Dang It Bella

BPOV

Just make it to your car.

You can freak out in the privacy of your car.

Angry tears well up in my eyes but I refuse to let anyone see.

"Tough day, Bella," a coworker calls across the parking garage in a cheerful voice. "Have a great long weekend, Sweetie."

Sweetie, my ass Stanley.

I give her my best smile, trying very hard not to look like a serial killer or a psychopath.

"Thanks, Jess. You too." I throw myself into the cab of my car and immediately plug in my phone. Needing to have a moment of insanity - I close my eyes and lose myself in the beginning of my rage playlist.

Today sucked - majorly. If it could go wrong it did:

Woke up late for work due to the fact that one of my roommates kept me up half the night crying over her stupid on again off again boyfriend. Check.

Got chastised in front of the entire office for being late. Check.

Lunch got stolen out of the office fridge. Check.

Not to mention I didn't find out about it until it was too late to call for takeout. I ended up eating a baggie of stale cheerios I found in my desk, instead.

Then our system suddenly shut down while I was in the middle of working on a very important document so I spent the majority of the day with the new technical support guy. Half-check, for reasons.

Did I mention that my nickname for him is the hot, lickable, tech guy?

I've made an ass out of myself more than once in his presence because he makes my brain all fuzzy when he smiles and that fucker is always smiling.

Always.

Not to mention the fact that he caught me blatantly staring at him multiple times.

But seriously, who could blame me?

Drum solos and screaming vocals are blasting from my speakers when I realize that some of that screaming is actually coming from me. I can't contain my anger anymore and start to throw my purse and anything within reach around my Prius.

Bella Swan is in full-on freak-out mode.

Turns out the system shut down took my entire days work with it. And guess who decided to shut it down without warning my entire team?

Stupid Stanley. Stupid Jessica Stanley.

"Stupid Stanley and her stupid fucking face!" I bang on my steering wheel. "That idiotic cootie queen."

She immediately regretted the decision to sabotage us though because we got Edward Cullen all to ourselves for the day, and I know for a fact she was chomping at the bit to get him to ask her out this weekend despite the rules. But he was too busy trying to fix her fuck up and throwing some major shade her way - she never did get her invitation.

"Dumb twatcicle." I mutter, wishing I hadn't just thrown my coffee mug. 'Cause I had only taken a few sips this morning when I was running late, and NOW I have to get the upholstery cleaned.

Anyway, back to my super bad day.

Cullen couldn't fix the fuck up so I lost everything I had been working on today.

If he wasn't o fucking pretty I would have cussed him out, the possibility of being fired be damned.

You see, Cullen took the nerd mold and crushed it.

Sure, he wears the geek shirts, skinny ties with converse and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses when he has to read something, but I know for a fact he's packing some serious lethal shit underneath those shirts. I found out one afternoon when our printer decided to go full-on squid and start shooting ink every time someone tried to make a copy.

We were alone and he didn't even think twice before he ripped his ink-covered shirt over and off his head. The man is chiseled. Not to mention he has a little permanent ink of his own. My knees buckled and I ran from the copy room like my ass was on fire. My roommates still make fun of me for not at least trying to lick the six-pack he's sporting. But that's rule number one in the office - don't touch the tech.

Esme, our office manager, threatened bodily harm to anyone that touched a hair on her beloved nephew's head. He is here as a favor and he doesn't want to get molested. Yeah, I want to molest him. Even though he couldn't find my work, and, well, the fact that I would most likely get fired.

...

When I'm good and somewhat calmed down I remember that tonight is taco night via my good roommate's boyfriend who is taking culinary classes down at the community college for fun. Tacos mean tequila and this girl needs some tequila.

Like gallons of it.

Ahora.

I throw my car in reverse and start to back out of my spot immediately meeting resistance.

Please be someone's dog. Not that I want to hit a dog but it's better than a person. Please don't be a person. Er, if it is, please don't be dead.

A male groan followed by the thu-dump of my car rolling over something possibly human can be heard over my rage music.

"Oh fuck," I whisper under my breath, turning the car off and grabbing my phone.

There are legs poking out from under my car and those shoes look all too familiar.

I am sooo getting fired.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." I mutter to myself, fumbling with my phone so I can call 9-1-1 and let them know I just killed my boss's nephew.

