Chapter 24
As usual, I wake up before Bella. A look at the alarm clock at the nightstand tells me that it's early even for me, only 5:30, but try as I might, I can't go back to sleep. My whole arm itches, and the only thing I can think of that might distract me from that is waking Bella to pick up where we've left off the night before. But I know that she will not really appreciate that - of all the people in the world I have to be madly in love with the worst morning person there is. And as going down on her to pacify her is off limits right now, I decide to let her sleep and jerk off in the bathroom instead.
But of course the tatt is itching just as much when I'm done cleaning my hands and cock afterwards, and slathering the skin with lotion only helps so much. Restless and frustrated I slink back into the bedroom and don my running clothes. It's still dark outside and the heavy November mist is less than inviting, but I have to burn off energy somehow. The sleepy grunt I get in return when I kiss Bella's shoulder underlines the wisdom of my choice.
Until I come face to face with Jazz downstairs I've nearly forgotten about him staying over. Or not quite forgotten, more like having been very successful in ignoring that fact. Before I can stop myself I feel my shoulders tense up in expectation of some jibe or other - while he has probably never said anything to Bella when she stayed over at our house, I've gotten my fair share of snarky remarks from him, and dealt out at least twice as many myself - but he only mumbles a tired "Good morning," around a spoonful of yogurt. At least now the mystery is solved why he hasn't eaten breakfast with us the day before, if his behavior today is any indication.
Returning his greeting in kind I'm about to walk out of the condo when I realize how strange he is acting - actually it's the first time ever that I've seen him eat his preferred main food group straight from the container, and I'm surprised that the mess of cornflakes that he has left on the counter when he poured them into the yogurt doesn't drive him crazy. What I see when I scrutinize him more closely confirms my suspicion - he doesn't look as if he has slept at all last night, and while I might not be the best judge on that topic, he seems worse off this morning than the evening he has shown up on our doorstep.
The nasty, vengeful part of me cackles gleefully at that realization but I force myself not to gloat at his misery - and instead surprise myself with the words my sleep addled brain comes up with.
"I'm going for a run, wanna join me?"
Jazz stops chewing his mouthful of food, his eyes flitting over my face as if he's looking for any kind of malicious intent there. When he finds none he swallows and shrugs.
"Only if you're doing this out of some other motive than having pity with me."
Snorting, I incline my head in a silent 'touché' gesture.
"And there I thought dragging you out into that weather would seem like an attempt to get back at you."
He's silent for a moment, then offers a hint of his usual bright grin.
"True. I'll be back in a sec."
While he ruts through his stuff to find his running shoes I busy myself with checking my phone. Then we take off into the hostilely cold morning together.
For the first mile neither of us speaks, and I feel myself relax a little more with every block we pass. Over the summer I've gotten used to running alone unless Bella insist on joining me, but while I don't mind slowing down for her, when I run, I want to run. It's my way of shutting down my mind and letting my body finds its limits - I guess most people use sex for that purpose, but as much as I like to play, I can't ever let my guard down. But I can, and do, when I let houses, streets, trees, rivers zoom past me. Only I don't like to be alone all the time, how much so I only realize now that Jazz is along with me again.
I can tell that he has kept up running in the meantime, maybe even worked out more than before. I've always been the faster one of us, longer legs and more time spent outdoors than in the gym helping, but I don't have to slow down at all for him to stay right on my heels. Probably because Alice would have let him go to the dojo without complaints but griped at him playing Halo all night on the xbox, the nasty voice in my head helpfully supplies. And if things were less than stellar between them, he'd probably had to burn off any excess energy through physical exertion, too, as I can't imagine Alice being the kind of woman to put out when she's grumpy. At that I remind myself that Jasper's sex life is in no way of any concern to me, and increase my pace just a little more to shut my brain up from providing any more entertaining notions like that.
There aren't many people up and about yet, and we encounter only a handful of other joggers and dog walkers. Most notable is a pair of women running in the opposite direction - they even stop their animated conversation that doesn't seem to be hampered by their speed to smile and greet us - and I'm surprised that Jazz has barely a look and nod to spare for them. Like the spilled cornflakes incident his complete lack of interest in displaying his usual charm makes me wonder just what is going on in his head. Try as I might I can't stop myself from feeling sympathy for him, and from that moment on the silence between us seems awkward to me. As if I'm deliberately shutting him down out of spite when he probably needs a friend right now like seldom before in his life. Although I'm still honest enough with myself that my motivation behind striking up a conversation is not exactly to let him vent, but for me to stop feeling like an ass.
We have to slow down a little to get out more than a few coherent words, and after several still pressed, single-word answers we finally find a few topics we can discuss - sports, news, video games - and by the time we are back home and spend another few minutes outside stretching talking to him feels nearly natural again. I don't even try to steer the conversation to anything more meaningful or possibly loaded as I guess he will eventually get there if we wants to, but just chatting like that seems to ease some of the strain he is dragging around with him.
