Bella P.O.V
I couldn't believe him for making me wear this horrible shirt just so he can escort me back to my house that's just across the street. Maybe, yeah, my dress is short but doesn't mean my neighbors that spend their mornings on the yards are going to look at me. I mean, c'mon, most of the people that live in this neighborhood are families.
I push the door open and let Edward in behind me.
"Um, can I ask you something?" I look at him. He looks around my house, studying it.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Where are we going?" I ask, looking at his clothing. I'm just curious from where did that Audi come from and that clothing that obviously looks from designer.
"It's an elegant restaurant, so go and put on something nice. Also, something appropriate."
I laugh. "Yeah, like you're my father." I roll my eyes.
"I'm serious, Bella," his voice makes me stop right at the first step of the stairs. "Wear something appropriate."
I cross my arms and look at him. "You're not my fucking dad, but, okay. I'm not a whore either."
I run back upstairs. He can't tell me what to wear or what not, he has no right. He'll make me, yeah fucking right!
I start the shower while I look at my closet filled with clothes deciding what to wear to a elegant restaurant like he said. I look over the piles of clothes and find my cherry red shirt with a black skirt and my boots. I do my wavy hair down my shoulders. Put eyeliner and lipstick on, and I'm ready to go.
"Is this appropriate enough for you?" I asked, walking down the stairs.
Edward stands next to the trash can where his flowers are. He looks back at me with an eyebrow raise. My throat goes dry and my knees feel like jello.
"You didn't like my flowers?" He asked.
"I was mad at you," I said, "or so I thought."
"Mm," he said. "I'll send you new ones."
"No, don't," I said, alarmed. He raises both eyebrows at me. "Um, I mean, I'm already here, aren't I? You don't need the flowers to get me."
His crooked smile appears as he walked up to me. He steps at the last step so we're both at the same height. His soft hand takes my hair and pulls it behind my ear and slides down to my cheek then to my lips. I gasped, closing my eyes at electrical feeling his touch caused me. His finger slowly stroked my lower lip.
"A women like you deserves flowers and even more," he said.
I smiled. "That's really kind but, it's okay. I don't need flowers."
He shakes his head and takes my hand. The Audi is still parked there, in front of his place. I can't help but wonder how he got that car. Or his clothing.
"Where did this come from?" I asked him when he opened the passenger door.
"What you need to know," he said, closing the door. He walks around the car and gets in his side.
"What exactly are you going to tell me about you," I say, annoyed. "Is there anything about you I'm aloud to know?"
He sighed, pulling out of the drive way, but, he doesn't answer my question. That starts to frustrate me, making me wonder if I did the right choice of letting him in my life. I don't want to be with a guy who won't tell me who he is, I guess it's just not right. It makes me feel this weird feeling in my stomach.
The whole drive to the restaurant it's quiet, only with Sam Smith singing in the background Stay With Me. I lay back, looking at the people walk under the cloudy morning of a Wednesday. Of course, there was people who stopped to take a look at the Audi, some of them waved to us. In some occasions, I take a quick glance at Edward. His expression is hard to read, I can't tell if he's thinking or if he's just mad at my question.
Minutes later after getting off the freeway, we arrived at La Villa de Bella. I've read about this place, it's like a Spanish restaurant. People say it's extremely expensive.
"Welcome to La Villa de Bella," a blond women came up to us. Her eyes immediately were about to pop out once they laid on Edward. "For two?"
"Booth, please," Edward said.
She nodded, not getting that flirty smile off her face. "Right this way, Sir."
She leads us across the Spanish decorated restaurant, where the waiters dress in white with a black robe around their waste. The tables are round with the plates gently placed and candles in the center. The floors are pure dark brown wood, shining at the point where the candles hanging from the ceiling reflect on it.
We finally reach our table.
"Your waiter will be right with you," she smiled at Edward, snarled at me.
Edward took a step back, letting me sit down first and he sits next to me. He places his hand on my thigh under the table, giving it a tight squeeze.
I look at him while he examines the menu, his expression still unreadable. I wonder how old is he, he may be late twenties or early thirties. There are no imperfections on his face, just perfect.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"Why?" He asked, not looking at me.
"Curious," I simply say.
He sighed, letting the menu down and looking at me with a poker face. My back immediately tenses. I look back at him, waiting for an answer.
"Twenty-five."
I shake my head. "You seem older."
He rolled his eyes at me. "What you need to know, Bella." He grabs the menu again and starts reading it again.
I sigh, looking away. "I'm starting to think I'm not allowed to know anything about you, what's the whole point?"
He lets the menu down again and stares at me. A little V starts to form in between his eyebrows. "Point of what?" He asked.
"The point of me being here?" I say, laying back on the booth. I close my eyes and try to calm down the nerves that invade my body.
His warm hand takes my hand and kisses it. "Not now," he said.
"Then when? I just asked you how old are you, it's not like you could be as old as my grandfather."
He looked back at me and says, "I'm twenty-seven, Bella, happy?"
"Sort of," I murmur under my breath, taking the menu.
I can't be here, this man won't be honest with me, I know he won't. I know, I have that feeling that he would end up breaking my heart, though I'm not sure how exactly I feel about him.
A tall, obviously gay, waiter comes up to us and says, "Oh, well hello to you," he grins at Edward. "I'm Mario, I'll be your waiter. What would you like to drink, handsome?"
"I'll have coffee, no sugar," Edward said.
Mario writes it down and looks at me. "Oh, my God, that shirt is fabulous."
"Thank you," I blused.
"You're really pretty, your boyfriend is also really handsome."
I blushed again. "No, he's not my-" I get cut off by Edward squeezing my thigh really hard.
"She'll have a cranberry juice," Edward said.
"Alright, I'll be right back, chicos!" Mario leaves with a big smile on his face.
I like him.
"I'm not your boyfriend?" Edward asked, looking at me.
"You didn't ask," I shrugged my shoulders. "Plus, seems like you have an admirer."
He turns his body towards me and leans over to me. I'm surprised when I see a playful grin on his face. "I don't care about him, or other women in this place, Bella," he whispered in my ear. "Only you."
I shiver and back away. Apparently, not liking my movement, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me closer to him.
"Don't, Bella," he says, kissing my cheek. "So, do I have to ask you if you want to be my girlfriend? I don't think it's necessary, plus, because we already slept together two times. One of which we were both sober and had sex."
"Edward!" I blushed. I look away and grin, two can play this game. "Then, what? You think that after getting laid with me, I belong to you."
He sighed. "Yes."
I shake my head. "No, Sir. I slept with Mike once and that didn't mean I belonged to him."
"Of course, not," he grinned. "I paid Mike a visit and told him you were mine."
What?
"You did what?" I asked, not being able to hide my surprise.
His grin grew even more and said, "After our first night, I figured out where Mike worked, obviously same place you met him and told him that you were mine."
"You can't do that," I snapped, "I never talked to him again."
"And, never will," he replied. "So, do you need me to convince you that we're together or do you understand?"
Those are my two choices. Knowing this man, the little that I do, I know that he will always give me two choices. One, is the one that will be easier for me. Second, the one that will be easier his way.
"When you say convince-"
He pinches my cheek and grins. "I'm not always telling people what I plan." Okay, I'm pretty sure I don't want that.
"Alright, we're together," I give in.
His lips meet mine for a short second and backs away when Mario comes with our drinks.
February 15, 2015
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~Joan0324