Spiral Static

I couldn’t for the life of me stop laughing. Giggles, inappropriate but so very hard to control, bubbled up from my stomach despite the hand that I had clamped over my mouth.

On the other end of the phone, Alice was cracking up just as hard as I was. Perhaps even more so. “Then what happened?” she begged. “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe you two made a plane crash land.”

That got me rolling again. I couldn’t exactly say why it was so funny to me, but my stomach was really starting to hurt. “Well, it didn’t so much crash as it did bump and rattle and shake until the pilot managed to get us to the airport. Oh, and Edward refused to let me put on my seatbelt, even when the stewardess told us eighty times that the landing was going to be rough and to hold on.”

“Well, yeah,” Alice reasoned, sounding very far away on the little cell phone I held. “If he had to bail out with you in tow, he’d want you free of the seatbelt. Lucky he didn’t have to do that. Was he freaking out? I didn’t see his reaction in my vision. Describe his face. Use adjectives.”

“Hmm. Pale, anxious, on edge?” I ticked off. Maybe a little turned on, I added to my own personal list as I glanced slyly at Edward.

“You forgot livid,” he muttered, shaking his head. He was obviously displeased at the phone conversation I was having, but he kept his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel of our rented car as we flew through the countryside. “Really, Bella – I don’t know what either of you find so funny.”

“Everyone got out just fine. We landed normally and everything. But you grounded a plane, Edward. Probably permanently. I mean, who does that?”

“Oh, it was entirely my fault, was it?” he growled. “And what part did you play in it, dearest? I suppose you were only there to provide the on-flight entertainment?”

On the phone, Alice howled.

Edward snatched the phone away from me, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “Stop encouraging her, Alice! She’s growing more brazen by the hour.” He paused, listening. “Oh, please. Bella and I have done nothing of the sort. She’s a lady, unlike you. Nooo. What? Alice, mind your tongue! Esme can’t hear you, can she?”

I grinned, part of me eavesdropping on their conversation, part of me engrossed in the panoramic beauty that surrounded us. The plane had “landed”, for lack of a better word, in Edinburgh, and once we were free of the emergency crews, we’d rented a sports car (because Edward had to have a sports car) to drive south toward Yorkshire. He found a road that bordered the east coast of the island, through the most unspeakably beautiful scenery I had ever seen. The land dipped into moderate waves of green countryside, like something out of a fairytale.

Above our heads, the deep azure sky teemed with puffy clouds. Though it was close to setting, the sun was still quite bright. The windows of the car were tinted, so Edward’s skin didn’t sparkle in the sunlight nearly as much as it would normally have. And the windows were so dim that no one passing us would have noticed anyway. We were driving on the wrong side of the road, and he was behind the wheel on the wrong side of the car. It was all a bit strange.

Edward handed the cell phone to me, looking like a child who had just been forced to eat a plate of spinach. “Alice wants to speak with you again. Don’t listen to a thing she says about me, please.”

When I put the phone to my ear, Alice said, “I want to talk to you about something, Bella. I know Edward can hear me, and it’s okay. He needs to listen, too.”
“Okay.”

“I wanted you to know that I know what you’re doing with Edward.”

I glanced sideways at him, the color draining from my face. “Um...”

“Oh, I don’t mean that, silly. I’m no voyeur. But Bella, the way you’re trying to help his control? It’s a good thing. You shouldn’t give up. Just be careful, okay? Don’t push him too hard. That scene on the plane could have ended up much worse had I not chosen the right plane and seat for you. Oh, and don’t do anything to him in the car, okay? Promise me. If you think the airplane was bad, wait until he wraps the car around an oak tree further up the road.”

Damn. There went my plans for the evening. “I promise,” I agreed with a sigh.

We said our goodbyes.

Edward was still staring straight ahead, knuckles white against the dark leather of the steering wheel. He watched the road carefully, nervously, as if he’d never driven before.

I wasn’t really acting like myself either. I felt shaky and lightheaded, unable to wipe the painful grin off of my face. I felt manic. Overexcited. Not right at all. “I can’t stop laughing, Edward. Why can’t I stop?”

“Because you’re still frightened.”