Upstairs Bella is awake if looking a little disheveled, her hair still damp from the shower as she fills three mugs of coffee from a freshly brewed pot. I give her a proper good morning kiss before I go shower and dress, hurrying up so that Jazz can hit the shower afterwards before he catches a cold in his sweaty clothes. Because our apartment isn't intended to house guests we have two bathrooms but only one equipped with a shower - the one adjacent to our bedroom - and for the first time I wonder who plans something that impractical.
Bella is silent through most of our breakfast - without Jazz once again as he is still in the shower - until I nudge her elbow gently to get her attention.
The wide-eyed look she gives me tells me more than words ever could, and I sigh inwardly as I reach for my yet neglected coffee.
"What's wrong?"
For a moment it looks as if she's about to deny that there is something bothering her, but at a brief glare from me she drops the pretense, her eyes flitting towards the stairs.
"Did he say anything?"
"About what?"
"Don't be so dense, you know what I mean!" she hisses, but before I can answer - or laugh at the way her cheeks start to haze over with a hint of a blush - Jazz joins us, and after a moment of hesitation takes his cup of coffee over to the breakfast bar to sit down at the end closer to me. I'm a little surprised that he doesn't take the seat next to Bella, but then I catch the stare she is still directing at him.
While ready to offer help, she hasn't actually been very welcoming towards him - not that I blame her, but it only now occurs to me how that must seem to him. In turn I feel a twinge of guilt at my own behavior - shouldn't I have been the one acting the most hostile? - but then I quell the thought before it can start bothering me. I know Bella has had ample opportunity to express any misgivings about my behavior, and I have to admit, she only seems to want to stay distant from Jazz herself, while my attempts not to act up have only gotten me grateful smiles from her. As if she's happy that one of us can at least act civil.
Way before I want to I have to leave for the hospital, Bella on my heels although I know that she rarely starts working before nine in the morning, and for the next four days I have more important things to worry about than whether Bella will kick Jazz's head in sooner or later or not at all. The cold weather and pre-Thanksgiving madness bring hordes of people into the ER, and I can rarely catch enough time to properly eat before the next full free day. Which gets shoved back another three agonizing long shifts when Amanda tells me that she just can't let me go home with patients standing in line in front of the OR.
When I finally come home I'm so tired I nearly fall asleep in the elevator.
Two failed attempts to get the door unlocked finally get Bella to open it from the inside, and she greets me with a warm embrace, a passionate kiss, and a much appreciated, "Gee, you look like shit!"
That's my girl, always has the right words ready.
A strong cup of coffee and some real food later I drag my sorry carcass upstairs into the bed, not surprised that Bella stays up. Only the next morning I realize that things between her and Jazz have shifted a little, at least judging from the way they joke their way through breakfast. It's a relief to see her more at ease around him again, although I feel a little jealous of the time he gets to spend with her while I'm not around, which in turn makes me feel stupid. I still drag her back into bed when she follows me upstairs to brush her teeth, but I haven't even successfully gotten my hand into her pants when she stops me cold by pushing away from me.
"Edward, stop."
Confused, I look at the clock first, but it's still early enough that she won't be late for work, and I don't remember her saying anything about having an important meeting today. She's also still in her sweat pants, not dressed for work and without make-up applied, so it really can't be that. My eyes find hers and I raise one brow, hoping she will explain, which she does with a sigh - and a quick gaze towards the closed bedroom door.
"I'm really not comfortable with having sex right now."
"Why not?"
She looks at me for a long moment as if that should have been obvious, then catches her lower lip between her teeth.
"Because I'm not comfortable with having sex right now."
"Your period?" I venture a guess, although I know the answer already.
"No. And you know that has very seldom stopped you. Or me, for that matter."
I'm tempted to play this game until she spills the beans, but I'm tired of it already.
"So you don't want to have sex with me because Jazz is here now."
She nods, obviously waiting for me to throw a fit or something, but when I don't react at all, she sighs.
"I'm just not comfortable with it."
"You keep repeating that. And just for the record, three times is not the charm here."
She snorts but offers me an apologetic smile at the same time.
"I know. But I can't really explain it in different words."
"You are aware that he won't expect us to be celibate just because he's hogging our couch, right?"
"This is not about him hearing us!" she huffs, then gets up from the bed to start pacing. "This is about me not wanting to give him anything to hear!"
"Okay," I offer in reply, more to the way she throws her hands up in their air than her actual 'argumentation' - while both my mind and cock feel like throwing a fit on their own now.
"Really?"
Her surprise makes me second-guess if I should have fought a little harder for getting some, but the last thing I want is for her to be upset. And I can't shake off the feeling that there is more to this than her just being squeamish.
"Don't get me wrong, the fact that I'm the only one who in one way or another doesn't get to influence when who is going to f*ck in this house doesn't escape me, but if you don't want to have sex, then we won't. It's that easy, and you know that."
Bella nods but still looks chagrin enough that I wonder if she secretly wants me to ignore her, but if that's the case, she has to tell me so, one way or another. And while I respect her wish, I don't hide that I'm not very happy about it - particularly with work taking so much of our time together away from me already.
