, towels, etc.

That's why I did what I did. Misguided as I probably was, I tried to make it a bit easier for her to walk away from me, from us. It made me sick to my stomach to do it. I can't begin to imagine what it made her feel like to see it with her own eyes.

And for as strong a person as she is, to have endured what's happened to her these last several years since the accident, I know she's still fragile inside. She was hanging onto my every word last night. That's why I had to end the conversation where I did. I wasn't ready to break her heart all over again. Not yet. I still have to find a way to navigate this course as gingerly as possible.

I try and calm my brain, which seems to have been running non-stop since I opened my eyes. I opt for warmth, but instead of rolling back toward Bella, and possibly impaling her with my hardened dick which doesn't seem to wanna go away, I just drag the blanket up to my nose and close my eyes again, searching for a few extra moments of sleep before the reality of the day douses me with a bucket of frigid ice water.

"Are you awake?" Her voice rises from the shadows.

"Oh! Oh yeah, I am. I didn't realize you were, though. Sorry if I woke you."

"No, you didn't technically wake me. The gust of cold air when you rolled away alerted me that you weren't dreaming anymore. Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

I laugh through my nose.

"Yeah, I know. Several people have told me over the years." Please God, don't let me have spilled my guts while unconscious.

"Well, you sounded awfully aggravated. Mumbling about lack of medical training and slow-ass elevators. It was pretty funny. I think my snickering woke you, because that's when you started to stir."

Jesus. Even my sleeping self can't keep his thoughts on lockdown. Why not throw it all on the line, moron? Things couldn't get any worse, could they?

Scratch that…yes, yes they probably could. Given the events of the last month, I don't discount anything, anymore.

"Yeah well, maybe I have subconscious desires about being in the healthcare field or pursuing the art of elevator repair, I dunno."

Cue epic eye roll. Thank God we're still in the dark and I can't see her reaction to my implausible dream interpretation.

"My back is killing me right now. How do you feel?" I'm hopeful my suave attempt at switching gears will get us off my nocturnal ramblings.

"Um, my neck is a little stiff. I ended up taking one of the sweatshirts you gave me as a pillow and stuck my legs through the arm holes to keep them warm."

"Oh man, I'm so sorry. You must be an icicle. I forgot that you were wearing those shorts. Here, do you have enough blanket?" I stretch my arm across her petite body, dragging the blanket to make sure she is tucked in tight.

"I do. Thanks. Sleeping next to you was like sleeping next to a heater. The warmth you gave off helped a lot."

"Yeah, I always get pretty warm when I sleep. Being in the sweatshirt, t-shirt and jeans last night made me feel like I was in an oven. I normally don't sleep with any—," I stop short of confessing to Bella that I sleep in next to nothing. Boxers and that's it…otherwise I'll roast. Bella, however, doesn't need to know this. It would land us right back in Awkwardville.

"Is it weird that James didn't come looking for you last night? I was wondering that as I fell asleep."

"No, he spent the night at our parents', getting ready for the big family reunion we're catering in Fairmont Park in Philly today."

"Oh, well I'm sure Tori's worried about you not coming home last night. Sorry if sleeping next to me gets you into hot water. I mean, with having to tell Tori and stuff. I'm sure she doesn't want to hear that you slept next to one of your waitresses on the floor of your wine cellar last night."

"Personally, I don't know that she'd care. Tori's a bit… preoccupied right now."

"Oh. With the engagement party, you mean? I'm sure she's very busy with the plans."

"No, it's not that. She just…ehh, forget it." I start telling Bella what's on my mind, but I fear it will lead us back to places we're not ready to venture.

"What? I mean…I know you and I haven't been close since I came into town…and we've only recently started talking in full sentences to each other. But, I can be a good listener…I mean, if you want one...if you need one."

Thankfully, the darkness of the cellar helps mask the hesitation I'm sure is evident on my face.

I know we're trying to take the weirdness out of that kiss from last night and move on. Maybe I should let her be my friend…ugh. Could this get any more complicated? Tori, Bella, Tori, Bella. I feel like I'm on the fucking Tilt-a-Whirl at Wonderland. My whole life has flipped upside down on its nose in the past week.

Right now, I could really use an ear to bend. If Kate were here with me at this moment, I'd do the same thing…well, minus the kissing.

Against my better judgment, I decide to take a leap of faith and vent to Bella.

"Tori basically told me that she wants to stay on the west coast. She's been very successful in her job, and I'm happy for her, but she's considering opening a salon out in California…rather than here on LBI, like we'd planned. I mean, nothing's written in stone…she just caught me off guard the other night when she mentioned it."

"You mean, after all the work you've put into making your businesses a success out here, she wants you to just leave it behind? James told me everything you guys have done to make a name for yourselves. Jeez. Are you even gonna consider leaving Jersey? I mean, yeah, I'm sure you could open a restaurant and bar out west…but, yikes."

"I could, but that's not the point. We had plans to stay here, and she's pulling the rug out from under me, from us really. Not to mention the fact that James and I sunk ALL our money into this pub and hotel and the catering AND the B&B, which hasn't even opened yet!

