AN: So. Hi. We're AHelm and SorceressCirce. AH is the primary writer on this little gem. SC will be the primary writer on the sequel that we are already planning, but this and any following story is a co-authored effort. We feel compelled to give this disclaimer.
No, these aren't our characters. And Stephenie Meyer would most definitely not approve of what we are about to make them do…but we wholeheartedly do.
This story will include sex, slash, profanity, and the like. If you are young enough to get in trouble for reading dirty things on the internet, please go away.
Everyone else…Don't say we didn't warn you.
Oh, and one more thing. We promise you: this is not your typical threesome fic.
Fucking shit. I need a tequila before I get the fuck out of here.
My mind was in a million places as I slammed my cell onto the table before me. My action shook the glass of water I'd ordered as a preliminary start to the evening, causing just enough liquid to reach the phone itself to slosh over the rim of the glass and douse the upper half of my Blackberry.
"God damn it," I muttered to myself as I snatched the phone away from the puddle of water forming around it and attempted to dry it on my skirt.
It had not been a good day, and this shit was not helping.
To start things off, I'd woken up a full hour late that morning. That, in turn, meant that after showering, blow-drying my hair, and dressing in simple black pants, a fitted shirt and flats, I sped to my office only to arrive forty-five minutes late. I parked and ran inside just in time to be stopped by my bitch of a supervisor, one Lauren Mallory, who asked me to deposit my belongings in my office and meet her in her office immediately after.
I arrived at my desk to find three folders waiting for me--each of which held an article that needed to be edited today to meet the 5:00 deadline for this issue of the magazine, and damn if one of them wasn't thirty-three printed pages long. In my head, I growled. I had an article to finish myself, but the editing took precedence so, yet again, my work would probably go non-prioritized and therefore unwritten. Unwritten works can't very well be published in the magazine, now can they?
The possibility of being published—of actually seeing my words in print—had been the reason I took this job in the first place. But if I couldn't ever get through the menial shit, thereby allowing myself the time to actually write, how was that ever going to happen?
As I walked in the direction of Mallory's office, I sighed. I didn't really think of editing as menial work. It was interesting and always kept me on my toes, but the fact remained that until I could finish all of it with time to spare, I'd never have the chance to pen a free-form article in the hope that it could end up in the Op-Ed section of the magazine.
I stepped into the office of my boss—reigning bitch of The Common Appeal—and tried to conjure the most convincing smile possible. "You wanted to see me, Lauren?" I asked.
She proceeded to tell me that I was being officially written up for tardiness.
"But I've been late twice!" My jaw dropped. "In a year and a half!"
"Bella, you better be on time for the next sixty days, or I'll have to pursue disciplinary action," she said matter-of-factly.
I wanted to punch her in her ugly, disproportionately small nose. Plastic surgery whore.
Fuming, I signed the paperwork and returned to my desk, closing my office door behind me.
I was muttering to myself when the phone rang. "Stupid fucking ridiculous shit…"
I paused long enough to answer the line but let the gratuitous cursing continue in my mind. "Bella Swan speaking."
"Bella!" Jessica nearly shouted in my ear.
I jerked the phone away from my head and cringed. "Jess, seriously. I don't think they heard you in the North Pole."
After a quick apology, she continued. "We're all going to Breeze tonight. Are you in?"
"I don't know…who's 'we'?" I asked. It was Friday, and Breeze was our normal spot, but really, I wasn't sure I was in the mood to deal with people after the way my morning had gone. I glanced at the clock on my computer. It was nearly 11 A.M.
"Uh … me, Ang, Kristen, Ash, and maybe Tyler."
I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Tyler? Really? It's been so long since I've seen him!"
Tyler was like my brother. And he just happened to be my brother's ex-boyfriend. Emmett was one of those guys everyone assumed was straight because he had huge muscles and was the jock type, but when he'd come out to me at the age of eighteen, I was not surprised.
He and Tyler hadn't worked out, but he remained one of my good friends because the split with Emmett had been amiable.
"Yeah!" Jess exclaimed. "He's supposed to get here at like eight or something. So are you in?"
"Of course," I said, beaming out of the window in my office and beginning a countdown to the minute I could leave this accursed place in my head. "I'll talk to you later, Jess."