I stay in bed until Bella has left for work, before I get dressed and head out myself. Not many people around that I can visit during the week at this hour of the day, so it's no surprise that I turn up at Rose and Emmett's. I've called her before I've left home but Rose still greets me with a joyful "Oh look who's here!" before she hugs me, not in the least bit hindered by the infant in her arms, and draws me inside.
She looks tired and worn out - and the fact that it must have been weeks since she last slept for more than three consecutive hours doesn't help her generally rumpled appearance. I've seen her without make-up before but never wearing sweat pants and a washed-out t-shirt to go with it, and it's obvious that she hasn't hit the shower today. Yet before I can let out a remark about her appearance or comment on why she has to emphasize my arrival like that when Mona won't care one way or another, I realize that Rose already has a visitor.
Next to Rose Alice looks even more perfectly put together than she usually does, and her lacquered nails and designer clothes are out of place between the baby stuff strewn across the living room. As usual when I meet her my first reaction is to smile, but she doesn't reciprocate; in fact I haven't even gotten my shoes off yet when she surges to her feet, and in a bustle of activity and air kisses leaves. Or rather flees.
Rose and I share a long look until she shrugs and closes the door behind Alice, the frown on her face gone by the time she turns back to me again.
"Wow, that was fast. I thought she'd stay at least long enough to give you her practiced 'why, of course everything is okay!' speech."
Trust it to Rose not to give a crap about sweet-talking things.
"So you got that one, too?"
"Nope, it's all for your benefit only," she teases, then walks over to the fridge. "Can I get you anything to drink? I think we only have diet coke or water, but it's some kind of choice, right?"
After accepting a can of coke I follow her into the living room, then spend the next few minutes making funny faces at Mona - who requites my efforts by starting to cry, although Rose assures me that it's not my fault. I cannot quench the feeling of rejection welling up in me - first Bella, then Alice, and now even the baby - today doesn't seem to be my day. But contrary to the other two Mona's just tired, and after she is safely tugged in Rose returns to me, looking even more strung out.
"Shit, I tell you, this little bundle of happiness is sucking the very life out of me!"
Despite of her words she's grinning as she flops down onto the couch, and her smile is easily infectious.
"Wait until she's old enough so that you have to watch your language. I bet that's going to be much worse for you."
"A*shole," she gripes back, then shrugs. "Em's mother is already hounding me that I cannot use such, how does she put it? Ah, right, 'filthy terms'
around her granddaughter because that will just turn her into a dirty whore like her mother."
I have to fight hard not to snort my mouthful of coke right back out through my nose.
"So things between you and her haven't improved since you had Mona?"
"No, me legally stealing her cuddly little boy and bearing his little demon spawn all within just a few months haven't exactly made me her favorite person yet."
I nod - not much I can say to that. I'm glad that my mother in particular loves Bella, and while Charlie is still acting reserved and awkward around me, I've never gotten the impression that it's me personally he doesn't want in Bella's life. I've only met Emmett's parents twice, and both occasions have left me wondering how Em has had a chance to grow into the man he is, although I keep suspecting that Rose had an integral part in emancipating him from the prude, conservative life his parents clearly intended for him.
"Speaking of favorite persons, how's Jazz?"
Rose's toothy grin deserves no acknowledgement, and I don't really get the impression she's particularly interested in his well-being.
"I take it you know that he's crashing on our couch."
"Everyone knows, Edward. Which you would know if you were checking facebook like every sane person in the universe."
Now that's definitely news to me, but not really surprising. And I can't even think of the last time I've looked at anything other than my missed calls and emails.
"Then you will probably know more about his current state of health or sanity than me, as you probably read his and Bella's posts every day."
"Neither of them said anything about it. It was actually Jessica Stanley who posted it a few days ago. Clogged up my Farmville notifications for half a day. That skank."
The fact that she actually sounds offended for real makes me crack up anew, but then I catch her inquisitive gaze, which shuts me up quickly again.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just wondering how you're doing with him hanging around."
"He's really not that much of a hassle. And when I spend the next weekend working my ass off at the hospital again Bella at least has someone to keep her company."
"Like a dog, eh?"
I don't comment on that as she clearly doesn't expect me to, but before Rose can go on teasing me I steer the conversation back to the topic that's concerning me a lot more.
"What did you mean about Alice and her practiced speech?"
"She was here already when you called, and of course she needed to know who it was I kept flirting with on the phone, so I told her that you were coming over. I still can't decide if it was funny or just disconcerting how she blanched at hearing that."
Something deep in my gut clenches at her words, Rose's playful tone aside, and I can see from the way she keeps looking at me that she knows how much Alice's behavior concerns me. The fact that she sounds more serious when she goes on just underlines that.
"Just give her a little time, she'll fall back into her usual chipper self soon enough. It seems like only a month ago that you complained that she keeps calling you to tell you stuff that doesn't interest you at the worst of times."
"That's because we actually had that conversation a month ago."
"Ah, how time creeps along when you never get any sleep anymore!" she retorts, then sighs. "But as weird as Alice's way of dealing with things uncomfortable is, I can understand her this time."
"You can? That makes one of us."
