Heartbreak Remedy by dariachenowith.pdf

Heartbreak Remedy by dariachenowith

Sequel: A Beautiful Disaster

BDSM fic

I stared at the door in apprehension. Why was it all of a sudden so hard to walk over that

plank? I had done it countless times, in various states of consciousness. And this was just

some lame Saturday night party after all. Lots of people, lots of booze, no risk, no fun. I

couldn't very well stall here forever.

Laughter sounded behind me on the lawn and I self-consciously stepped to the side,

pretending to check messages on my cell phone. None there, of course, but it was the

only excuse I could think of while I let the merry trio of girls walk up to the door and ring

the bell. A blast of music greeted them and they sashayed inside. I thought about stalling

longer still, but then swallowed my stupidity and followed them.

I instantly regretted that I hadn't put more effort into my outfit. I was wearing my blue

jeans and jersey dress complete with waist defining wide belt. True, it was a step up from

the sweats I'd been wearing since Friday, but now seemed rather out of place.

It only got worse when I turned around to scan the crowd, and suddenly found myself

confronted with the beaming smile of one of the hosts of tonight's shindig. Jasper

snatched me up and lifted me until my feet were dangling off the floor as if I were a small

child. I squealed in indignation and pounded my fist against his shoulder, probably a little

harder than called for, but instead of wincing he just grinned brightly and smacked a wet

kiss onto my lips.

“There you are, Bella! We didn't think you'd crawl out from that rock you've been hiding

under lately!"

I offered him a bright, artificial smile, and fluffed up my dress once he had set me down

and let go of me again.

“Gee, Jazz, you've really been missing me? Don't fret, pretty boy, I'm here now to ward

off all the girls looking for styling tips from you.”

As usually he didn't rise to the bait, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Pray tell, dearest Bella, what is so bad about me having a personal hygiene routine?

Wasn't it you yourself who told me in high school that the way my locker smelled I

would never land a decent lay in all my born days?”

I just rolled my eyes at him and then started to make my way towards the bar at the other

end of the room.

“If I have to listen to any more of your GQ founded knowledge I need a drink. There

must be some payoff for me leaving my hidey-hole, after all.”

Jazz laughed, but made no attempts to follow me.

“Make yourself at home, Bella. Sheesh, I forgot, you basically live here anyway! Just

don't puke into my sock drawer again!”

I threw him a dirty look and then ventured forth on my journey. The bar was, as usual,

well stocked, both in regards to alcohol and man meat. Edward already waited for me, his

usual easy grin beaming at Colgate commercial strength through the room, ready to

swoop me up into the usual bear hug I had to endure every single time we met. Like with

Jazz before I didn't protest too much, and found myself sat down at the counter-top,

conveniently next to the heavy stuff.

“Bells, pardon me for saying this, but you really look like you could use a drink,” he

offered, already making his way around the counter to the fridge where I knew enough

beer to feed the masses was stored.

Disregarding his jibe I grabbed a whiskey tumbler, and filled it nearly to the brim with

tequila. Why bother with shot glasses when you already know that the bottle of golden

elixir is yours to destroy? Edward watched me with some kind of sick fascination as I

saluted him and his wimpy bottle of Heineken, and took two deep swallows. Ah, I so

needed that tonight, my throat on fire to battle the deep depression that still gripped my

broken heart.

When I set my half empty glass down next to me Edward was back on the bar stool at my

side, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Why, Swan, what did that bottle do to you to deserve swift and brutal execution?” he

drawled, and the intensity of his gaze deepened the blush the alcohol already sent to my

cheeks.

Get a grip on yourself, you're getting embarrassing. It's not like you haven't known him

for five years now, five years in which likewise banter has been the closest to any sexual

thing you've ever had.

We did end up in bed together a few times, but always fully clothed, and more often than

not one more hung over than the other. Nothing says 'I want to do you' like bad morning

breath after worshiping the porcelain throne.

I shook my head to dispense my silly notions and instead focused on the liquid swirling

enticingly in my glass.

“That bottle has to pay for all the booze we downed back in 05' in Tijuana, and all the

booze I didn't drink during the last two years.”

Edward's face lit up at the mentioning of our vacation back then.

“You mean the night where actually no one got laid?”

“Exactly. Although I vaguely remember Alice disappearing with the pool boy sometime

before I got violently sick all over your flip-flops.”

He grinned brightly.

“Yeah, she was way smarter than Jazz and the two of us. Shit, I'll never forget the

massive hangover I got from that.”

And I will never forget passing up the chance to get into your pants, Sweety Pie.

Because that night I, Isabella Swan, had been too timid to ask the hot new roommate of

my long time best friend Jasper Whitlock, the gorgeous Edward Cullen, to have his

wicked way with me. Half a bottle of tequila I had believed suitable to get myself some

courage, but by that time I had been so wasted already that the three of us had just kept

on drinking together, to end up in one miserable heap of hungover meat the rest of our

vacation.