Maybe I should call Charlie first. He'd know what to do. But then again that would make him an accomplice. Shit, what do I do? What do I do?

Imagine my relief when the corpse gives a groan and the legs sort of jerk.

It's aliiiive.

"Dang it, Bella," he mutters, sliding out from under my car.

He's dirty and he looks like he's in pain. There's a bump and some blood on his face but it could be worse. He also looks pissed, like super pissed. I mean I'd be pissed too if I got backed over by a Prius.

Just saying.

Focus Bella.

"Are you okay?" I stupidly ask, my finger huddling over the call button. "Should I call an ambulance?"

He attempts to stand on wobbly legs despite my insistence that he should maybe stay on the ground. I've cried over enough episodes of Grey's to know that the injured person should always remain still until help arrived. However, said injured person has other ideas.

"I'm fine, but I think you dislocated my shoulder," he touches the bump on his head and winces, "and I'm pretty sure that my MacBook is dead."

We both look under the car and sure enough, his messenger bag is resting underneath my back passenger tire. There's no way a laptop could survive that.

I offer to replace the laptop knowing I'll probably starve for the next two months to pay for that sucker. And let's not even begin to think he might sue me for the whole running him over thing, but he's more worried about the fact that his arm is sort of hanging off his body like a limp noodle.

We both speak at the same time:

"Do you think we should call an ambulance?"

"Can you give me a ride to the hospital?"

"Me …!? I almost killed you and you want to get in the car with me?" I ask in disbelief.

He smiles despite the pain he's obviously in.

I'll be damned if it still isn't one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

"Well, considering that I was standing behind your car, in shock that someone like you listens to System Of a Down, I guess I sort of asked for it."

"Chop Suey is the only way I could come down from the absolute shit-fest that was today," I explain.

"After witnessing your hissy fit I believe you," he replies.

I blush because my cheeks hate me and like to show my emotions sometimes.

Instead of replying, I give a harrumph and move to the passenger side of my car, opening the door for him. Cullen slowly slides into my car, wincing when he jars his noodle arm.

I feel like an asshole.

"Why is the seat wet?"

Remembering that I threw my coffee I feel like an even bigger asshole.

A big selfish asshole.

Goodbye Emmett's tacos. I shall mourn you while I scarf down a vending machine sandwich at the hospital because today fucking sucks.

Back up.

Here I am lamenting about the fact that I won't be enjoying gourmet tacos and tequila tonight and hot tech guy is probably going to be in pain for a while. Maybe the hospital will give him the good stuff and I can still make it home in time to at least get leftovers.

We've already established that I'm an asshole, okay?

Cullen groans and I make quick work of finishing the job on his messenger bag; tossing it in my backseat and wincing when I hear the glass breaking even further.

...

"I really am sorry," I tell him, driving as carefully as I can to the local emergency room. He smiles one of his million-dollar smiles at me and I start to veer off the road.

"Watch it," he tells me, grabbing his arm in pain. "Dang it, Bella!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I say rapidly. "You make me all kinds of nervous when you do that."

"Do what?" He asks.

I side-eye him because he has to know the effect he has on people with vaginas. I mean I know he's a nerd and all, but, come on, he has to have seen himself in the mirror - right?

"Um … exist?" Replying with a question.

He smirks like he's proud of himself, and I almost clip the mirror of a Dodge.

"Dang it, Bella."

"Stop looking at me!"

"Stop trying to kill me!" He rebuttals, and, lucky for me, turns away to stare out the window.

I apologize three more times before he replies, his voice a little faint probably from the pain he's in.

And, then, I catch on to what he's saying and slam on my breaks a little too hard.

Oh God, tell me he didn't just say that.

"You're going to tell your aunt that I tried to kill you because you couldn't retrieve my lost document?" I ask incredulously, "You are kidding, right?"

Please, please be kidding.

"Well, you are a terrible driver. And you were mighty pissed when you found out the file got lost."

"Edward," I whisper, pleadingly, "please, I really need this job and I actually do like working for Esme."

His megawatt smile totally throws me off.

"I'm only joking ... but you have some serious ass-kissing to do before we go back to work on Monday." He says, shaking his head in jest.

Instead of answering him, horny little thought bubbles pop up above my head of me actually kissing his delectable ass.

