~After Hours~
BPOV
The next twelve days come and go in a dreamy haze. Edward stays with me every single night, except for the two nights when has to receive the delivery truck very early the following morning at the restaurant.
When he's here, we're never more than a few feet away from each other. We just can't get enough. I hope that's normal...and I also hope this feeling never ends, but only intensifies with time.
One night, Charlotte and James come over for dinner at my house. There's absolutely no awkwardness whatsoever, thank goodness. Charlotte is very sweet and it's plain to see just how much she cares for James. Something I know Edward is thankful for and something that James richly deserves.
When I'm not working, I read my journal. It's engrossing and frustrating all at the same time. It's so hard to understand what was truly driving me to stay together with Alec when I clearly didn't care about him...at least, nowhere near the level of attachment I had toward Edward that first summer.
I skimmed a bit before going back to read thoroughly and found that I only wrote every couple of weeks for the next few years. It's odd. When I was with Edward, I was writing in my journal at least once and sometimes even twice a day. Once we broke up, it seems I rarely ever picked it up. The journal was a mirror of the feelings I was dealing with on a daily basis. I guess when you're happy, you're thrilled to be reporting the good things, the happy things, no matter how small or insignificant. When you're truly falling in love, even the tiniest detail (what we ate, the clothes we wore, a song on the radio while we kissed) is worth mentioning.
Once Edward and I were over, it probably hurt my heart too much to address any of that pain by writing it down on paper. Just easier to check in on a rare occasion, I suppose. I joined the swim team and was quite good, apparently. Always winning medals and putting Moorestown High in first place. Alec asked me to go to his homecoming dance that fall of his senior year and I wore a black strapless dress. I wonder if I have pictures somewhere to go along with these memories. I also attended his senior prom the following spring and then we spent the weekend in the Hamptons.
What could my parents have possibly been thinking, letting their fifteen year-old daughter shack up with an eighteen year-old horny boy, UNSUPERVISED, for a whole damn weekend? No other couples our age, certainly no adults, just a ton of alcohol and nothing but time. I dare my future daughter to ask me to spend the weekend with her boyfriend when she's fifteen, I will laugh in her face! Maybe not be totally callous about it, but come on! Show some parenting skills!
I continued to suspect my mother was having an affair with Royce, though I never had any proof. Even well into our second summer. It was just too convenient that, on the weekends that Alec's dad didn't come down to Ocean City, my mom happened to schedule a spa weekend in the Poconos or a shopping trip in New York City. My journal revealed that I even questioned Alec about it at one point and he just shrugged me off, retorting I was crazy.
That entire second summer in Ocean City, I think I only saw five journal entries recorded, and every one of them portrayed me as a girl who was more and more hardened, bitter, definitely holier than thou, like nobody could say or do anything right. Bottom line: I was a bitch. Just like those girls said I was. Just like Edward said I was (when he first saw me again). I even went as far as to no longer mention Edward by name in my entries. I actually called him the cabana boy. One entry in particular was so disturbing, I had to close the journal and walk away from it for the rest of that day.
August 12, 2004
My parents are going away for a long weekend on the Kings' boat sailing down to Annapolis Harbor. They asked Anna to check in with me every day, but basically, I'm on my own. I'm almost sixteen, so I'm not worried. Plus Alec will be here with me. Maybe we can do something more than just sit on our asses in this lame town.
These two months have been totally dragging. I'm so over being down here surrounded by the same assholes every day. Ocean City is so yesterday. The money is in Stone Harbor and Avalon. I try and get down there whenever I can so I don't need to be around the same old riff-raff constantly.
Courtney is annoying the hell out of me. Angela and Brooke don't have two brain cells to rub together between them. I only tolerate the sisters because Brooke has a driver's license and can get us to the functions down there. It's strictly A-list parties, connections I have from Moorestown through a couple of girls I consider only remotely acceptable in a school setting, but at least they know how to throw classy parties with the best drinks and hottest guys around. I don't want to show up with the B-list guests, but they're my only ride until I can drive myself next summer. So I'll continue to suck it up.
