La Cantante

Boning ... Pictures ... Wedding?

"We'll handle it, Isabelly," Emmett said with a grin. I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my fiancé's hair. We pulled up to our hotel and I scrambled out. Emmett dragged Edward out by his arms and Jasper grabbed his feet. They managed to stand him up. He groaned and swayed. Emmett sighed and heaved Edward over his shoulder. "You're so much lighter than him, Isabelly. I'd rather carry your drunk ass home."

"You were the schmoes who kept pouring alcohol down his throat," I said, shooting my older brother a look. "How many shots did he have?"

"Twelve? Plus the five beers we had waiting for you," Jasper replied. "Oh, and the White Russian, too!" We piled into the elevator and road up to our floor. I pulled out my key and walked down the hallway

"God," I groaned. "No wonder he was so 'horny.'"

"Yeah, I saw what he did to you," Emmett snarled. He bumped into the wall, lightly banging Edward's head against the chair rail. Edward moaned and he shuffled on Emmett's shoulder. "Oops."

"Emmett," I growled. I got to our room and opened it up. Emmett threw Edward onto the bed with a smack across the head. I swung my purse at my older brother and then kicked him out with my heeled shoe. Emmett guffawed and danced out of the room. I turned back to Edward and he was lying, spread eagled on the bed. "Ugh, how do I change him? Edward, this is the last time you get this drunk, so help me I will whoop your ass."

I went to change into a pair of pajamas. I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I took out my contacts and removed my makeup, trying to formulate a plan of attack on undress my unconscious, drunk, HEAVY fiancé. I finished my nightly routine and stood at the foot of the bed. Edward was snoring loudly. His hat was askew on his head and his legs were spread over the entire lower half of the king sized bed.

"Oh fuck it," I grumbled. I straddled his waist and perched above him. I smacked his cheeks. "Yo! Drunk boy! Wake your ass up!" I yelled.

He groaned but didn't rouse. Son of a bitch... "Edward!" I shouted in his face.

"Shut it, woman, I'm fucking tired," he mumbled.

"So am I and you're hogging the bed, drunkard. Get up so you can change, take out our contacts and drink some water," I said. "Don't make me twist your nipples."

Edward opened his eyes and looked around. "How did I get back here?" he asked.

"You kind of passed out at the bar," I said flatly. "Lush."

"It's my birthday," he grumbled.

"And you'll get tanked if you want to," I sighed.

"Okay, if I'm going to get up to change, take out my contacts and drink some water, you need to move. You're on my bladder and I need to pee," he said, arching a brow. I gave him a sardonic look and got up off his lap. Edward ran to the bathroom and took care of business. I crawled into bed. I rolled on my side and closed my eyes. Edward slid in and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry about passing out."

"You only turn twenty-one once, Edward," I yawned. "It was funny seeing you hanging from Emmett's shoulder."

"Great," Edward said dryly. "And why do I have a bruise on my left temple?"

"Emmett...he saw you, you know..." I blushed.

"Finger you in a bar filled with a ton of people?" Edward snickered.

"Yeah," I answered. "He ran into the chair rail."

"I deserved it," Edward sighed.

"Oh, I forgot your present, Edward," I said. He popped his head up. I skulked out of the bed and grabbed my card. Edward turned on the bedside lamp and opened it. His widened as he read my cheesy handmade gift certificate. "Well?"