"Bella, the light turned green."

"Hmm?" I mumble, watching the bubbles pop one by one.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

I frown.

"The light, it's green. Can we go on to the hospital now?" He points a finger at the growing bump on his head and then his arm.

"Oh fuck, damn it, right, on it."

Dang it, Bella.

Edward gives a big sigh of relief when I pull into a spot in the crowded hospital parking lot without causing an accident. I help him out of the car partially because I wanna touch him and partially he's looking a little green around the gills.

If he makes it out of here without a concussion it'll be a miracle.

We enter the ER waiting room and find it almost full to capacity.

Great.

Unfortunately, I happened to injure Edward's dominant arm so I end up signing him in and filling out all of the necessary paperwork.

However, this, fortunately, means I get to learn a bunch of personal information about the hot, lickable, tech guy:

His birthday is June 20th and he's thirty-three.

I do love me an older man.

He lives a couple of blocks away from my parents.

Might make things a little interesting if I'm ever doing the walk of shame-woah!

Way to get ahead of yourself there, Bella.

His blood type is O-neg.

I am pretty accident-prone; so that's actually a good thing to know.

His emergency contact is his aunt Esme.

Awe, adorable.

I reach the end of all the paperwork, forging his signature because he tells me to. Great. Charlie will be so proud of me. I've broken two laws tonight - unpremeditated attempted manslaughter and forgery.

Yay me.

…

We're waiting for Edward to be called back to be seen by a doctor and he's leaning with his head against the wall and his eyes are closed.

"Yo, Edward ... You can't go to sleep." I tell him, poking him in his chest.

He stirs but makes no effort to open his eyes.

Dang it, I have to take drastic measures.

"Oh! My God! I didn't realize my boob was totally hanging out of my shirt. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Three. Two. One. Bingo ...

His bleary eyes pop open and immediately zero in on my chest, where my boobs are safe and secure in my shirt and bra.

"Gotcha!" I laugh.

Such a guy.

He gives me a pout that is just about as adorable as one of his smiles.

"You have to stay awake, Edward. We could be here for a while and I think you have a concussion. How do you feel?"

He shrugs and winces. "I've definitely had better days."

My turn to pout, "Have I told you how sorry I am?"

Edward stares at my mouth for a second before answering.

"Yeah, a million or so times. It's alright, Bella. I was standing behind your car so I sort of asked for it."

He keeps saying that, but it does absolutely nothing for the guilt I feel. I should have seen him standing there staring at me if that is what he was doing. Plus, I'm still gauging him to make sure this isn't going to turn into a lawsuit or worse - me losing my job.

We sit in silence, watching a little boy across the way jump up and down singing this super annoying song about a family of sharks.

Repeatedly.

Like as soon as he finishes, he just starts back up.

It's torture.

I think my ears might be bleeding.

It's not that I don't like kids. I mean they're cool and all, and I might want one or two in a couple of years if I find the right guy even. But, for now, I like being the aunt that fills them full of sugar and gives them back to their parents when they reach the point where I find them annoying.

This kid though ...

"Shut the fuck up, do-do-do-do-do." I sing quietly.

Edward chuckles and pats my thigh, letting me know that I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was.

His hand lingers on my leg.

My eyes linger on his hand.

We just kind of linger …

It's then that the hospital Gods take pity on us and the little boy disappears via the double doors with his mom and little sister.

Thank zombies

…

I spend the next hour trying to keep Edward awake. Mindless chatter, stupid jokes and just getting to know one another; anything to keep his mind alert and off of the pain and need to sleep.

He's leaning his head against my shoulder while I scratch the back of his neck when his name is called.

"I'll ... er … I'll just wait out here."

Edward shakes his head, stumbles a bit, and pulls me down the hallway behind the male nurse.

"You can help him into this," the murse tells me, passing me a hospital gown.

"We're going to have to x-ray the arm and head. He can keep his pants on." I choke on my spit and nod.

Then we're alone.

Edward's in no shape to undress; so I sit him down on the gurney, steel myself for ALL OF MY FANTASIES finally coming true, and unbutton his crisp, somewhat dirty shirt.

You will not lick this man.

You will not lick this man.

You will not lick this man.

Yet.