I've brought Alec to a couple of the parties, but it's like bringing sand to a beach. Why bother when there are so many other guys to look at? Not that I do anything with them. I flirt. They flirt back. They ask for my number and I roll my eyes at them and tell them I'm not interested. They're not worth my time. I refuse to get my heart twisted up over anyone. Alec is here, and he's fine for now, until I'm ready to move on. He's got enough money to keep me happy. I ask for stuff, he gets it for me.
I did something kind of evil yesterday. I called the pavilion and told the cabana boy I wanted condoms from the gift shop. He told me he wasn't in charge of healthcare products, the little shit. He changed his tune a few minutes after I called Sam screaming about his servant telling me what he would and wouldn't do. A few minutes later, the CB actually had to call me back asking if I wanted 'ribbed for her pleasure', 'lambskin' or 'magnums'. It was fucking hilarious. I could hear how embarrassed and uncomfortable he felt. Serves him fucking right for kissing and screwing that girl last summer. I don't forgive and I sure as hell am not going to forget.
Anyway, I told him to bring one of each, because we'd probably need them all before the weekend was over. He showed up ten minutes later, stopping short in the doorway when he saw my tits in Alec's hand and mouth. Alec was drunk as a skunk, and didn't even know I had called. I wasn't planning on having sex, even if Alec would've been able to. I just wanted CB to have to bring them to me. I wanted to see his face when he handed those boxes to me. To know what I was about to do. To make it eat away at his mind and even his heart if there was any chance he still wanted me.
I know he does. I catch him staring. I'm glad he stares. It makes me feel better to know that he's still thinking about me, but knows he can't have me. Anyway, I smiled obnoxiously, told him it was about time he showed up and then told him to get out.
I'm almost relieved my mom made me break up with him last year. I finally understand what she meant. Some guy who plans to run a bar isn't worth the mud on the bottom of my shoe. I need someone who wears an Armani suit every day and makes more money in an hour than other people only ever dream about earning in a year.
It's what I want. It's what I deserve. And it's what I plan to get.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up after reading that entry. What a despicable teenager I turned into.
I can only assume my shitty attitude about money and power was cultivated and nurtured by my mother. I wish she were alive today, so that I could confront her about her beliefs, stand up for myself right now, explain that none of that matters...at all. She had money and power and she's dead. It's all sitting in a bank account in my name. For all the lying and cheating she supposedly did, and all the money and power she may have gained in her short life, she was dead at forty-three.
You can't take it with you, y'know?
I'll never be that way. I realize it's easy for me to say that now; my bank account padded with enough money to pay off a significant chunk of the national debt, but at least I know I'm doing good and honorable things with my money, or at least I plan to. Once I get all of that money from the auction next month, it's going straight to the charities that Aunt Didi loved. And though I haven't brought it up to Edward yet, I really want to help him with the renovations for his bed and breakfast. I know he feels very passionately about doing all the work by his own hand, but if I give him all the money for the materials, and help him hire the work crew, maybe even hire another bartender to fill in for the time he'd miss by spending it on the remodeling, I think it would help him out greatly.
He and James deserve it. And I'm more than happy to be able to help them out where I can, if he'll allow it.
~~~~~L~A~S~T~C~A~L~L~~~~~
"These girls in the bachelorette party are hilarious. Now they want two pitchers of blue kamikazes and the bride-to-be wants me to ask you if you can do a 'multiple screaming orgasm'," I ask Edward with a laugh and a shake of my head.
"Hop up on the bar, lift your skirt and I'll see what I can do," he smirks in response.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I take in a quick breath, "You're the devil; quit teasing me."
"It's not teasing if you plan to deliver, baby," he replies without blinking, that fucking Adam's apple bobbing up and down with a serious swallow.
I take a moment to collect myself, wet panties and all, and sigh. "Just make my drink. I'll deal with you later," I challenge with a quirk in my eyebrow.
A few hours later, the restaurant is empty and a few stragglers shake Edward's hand as they stand from the bar stools they've occupied for most of my shift.
"Last call, gentlemen...anything else for you fellas tonight?" I address the final table of patrons that remain.
"Aww Bella, you're too sweet to usshhh." Mr. Eckard has clearly had too much.
"Jerry, I think you've had enough. We're outta here, Bells. Tell E we said g'night."
"Will do, Mr. Anton. I'm not working tomorrow, but I'll see you Sunday?" I ask the sweet older man.
"Most definitely. 'Night honey."