"Seriously, would you want to talk with the guy who's most likely to whack you over the head with the same ol' 'I told you so!' when you already know that he's right?"
Her words make me blink in irritation.
"I'd never say that to her."
"Not? You'd be right, too."
Her words make me halt, but while seemingly hungering for gossip, there is no guile to Rose's interest.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but as far as I know neither of them did anything to warrant me saying that. Of course it's entirely possible that I'm missing something here as I barely know anything about what really happened between them. Nor do I particularly care."
"You don't?"
Rose's doubt sounds genuine.
"No, I don't," I emphasize, and when she keeps scrutinizing me, I'm surprised that I even believe what I'm saying. "They are both my friends. Of course I'd rather see them happy, but some people are not meant to be together. Tough luck, but seriously, I don't think it's that much of a surprise that they didn't stick together that long after trying twice before and not even making it over the weekend. Things might have been sketchy between us over the last months, sure, but I don't think it's my place to lay blame with either of them. And even if it was true, I'd never gloat into Alice's face. You should know me better than that. And so should she."
The last part must have come out more dejected sounding than I want to as Rose reaches over and squeezes my shoulder, offering a warm if sad smile.
"She probably knows. Maybe it's just too painful still? Maybe she just doesn't know how to deal with rejection?"
"Rejection? She broke up with him."
For a moment doubt is adding to the queasy feeling in my stomach - what if everything Jazz has told us is really a lie? But then Rose smacks her lips and makes an offhand gesture.
"Any breakup is always full of rejection for both parties. I mean, we obviously all expected Jazz to fail to keep up anything more long-term than a few weeks - but can you remember Alice ever staying together with anyone for longer than that? I don't. And her breaking them up just means she has to deal with the pain of it all with the certainty on top of it that it was she who hurt herself this much."
I want to protest, but try as I might, no words come to my mind. Of course Rose is right - Alice has been about as much into commitments as Jazz, and it's entirely possible that until recently, no one really got under her skin like that. She hasn't spent years pining after someone she's considered out of her reach, nor has she ever had to deal with the person she wants most running off with someone else. Because the only time she ever got close to anything like that was when Jazz chose her in pretty much the most extreme way I can think of - and for the first time ever I feel like anything that has happened on that cursed Friday makes sense.
"It wasn't about us - it was all about her."
Rose lifts one eyebrow at my words but I'm too caught up in my train of thoughts to explain, my mind racing the figurative mile a minute. Part of me wants to cling to what I have believed to be the one possible explanation for so long, but the more I mull things over, the harder it gets to deny that maybe, just maybe there is another option. As rash as Rose can be sometimes, she remains calm and just looks at me, a silent offer to be my sounding board if needed. And like so many times before I finally take her up on it. For whatever reason, it's always been easy for me to voice my thoughts around her - maybe because her rash and no nonsense way conveys the kind of brutal honesty so few people know how to handle well.
"I was just thinking, the whole mess back in early summer - I think Jazz did that entirely for Alice."
The look she deals me could have withered a mountain, but when she sees that I'm serious, Rose clears her throat.
"Isn't that what he has said himself before? To Bella at least?"
Momentarily I'm pissed off that she doesn't share my enthusiasm about this new revelation, but then I get where I've lost her.
"He said so much crap to so many people about that day, I'm not sure he himself can still keep his stories straight. But that's not entirely what I meant."
"Which is?"
I test the words in my head first, feeling my pulse pick up with the kind of elation only kids feel when they realize that they haven't been caught with the hand in the cookie jar after all.
"It really wasn't about us. Not about me. We were collateral damage, his tools in his stupid ploy to, I don't know, show her his devotion or something."
"You pretty much said the exact same thing before, repeating that won't really make me see it any better, you know?" she retorts, then when she sees me frown, Rose sighs. "E, just spell it out. We haven't really talked that much about your mess-up beyond how you were dealing with Bella regaining her trust in you. Maybe I just know too little about the whole picture."
As usual I feel the wave of desolation and self-loathing surge up inside of me, but it has seldom been so easy to battle it down.
"I guess."
It's still hard to give voice to these thoughts that have been rattling inside my head for so long.
"It's mainly that since that afternoon I've been raking my brain to come up for the reason why he hates me so much."
Even now acknowledging the sheer fact of that kind of rejection and betrayal is hard, but I force myself to keep eye contact with Rose, using the utter lack of judgement on her face to make myself go on.
"I mean, I can sometimes understand why he might have figured he was protecting her when he tried to force me to fess up about some of the things I had done that I hadn't told her back then. I should probably have told her about Chelsea before, but really, it was hard enough to rout out Bella's own insecurities that already existed without adding a whole new slew of them myself. But he knew how much she enjoyed herself, how well we worked together, I just couldn't understand how he could jump to the conclusions that I would ever pressure her into anything she didn't want to do herself."
"You mean, how could he f*ck you both if he was so convinced that you're such a monster."
My brief bark of laughter is answer enough for her, but I do her the courtesy of adding a nod.