His chest is just as great as I remember. Toned. Smooth. A smattering of copper-colored hair. A tattoo of a phoenix rising from ashes.

I have to go back to my mantra.

Edward clears his throat bringing me out of my haze.

"See something you like, Bella?" He asks, in a lower octave that sends shivers down my spine.

My head snaps up and my eyes zero in on his mouth and, oh, no no no. He has one of his best smirks going on.

Resist, Bella. You. Must. Resist.

It takes great effort to get my shit together and form an answer.

"Yes. I mean no. I mean ... you have a tattoo."

It's then I realize I've been tracing the ink on his skin with my fingers this entire time and snatch my hand back; begging for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"Yes. Most people do these days," he smirks, cockily. "Do you have any ink?"

This is not happening!

I mean I kind of dream about this happening-minus the whole car accident, dislocated shoulder and us being in the hospital thing. But I do; do dream about us. He can never know about my ink. Never.

His smile grows. It's like he knows I'll give him anything he asks for - and is willing to patiently wait forever for it.

Stupid man!

My resolve cracks like an egg on the kitchen floor.

See.

"I have a taco on my hip." I blurt out, my face turning cherry tomato red.

Again, with the stupid cheeks.

He looks down my body, his head cocked to the side like he has x-ray vision and can see past my flannel shirt before his eyes snap back to mine.

"Wait, you said taco?"

"Yes. I fucking LOVE tacos. I could eat them all day every day. I was, also, really stupid, drunk and celebrating graduation with my best friend Rose." I'm rambling, "The artist should have seen that I was three sheets to the wind and sent me home but Friday the thirteenth is Friday the thirteenth, and there was a taco on the flash sheet and ..."

"Bella."

"Yeah?"

He stumbles to find his words. Just as he opens his mouth the door swings open revealing - HOLY HELL IN A HANDBASKET Dr. McDreamy does exist.

"Edward, I saw your name on a chart," the blonde doctor from every girl's ever-lovin' fantasy says before taking in the scene in front of him. "So… What do we have here?"

Oh nothing ... just a hot dude sitting on a hospital bed shirtless while a dorky mousey girl makes an idiot of herself. You know just the same-old-same-old.

"Uncle Carlisle, I thought you and Es already left for your vacation." Edward greets the man with a fist bump.

He and Emmett are going to get along so fucking well ... Wait, what?

Uncle Carlisle frowns sadly. "Unfortunately, I got caught up in a case so we're taking a later flight out. What's going on?"

I stare at the floor in shame.

It's weird how interesting things become in a matter of a second, huh? Floor tiles, shoelaces, or the dirt under your nails can become the most important items in the world when you don't want to admit what you've done. Dirt? I just cleaned my nails, why are they dirty again? Ugh. Dang it, Bella. Keep it together.

"Well, you see what had happened was ... I had a really bad day and it was a total accident," I take a deep breath. "I ran over Edward."

Inhale/exhale look at the beautiful Uncle Carlisle and hope he doesn't tell Esme to fire me. Or decide to call the cops.

"I fell underneath Bella's car." Edward interrupts, defending me.

Carlisle clears his throat and I look up to him staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Bella?" He turns to his nephew, "The Bella you were telling me about?"

Wait, what? Telling him? As in, Edward, was talking about me? What the fuck?

I turn to Edward for an explanation, only to accidentally jar his injured shoulder in my haste.

He groans, "Dang it, Bella."

He turns to his uncle, "Shut up."

I apologize but it falls on deaf ears while the two of them have this weird guy stare down.

After ages, but really only like half a minute, Carlisle's face breaks out in a grin as he starts examining his nephew, asking questions as his hands work.

"You did well, Bella. Keeping him awake," he mentions, clearing some of the blood from Edward's face. "She's right about the concussion. You won't need stitches, just keep it clean unless you want it to scar."

Edward nods.

"I'll take you down for x-rays now. Bella, you can stay here."

I nod and watch them walk out the door, trying very hard not to hear their conversation before the door shuts.

"So, that's Bella. Niiice," from Carlisle. The sound of skin slapping skin. "Ow, shit," also from Carlisle.

I sit on the gurney and contemplate what just happened.

Ahem.

I fondled Edward and he didn't run away screaming, so I'm guessing he enjoyed it.