I walk the two men to the front door, wish them a safe journey home and lock the deadbolt and latch behind them. Before I step away, I punch in the code for the alarm to know we're safe inside at this late hour, while we do the final clean-up.
I go back over to their table and clear off the empties and the remnants of their chicken fingers and fries platter. In the kitchen, I finish loading the dishes into the machine and start the last cycle so that it's clean for the opening cooks in the morning.
After washing my hands, I chug the rest of my bottle of water, walk back out of the kitchen and hear the jukebox come to life. Strings of a guitar play the familiar chords of a Bad Company song that Edward and I danced to a couple nights ago at Joe Pop's, when we went out with Rosalie and Emmett.
Baby, when I think about you, I think about
lo-ove.
Darlin', don't live without you, and your
lo-ove.
Turning the corner, I see the lights on the floor have been turned off and smile . All that remains lit are the track lighting and accent lights that showcase the shelves of liquor bottles and the hanging glasses.
Edward is leaning against the outside of the bar, his arms stretched out across the freshly polished wood, his right knee bent because he's propped his foot up on the brass foot rail, sexy as fuck half-grin on display, surrounded by his stubbly mustache and jaw, the minute hair follicles stretching down his neck. His black Last Call t-shirt stretches across his sculpted chest, the hem bunched perfectly at his hips, where his washed out jeans grip his ass (and other parts) scrumptiously, just like I'm about to in a few seconds.
Damn.
I slowly walk his way, my mating dance beginning, untying my apron as I go. We study each other as I approach and his tongue peeks out to lick his bottom lip just before his teeth bite down slightly on the moistened area.
Feel like makin'...
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like ma-kin' love to you.
By the time the first chorus ends, I'm in his arms and our lips are tangling, doing a dance of their own. His hands have found their way to my ass and he's squeezing and thrusting our hips together in tandem with the guitar riffs and the drum line.
Our kisses continue to intensify, our breathing heavier in my ears, while my hands make their way up to the back of his neck where I'm tugging on the ends of his hair.
A sexy moan from Edward causes me to bite and suck on his lower lip, trying to keep up with his fervor. His hands have found their way to the button and zipper of my denim skirt and he loosens my tank top from its constraints, pulling it over my head in a quick motion.
This risky public display of affection might have been an outrageous and appalling thought to me in the past, but isn't affecting me in the least right now. We're alone after closing and I'm about to let my boyfriend fuck me.
Yes, fuck.
Hard.
I want it that way.
We've been flirting all night and now it's time to put our money where our mouths are...or will be in a few minutes.
Suddenly, he tugs my skirt and thong down below my hips and roughly maneuvers his fingers between my thighs. He pulls away from kissing me and forces me to stare into his lust-filled eyes. My mouth is open as he rubs up then down on my small patch of hair before he plunges two long fingers into my pussy. Our foreheads are touching and while we watch each other, he opens his mouth to let his tongue dart out and lick my lips, teasing my own tongue, which wants to come out to play as well.
A few swirls of our tongues later, and we look down to where he's fingering me. My juices have dripped all the way to the base of his two fingers, onto his palm. He wipes his thumb across the wetness and starts flicking and plucking at my clit.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" My staccato mewls might soon turn into a full-blown song while he continues to thrust and rub my g-spot with the pressure it needs to achieve that screaming orgasm he promised me earlier tonight.
He moves his hot mouth to my ear and whispers, "Come on, baby. Give it to me."
That, coupled with a wet lick and then a sucking bite under my ear pulls a cry out of me that practically rattles the glasses hanging above us on the rack.
My hands keep a death-grip on Edward's hair while I ride out my orgasm, my legs quaking a bit while I struggle to try and remain upright.
Edward's gaze comes back to meet mine as he pulls his fingers from inside me and forces them into my mouth for a lick.
It's a tangy, sweet and sweaty combination. And a few more juices escape because I'm so damn turned on that I'm sucking my own orgasm off Edward's talented digits.
Cue even more wetness dripping, because as soon as he pulls out of my mouth, he pushes those same drenched fingers into his mouth. I watch his eyes roll into the back of his head and I take that opportunity to undo his button and zipper, ready and willing to return the favor and more.
Feel like makin...
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like makin' love.
Feel like makin' love to you.
"Turn around."