“Oh. I guess I just don’t remember fear being this funny.” But he was right. I was completely and utterly freaked out, and the fear was manifesting itself in nervous bursts of giggles. The conversation with Alice had merely given me an outlet for that anxious energy. “Oh, God. I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Edward handed me my water bottle. “Drink.”

I fell silent as I sipped the water, trying so hard to just calm down. My hands flitted everywhere, electrified with nerves. I rolled the window down, then back up again when my hair flew in my face, then adjusted my seatbelt and locked the doors. I don’t know why I locked the doors. There was no one around. But it seemed very important at that moment.

Edward gave me a withering glance. “You’re safe now, Bella. Like you said, everything turned out all right. Just calm down.”

I sighed and sunk down into my seat, displeased with his tone but knowing he was right. “I know. That’s not all that’s bothering me, though.”

“Tell me.”

I didn’t answer. I just watched the grasslands blur before my vision.

“Bella?” Edward asked. Then he prickled when again I ignored him. “It drives me mad sometimes when I can’t read your mind.”

“I’m scared you’re never going to let me touch you again,” I said after a long pause. “Or want to touch me.”

He didn’t say anything in reply, though I hesitated and left him plenty of room to structure an answer.

“You’re so angry all the time now,” I whispered after a moment, not looking at him as I fiddled with a string that had pulled free from the stitching of my shirt. “Ever since that awful morning at the hotel when we fought. I miss my Edward. Everything keeps going so wrong. I’m scared it’s going to mess things between us up.”

He turned to stare at me, lips parted, brow creased in anxiousness. Without a word, he pulled the car over to the side of the road, and we came to a grinding halt. A cloud of dirt that we had stirred up in our wake drifted to surround us, concealing us in our own little world. We sat there for a second in silence until he finally worked through what he wanted to say.

“Look at me,” he said, reaching over to guide my chin up. I tried but found it difficult to meet his eyes. He leaned forward and placed his face very close to mine. “You really think that?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.

“Oh, Bella. Nothing can take away or destroy what we have. Nothing.” His other hand tightened over mine, and he brought it to his mouth so that he could kiss my wedding ring. “I apologize. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself since the wedding ended, but that doesn’t mean I’m angry with you. I’m sorry I’ve been so cross. I’ll try to be in a better mood. It’s just that all of this is new to me, too, Bella. It scares me when I don’t know if I can protect you, especially from the darkness and violence I know I’m capable of. I don’t remember ever feeling such an unrelenting tenseness.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Well. You did destroy the hull of a jet today. That can definitely make a person tense.”

He made an exasperated sound, though he was suddenly fighting a smile, too. “Ugh. I did not, you little tease.” Then he snorted, a grin alight on his face. “Good grief. We really forced a plane out of the sky, didn’t we? A bleeding Boeing 777. Do you have any idea how expensive those things are?” He shook his head, incredulous, then turned his golden eyes back upon me. “You should write a book on the art of seduction, dearest. Talk about bringing men to their knees. You rather surprised me up there.”

I blanched and licked my lips, suddenly parched. I took another long drink from my water bottle, glad for an excuse to look away. That frank way he spoke to me ... those eyes – he could floor me in an instant. Me write a book? He was the master of seduction. He didn’t even have to touch me, and I was a mess.

He reached out a hand to stroke my cheek, and as we stared at each other, I was finally able to calm down. All the fear and tension leaked out of my body, coaxed by his gentleness.

“You were wound as tight as a spool of thread, weren’t you?” he murmured, still working his fingers through my hair. It was delightfully lulling. “We’ll be at the inn soon enough and have a nice dinner. Does that sound pleasant?”

I nodded, content. And after he planted a kiss on my forehead, we were off. But before we had gone far down the road, Edward turned to give me an appraising look. His hair was a brilliant shade of bronze as he watched me, stained almost red by the setting sun. “You look different today, Bella,” he said. “I don’t really know how to describe it. Not older, exactly...”

He trailed off there, but his eyes still traced the lines of my face. I didn’t reply, but I think I knew what he meant.

***

Edward had called it an inn. He was lying.

It was a castle.

“See?” I pointed out to him, completely enchanted. “There’s a moat and everything.”

Edward glanced in the direction I indicated, bemused. “That’s a lake, Bella.”