He has totally talked about me to his uncle, my boss's husband, and his uncle thinks I'm niiice.

Dude.

My phone dings with a text message. Rose.

Hey, tacos are done and you aren't here. Alice made up with Jasper so the four of us are headed to Hulio's for some bottom shelf tequila and pool. Meet us there?

Yeah sorry! Work emergency. Don't know when I'll be home. LEAVE MY LEFTOVERS IN THE MICROWAVE!

Boo, I guess we'll see you in the morning. Love your tits.

Love your ass.

The door opens and the two men walk back in, Carlisle carrying a couple of things and Edward is all swagger and sexy giggly smiles.

Those smiles make my boobs ache.

"We're just waiting on the films," Carlisle informs me. "Edward has been given a small dose of pain medication so I can fix his dislocated shoulder."

"Clearly he's enjoying that." I laugh, jumping off the bed so that the all giggly stoned one can take a seat.

"Thanks, pretty lady." He says, making me blush and Carlisle to snort loudly.

I watch Edward get his shoulder set, gross by the way, and fitted for a sling; listening to the two of them banter back and forth. Their relationship is super cute. You can tell they're close because Carlisle has wicked patience for his very silly nephew.

A nurse knocks on the door and lets Carlisle know that the x-rays are back so he spends some time clicking away at the computer hanging from the wall as he reviews them.

"Just as I suspected, nothing's broken. Now, you'll be in the sling for a while, Edward, so no strenuous use of the extremity. And you'll need someone to stay with you for the night to watch your concussion. Es and I can postpone the trip or I can admit you for the night."

Oh no. Esme's been looking forward to her vacation for months.

Apparently, with being a doctor, her husband always has trouble getting time off.

"I'll take him to my house," I offer. "I … uh ... I have two roommates. I'm sure between the three of us we can keep him awake or watch to make sure he's breathing."

Carlisle smiles like a loon and Edward gives me a glazed smile.

Stoney bologna and his smile still makes me wanna bow down ... and while I'm down there I could, you know?

"See what I mean, Carl? She's so fucking selfless. She totally could have gotten that idiot Stanley fired today for the stunt she pulled, but she didn't," He reaches out grabbing my hand and pulls me to him abruptly. I stumble and trip over myself, landing on his good side with an oomph. "So sexy."

HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!

Carlisle laughs, like really laughs. He's practically rolling on the floor he's laughing so hard. I must be glaring at him because he stands up, clearing his throat and straightening his lab coat.

"Bella, I'm sure you know the rules. Watch over him. If his headache worsens or he starts vomiting don't hesitate to bring him back in. I'll prescribe him something for the pain and he can take some ibuprofen to keep the inflammation down."

"Gotcha. I'm well versed in the care for a concussion. I've had a few in my day." I tell him.

We wait for Carlisle to fill the prescription while Edward plays with our braided fingers and tells me that he's wanted to hold my hand for a while now.

Hot, lickable, tech guy has a bad case of verbal vomit.

"How long is a while?" I inquire.

Yes, inquiring minds want to know.

"Since I started working at ..."

The door swings open.

We're officially sprung.

…

I decide that I can properly interrogate Edward in the safety of my own home so I fold him into my car, let him toggle around my phone that has been plugged back in and drive us to my house without incident.

I might have smacked him when he turned on the song that was playing when I ran him over. Did that really only happen like three hours ago? It feels like it's been ages.

"You live here?" Edward asks, climbing out of the car. "Nice."

"Thanks." I look up at the massive two-story house I share with Rose and Alice. It's actually Rose's grandmother's house that was passed down to her a couple of years ago. It's big and beautiful and home, for now.

I show him the first floor so that he can move about the premises on his own free will.

"Um, we don't have a guest room, Alice turned one of the extra rooms into her studio and the other one is a gym," I show him both rooms, ignoring the wide-eyed look he gives me at Alice's studio. She's a wannabe artist that fights with her boyfriend constantly so she's angry. A lot. "Alice is there, Rose is here and this is my room."

He enters my room before me and walks around slowly taking everything in.

I look around to make sure there aren't any bras or panties laying about. No, what he finds is so much worse. He chuckles as he picks up Beefy, my stuffed taco, that I've had for years.

"Tell me you don't still sleep with a stuffed animal. Well, taco?" He pleads.