I hung up, thinking perhaps my day was on its way up.
That hope lasted for forty-three minutes and twenty-six seconds. That was when my printer just…stopped working.
…just as I was hitting print on that fucking thirty-three page monster, in order to hand it back to the writer, because he liked to work with non-electronic versions of his work for editing purposes. We can't disturb the elaborate workings of the delicate genius, after all.
Of course, the anal retentive asshole had the nerve to stop by and check on the status of his article. And, in his standard procedure, he reminded me of the one time I'd made a mistake while editing one of his articles. Sure, I'd left "there" instead of changing it to "their." But six months later, I still had to hear about it?
After he left, I knelt beneath my desk to verify that the printer was actually plugged in. My moment of celebration over the fact that it was just unplugged and not broken was soiled when I stood back up and felt the stiletto heel on my shoe snap and come lose. Motherfucker.
Then, I attempted to log in to Pandora. In my rush, I'd forgotten my iPod that morning, and I edited better with some quiet music in the background.
Of course Pandora wasn't working.
My stapler decided to break as I was trying to organize and file the rough drafts I'd edited this week, leaving me with a messy pile of papers on my desk.
The copy machine was out of paper.
For lunch, I'd hobbled across the parking lot, thanks to my uneven heels, and ordered a salad. They were out of my favorite dressing. I ate it begrudgingly and returned to work after only a half hour break in the hopes that I could leave early.
By the time my lunch hour was over, I was considering going home for the day.
Upon my return to work, I was pulled into a largely pointless meeting and made to give some lame ass presentation on a topic that had absolutely nothing to do with my job. As a result, when the Q&A time came, I was completely clueless and looked like a fucking moron in front of my manager's manager.
That meeting lasted two-and-a-half hours.
Two and a half hours during which I should have been editing Mike Newton's fucking thirty-three page monstrosity.
When I got back to my office, I sighed and sat down at my desk, only to realize I really needed to pee. Badly. Grumbling, I rushed down the hall and into a stall. Just as I was trying to unzip my pants, I heard a sploosh as my Blackberry landed in the toilet.
"Fucking hell," I yelled to no one in particular. I took a few deep, calming breaths before managing to fish it out. I placed it on a pile of toilet paper and finished what I came to do. As I was washing my hands, I decided to wash the phone, too – it's not like the water could do more damage. Fucking gross.
Upon my return to my desk, I'd taken it apart as best I could in the hopes that the damned thing would still work after it dried.
Five o'clock rolled around, and I rushed out of the building as though my life depended on it. Hell, maybe it did. I stopped by my apartment to change into something cute—a black pencil skirt and a fitted blue top paired with peep toe stilettos—and touched up my makeup. I ran my flat iron over my hair and took a deep breath.
The day was over. Surely Breeze would make me forget about how terrible it had been.
As I drove to the bar, I thought about Tyler and how good it would be to see him. I remembered the last time we'd all gotten together and how much fun it was. After drinking the evening away at Breeze, we'd all ended up at a karaoke bar—incredibly drunk, of course—and Tyler had convinced Jess and me to be his backup singers for "You're So Vain". I actually laughed as I thought about that night and tried to generally just talk myself out of the funk I'd been in all day.
Yes, I thought. Drinks at Breeze are exactly what I need.
I parked on the street a few blocks away and checked myself in the rearview mirror. Despite the horrendous day I'd had, I looked good. Briefly, I considered trying to meet someone tonight, someone who could hold me, among other things, and really take my mind off the day. That line of thinking surprised me because that wasn't me—I didn't bring people home. I didn't go home with them either. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy sex or the pursuit or any of that. It was simply that I'd rather have a good time with friends. There was no massive heartbreak in my past, I wasn't jaded, and I didn't have some chip on my shoulder that made me avoid men, contrary to what people always assumed.
I just didn't need a man. I dated when it worked for me, but if it didn't, my life wasn't over.
Truly independent women were rare, and I was proud to count myself one of their small number.
I pushed a hand through my hair and grabbed my clutch, which contained my ID, cell phone, lip gloss, and my Visa and opened the car door. I stood up, slammed the door, locked it, and put my keys in my bag. As I headed toward Breeze, I almost breathed a sigh of relief. It was the weekend. No work, all play.
