Hot Bubblegum by SoapyMayhem
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
0. . . oO•.o.Hot Bubblegum.o.•Oo . . .0
*\o\Edward Masen Cullen/o/*
"You can talk to me, Bella... please tell me what's wrong," I told her, because apparently I wasn't above begging.
What a fucking chump.
"It's just... we had such a great time... but I'm probably not who you think I am, and I just think it's best if maybe we just leave it at this. I plan on coming back for you to finish my tattoo, but that's it," she replied, her voice getting icier with every syllable that left her lips.
Reluctantly, I pulled back, knowing I probably wouldn't be able to reach her now.
"I really like you, Bella, or at least the girl I've been talking to all day - the one who surprised me, made me laugh, made me hard - the girl who blushed when I kissed her, and gave me a sexy as hell strip tease. If that girl wasn't you, then I honestly don't know what to say," I argued, feeling oddly exhausted.
She still couldn't look at me, and worse yet, she began getting dressed.
Fuck, she's still gonna leave.
"I want to get to know you," I whispered as a final effort. It felt too weak too vulnerable but I was feeling particularly desperate at the moment.
"Then I hope you like disappointment," she grumbled before stepping into her sneakers.
This whole time I'd been thinking that she just wasn't as in to me as I was to her, but that last comment had me reeling. The whole porn star theory had, for the most part escaped my mind, but now, the way she was being defensive, it made me wonder.
"I don't know what to think, Bella. Is it your job?" I asked, wondering if it was the cause for her sudden mood swing.
If that's what she was, then I had no problem dating a former porn star - if anything, I'd have something to brag about. You'd be a fucking jealous bastard, and you know it.
My question must have struck a nerve because her face went as pale as a sheet.
"I think you should find out who I am, and then if you still want my number, I'll give it to you, but I'm not gonna hold my breath," she grumbled before walking toward the front of the shop.
I was about to follow her out, but I realized I was still standing there as naked as the day I was born.
"Bella," I shouted, grabbing my t-shirt to hide my flaccid cock.
Thankfully, I made to the front before she was completely out the door.
"When will I see you again?" I asked, panting, more out of anxiety than exertion.
"Like I said - I'll be back in two weeks," she replied, her voice strained. It didn't escape my notice that she didn't turn around, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she was crying.