Chapter Thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen

After dropping off Bella's car at her condo, Edward drove them to the coffee shop. Once he helped her into his Bronco, they weaved their fingers together, unable to keep apart. "You're quiet, love," Edward said as he pulled out of the garage.

"I have a lot to say. I'm just trying to put into order," she replied. "Angela teased me that I was too inside my head."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Edward said, kissing her knuckles. "Being overly impulsive can be detrimental. Emmett has several tattoos that were etched into his skin impulsively. He's got a pretty good likeness of Yogi Berra tattooed on his left butt cheek."

"A cartoon bear?" Bella giggled.

"No, the baseball legend ... 'It ain't over, til it's over'," Edward snickered. "Emmett played baseball and was a catcher until his knees told him otherwise. Anyway, after one game, Emmett and his fellow teammates wanted to get tattoos. Only, everyone else chickened out. Emmett volunteered to go first and he proudly wanted to show off a gorgeous portrait on his ass, but his teammates were gone. Unfortunately, he didn't learn from his mistake. He got a few other tattoos. One he had to get because he lost a bet. A pair of chicken wings on his back."

"Chicken wings ... with feathers?" Bella asked.

"No feathers," Edward snorted. "The third one was given to him when he was passed out drunk while out for a friend's bachelor party. In an Olde English font, above his junk, they put the words 'I'm awesome'. It was misspelled deliberately: A-W-S-O-M-E."

"Why doesn't he get them removed?" Bella laughed as Edward pulled into the parking lot next to the coffee shop.

He turned off the car after he parked. "Emmett likes to think of his tattoos, no matter how he got them, as badges of honor. If anything, he'd get them covered or reworked. You've met him. Emmett takes things as they come. Very easy-going and quick to joke."

"This is true," Bella giggled. "Rose said that Emmett's humor is one of his most attractive qualities."

Edward got out of the car, helping Bella out of the Bronco. They walked into the coffee shop and ordered their usual. Settling into their booth, Edward sipped his coffee. "I came in here every morning, hoping that I'd run into you," he admitted quietly.

"Yeah, I avoided this place," Bella grimaced. "I got my caffeine addiction from a cart inside the hospital. Since sleeping didn't really happen, I needed a coffee IV. When it did happen, I was passed out ... alcohol helped me achieve numbness."

"Bella," Edward frowned.

"Can you let me talk? You had your chance, but I need to get all of this out of my brain. It's still not in order, but I want you to understand why I freaked the fuck out," she snorted humorlessly. She took another sip of her coffee, wishing it was stronger. "You have brothers. How's your relationship with them? Are you close?"

"Not as close as I used to be, but we love each other," Edward answered. "Even when I moved away, we kept in touch. Emails, texts, brief phone calls."

Bella sighed, idly turning the coffee cup on the wooden table. "Imagine if one of your brothers died. It would shatter you, right?"

"It would shatter anyone," Edward frowned.

"Angela, she was my twin. We shared everything, even a face. She was my person, the one person that I trusted above everyone else. Every secret, every joy, every moment of sadness, every accomplishment, we shared. Hell, we even came up with our own language," Bella sniffled. "It was completely nonsensical, but it was ours.

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