Southern Comfort: Chapter 14

Southern Comfort

Chapter 14

"Got any sevens?"

….

"Edward?"

….

"Edward!" I yell.

He jumps almost losing his grip on the cards in his hand. "What?"

"Do you have any sevens?"

"Oh. No, go fish," he chuckles as his cheeks grow red.

"Where were you?" I poke his foot with mine.

"Nowhere. Just distracted," he mumbles.

"Oh no... now you have to tell me," I demand. He shakes his head and lowers it. "Oh no, sir." I pinch his leg with my toes. "You better tell me before I start guessing and we both know how wild my imagination can get."

"You're wearing my boxers, Bella," he confesses, his cheeks now a brilliant red, making him look absolutely adorable.

"So. I wear your boxers all the time."

"Yeah, but back then you weren't mine." His hand shoots out and grasps my ankle.

I yelp as he yanks me across the bed so that I'm practically in his lap. He runs his hand up my leg and I thank God I shaved last night before I passed out because that would be embarrassing. His boxers are big on me in the waist area, so I had to fold them over a couple of times to make them fit, making them shorter than average. I grow heated as his hand skirts against the hem of the leg.

"Back then I could look, but I couldn't touch." His nose skims against mine. "I could fantasize, but I couldn't act on it." His lips are against mine. "I could imagine, but I couldn't taste."

Oh, dear Lord, this man is something else.

Before I can say anything, he's pulling me into a dominating kiss and I forget to breathe. Who needs air when they can have Edward Cullen?

He pulls the chopsticks out of my hair and it falls down my back. My arms wrap around his shoulders, my hands braiding into the hair on the nape of his neck as our tongues collide. My body is telling me to continue and give in to the evident lust we share, but the logical side is warning me that we need to slow down before we get ahead of ourselves. Sure we've known each other for forever and a day, but jumping in the sack isn't a smart move.

Luckily Edward and I are pretty much one in the same and he pulls back a little. Our passionate sexy make out session fizzles out into a sweet and tender kiss. His hands are no longer on my legs, but instead they sit comfortably on my hips.

We've eaten our cobbler and watched an old movie that neither of us had seen in years. We'd gone from sipping cheap wine to a couple of rum and cokes, so it's decided that I'll be spending the night.

We're not drunk, but I've got a great buzz going and I'm thankful both of us are on the same page because a couple of more drinks and I'd lose my level headed demeanor. I had changed into a pair of his underwear and a shirt I'd left over here at some point. Rather than turning on another movie, Edward had pulled out a deck of cards and asked if I wanted to play, which leads us to this moment.

"I think it's safe to say that I won that round," he chuckles, peeling a card off of my thigh that I didn't realize was there. "There's that seven you were looking for."

"Hardy har har." I roll my eyes, snatching the card from him and shoving it into the pack.

Edward pulls the edge of the blanket out from under the pillows and we both climb inside the warmth.

"I don't think I've ever laid down for bed at eight PM. Even when I was a kid," he chuckles, hugging me to his body.

I cuddle into his embrace. "Me neither."

"So as far as dates go, how did we do tonight?" he asks after a couple of minutes of silence.

"You got me in your bed on the first date. I think we can say it went pretty well." We laugh. "Wanna turn on a movie?" I ask, tracing the outline of the tattoo above his heart.

Edward's not wearing a shirt. I'm used to it though. Ever since he was little he can't sleep with a shirt on. I'm not complaining.

"Why? Am I boring you?" He grabs my hand and kisses it.

"No. I'm worried that I'm boring you."

"Hmm, well you're lying in my bed, wearing my underwear. How would that bore me?"

"'Cause nothing is going to happen," I press. "And I've laid in your bed with you before."

"But this time it's different, woman. You're not my platonic friend anymore." His hand trails down my back and caresses the curve of my ass. "You're lying in my bed, in my arms."

"I like it," I mumble, resisting the urge to arch against his touch.

"Me, too."

We fall into a peaceful silence, but I'm not ready to go to sleep just yet. "Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"How different do you think it would have been if we'd confessed our feelings for each other back then?"

"Well if we'd confessed, I reckon we'd have dated for a while." His hand is rubbing my back, but starts trailing upwards. "Maybe moved into an apartment together." He grasps my left hand in his. "I definitely would have proposed by now. So if everything went well and you said yes, we'd probably be married by now. Maybe starting a family if we hadn't already."

His words hold so much truth. It makes my heart ache that at this point in time I could have had the American dream had I not been such a chicken shit.

"I would have said yes," I whisper thickly. "And you bet your ass we'd have the family you've always dreamed of."

"We will have it, Bells."

"What if I want it right now?" I blurt out before I can catch myself.

We both freeze. We both stop breathing.

But I know it's true. I want it all.

I want to move Edward into my house so that we fall asleep like this every night whether it's eight o'clock at night or three in the morning. I want the southern wedding I know he deserves and the bittersweet honeymoon. I want to be impatiently pacing the bathroom floor waiting for the timer to go off, to watch him shakily pick up the small white stick that would foresee our near futures. And it doesn't scare me that I want it right now. It only scares me that he might not.

Eventually we're able to find our bearings. I'm a little shaken, but Edward seems fine. He takes my hands in his and kisses my lips before whispering, "Then I'd say okay."