"Yes. And let me f*ck him, too. But that's beside the point. I really spent all that time beating myself up how the guy who I've thought of as my best friend could think all that of me. Who knew me better than I know myself sometimes. It was so f*cking easy to believe that although what he said was bullshit, it was so easy for Bella to believe, even for a few hours, because there was more than just a grain of truth to it all."
The sadness in her eyes reflects what I feel inside, but unlike Bella she doesn't feel the need to comfort me.
"He made you doubt yourself, made you hate yourself, and that's why it took you so damn long to get your head out of your ass again."
"Yup."
Rose mulls that over for a moment, then shrugs.
"The fact that he used his two best friends and disregarded any emotional fallout that might come from that just to land with a girl doesn't exactly paint him in a better light than trying to protect Bella by proving to her what a bad egg you are."
"But it's so typically Jazz that I can't really stay mad at him for the rest of my life."
Her snort is loud enough to double as a scoff.
"And that's something I'd expect Bella to say, not you. You don't give anyone free hall passes like that."
"It's not like this makes anything that has happened better. But it makes me feel better, simply because I can justify wanting to stop jumping at my own shadow whenever he's around just because I expect him to drag the next blood-thirsty killer rabbit that's out to get me out of his imaginary hat."
Viewing things under this light also explains why he hasn't done anything to backstab me over the summer. Why he hasn't sicced Charlie at me at Bella's birthday party, why he has tried several times to strike up a light, meaningless conversation without trying to make me look like an ass - and also why he has never defended himself when I've gotten into his face like the defensive little f*cker I've been acting like. All that doesn't make up for the damage he has caused - but at the same time I'm finally able to accept a fact that has been weighing me down for a while now - as much as I want to punch him in the face for how he has made me feel, I just don't have it in me anymore to hate him. He might be a manipulative a*shole, but he has also been my best friend since college, and while I'll never be able to forget what he has done, I can maybe start to forgive him.
"I take it that's a good thing as you're not living inside a Monty Python's movie?"
"I'd say yes," I retort. Rose rewards me with a wise nod.
"Too bad, really, I was so hoping for a spectacular fight between you and him at some Christmas party or other. I know, wishful thinking, but a girl can dream."
"You're watching too much second-rate TV shows if you actually expect something like that to happen."
"Oh, the showdown between Bella and Alice in the bathroom in spring would have made screen writers weep!"
"But you will agree that it would only have been half as much fun without your revelation about your own devious sex life."
"So true," she laughs, then smiles over her shoulder in the direction of the nursery. "Nothing beats real scandal!"
"By then Alice and Jazz will have moved on anyway."
"Of course they will. Probably sooner than we expect, I don't really think either of them is the type to wallow in silence for months. Oh, wait, actually no one I know except you would ever do that!"
"So nice of you to bask in my past misery once again."
"Ah, Eddie, come on, you're about the only one in our nice circle of friends who gets laid right now, you can take a little scorn from me!"
"Actually that's not necessarily the truth," I retort, earning an eye roll from her.
"Why, does the mean hospital keep you away from your sweet Bella? Or is it the bogeyman on your couch that's got your panties all in a twist?"
"Neither, actually. The missus just doesn't feel comfortable with her BFF
possibly listening in on us getting it on."
Rose's laugh is loud enough to make her clap her hand over her mouth in fear that she has woken up the baby, but when we don't hear her crying, she sighs, then shakes her head.
"You don't really believe that that would stop her?"
"It's what she's told me, at least. And why should she lie to me?"
"Maybe it's simply not the whole truth?" she offers, and I can't shake off the feeling that Rose knows more than she seems to want to tell me.
Interesting, and somewhat disconcerting. Just when I want to ask her about it, her phone rings, which in turn does wake up Mona, and the following fifteen minutes of us trying to coerce her back into sleep about conclude that conversation. I still stay over midday and get some take-out for both of us, but our banter never quite gets back to the topic of what might or might not be going on with Bella.
When I finally leave her to nursing her baby with the promise to drop by soon again my mind returns to pondering that question again. I don't really know how to react, partly because I'm not sure if there's really anything going on. I don't even want to suspect that she's lying - also not by omission - but I can't shut off the concerned boyfriend part of me. Then again I can't rule out that I'm simply overthinking things, and she's just too tired and stressed with work, Jazz staying over, and me adding our own special kind of pressure to her life. In the end I decide to just trust that she will come to me with whatever is troubling her, if it's something I can help her with. It's her life, and I don't have to be part of everything in it.
I'm only moderately surprised to find Jazz working on his laptop when I get home - against all odds his new business venture seems to be bringing in some contracts already. He absentmindedly returns my greeting, then keeps typing when I don't say anything else. I'm so used to either being alone or with Bella that sitting in the same room with him weirds me out after a while, and because the weather isn't too bad I decide to go for a run.
Yet before I can get off the couch I hear Jazz's chair scrape back.
"Hey, wanna go shoot some hoops? At least there's a basketball court down at the park around the corner, and I've never seen anyone play during the day there."
I'm a little surprised by his offer, but after a moment of hesitation nod.
"Sure, I think we've still got the ball stored somewhere here."