It's not a request. He places his hands on my hips and spins me to face away from him. He gathers my hair to one side and pushes it over the front of my shoulder, biting down where my neck meets my upper back. Continuing to suck and tease my shoulders, he unclasps my bra. Without pulling it down my arms to finish the job, his hands come around to grasp my breasts. He's pulling and tweaking and I'm gasping for breath, rolling my head back into his shoulders, squeezing my eyes shut as he continues to assault my overly sensitive nipples.
His hot breath and wet, open-mouthed kisses and bites make goose-bumps erupt all over my body.
With Edward's movements and thrusts against me, indicating just how turned on, rock hard and ready he is, my skirt has fallen completely to the floor. I kick out of it to free my legs, lest I fall over from shaky leg syndrome due to another mind-blowing orgasm.
The song has ended, though the silence only remains for a moment as the haunting sounds of monks singing in a concert hall take over, Enigma's "Sadness: Part One" now flooding the speakers.
"Kneel one leg on the stool, bend forward with your elbows on the bar," he commands, starting to pull up my thigh to demonstrate exactly where he wants me.
I comply, my head twisted over my shoulder to see what this man has planned next and I watch him drop to his knees.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
"Haaaaaaahhhh!" I cannot control my outburst as his mouth dives onto my pussy. I can feel his thumbs pulling my lips apart from behind as he takes his time with his tongue and in one long stroke, licks me from my clit up to my sodden entrance. He's sucking on every part of my anatomy down there. His tongue is conducting some kind of cardio workout of its own, never ceasing its motion, just alternating between fast and slow movements...all resulting in me hurtling toward the ultimate goal, the "multiple screaming orgasm".
Fuck the drink; I'll take the real thing any day.
My arms are crossed on the bar, my head resting on them while I do my very best to not pass out. I'd hate to miss the culmination of all his hard work. While his one hand continues to pull and roll my nipple in synch with each dart of his tongue inside my flooded core, I feel him slide a single finger inside me and twirl it around like he he's stirring a damn drink.
My eyes start rolling in time with the circuit I feel him making inside my slick walls.
Sweet agony. I don't think I'm gonna last too much longer!
"Holyshitholyshitholyshit!" I'm grabbing onto the bar, white-knuckled, because the leg I'm standing on is worthless and I'm precariously balanced with one knee, now made of Jell-O, on this wobbling stool.
Edward's tongue has yet to relent, although, mercifully, he has stopped flicking my clit.
I ride out my orgasm without any further obscenities and my boyfriend slows his movements. I seriously don't know how he didn't drown down there.
He places a trail of kisses from my ass all the way up my spine till he reaches my neck. He eases my leg off the stool and gently unfolds it, standing me upright. He doesn't seem to trust the stability of my legs either, because he wraps his arms tightly around my waist as my breathing slows to within normal limits.
"More?" he gruffly questions between kisses while the monks still chant in the distance.
I whimper, sounding rather pathetic, but don't turn him down as I bend my arms over my shoulders to tug on his hair. He chuckles into my neck, placing one last kiss before scooping me up in his arms and laying me out on the fucking mahogany bar.
I am naked and dripping where we serve drinks on a daily basis. I pray the Health Code Inspector never hears about this one.
"Edward...are you sure—" he cuts me off with his index finger to my lips and a shake of his head.
"No talking, Bella," he murmurs, his face hovering above mine. I swallow hard as he removes his finger and replaces it with his lips.
My chin, cheeks and lips are being positively bathed in my arousal, which drenched his two days' worth of facial hair growth, resulting in a slight mustache and scruffy jaw. Every time his tongue plunges into my mouth, I taste more of myself on him and I can't get enough.
I smell me, I taste me...I don't know why I think it's so fucking sexy, but I absolutely do.
I reach up and fist what little hair I can grasp at the back of his head, and allow my fingers to loosen and scratch at his scalp knowing how much that turns him on. I successfully elicit a groan while our mouths are sharing breath and I feel his hand travel down my stomach and back to my pussy.
Jesus Christmas...I don't think I'm gonna survive the night.
EPOV
Okay, show time. I've done a great job making my gorgeous girl come twice in the last ten minutes, but I'm hoping to rock her fucking world right now.