I snatch the toy from him and put it back on my nightstand. "You gotta cuddle something when you sleep, jerk."

How dare he talk smack about my baby taco?

He goes to open his mouth, but I hold up my hand.

"There's nothing you can say about Beefy Gordita Crunch that hasn't already been said. Yes, I'm a twenty-four-year-old that sleeps with a stuffed taco."

He walks towards me with a sly smile on his face and takes my hand.

"I wasn't going to say anything about Beefy Gordita Crunch other than he better move over because the only thing you'll be cuddling with tonight is me."

Something tells me Edward is no longer under the influence of narcotics

And then he's kissing me.

Like really kissing me.

Hard and fast and wonderfully.

I lose myself in the feeling of his lips against mine, his tongue doing wicked things to my mouth and his hand on my ass.

His hand. On my ass.

My panties are pretty much destroyed at this point and the buttons on his shirt aren't going to survive much longer.

Fuck this shit, I want to do bad, bad things to his beefy Gordita and I mean I want to do more than just cuddle with it.

We break apart and I slowly take his arm out of the sling.

He gives me a questioning look as I unbutton his shirt. "Are we doing this?"

I push the fabric off his shoulders. "Oh, we're doing this."

Because, somewhere between him telling his uncle that I was sexy and him making fun of my stuffed taco, I decided that I don't care if I lose my job. I mean I care but the pros outweigh the cons here.

If I play my cards right I'll have an entirely different stuffed taco, if you know what I mean.

My shirt and bra are on the floor.

How did that even happen? He's only got one good arm. And it's not even his dominant one.

I push Edward onto my bed, jarring his shoulder in the process. "Dang it, Bella."

"Sorry." I try to slow down but I'm a cat in heat at this point. I wanna rub myself all over him.

"S'okay," he shimmies up the bed until he's resting against my headboard and pats his lap. "C'mere."

You don't have to tell me twice.

I step out of my skinny jeans because they are uncomfortable enough and as magical as Edward's fingers are I don't think he can work them off of my body with one arm. I decide to throw the guy a bone in hopes that he'll throw one back at me. Or in me, you know?

He takes the bait and I gulp loudly when he unbuttons his jeans. One. Button. At. A. Time. Button fly jeans are the ultimate turn on, I'm just saying.

"A little help?"

I nod my head helping him slide his pants off and toss them over my shoulder with a smile. It's then I see what I'm up against. The boy knows what his smirk hides. This dude is lethal in a pair of boxers and I'm prepared to meet my fate. I carefully climb onto his lap not wanting to hurt his shoulder or to stop THIS from happening. Because this was happening and by the feel of things he wants this, too.

"Well, hello there." I greet, little Edward. Big Edward must not find it funny because he shifts his hips poking me right there. RIGHT. THERE. And I moan.

My lips find his and I smile against his mouth because they fit together so perfectly. Our chests rub together in time with our mouths.

And then the most embarrassing thing happens.

Well, not the most embarrassing thing, but one of the most embarrassing things - my stomach growls, embarrassingly loud, reminding me that I've only had coffee and stale cheerios today.

Edward presses his forehead to mine, "Time to feed the Bella?"

"Ugh," I pant, "I need a human moment."

Seriously, I'm so turned on at this point that I want to cry because my stupid body needs sustenance.

"My roommate's boyfriend made tacos, they're in the microwave. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Meet you down there?" He nods and watches me walk out of the room wearing only my panties.

I don't have to pee or anything so once I hear him shuffle down the stairs I just kind of stand in front of the mirror and give myself a pep talk. I smooth my untamed hair down; give myself a sexy smile and a wink. It's then I hear a high pitched 'HIYAH!' And a thud, a whimper and then a "Dang it, Bella!"

I practically fall down the stairs in my haste to find Edward. As I stumble to a stop I find Edward backed-up against the fridge with a stiletto to his throat, a stiletto belonging to my best friend, and black belt, Rosalie.

"Um, Rose. Put down the leg and step away from ... my friend."

Rosalie, whose nostrils are flared, looks at me. Edward, who looks like he might have crapped his pants, looks at me. Alice, Jasper, and Emmett are looking everywhere, but at me. And me, suddenly realizing I'm standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but my panties, I look at Edward and I can't fucking move for some reason, like at all.

