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"And then he said..." I hiccuped before gulping my third tequila shot. "He said that I didn't wear enough tweed."
"Tweed," Rose deadpanned, holding back her laughter while pouring another shot.
"Yes," I scoffed, not appreciating her amusement over my recent breakup. "Tweed can be... important." Nodding furiously and trying to believe my foolish, drunk words, I smiled ruefully and accepted the fourth shot she handed me.
"Tweed is disgusting, anyway," she said, shrugging. "You lost a boyfriend for not wearing enough, but you'd lose me for wearing too much. I'd say you're walking away a winner."
"Tweed isn't that bad." I picked up a discarded tissue from the floor and blew my nose. "I could wear the shit out of tweed... if I wanted to."
"I just don't understand why the fuck you're so upset about Peter breaking up with you. He..." She paused, making a face that led me to believe he wasn't worthy of her standards. "He wears a watch, Bella."
"Since when does being able to tell time make someone cringe worthy?"
"When the watch has a velcro strap."
"Oh my God!" I yelled through a fit of laughter. "You are such a liar. Peter owns no such thing."
"I promise you. He wore it to dinner once, and we locked eyes when I heard the tearing of the velcro. He saw the look of disgust on my face and I never saw him wear the watch again."
I stared in awe, unsure of how to respond. She snickered and motioned for me to take the shot she'd handed me. So I did, slightly wincing because I hated her embellished velcro watch story almost as much as I hated the way the tequila burned down my throat.
"I had a plan. I think we were supposed to get married," I stressed. "I'm almost twenty-six. Most people are already married by twenty-six, right?"
"Obviously not," she sang.
I sighed loudly, leaning backward until I was lying on the floor. "Maybe he's just confused."
"About his sexuality? Because seriously... tweed?" Rose snorted, hitting my foot with hers. "We can't forget the velcro."
"Fuck you." I cracked a smile. "You're no help."
"And you're no fun when you're emo. Am I going to have to hide the knives before I go to bed? You're acting like this is the end of the world."
"Nah. You'll get over it. You just have to get under someone new first."
"What is that advice? This isn't an episode of Sex and the City," I felt the need to point out.
Before Rose could offer any advice, I heard the front door bust open. I didn't have to turn my head to know Edward and Emmett had just walked into the apartment.
"Oh, shit. I smell tequila. What's going on, ladies?" Emmett asked animatedly, throwing himself on the couch.
I discreetly wiped at my eyes, feeling slightly dizzy as I focused on the movement of the ceiling fan above me. Out of my peripheral, I saw Edward sit on the floor and reach across my body for the bottle of alcohol.
"Peter dumped Bella's ass, you guys," Rose blurted out, her smile evident in her tone.
"Thanks for that announcement," I mumbled, sitting up. I crossed my legs and snatched the tequila from Edward, who stared at me curiously.
"He broke up with you?" he asked, playfully pushing my knee with his hand. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I always knew he was a fucker," Emmett announced loudly, pulling Rose to sit in his lap.
"Thank you!" Rose screamed. "His reason was that she doesn't wear enough tweed."
"The fuck? I'm sure the real reason is because she doesn't have a dick," Emmett snorted, and Rose gave him a high-five.
I shook my head at their insensitivity. "You are awful, awful people."
"Hey, wait a second." We fell silent, waiting for Emmett to speak again. "Remember that one time he wore a velcro watch?"
"Oh my God." I ignored Rose's triumphant smile. "What is it with you guys and velcro? Peter doesn't own any velcro thing."
"What's tweed?" Edward questioned lowly, trying not to smirk at Rose and Emmett's immature jokes.
I rolled my eyes, drinking directly from the bottle. "It's this," I winced, "type of material. I don't know. Does it matter? I feel like it doesn't matter. I feel like you don't care."
"I don't really care about tweed, no." Edward shrugged. "You okay?"
I replied by taking another swig from the bottle.
"Would you break up with a girl for not wearing enough tweed?" I questioned, attempting to stand.
Edward looked up at me, amusement clear in his eyes. "Are you already drunk?"
"I'm breakup drunk. This doesn't count," I spoke as clearly as I could, ignoring Emmett and Rose as they not-so-stealthily snuck off to her room.
"Ah. Okay. Breakup drunk. Got it." Edward reached up, steadying my balance by placing his hands on my outer thighs.
With narrowed eyes, I stared him down. "Answer the question, Cullen."
He thought for a moment. "I wouldn't break up with you for not wearing enough tweed. Would you break up with me for wearing a velcro watch?"
I licked my lips before cracking a smile. "Such an asshole."
I sighed, pulling out of his grip and stumbling into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I pulled out two bottles of Blue Moon, popped off the tops, then carefully sat down on the carpet and leaned against the couch. My legs stretched out in front of me and I waited for Edward to grab the beer from my hand.
"Thanks." He frowned. "Hey, no orange slice?"
"Don't be high maintenance," I scolded.
"Requesting an orange slice for Blue Moon is not high maintenance," he scoffed, "It's a requirement. A necessity."
"Peter never liked Blue Moon," I mused, for no real reason.
"And he calls himself a man? Well, I'm glad you two broke up."
Edward reached over, attempting to clink his beer against mine, but I pulled away before he could.
"Rude! I cannot cheers over my break up," I whispered harshly.
He grinned. "Sure you can, it's easy. Just lift your arm, slowly bring your beer closer to mine—"
"I know how to cheers. I just don't want to."
"Such a shame." He chuckled, keeping his eyes on me as he drank his beer.
I'd started ranting about how Peter was picky with his alcoholic beverages when, suddenly, Edward's lips were brushing against my ear. "You know..." he spoke lowly, causing me to jump at the contact.
I pulled back, our faces still close to one another as I stared at his expression. "I know what?"
He shook his head. "Peter is kind of an idiot for breaking up with you."
I let out an unattractive laugh. "Whatever. Don't lie. You were always Team Pete."
His brows furrowed. "No, I wasn't."
"Oh my God!" I shoved his shoulder. "Yes, you were!"
"No." He rubbed his shoulder. "I was always Team whatever makes Bella happy."
I rolled my eyes. "Now you sound like the idiot."
Edward swallowed, looking down at his beer. "Yeah, I know."
"No, you know who really is an idiot?" I asked, pulling my knees to my chest.
"Wow, that was fast. I thought it'd take you at least three guesses," I said in awe.
"That was a no-brainer," he responded with a light chuckle. "You wanna watch Food Network and take shots every time Paula Deen says the word 'butter'?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
A/N: Hey, people. Please don't ask me what I am doing because I really don't have an answer to give, but...thanks for reading! This is going to be one of those annoying fics that updates on the daily. You can leave me a shouty caps review if you feel so inclined.
Thanks to Mshavisham79 for pre-reading this.
Oh. And I guess I'm supposed to tell you that this is fluff, fluff, fluff.