I've heard the guys in the kitchen talk about this stuff, but I seriously thought it was an urban legend. So, on the nights I didn't spend with Bella this week, I came home and Googled some stuff and even found a damn 'how-to' video.
We'll see if this internet guy knows what he's talking about.
I continue to kiss and tease Bella's mouth. I'm sucking on her lips, then I pull away just to stare in her eyes, while my right hand travels down to the apex of her thighs, rubbing the existing lubrication all over her pussy lips, gently palming her clit, and dragging my thumb through the little sculpted landing strip of hair.
When I believe she's teetering on the edge of coming again, just by messing with her clit alone, I slip my middle and ring fingers inside to find her g-spot and start tapping. I have no idea what I'm doing. I only watched the fucking video and never tried this on any other girl, although I've heard the myths about it for years.
Still kissing her and licking her neck, I feel the chills continue to pop up and recede all over her body. Her heavy breathing and whimpers are coaxing me along. I hope I'm on the right track. I so want to do this for her AND for me, if I'm being totally honest here.
Fuck yes; I wanna see my girl gush.
Next step is the rubbing. Inside, my fingers massage in a 'come hither' motion for several more strokes until I shift to phase three. I curl both fingers up inside her, locked on and repeatedly and rapidly pressing into that one spongy, g-spot area.
Damn, this guy wasn't kidding, my arm is getting tired. Just as I start to lose hope of unlocking this mystery, Bella starts moaning uncontrollably, crying out, and almost hyperventilating.
I pull my lips away from her neck and stand up straighter to watch what my hand is doing when I see this small burst of fluid shooting straight up from where my hand is latched.
One, two, THREE little spurts! It's like watching footage of a mini-Old Faithful! My mouth drops open and my eyes bug out, I can't believe it! I fucking did it! She's doing it! I wonder if my fifth grade science teacher Mr. Banner would be proud of me now. Never did get that damn volcano to shoot out lava back then. He gave me a 'B' for trying. HA! You can keep your 'B' now, dude! I'm looking at something that resembles Kilauea.
"Holy fuuuuck," I groan, turning my head from watching her pussy with rapt attention back to her face. Bella looks completely mortified and picks her head up to look down to where my hand is working its magic.
"Ahhh...hhhoooooooomygod," she whines and then covers her eyes, while I slow down my movements, take my fingers out and just continue rubbing between her legs, but not penetrating.
I lean down to capture her lips with mine. "You are fucking sexy as hell, you know that?" I moan softly in her ear before plunging my tongue back into her mouth, conveying my love. "C'mere." I pull her upper body from where she's stretched out before me and lift her off the bar.
She wraps her legs around my waist and I stumble the ten feet over to my office door. Bella's lips have moved to my neck and she's sucking and nibbling at my scruff. I can feel her yanking my shirt up and diving her hands underneath, scratching their way up my back.
Her feet are also trying to dig their way into the back of my jeans, attempting to draw them down my legs. "Hang onto me, baby," I whisper as I take one of my hands from below her ass and wrestle my jeans and boxers down toward my knees.
I line my dick up with her soaked entrance and she comes back to attack my lips.
"Bella—"
"Do it. I'm on the shot, just do it...I trust you," she sighs impatiently. I don't wait for any further confirmation and I slam my cock up inside of her causing us both to groan out in pleasure.
We're against the office door, banging away.
Her pussy grips me like a fucking suction cup. She's wet and hot and still pulsing from her squirting episode.
I thrust hard, over and over, setting up a faster pace than we normally use. Our grunts of mutual passion, coupled with her heels digging into my ass, only serve to encourage me to keep going until we can't see straight anymore.
"Fuck Bella, you feel so goddamn incredible."
She smiles and opens her mouth, lunging her lips forward to try to devour my tongue and lips, clearly turned on from my dirty talk.
"Yes, baby..." she's purring, "yes, yes!"
Pound, pound, pound...I can't get close enough to her.
"You got another one, love? Tell me you have one more, cause I'm about to come so fu-cking hard..." I'm thrusting faster and harder trying to drive my girl to the same edge I'm approaching.
I dive my face into her neck in the hopes that my hot breath across her flushed skin and ear will have her screaming out my name soon.
And just like that...
"Oh fuck! EDWAAAARRD!" There she is.