Back when we've been living at the house together we used to play a lot -
or sometimes just shoot hoops while talking, or getting drunk - and like with so many things of late it takes me actually hunting down the ball to realize how much I've missed those old habits. Ten minutes later we're at the court and find it deserted as expected. It's cold enough outside that we actually run, dribble and jump for real to keep warm, but that doesn't hamper our easy conversation.
After recounting pretty much every general sports event that I've missed during the last week for me Jazz seems to run out of topics, and when he scores five 3-pointers in a row I feel a little vindictive.
"I've run into Alice today."
He doesn't even glance my way but his next shot barely even hits the hoop before it bounces back, and I catch him roll his shoulders in what I know is a defensive gesture for him from the corner of my eye.
"I hope she's doing okay?"
He even sounds sincere, which makes me feel a little guilty for bringing up the topic, but when my next throw evens out the score I decide that it was worth it. And some time he'll actually have to face that she's still around.
"She seemed fine, if a little stressed. But I couldn't really tell because she ran off within the minute I showed up at Rose's."
"Always the little busy bee," he snorts, then does a slam-dunk by the book.
When he passes the ball back to me it hits my chest a little harder than necessary, but I ignore the silent challenge.
"Yeah, seems like she's too busy to talk to me at all, compared to half the city, including Jessica Stanley."
"So you finally checked your facebook?"
"Don't need to with people like Rose and you who can tell me any day what others post."
Jazz snorts, and accepts the ball back from me in momentary silence. I'm about to think he's going to change the topic when he starts idly bouncing the ball without moving, but after a few seconds he turns back to me, the ball all but forgotten.
"I've tried calling her, four times, but she doesn't pick up. Not that I'm surprised about that, but it's still-," he trails off there, then throws the ball, not even checking if he scores or not. The pain so plain on his face makes my stomach clench in sympathy, and I feel like an ass for even having brought up the subject. Then the moment passes, and he visibly shakes himself as if the motion can clear his head of whatever is lodged there.
When he goes on his voice is flat, deliberately void of emotion. "You know her - she'll move on, get over it, and in a few months from now it will be as if nothing ever happened. That's Alice in a nutshell."
I want to protest, defend her, call him a liar - but the sad truth is, he's right.
Jazz accepts my silent acknowledgement for what it is, then sighs.
"Maybe that's exactly what I should be doing, too. Move on, I mean. But I still love her, and although I know that what we had is over, I don't want to let go. And I have definitely seen too many chick flicks as my brain is able to spew out crap like that!"
Chuckling under my breath I accept the ball back from him.
"Obviously."
We both score a few points before Jazz speaks up again.
"Things seem to be pretty harmonic between you and Bells."
"As much as can be expected, yeah," I reply, then pointedly ignore the look he's shooting me.
"And there I always thought the 'as can be expected' is people's way of saying 'like f*cking crap, really'."
His remark makes me snort, and he shrugs when he sees me glance at him.
"Well, considering you've been staying over for what, nearly two weeks?
And we've only had sex once in the time because of my insane work schedule and Bella being all creeped out by you hanging out on our couch, I feel like saying 'f*cking crap' anyway."
"Seriously?"
The open surprise on his face makes me crack up.
"Trust me, that's one thing I wouldn't lie about."
"Yeah, like you're that great of a liar in the first place."
I don't even pretend that I haven't aimed the basketball to nearly hit his head for that, but Jazz takes it in stride with a grin. We keep up the light banter for a little while longer, before Jazz picks up the ball and turns to me.
"How about we hit one of the pubs around here? There must be a better place than freezing our balls off here in the cold."
"Sure, because a cold beer is the ideal thing to warm up with."
Ignoring my jibe, he throws the ball at me.
"You can drink it piss warm, too, if you want to."
"Like hell."
Ten minutes later we've found a bar that's open and not crammed with after work business people, and we settle down. After emptying half of my bottle in one go I get out my phone and write Bella a short text where we are if she wants to join us once she gets home from work. When I put the phone away I see Jazz follow the motion with his eyes, and at my questioning look he shrugs.
"I was just wondering if she'll show up or prefer to stay home, relishing not having me around."
"You're not that much of a nuisance."
His snort is short of derisive, but when I don't react he leans a little closer.
"Seriously, if my girl would cockblock me because of the guy crashing on the couch I would call him a lot more than that."
"Yeah, maybe I'm just gracious because I know that by the time you find your own place she's going to be so frustrated that I wouldn't be able to fend her off if I wanted to. Not that that's ever gonna happen."
He shakes his head laughing before he takes another sip.
"If you need me to be gone for a certain time on a certain day, just say so, Bella is cranky enough as it is, can't really justify being a real reason for that, too."
"Cranky?" I know that she's still somewhat reserved towards him, but I wouldn't have described her behavior like that.
"You know, terse, cool, takes most of what I say way too literal, stuff like that. Her way of expressing disapproval without even glaring for a second.
Although, come to think of it she does her share of glaring at me, too. But not the whole time, it comes and goes with her moods, and I have no idea what causes it."