So it was a lake, but I could pretend if I wanted to. The property covered more acres than I could see, here and there an ancient oak tree, the gnarled roots covered in moss and daffodils. In the distance, a herd of deer thundered across the gently rolling hills. The “inn” itself was enormous, like something right out of the pages of a book. If I let my mind wander, I could be standing in front of Austen’s Pemberley or Brontë’s Thrushcross Grange. Edward had acquired us the best room they offered, and when I saw the high ceilings, oak paneling, and polished hardwood floors in our suite, I couldn’t help but protest that it was all too much. He didn’t listen to me.

“I booked the suite months ago,” he explained as he set our bags in the doorway of our room. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it.”

I wasn’t able to enjoy the view of the lake from the window for long. Edward made me put on something nice, and he took me to dinner at a restaurant down the road – a fancy one where they pull the chairs out for you and hand the women their menus before the men – but it was relaxed enough so that I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I chose the venison, feeling curious though maybe a little guilty, picturing the deer I’d seen back on the estate. Even Edward ordered something, though I knew he would leave it untouched after he made me sample it. I was old enough to have a glass of wine in the UK, so Edward ordered me three different kinds. Two reds and a white.

“Just to taste,” he said, showing me how to swirl the liquid around in the glass to release the aromas. “You don’t have to drink all of it. Just a sip at a time until you’re satisfied with your analysis of it.”

“I have to analyze it?” I glanced skeptically at the dark red liquid spinning in my glass. “Why can’t I just drink it?”

“Because it’s wine,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ve always been fascinated by wine, you know. I don’t drink it myself, but I rather enjoy the smell. So complex. They say the intricacies in the flavor are even better than the aroma, but I’ll have to rely on you to confirm that. Here,” he said, passing me a wine glass that he’d just smelled. “This one is reminiscent of honey and oak to me. Smell it first. Put your nose right in the glass – yes, that’s it. Now tell me what you taste.”

I tried it and resisted the urge to make a face when the sour liquid hit my tongue. He was watching my reaction carefully. “I don’t know. Rotten grapes, I guess.”

“Hmm. Try tasting it again. Swish it in your mouth.”

“This is embarrassing. No one else here has their nose in their wine glass. They’re not swishing either. It isn’t mouthwash, Edward.”

“It helps with the flavor,” he explained patiently. He seemed very excited that he was able to share this with me.

We both looked up as our waiter came to deliver our meal. “Here now, try it with your food this time,” said Edward. “Pairing, they call it. You can try as many different wines as you like. Let me choose a few more that you might like better. A pinot noir, perhaps, to go with the venison.” Before I could protest, he pulled out the wine list and started conversing with the waiter.

And that was how Edward Cullen successfully got me drunk.

“This one,” I slurred, pointing to my nearly empty wine glass. I swirled the contents around like he had shown me and only barely managed to keep the liquid from sloshing onto the floor. “This one tastes like over-ripened fruit salad that’s been left outside all day. In a car. And this one...” I held up the other glass. “This one tastes like it’s been festering in a termite-ridden barrel for six-hundred years. Ugh. Why do I keep drinking this? It’s disgusting.”

“You’re going to be sick, Bella. You really should slow down.” But he was smiling, amused, as he said it. “Though I must admit your analysis of the wine list has been most entertaining. A very educational evening for both of us.”

“Yeah.” I hiccupped and grinned at him rather stupidly. “Hey. You’re pretty. Really, really pretty.”

He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped together so that they covered his mouth, but I could see from his eyes that he was trying not to laugh at me. “Thank goodness you’re not a sloppy drunk, or this might be a bit awkward. Let’s get the check then. I should take you back to our suite before you prove me wrong.”

***

Outside of the restaurant, in the empty, dark alley that led to the car, I slipped drunkenly on a bit of loose gravel. He caught me by the waist before I could tumble to the ground. Steadying me, he pressed my body against the wall with his own, one arm leaning casually above my head, his other hand stroking my cheek with the backside of his fingers. He stared down at me for several moments, his eyes setting a fire somewhere deep inside of me.

“Your skin is flushed,” he whispered, and I could feel my cheeks burning beneath his cool hand. “And you smell more delicious than ever to me. Like wine and heather.” He dipped his head to nuzzle the place just beneath my ear and inhaled slowly, deeply. “And summertime.”