Rose looks over and slowly removes her foot from Edward's throat. Allowing him the freedom to walk over to me and use himself as a human shield to cover my naked body.

Emmett clears his throat. "Okay. Let's all settle down now."

I rub Edward's shoulder and silently ask if he's alright, he just wraps his arms around me tighter and nods.

"Um, guys. This is Edward," I say, not looking from his face for a second before turning to my friends. "Edward, the next karate kid is Rosalie, her boyfriend Emmett, Alice and Jasper."

Alice gives a happy wave. Rose's eyes widen. Jasper just nods.

Emmett, who clearly remembers all of my drunken rants about the hot, lickable, tech guy, looks like he's about to burst at the seams.

And, then, he does, "Dude, you don't know how long we've had to hear about you and how Bella fantasizes about you taking her in the copy room ..."

"EMMETT!" I scream, but he's Emmett so he just keeps fucking talking.

"And on her desk, and in the pool ..."

And, then, Alice has to put her two cents in. "Don't forget the alleyway of Hulio's ... and that one sex dream she had where they did it on the top of her Prius ... Which was kind of weird."

"... or how about that odd one with the vampires and he was covered in glitter?" Emmett says from the floor.

And, then, everyone is talking about the extent of my fantasies that include the dude that's currently hiding my fun bags from view.

And, yeah, that dude, well ... Edward's laughing his fucking head off.

A little too fucking much if you ask me.

I'm beyond mortified.

"ENOUGH!" I push Edward away, tits on display be damned and put my hands on my hips. "I hate all of you people!"

Everyone's quiet as I stomp over to the microwave grabbing the plate containing my delicious tacos, two beers from the fridge and turn out of the room.

I sit on my bed with Beefy in my lap, a taco in one hand and a beer in the other when Edward finds me a minute later.

He closes the door, engages the lock and turns to me. He has the decency to look apologetic.

I huff as I offer him a beer, but I'm not sure he's special enough to share my tacos with. Or my taco. 'Cause I kind of want to die of embarrassment and be done with it.

"You okay?"

"You know what? No, I'm not okay." I throw my half-eaten taco down on the plate and stand up.

I can feel a rant coming on.

"Ever since you started at the firm I've wanted you. So yeah, I've talked about you to my closest friends who are - were more like family. And every single day I continue to make an ass out of myself in your presence. I mean, really? And now this, you wouldn't be here if I didn't hit you with my fucking car. I can't take any more of this. I'm done. Just go. Jasper will give you a ride home. Go back to pretending like I don't exist at work."

He tries to say something but I stop him.

"Work." I angrily chuckle, " You know Esme threatened us that if we so much as even touched you we'd be fired? So here I am throwing myself at you like a hussy when I could lose a job that I really enjoy all for what? A quick lay and extreme mortification? I don't know maybe the day has just finally hit me. Low blood sugar, high adrenaline rush, fear, lust, humiliation it's just too much to now add your possible rejection on top of it, so please just let Jasper take you home."

"Bella, I wasn't standing behind your car because you were throwing a fit," He smiles and walks towards me tentatively. "I was waiting for you to calm down so I could ask you to go on a date with me. Hell, I would have taken getting a drink at the bar across the street at this point."

He takes my hands in his and I'm breathing embarrassingly loud.

"I know about my overprotective overbearing aunt's threats because at my last job I was sexually harassed by a coworker to the point where I up and quit. She was only trying to protect me. And, there's a reason my uncle knows about you, I've talked about you to both of them, and she gave me the go-ahead tonight to ask you out before she left."

"Really?" I ask, in disbelief.

Dare I hope?

"Really? Is it that hard to believe? You are the only one I want. And not for just a quick lay. How can I get you to believe me?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

To start with.

We fumble over to my bed; tacos and beer are the last things on my mind. Beefy gets tossed across the room.

Everything's going great, I'm super wet and panting against his mouth. His boxers are on the floor and he's pretty well hung. He reacts to my touch in a spectacular way. We've got chemistry. Until he leans back and pulls my panties off of me spotting the tattoo on my hip and starts laughing so hard the entire bed shakes.

I smack him upside the head, ala Rosalie and Emmet style, earning a groan and a ...

"Dang it, Bella."