At first I think he's joking, but Jazz remains completely serious. Not being around much of late cuts back on my chance to observe any of that myself, but it sounds about right from what I should have expected.
"Be glad Alice didn't break up with you a month ago, Bella wouldn't have let you stay over for more than a day back then."
He doesn't even look particularly baffled.
"I know, she's been acting like that ever since Rose had the baby. But shit, I really have no clue what I've done to incur her wrath like that."
Despite the seriousness of the topic his words paint a grin onto my face, but my mirth is mostly superficial, and heavy on the scorn side. Of course he picks up on that but takes it in silence, and after a few moments I clear my throat.
"Do you really wanna know?"
He nods, appropriately wary.
"If you know what's up, sure."
"Of course I know what's up with her." I don't even try to hide the scorn in my voice at the implication that I have no idea why my girlfriend is acting weird. Then again I'm not about to tell him just for the sake of gloating, not to make it easier for him to deal with her, but out of a certain amount of vindictive glee. If my revelation today with Rose has been right, I have every reason to rub his face in the fallout of the shit he has caused - and has probably not even realized exists.
Rolling my empty bottle between my palms, I stare at the green glass for a moment before I catch his gaze, steeling myself against trudging into a topic I haven't expected to be discussing with him ever.
"Remember your little prep talk that you gave her the week after our colossal f*ck-up?" I can be fair, he's not the only one to blame for it all.
Jazz nods, and I have to hold back a chuckle at the way he's suddenly all tensed up himself. "Obviously I don't know what exactly you told her because she doesn't like talking about it, but I know you were mostly trying to make her see that I'm a despicable a*shole because of the things I've done; the things I like to do. I think the reason why she pretty much shrugged it off back then was because she knew you were just spewing bullshit, and it wasn't like any of that really concerned her. But guess how remembering all that makes her feel now, half a year later when a pair of plush covered handcuffs makes her laugh rather than blush."
At first it's genuine confusion on his face, but then the meaning of my words sinks in.
"She can't really think that I meant her with all that? Bella knows me better than that!"
"Does she?"
"Of course she does!" he huffs, but I can see from his frown that he's starting to doubt his own words. There's a lot I could add - but I keep my tongue and instead get up to flag down the bartender. Armed with two fresh bottles of beer and a couple of darts I stop next to Jazz, then nod towards the darts board.
"Wanna play?"
He's downright grateful that I don't pick up the previous topic again. It's been a while since I've played but at least neither of us is too drunk yet to miss the board, although we're not shy to insult each other.
"So what else besides you quitting your job did I miss?" I finally steer the conversation to something else than my inability to hit the same fields consistently.
"Well, not much," he grunts, then squints at his own less than stellar result on the score board. "Much work, not much time for anything else with Alice flitting across the globe with her fashion shows. Guess the most noteworthy was that I met Jack Sullivan from college. Remember the guy who nearly blew up the dorm with his makeshift moonshine distillery?"
"A great moment for us all, and definitely unforgettable," I muse, lost in the memory for a moment.
"You at least didn't get busted for smoking pot! I still can't believe they just let you walk away like that when you'd so obviously had more than just a contact high!"
"Yeah, that was pretty funny. I think I laughed my ass off for hours."
Jazz scowls at my grin for a moment, then cracks up himself.
"It was! Ah, good times."
We finish the next round in amicable silence, then get another round of beers.
"Anything new on your side, except for you calling off the wedding?"
I shrug.
"Not really. And I can't say I resent my life being kinda boring."
"No one ever really does," he grunts, then throws a couple more darts that barely hit the board. "I've really missed this, you know? Us just hanging out, getting a couple of beers, stuff like that."
"Me too," I admit, a little surprised just how much that's the truth. Jazz seems to have expected a different answer, or at least a scathing remark from me, but when neither comes he relaxes visibly as he empties his bottle.
"How about we switch to something stronger?"
"Tequila?"
"Always."
We abandon the dart board for the bar, and a few shots later the somewhat stop and go of our conversation soon runs into a continuous if not quite coherent string of anecdotes and wise-cracks. By the time we finally go home we're both no longer steady on our feet, and Bella greets us with a frown and a laugh.
"Drunk and sweaty, do you even need to ask why I didn't drop in when I got your text?"
I find her snide remark as funny as it gets, which makes it obvious just how drunk I really am, but don't protest when she herds me off into the bathroom upstairs after wishing Jazz a good night. I'm not surprised but still grumpy that she doesn't respond favorably to my less than subtle attempt to seduce her, but like before I accept that she doesn't want to have sex -
for now.
The next morning going to work is helll- the combination of sexual frustration, a light hangover and some residual soreness in my muscles makes me less than happy to leave the bed, and the following killer shifts at the hospital don't help to improve my mood. The only thing that keeps me going is the promise that between the day before Thanksgiving until Black Friday afternoon I'm going to be off rotation so that I can at least see my family again. And maybe guilt-trip Bella into a booty call or two if we haven't gotten rid of Jasper until then.
