I opened my eyes and found his open, too, staring at my face. It made no sense when he looked at me that way. Like I was the prize rather than the outrageously lucky winner.
Our gazes locked for a moment; his golden eyes were so deep that I imagined I could see all the way into his soul. It seemed silly that this fact—the existence of his soul—had ever been in question, even if he was a vampire. He had the most beautiful soul, more beautiful than his brilliant mind or his incomparable face or his glorious body.
He looked back at me as if he could see my soul, too, and as if he liked what he saw.
He couldn’t see into my mind, though, the way he saw into everyone else’s. Who knew why—some strange glitch in my brain that made it immune to all the extraordinary and frightening things some immortals could do. (Only my mind was immune; my body was still subject to vampires with abilities that worked in ways other than Edward’s.) But I was seriously grateful to whatever malfunction it was that kept my thoughts a secret. It was just too embarrassing to consider the alternative.
I pulled his face to mine again.
“Definitely staying,” he murmured a moment later.
“No, no. It’s your bachelor party. You have to go.”
I said the words, but the fingers of my right hand locked into his bronze hair, my left pressed tighter against the small of his back. His cool hands stroked my face.
“Bachelor parties are designed for those who are sad to see the passing of their single days. I couldn’t be more eager to have mine behind me. So there’s really no point.”
“True.” I breathed against the winter-cold skin of his throat.
This was pretty close to my happy place. Charlie slept obliviously in his room, which was almost as good as being alone. We were curled up on my small bed, intertwined as much as it was possible, considering the thick afghan I was swathed in like a cocoon. I hated the necessity of the blanket, but it sort of ruined the romance when my teeth started chattering. Charlie would notice if I turned the heat on in August. . . .
At least, if I had to be bundled up, Edward’s shirt was on the floor. I never got over the shock of how perfect his body was—white, cool, and polished as marble. I ran my hand down his stone chest now, tracing across the flat planes of his stomach, just marveling. A light shudder rippled through him, and his mouth found mine again. Carefully, I let the tip of my tongue press against his glass-smooth lip, and he sighed. His sweet breath washed—cold and delicious—over my face.
He started to pull away—that was his automatic response whenever he decided things had gone too far, his reflex reaction whenever he most wanted to keep going. Edward had spent most of his life rejecting any kind of physical gratification. I knew it was terrifying to him trying to change those habits now.
“Wait,” I said, gripping his shoulders and hugging myself close to him. I kicked one leg free and wrapped it around his waist. “Practice makes perfect.”
He chuckled. “Well, we should be fairly close to perfection by this point, then, shouldn’t we? Have you slept at all in the last month?”
“But this is the dress rehearsal,” I reminded him, “and we’ve only practiced certain scenes. It’s no time for playing safe.”
I thought he would laugh, but he didn’t answer, and his body was motionless with sudden stress. The gold in his eyes seemed to harden from a liquid to a solid.
I thought over my words, realized what he would have heard in them.
“Bella…,” he whispered.
“Don’t start this again,” I said. “A deal’s a deal.”
“I don’t know. It’s too hard to concentrate when you’re with me like this. I—I can’t think straight. I won’t be able to control myself. You’ll get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Bella . . .”
“Shh!” I pressed my lips to his to stop his panic attack. I’d heard it before. He wasn’t getting out of this deal. Not after insisting I marry him first.
He kissed me back for a moment, but I could tell he wasn’t as into it as before. Worrying, always worrying. How different it would be when he didn’t need to worry about me anymore. What would he do with all his free time? He’d have to get a new hobby.
“How are your feet?” he asked.
Knowing he didn’t mean that literally, I answered, “Toasty warm.”
“Really? No second thoughts? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Are you trying to ditch me?”
He chuckled. “Just making sure. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not sure about.”
“I’m sure about you. The rest I can live through.”
He hesitated, and I wondered if I’d put my foot in my mouth again.
“Can you?” he asked quietly. “I don’t mean the wedding—which I am positive you will survive despite your qualms—but afterward… what about Renée, what about Charlie?”
I sighed. “I’ll miss them.” Worse, that they would miss me, but I didn’t want to give him any fuel.
“Angela and Ben and Jessica and Mike.”
“I’ll miss my friends, too.” I smiled in the darkness. “Especially Mike. Oh, Mike! How will I go on?”
He growled.
I laughed but then was serious. “Edward, we’ve been through this and through this. I know it will be hard, but this is what I want. I want you, and I want you forever. One lifetime is simply not enough for me.”
“Frozen forever at eighteen,” he whispered.
“Every woman’s dream come true,” I teased.
“Never changing… never moving forward.”
“What does that mean?”
He answered slowly. “Do you remember when we told Charlie we were getting married? And he thought you were… pregnant?”
“And he thought about shooting you,” I guessed with a laugh. “Admit it—for one second, he honestly considered it.”
He didn’t answer.
“What, Edward?”
“I just wish… well, I wish that he’d been right.”
“Gah,” I gasped.
“More that there was some way he could have been. That we had that kind of potential. I hate taking that away from you, too.”
It took me a minute. “I know what I’m doing.”
“How could you know that, Bella? Look at my mother, look at my sister. It’s not as easy a sacrifice as you imagine.”
“Esme and Rosalie get by just fine. If it’s a problem later, we can do what Esme did—we’ll adopt.”
He sighed, and then his voice was fierce. “It’s not right! I don’t want you to have to make sacrifices for me. I want to give you things, not take things away from you. I don’t want to steal your future. If I were human—”
I put my hand over his lips. “You are my future. Now stop. No moping, or I’m calling your brothers to come and get you. Maybe you need a bachelor party.”
“I’m sorry. I am moping, aren’t I? Must be the nerves.”
“Are your feet cold?”
“Not in that sense. I’ve been waiting a century to marry you, Miss Swan. The wedding ceremony is the one thing I can’t wait—” He broke off mid-thought. “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy!”
“What’s wrong?”
He gritted his teeth. “You don’t have to call my brothers. Apparently Emmett and Jasper are not going to let me bow out tonight.”
I clutched him closer for one second and then released him. I didn’t have a prayer of winning a tug-of-war with Emmett. “Have fun.”
There was a squeal against the window—someone deliberately scraping their steel nails across the glass to make a horrible, cover-your-ears, goose-bumps-down-your-spine noise. I shuddered.
“If you don’t send Edward out,” Emmett—still invisible in the night—hissed menacingly, “we’re coming in after him!”
“Go,” I laughed. “Before they break my house.”
Edward rolled his eyes, but he got to his feet in one fluid movement and had his shirt back on in another. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.