I lost myself a little in the memories, both fond and gruesome, and belatedly realized that

the tequila was already taking effect. I couldn't have cared less, tonight I was happy for

every minute I was closer to regain that wonderful state of stupor where nothing is

important anymore.

“But something tells me there is more to your uncanny drinking habit than a trip down

memory lane. Like where your future husband is lurking. It's unnatural for a Stepford

Wife-to-be to go to raucous parties on Saturday nights alone.”

I shot Edward a scathing glare and finished my glass with one long swallow that

cauterized my throat with liquid fire.

“Well, let's just say that Mike is history, okay?” I squeaked out once I was capable of

speech again.

Edward stared up at me with something close to real shock, but then he jumped to his feet

and hollered across the crowded room, “Jazz man, you won't believe it, Bella finally

dumped the douchebag Newton!”

Leave it to those I call my closest friends to drag out my dirty laundry in front of all

people. Thankfully the bottle of tequila was still next to me, and I bothered myself with

refilling my glass while the steep crimson of humiliation burned on my face.

With unrivaled speed Jasper was back at the bar, sporting the twin to Edward's grin.

“Why, Bella, what happened that you finally came to your senses? I really thought we'd

lost you to the Dark Side for good!”

I scowled both at the implication and the phrasing.

“Didn't we long ago agree on us being the Dark Side, even more so since George Lucas

put the emo back into the Jedi?”

He and his roommate shared a long glance, and Edward helpfully supplied, “Right, then

you're back from the Washed Out Gray Side, back to where you belong now.”

I grinned, the tequila already gripping hard onto the control of my facial expression.

“I think I can live with that.”

“So, what tipped you off in the end? Shoot, because if I have to recount every single

thing that comes to mind I won't be done by sunrise,” Jazz nudged me.

I cast around frantically for a snide remark to end that topic quickly, but the amount of

booze in me was still too low to effectively rule over the heartburn. So I stuck with the

truth.

“I came home early only to find him with that bitch Jessica Stanley riding him for all her

scrawny ass is worth. And before I can even process that sight skank Lauren Mallory

comes walking in from the kitchen, whipped cream and chocolate sauce in hands, sizes

me up and says to me, “Great that you finally showed up, at least now you get to learn

something.” And before you ask, no, I did not resort to physical violence, but just ran out

to never ever come back.”

The guys shared a meaningful glance that nearly got me chugging the bottle of tequila at

them, but when Jazz turned back to me he was all wide smile and gleaming teeth again.

“Meaning I can finally feel you up again?”

I just groaned and took another swig from my glass.

“Jazz, how long have we known each other now? Twenty-one of our twenty-four years?

And you never got to feel me up because that is simply not the thing you do, so don't get

your hopes up yet. I'm not your type anyway.”

He raised his brows at my jibe, and I helpfully supplied, “I have brains, you know? Your

ultimate deal breaker.”

Jasper snorted at that while Edward had a hard time not spewing his beer all over the both

of us. Glaring at me with indignation Jazz treated himself to a shot of Grey Goose, and

saluted me with it.

“Touché, Miss Swan. So enjoy your newfound freedom while I will continue spreading

the merry news.”

I rolled my eyes at his retreating back, not for the first time noticing how well defined his

body looked in his T-Shirt and jeans. Not much left of the lanky boy next door I had

grown up with.

Taking another deep swallow of my life saver I tried to shake off those unbidden images.

That whole break-up thing must really be screwing with me when now even Jasper

looked good enough to eat to me. I was used to viewing Edward that way, but Jazz?

Those two years with Mike had clearly not been good on my assessment.

“So what aren't you telling me, Bells?” came Edward's low question, most of the

exhilaration now gone from his voice.

I sighed heavily. Would have been too good if I could have succeeded not to spill the

whole of my misery, but then I hadn't really expected to get away with that. The guys just

knew me too well, and Edward had gotten too many insights into my brain not to see that

I was as down as I could be.

His green eyes looked at me with the appropriate mix of interest and willingness to

comfort me, and I couldn't hold my tongue any longer.

“Wanna know Mike's parting words before I slammed the door behind me? He told me I

was sexually repressed, and he just couldn't stand my need for cuddle sex any longer.”

Edward stared at me with his mouth hanging open, and it took him a whole of ten

seconds to close it again.

“But Mike is aware that you are the same Isabella Swan who got to be honorary member

of the Kappa Deltas on our campus for your stunt with that Jacob Black at that one frat

party?”

This time my grin was real at the memory. What a night to behold. The good ol' days

indeed. Confronted with the reality of my last two years that smile was gone rather fast,

though.

“I figure he must have forgotten about that,” I surmised rather dryly.

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