I could handle that.
I stepped into the bar and found our usual spot, a booth near the back made for large parties. Seven people would fit easily. The thought of Tyler made me smile again. It really had been too long.
I settled back into my seat and let my eyes close as I began to attempt to relax. It was 8:30, the time we normally arrived on Fridays. Our favorite waitress, Emily, came by and asked if I wanted my regular. "No thanks, Em," I replied. "I have a feeling it'll be a long night."
She grinned. "Everyone's coming, then?"
"Yep," I nodded. "Everyone and a friend I haven't seen in too long," I finished. "Can I just get a water?"
She scurried away to grab my water and returned just as quickly. I sipped it and looked at the clock. 8:37.
By 8:45, I was wondering where everyone was. Angela was normally the first to arrive, and even she hadn't shown up.
At nine, the first message came. At least my phone appeared to have survived its swim in the toilet.
Can't make it. Sry. James is in town n called me…
Fucking Jessica and her "friend" James, who only called when he was horny.
I responded that she sucked at life for ditching me, but appeased myself with the knowledge that the others would be along shortly.
By 9:15, everyone had bailed on me, even Tyler. At least it wasn't his fault. His flight had been delayed until morning because of required maintenance on the plane.
Everyone else though…
I was pissed.
I just wanted to do something to redeem the utterly shit-tastic day I'd had. I wanted to let loose and have some fun. I wanted to forget about fucking Lauren Mallory and Mike Newton's boring dribble and pointless meetings and looking like an idiot in front of the big boss.
All I wanted was to have a good time.
It looked like that wasn't even going to be an option.
Fucking shit. I need a tequila before I get the fuck out of here.
After I got the last text and slammed my phone on the table, I caught Emily's attention while attempting to mop up the mess. She could tell I was angry.
"Hey, Bells," she said. "What's up? You okay?"
I smiled wryly. "I'm going home, Em. I'm sorry I took up this table. You could've had several customers by now…"
She shook her head at me, furrowing her brow and holding up a hand to stop my apology. "No worries, Bella. I'll see you next week, maybe?"
"Yeah, sure," I answered. If my fucking lame ass friends don't flake on me.
"Cool," she said, smiling at me. "I've gotta run to the kitchen, but I'll see you then."
I sat there for a moment, trying to determine what I was going to do next. It was Friday night, after all, but I was suddenly not interested in being out anymore. A bottle of wine and curling up with a book seemed like a better option. With that thought in mind, I decided to get that tequila and head home.
I slid to the end of the booth and, as I stood up, I rolled my head around, letting the muscles in my neck and my back pull and stretch and the bones pop.
As I sniffed, I tucked my clutch under my arm and moved toward the bar. I'd have to wait a minute for Jake, the bartender, to see me. He was a sweet guy and almost always gave me my drinks free.
"Hello," a soft, feminine voice said, shockingly close to my right ear.
Instinctively, I jerked back, whirling around to see who'd just spoken to me.
She stood there, tall and so gorgeous that a pang of jealousy hit me. Deep blue eyes smiled at me, framed in long lashes and lined perfectly in black liquid liner. Her lips were shiny, even in the darkened bar, and she wore a fitted black dress with heels. Long blonde hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, framing her ethereal face.
"Hi," I said. "Do I know you?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm Rosalie. Call me Rose," she answered as she extended her hand.
I shook it just as Jake came up. "What can I get you, Bells?" He grinned at me after appraising my companion.
"Just a tequila, please. Make it a double," I replied, glancing at him briefly before my gaze returned to Rose.
A male voice spoke from my left. "Let me get that," it said.
I turned around and had to swallow hard as I took in the man who stood before me. He was tall, a few inches over six feet, with smoldering green eyes and perfect full lips that were smiling at me. He wore a short-sleeved polo shirt and the definition in his arms was evident as he ran a hand up through the hair at the nape of his neck. His hair was a mess—it seemed to be standing at odds with itself—but it worked for him. It really worked.
"You don't have to," I immediately responded. "Really."
"You should let him," Rose said.