"Nnnngh," I grit through my teeth, still not allowing my pounding cock to slow down until my thighs tense up and I come inside her, roaring in fucking ecstasy.
I pick my head up from her neck and lick her lower lip. She smiles and kisses me back and then shakes her head.
"I have never, EVER thought it could feel like this," she gasps out, "I can't believe I get to keep you."
Her words make me smile. Hell yeah, honey, keep me. Keep me forever. I want it that way, too.
I shuffle us over to my couch and fall onto it, her legs still wrapped around me. I can feel her juices and my cum, all of it leaking out onto my thigh but I can't find it in myself to care, I'm so fucking in love with this girl.
I wrap my hands through her hair, cupping her face. "I love you so much, Bella. So much."
She smiles and tightens her hug around my neck. "I love you, too." I hear her hum softly into my neck, "And don't ever, EVER let me catch you giving some other girl a 'multiple screaming orgasm', got it?" she giggles.
This girl.
"Yes, dear," I reply smugly and with a wink. "I think it's safe to say there will be no sharing of that…drink.
She huffs and shakes her head but then sits straight up, looking me dead in the eye.
"Hey, here's a question...did I pee on you out there?" She whines, her same horrified look returning from earlier.
I chuckle and shake my head. "No, baby. Not at all, you ejaculated. Squirted, gushed. There's a whole crop of terms for the same thing, and I always thought it was a load of crap guys tried to sell...y'know, locker room talk, 'you won't believe what I got my girlfriend to do last night' bullshit."
Bella's eyes are scrunched up, still worried about my response.
"Anyway, I knew I wanted to try it out; see if I could get you to that point. So, I did some searching online and actually watched a video," I confess, sheepishly. "Then, watching you spin around the room working so hard, you had a sheen of sweat on your neck and chest all night, batting your eyelashes at me whenever you'd come up to the bar for an order, swishing your hips every time you'd walk away from me with a full tray…you were driving me wild. I knew I had to deliver tonight. So no, you didn't pee...just had one hell of an orgasm!"
"I couldn't understand what was happening. I was terrified that you were disgusted with me!" her fears voiced in a mild, yet panicked way.
"What? God no, Bella. I did all that different stuff to try and get you to gush. Whadjya think of it? Did it… feel good?"
She smiles and widens her eyes.
"Well, I'm certainly not a sexpert, since I've only been at this a couple weeks myself, but yeah, it was beyond intense. And now that I know that you liked that I did it, and tried to make me do it on purpose, I wouldn't be opposed to adding it to our repertoire," she adds clinically, with a sarcastic giggle that forces me to kiss her hard.
"Thanks for the drink, sexy man of mine."
"Oh, it was my great pleasure, m'lady."
"Yeaaaah, somehow, I think it was all mine, actually!"
~~~~~L~A~S~T~C~A~L~L~~~~~
I wake with a start at the obnoxious vibrations of my cell on the nightstand.
I reach over to check whose call I missed: Mom. She probably just wants to remind me what time to show up tonight.
Oh man, am I wiped out. Bella and I literally collapsed onto her bed after our busy Friday night of work and crazy sex.
We had sat on the couch talking quietly in the dimly lit office for a little while, which led to hugging. And that led to exchanging soft kisses and bites on each other's necks and with little effort, I got it up again and had her riding me so hard, that if anyone was walking in the back parking lot outside the office, they sure as shit heard me scream her name.
We redressed and finished up our closing procedures for the next half hour. Our eyes at half-mast, I seriously don't know how we made it home in one piece, leaving the bar at 3:30 in the morning.
What a night.
I yawn and stretch, rolling over and wrapping my girl up in my arms before I take a quick look at her alarm clock to see that it's almost ten.
"Morning, pretty girl. Want some coffee?" I kiss her shoulder and wait for a response.
"Mhmmm."
"Want me to bring it up here for you?"
"Mhmmm." I laugh at her unenthused reply.
"We don't have to be at my parents' place for dinner till five, wanna just swim and lounge out by your pool today?"
"Mhmmm."
I chuckle again and give her one final kiss on her head before rolling back and throwing the covers off. I grab a pair of sweats from the duffel bag I've been keeping in the corner of her room and walk downstairs to grab the paper and get the coffee started.