"He'd fuckin' have my head if I walked out on him. Sorry…didn't mean to go off just then. I just…I don't feel…I…I don't know. Ignore me. Sleep deprivation, cold temperatures and back pain have made me delirious. Forget my stream of consciousness."

"Oh— okay. I mean, your thoughts seem pretty legit to me. But, you and Tori want the best for each other; I'm sure it'll all work out."

"Yeah. Hope so."

"Hmmmm…vuvuvuvuvuvuvuv." Bella's teeth start chattering as she rolls closer toward me uttering jibberish, but really just trying to bury her face deeper into the blanket.

Just then, I hear the faint sounds of talking above us and can detect footsteps and movement in the kitchen.

I pull myself up from the floor and re-tuck Bella into the covers. After switching on the light, I find a broom standing in the corner and start smacking the edge of the pole against the ceiling.

The upstairs goes silent, so I take that opportunity to shout up to them, "Hey, down here guys!" as I continue to smack the broom on the ceiling a few more times.

"I think we're about to be rescued, Chilly Willy." I turn back to the Bella cocoon on the floor.

"Thhhhhank g-g-g-goodnessssss," I hear her stutter from under the blanket.

A minute later, I hear rustling outside the door, the lock turning and the door swings open.

"What the—…E? Jesus, you alright?" Craig, my head chef, is staring at me in disbelief. His gaze is drawn to the movement under the blanket and his eyes get impossibly wider.

"How…who is that?" He points, whispering to me, worried that I've had a secret rendezvous, but not wanting to announce it.

"Hey, Craig."

He and I both look toward the lumpy pile which sprouted a voice and see that Bella has lowered the blanket to just below her eyes.

"You two got locked down here last night?" Craig asks, with his eyebrows raised in semi-accusation.

"Yeah, the door slammed shut, and neither of us had our phones. Thank God we found Katie's blanket stash and the sweatshirts that didn't sell last summer. We would've really been in trouble if we didn't have that stuff." I answer with confidence to dispel any assumption of less-than-honorable behavior.

"Well yeah, let's get you the hell outta here," he props open the door with the door stopper. "You've really gotta get this door fixed, E."

"I know, Craig. Thanks for the Monday-morning quarterbacking. I'll get on it, though," I laugh out loud.

Bella stands and peels the upside-down sweatshirt from her superbly delicious, long legs. Help me, Jesus. I side-eye Craig and see that his eyes are bugging out of his head watching Bella's inadvertent strip-tease. He catches my look and straightens his face as I narrow my eyes at his retreating figure. After she slips on her flip-flops, all three of us head for the stairs. Screw inventory. Right now, a hot shower and my warm bed are my top priorities.

I shake hands with Craig and Dave, thanking them for the gallant rescue and making sure they know I'll be back later in the evening to do inventory. Bella's waiting for me, holding the back door open and we walk out to the parking lot together.

"So listen—,"

"Bella, I—,"

We both speak at the same time and then laugh at each other.

"I'm sorry, ladies first."

She smiles and breaths out through her nose. "I just wanted to say 'sorry' first and 'thanks' second. I'm sorry, again, for my clumsiness which trapped us last night." I shake my head with an amused look on my face, knowing she didn't do it on purpose.

"I also just wanted to thank you again for talking to me… for being honest with me about the picture and how we met. I really hope we can talk some more soon. And now that I know we used to be a couple, I know it probably makes you feel sorta weird and awkward…but you're…you're my only source," she bravely admits, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "It's important that you know you're my only hope for more information. I…I just needed you to know how much I need you and your help."

My stomach does a flip hearing her tell me how much she needs me. I know she's only referring to being able to tell her the story of her life as I know it…but for a few seconds, I allow myself to think it means she really needs me in so many other ways, too.

I try to allay her desperation. "No apologies, okay? I'm here. I'm here whenever you need me. I'm not going anywhere."

She gives me a tentative smile and nods her head.

"And one more thing…the um…the kiss? It was beyond wrong to put you in that position…I promise it won't happen again. Can we just…forget it?" She says the words, but I feel like there's a vacancy in her eyes. Does she mean them?

I say the only appropriate thing for the current circumstance we're in.

"Hey…it's forgotten. It takes two to tango and I'm a big boy who was a willing participant. No worries. Now go on home…get some sleep. I'm about to do the same thing," I say, unlocking my car door.

Forgetting that kiss? Not at all likely. But what else can I say? I'm still engaged.

"Yeah. Sounds like a great idea. Have a good day…sleep…well, you know what I mean," she chuckles.

"Yeah, I do. You too, Bella."

My car follows Bella down the boulevard until I have to turn off onto my side street alcove. I honk, and see her hand give a wave out her window in response.

My phone vibrates and then beeps, indicating the arrival of a two-part text message:

The fam & I just arrived Emmett's. You & I need to talk, dude! Put on the coffee, I've got the donuts. We're not waiting till we hit the greens. Way too much at stake. Be there in 20.