The few days until then all blur together, and when I finally make it home for my fifty hours of freedom it's already late afternoon. Neither Bella nor Jazz are in so I go straight to bed, and it feels like only seconds later when the loud bang of the door downstairs falling into the lock startles me awake again. I'm about to roll over and pretend I'm not awake when I hear someone running up the stairs. A moment later the door bursts open and Bella comes charging in, grumbling under her breath. She sees me blink at her groggily, and the next thing I know she's on me, her lips pressed hard enough against mine to bruise.
My mind hasn't caught up yet when she's already done yanking off my t-shirt somehow, then her hands are inside my boxer briefs, and what minimal thought capacity I've had flees when her hot, wet mouth slides down on my cock. I moan as my eyes close again on their own account, convinced that this must be a dream my frustrated mind has come up with out of sheer frustration.
Then her mouth is gone, leaving me grumpy for a moment as that just underscores my dream theory, but when I open my eyes again Bella is still there, only now busy literally tearing her clothes off. I'm still amazed how fast she can get out of her jeans when she's crawling upwards and over me, the heat of her body enticingly close. A critical look down and she wraps her hand around my cock, stroking me fast and determined while her eyes are fixed on mine. I can't read the look on her face, partly because all the remaining blood in my head is rushing south very fast, and I abandon the seemingly inconsequential attempt when she lets go of my dick with a grunted, "Should be sufficient."
My hands find her hips just as she leans towards me, her mouth hungry against mine. She doesn't protest when I pull her close, in fact she rolls her hips against mine so that my now hard cock slides along her p-ssy lips. But then she stops, one hand pressed against my chest as she props herself up there, her eyes again intent on my face.
"No games. No begging, teasing, whatever, I just need you, and I need you now, I can't -"
A small voice in the back of my head tells me to let her go on but my mind isn't the part of me that's in control now, and instead of heeding that advice I pull her head down to devour her mouth, then flip us over so that I'm crouching over her. She lets out a throaty chuckle when I grip her hips to hold her down for a moment, then thrust into her, relishing how her body yields to mine.
More groping and sloppy kissing ensues, but before long she pushes against my shoulders until I let her roll us over again so she's perching on top of me, her hips grinding against mine while her p-ssy grips my cock hard.
"If you don't mind, I'm gonna be on top. As much as I love you f*cking the living shit out of me, right now you're just not doing a good enough job of that."
Her words, together with the raising of one brow, make me crack up, but I don't protest when she starts bouncing up and down on me.
"Excuse me if I'm not living up to your high standards, but I don't remember the last two consecutive hours I've slept through."
"Yeah, that's why all you need to do is lie back and let me do the work," she laughs, then grabs my hands and brings them to her tits, squeezing them until I get the hint.
"If this is what happens when you don't get to f*ck for weeks, I should take advantage of that more often."
Bella makes a face at my words, but the frown leaves her features when I stoke her nipples with my thumbs, making her moan. The piercing are healing well and I can tell that she's still very sensitive, not exactly a bad thing as I see it. She increases her pace, then shifts so that her torso is slightly reclined, her fingers digging into my thighs behind her body. I let go of her right tit to reach down and start rubbing her * instead, drawing a most satisfying "F*ck!" from her.
She's close to coming, and so am I, and I love getting lost in the moment of crazed need and lust - when suddenly the bedroom door swings open, admitting a somewhat distraught looking Jazz. My brain stutters to a halt and time seems to slow down in that comic way it always does in the movies, but somehow I can still see what is going on with clarity.
"Bella? I know you don't wanna talk to me right now, but, look, I know I've been acting like a complete a*shole. And if you want to punch me again, go ahead, I know I deserve it for being such a delusional fool, but you can't just ignore what I've said -"
That's when he finally looks up, and taking us in as we are, stops short.
Panic races through me but it's as if my brain is still disconnected from my body as I can't move, which is probably a good thing right now. I still tense up, waiting for Bella to do something instead - scream, shout, throw something at him, hide under the bed - but when I can finally drag my eyes from Jazz gawking at us to her, my level of confusion only rises. She is completely calm with her eyes fixed on Jasper- except for her heavy breathing from exertion, her whole body shaking slightly with every deep breath she takes - but it's the look in her eyes that twists something in my guts.
There is no confusion there, nor reproach, only a hint of simmering anger -
but as I keep watching it slowly leaks from her, gets swallowed by the predominant emotion present - lust. And that's when I realize that she's not horrified at all that he has barged in on us. Neither am I, I have to admit, and the reason I can tell so easily what's going on inside of her is because the look on her face resonates with something deep inside of me that I've tried so hard to keep locked up and buried.
Jasper clearing his throat finally shakes me out of my brain freeze.
"I ... I'm sorry, I didn't know you were ... ah -"
"Get the f*ck out of here!"
My words come out flat and hollow, and after another stutter of something unintelligible Jazz finally gets the hint and walks out backwards, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the room with a final quality to it. My head snaps around back to Bella, and her gaze is defiant when I catch it.
"I think it's obvious that we really have to talk," is what she finally says, frustration heavy in her voice. And f*ck, I'm really starting to hate these words.