The man smiled crookedly. "Yes, you should," he said.
I nodded quickly, affirming that I'd let him buy the drink, all the while wondering if he and Rose knew one another.
Jake grinned at me as he poured my double and took the guy's cash. I saw his girlfriend Leah standing at the other end of the bar, and when he walked away, he went in her direction.
"Thanks," I said. I grabbed my drink and turned around, leaning back against the bar. "What's your name?"
"I'm Edward. You've already met Rose." He gestured toward her.
Rose smiled, and I realized she was standing incredibly close to me…I felt a strange mix of apprehension and intrigue over the fact that I didn't mind her proximity in the slightest.
"Bells? Is that a nickname for Bella?" She must have overheard Jake's use of my pet name.
"Yeah," I said. "People have called me that my whole life. It's actually Isabella, but I'd rather not go by that."
"Why not?" Edward asked. "It's a gorgeous name."
I felt my cheeks enflame as I watched his mischievous eyes slowly make their way down my frame before they traveled back up, drinking in every curve. I had never felt so exposed…or so beautiful. How did he do that?
"Well, thanks. I just prefer Bella." I cleared my throat and moved my glass from one hand to the other. "Do you two know each other?" I looked from Edward to Rose, and she smiled.
"Yeah." She leaned one elbow on the bar and looked at me, her full breast brushing against my arm and causing a strange warmth to spread throughout my body.
I worked to clear my head, trying to focus on what they were saying rather than the unusual…arousal I was beginning to feel.
"That's it? I don't get any other information? Are you dating or something?" I wondered aloud. My mind was going ninety miles an hour trying to figure out why, if they were dating, he'd just paid for my drink right in front of her…and why she had encouraged it.
Edward laughed loudly. "Oh no. We're not dating. That's an impossibility," he said with a smirk.
"Uh, okay," I said, and they both laughed at my expression before Rose said they were good friends, all the while smiling as she stared into my eyes.
From there, conversation ebbed and flowed. Rose and I discussed our jobs—she was a leasing agent and worked primarily in the downtown area—and when I mentioned that I was a writer, Edward was instantly interested. Apparently, his mother wrote for an architectural digest, and he'd always respected anyone who could write and do it well. We talked about music and the weather, and I found myself starting to relax, finally. My shitty Friday was almost erased from my memory, I realized. And I was incredibly grateful for it.
Rose glanced briefly at Edward, and he nodded so slightly that I almost didn't notice it. "So, Bella," she purred. "We have a question for you."
"Shoot," I said, as I finally placed the glass to my lips and tilted it upward. As I flicked my tongue out, tasting the alcohol before it hit my throat, I noticed Edward's chin move toward his chest slightly. Good, I thought. He likes what he sees. And so do I.
As I started to swallow, Rose leaned toward me, her breath hot and her full lips brushing my ear as she whispered.
"Would you spend the night with us? Both of us? Edward's place is just around the corner."
I nearly choked.
"I…What?" I sputtered as the tequila burned its way down my throat. "What?"
Edward placed a hand on my upper arm, and the heat from his palm intensified the fire of the alcohol radiating in my chest. "We don't do this often, Bella. In fact this is a first…we'd joked about doing something like this before, but never seriously considered it…" He paused and looked me in the eye, making my legs feel weak. "Until we saw you, that is."
I felt my jaw drop.
For one of very few moments in my life, I was speechless. What do you say when the two most gorgeous people you've ever seen ask you to be part of a threesome?
Images raced through my mind. Edward's body fluid with mine. Edward's brow beaded with perspiration as he moved inside of me. Edward's hands on me, moving and massaging their way down my form. Edward, Edward, Edward. I felt the warmth from my chest spread through my core.
I hazarded a glance at Rosalie. Would I have to watch her with Edward? For some reason, I didn't think I could handle that.
Wait a second. Are you actually considering this?
Yes. Yes, you are.
Fuck, yes, I am.
"I…I don't even…how would it work? I mean, would we both…" My eyes shifted to Edward, who was watching me carefully. I was stuttering, and I was annoyed with my apparent inability to form a coherent sentence in the face of my first ever ménage a trois.