Fifteen minutes after I placed a steaming mug of coffee on her nightstand, Bella comes walking into the kitchen to find me sitting at her island. I'm reading the paper.
"She walks in beauty." I deliver, grinning like a fool.
"Thank you, Lord Byron. Whatcha got there?" She wraps her arms around me from behind and attempts to peek around my shoulder at the paper.
"'Grease!' is playing its final week at the Surflight Theater down in Beach Haven, would you want to go see it?"
"Yeah, absolutely! Always loved the music from 'Grease!'. I remember Aunt
Didi once told me a story about when I was three years old. Apparently, I was
singing to myself and my Dad asked me to sing a little louder and I crooned,
'Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee, lousy with virginity...' haha, Aunt Didi said my
Dad hit the roof and threw away the DVD and soundtrack," she laughs.I feel a lump form in my throat at the mention of Bella's dad sounding like a parent that made a sound decision for his three year-old daughter. Where was that same thought process when he agreed to let her marry Alec King?
"Hey, what's wrong?"
She must have caught me spacing out and at a loss for words for a minute. I just have to tell her this part of our history right now. I would love for us to skip right to that part of the journal to see if the pieces come together to make any kind of sense.
I inhale deeply, preparing for a tough conversation.
"I want to try and search for something in your journal, babe. At the beginning of the final summer I worked for the Flanders, there was an incident that I was involved in, and maybe it will help me and even you understand the relationship between your Dad and the Kings and what it was that made him allow you to marry into their family."
A crease forms in between her eyes and she nods, "Okay. What dates am I looking for? Can you ballpark it?" she asks, reaching for her journal.
"Umm, the very beginning of June in 2006," I answer, before draining my coffee cup and standing to get a refill.
"Alright. While I skim and look for dates, why don't you tell me what you know and I'll see if I can find any answers."
"In a nutshell, I overheard Alec and Royce betting you, like, putting you up as collateral, during a late night poker game while your parents were away for the weekend. The men stopped throwing money in the pot, and they were hoping to win this really fucking rare bottle of Chivas. Their opponents had been eyeing you all evening, probably because you were walking around in this string bikini that should've been outlawed."
She laughs at my over-protective and semi-asshole-ish comment. "Go on."
"I think they must've slipped you something. I suspected GHB, you know, the date rape drug, because you were beyond torn up, didn't have a clue what was going on, you fell, split your lip, couldn't see straight, it was nuts." I shake my head in anger, remembering how it upset me to see her that way. I glance over at her and she's sitting across the kitchen island from me, her hands folded around her coffee cup, hanging onto my every word.
"Anyway, the Kings lost. And I heard them say they'd drop you off at one of the hotels a few blocks away where the winner was staying. They all went out to grab some food on the boardwalk, but I got you out of there before they came back and I stayed with you for the rest of the night in your suite."
"So wait. You're saying my boyfriend and his father BET me in a game, LOST, and then planned to trade me into a night of sex slavery? Because they lost the fucking hand?"
I scrub my hands over my face for a second and nod, continuing to rub my hands on my sweats.
"But you said you saved me and stayed to watch out for me for the rest of the night...so it never happened, right?"
"Right. Even though we were acting like we despised each other at the time, I couldn't let them hurt you like that. I was terrified for you that night." I take another deep breath and continue. "Anyway, I approached your Dad that Monday morning to tell him what I knew. I told him what I overheard from them and that I kept you safe that night."
"And yet, somehow, here I sit with that fucker's last name!" she shouts in anger and frustration...not at me, but at the universe...I get it.
"That's what we need to find out. Maybe your journal will tell us what went on that final summer and explain how you came to agree to getting engaged. Especially knowing that you came to me at the end of the summer, pleading with me to hear you out before I left the Flanders for good."
"Sounds pretty desperate of me...go on."
"About a week or so before Labor Day, you found me in the pavilion and asked if you could talk to me off Flanders property, after my shift ended. You sounded serious, so even though I hated spending time with you because it hurt so badly, I agreed to meet you."
I watch her face, almost morphing into a smile, showing some hope. My face doesn't reflect the same, though.
I know what eventually happened.
And even though I may have smiled that final week and weekend while it was happening, my heart ended up in a dumpster, shredded to pieces within a few weeks.
Here comes the hard part.
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