Chalk

12

I was determined to get my own chalky fingerprints on his skin the next day.

“If you want to try the Passion Pit again, I’ll spot you,” I huffed as we crossed the meadow.

Edward shot me a cynical look and chuckled. “Honey, I would crush you if I landed on top of you.”

I tried not to think of the dirty way that could have been taken and focused instead on the fact that he’d called me something other than that horrid nickname. “I like that a lot better than Sparkles.”

“You’re currently failing that one. I haven’t seen a single sparkle in weeks.” We ducked into the tree before he spoke again, sounding as though his mouth betrayed the tail end of his thought. “I was thinking, Twinkle Toes.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “No, please.” I was fully prepared to grovel if need be. It would hurt my knees, but I was willing to bet that the view from below would be fantastic.

“Don’t worry, I’m still working on it,” he said with another wink.

We headed back to Damned If She Do, scrambling over smaller tumbles of rock to find it already occupied. Emmett was just giving a beautiful blonde a girl a helpful push up the last of my current problem, boosting her over the edge with a hand on her ass.

“You didn’t have to do that, asshole.” She pulled herself to her feet and glared down at Emmett. “I had it in the pocket.”

“I know you did, but I couldn’t help it, baby. It was just right there in my face.” Emmett defended himself half heartedly, grinning up at her in a way that did nothing for his sincerity.

“You pervert. No wonder you do this,” she huffed then pranced off the low side of the rock with all the grace of a gazelle. I could see the ballerina flair Edward had mentioned, her hands poised and her neck held long and straight, but there was a wild animal quality about her that brought those nimble, leaping creatures to my mind. She stepped up beside us as Emmett started up the rock and smiled at me.

“You must be Sparkles,” she smiled.

“Bella.” I corrected, glaring at Edward.

“Right,” Rose snickered at the look that passed between us, Edward rolling his eyes as I tried my best to burn holes into his neck with my own. Rose turned to Edward with a hand on his arm and I fought off the jealousy that she’d gotten ahold of his bare skin before I did.

“I heard you red-lined the Passion Pit. Congratulations,” she spoke softly.

Edward shrugged off the compliment. “Took me long enough.”

“Whatever, you humble shithead. You know that everyone’s had their eyes on that prize ever since James . . . .” she faltered and eyed Emmett on the rock. “I knew it would be you.” She exhaled her words with a certainty that I found a little unnerving.

I failed at my fingerprint mission. We stayed at the rock all afternoon, but the boys stepped aside to let Rose and I have at it, I think mostly to watch us shimmy our way up the rock. Rose seemed to leap for each hold, pushing her body forward with just a little more force than anyone else did and each time it looked like she was in mid air for a split second. I stood next to Edward, watching her second successful ascent in as many minutes.

“I think you’re wrong about the ballerina thing,” I mused as she stretched her arms to the sky from the top of the rock, her fingers splayed like antlers.

“Why’s that?”

“I think she’s a gazelle.”

Edward squinted up at her silhouette against the sunlight and nodded.

“Fitting.”

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