I almost slid down the wall onto the ground but somehow managed to stay standing. Another hiccup exploded from my throat with surprising velocity. I furrowed my brow and looked around, puzzled, wondering where the loud noise had come from.

He snorted, not bothering to hide his laughter. Then he pulled me tight against him and attacked me, parting his lips against mine so that he could taste the wine on my tongue. He seemed to like it, and I barely managed to wrap my arms around his neck before he lifted me off of my feet.

The fact that we were caught in such an intimate embrace while anyone could have turned a corner and seen us was terribly exciting. Had I not been intoxicated, I might have protested the blatant PDA, but the wine buzzed in my head and liquefied my limbs. I couldn’t do anything to resist. I didn’t want to resist. It was all entirely too hot.

He moaned into my mouth urgently as his hands began to explore. I was wearing a skirt, having packed it at Alice’s suggestion that I might need something nice to wear one night. But somehow I hadn’t imagined when I’d folded it into my suitcase that Edward one night might ease the silky material up my thighs so that he could mold the contours of my bottom into his large hands.

And yet, he pulled away from my lips before we’d gotten anywhere too interesting. “I can’t do this...” he gasped as he set me back down on my feet. “You’re too tempting. I can’t take advantage of you like this.”

“Edward... ” I all but whined, tugging at his shirt collar to bring him back.

Then he was on me again, his body like a living stone pressing me into the wall, kissing me hard, stealing my breath away. “You smell so good, Bella, ” he groaned despairingly. “Why do you have to smell so damn good?”

I wasn’t above begging. “Take me back to the room. Please. ” Or we could have continued there. I wasn’t picky at that moment.

“God help me,” he gasped, grinding me into the wall one last time before we ran for the car.

Being drunk is a strange feeling. One, because most of the time you think you’re absolutely stone, cold sober, and you can’t understand why your hands and feet don’t work right. Two, because everything (and I mean everything) is hilarious. Even knock-knock jokes are side-splittingly funny. And three, because you lose all of your inhibitions. You feel wild and excited, like the night is yours and nothing has consequences. You do things you normally wouldn’t. Like ravage your husband senseless in a moving vehicle.

Needless to say, the car ride was chaos. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt. I wasn’t even in my seat. Rather, I was wedged somewhere between the middle console and his lap, desperately trying to get at his lips. But sports cars, while nice to look at and very zippy ... well, they don’t always have a lot of room inside to move around in. My elbow bumped against a knob and the windshield wipers started to beat out a frantic tempo. I think I might have even shifted the gears a few times, if the grinding of the transmission was any indication.

Edward, meanwhile, was doing his best to hold the car on the road while I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “Stop that!” he hissed, sounding very stern despite the fact that he was once again snaking a hand up my skirt. “We still have to get through the lobby to our room. I’ll need my clothes for that, Bella, unless you want us to get kicked out. Do you even remember Alice’s warning about us wrapping the car around the tree? Sit down!”

Somehow we made it up to our suite without making a scene, though I goosed Edward in the lobby when the elderly man behind the desk wasn’t looking. In the room, Edward led me to the bed and made me lie down. With a laborious sigh, he smoothed my hair back from my face so that he could press a quick kiss to my forehead.

“No...” I protested when he slipped away from my grasp. “Want boy.” I tried to sit up but realized the room was spinning. Or was I the one spinning? That confused me, and I fell silent, perplexed.

Edward didn’t return to the bed. I watched as he began to remove his nice clothing. I rather liked that. But then he tugged on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, which confused and upset me until he said, “I’m sorry, Bella, but I need to hunt.”

“Now?” I gasped. I had gone past the point of using two-syllable words.

“Now,” he assured me through clenched teeth, his hair standing on end. “Especially with you being so ...” He tilted his head to the side and stared at me blankly for a moment, splayed across the bed with my skirt pushed up to my waist, thighs parted, waiting for him. Then he swallowed and shook his head. “Oh, God. I’ve got to get out of here before I ... just don’t move. I’ll be back soon, all right?”

And then he was gone. The room persisted in its spinning as I stared at the open window he’d slipped through. “Boy?” I whispered, lower lip protruding. Then I rolled over onto my stomach, buried my face in the pillow, and screamed.