Rose laughed, low and seductive. It seemed to caress my ears. "Well, Bella," she said. "I mean, we can't give you an anatomy lesson. But I can promise it would be worth your time." A soft smile formed on her lips and, again, I noticed how beautiful she really was. For the first time, I let my eyes traipse their way down her body—curves in all the right places…narrow hips…long, shapely legs extending from beneath her skirt.
Bella, are you checking a girl out? I questioned myself. This was a first. Never in my life had I been attracted to a woman. Was I now?
She reached forward and gingerly placed her thumb and forefinger on my chin, leaning so near to me that I could feel her lips again brushing my ear lobe as she spoke. "I just want you, Bella. Men hold no interest for me, in that way."
Rose is a lesbian.
Edward is straight.
I am straight.
I mean…I thought I was…
I looked up at her evenly, hoping my eyes wouldn't betray the thousands of thoughts that seemed to be colliding in my head. I had never understood how someone could say they were bisexual because I'd always been strictly attracted to men. Somehow in this brief encounter, Edward and Rose had begun to make me see things slightly differently. I peeked at Rosalie again. Okay…very differently. I glanced at my watch. It was nearing 11:00.
Before I could look up, Edward's hand caressed mine, and he lightly massaged my fingers. His eyes focused on our intertwined hands as he spoke. "Bella?"
When his green eyes met my brown ones, I heard myself answer them both. My voice did not waver.
"Yes," I answered simply, resolved.
Even in the dim light of Breeze, I saw Edward's eyes darken with desire, and Rose inhaled deeply. We all looked at each other for a full minute and internally, I was freaking out. Had I really just agreed to this? With a girl and a guy?
I didn't let it show.
"So," Edward's voice was suddenly all business. "I live four blocks from here, at 8th and Congress. Meet us there in half an hour?"
"Yeah, okay," I answered. "That's the Cullen Condominium complex, right?"
He smiled. "Yeah, that's it."
I swallowed, suddenly anxious, and Rose said, "I live at 8th and Trinity. I'm going to run home and pick up a few…things…and I'll be right over."
I nodded. "Yeah, okay." Is that all you can say, you moron? "I…I'll see you there."
I realized I was still holding my glass, so I turned and placed it on the bar. I felt a hand slide across my abdomen, and Rosalie pressed softly against my back. Her lips ghosted along my neck, making me shiver, and I found myself pressing back against her for a brief moment.
"See you very soon," she breathed before letting me go.
When I recovered from the shock of feeling her body so close to mine, I suddenly remembered that it wasn't just the three of us. We were in a crowded bar on a Friday night. Jake waved to me just like any other evening, and it felt as though I were caught in a surreal dream.
Wow, I thought. It was like everyone else disappeared. They had completely captivated me.
I smiled at Edward and Rose, hoping I didn't look as nervous as I suddenly felt, and started to move to leave. He took my hand and pulled me to him gently. In this close proximity, I could smell his cologne, and my stomach was pressed against his hip as he wrapped an arm low around my waist. He looked down at me, his eyes deep and full of something I couldn't label. "Thank you," he whispered in my ear before I felt him lightly nibble on my lobe. A shiver worked its way down my spine, turning my anxiety to anticipation.
A smile formed on my lips as I pulled away. "I'll…see you in a few," I said, my voice confident and assured despite the cacophony of emotions I was feeling.
"We'll be waiting," Rose said, a slight grin quirking one side of her lips.
As I stepped through the crowd, two thoughts reverberated in my mind.
What the hell did you just agree to, Bella?
And how much longer do I have to wait?
AN: Fun times to come.
P.S. We told you so. Reviews are win.
Hi everyone! This is SorceressCirce, and I just wanted to share with you this first chapter of my new fic with AHelm. It's a collaboration we've been working on for awhile and are extremely excited about. To answer the question I'm sure I'll get – no, I have not and will never abandon "Just One of the Guys." It is still going strong, and it has quite a long way to go actually.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and will check out our joint profile – ThePhoenixRiddle (link on my profile). This chapter and all the remaining ones of this story will be posted there, as will the sequels that we already have planned. This sneak preview will be deleted in a week or so. Leave us some love at ThePhoenixRiddle, and we'll see you soon.