"I'm looking for Gideon Cross, the man who doesn't have romance in his repertoire." He grinned sheepishly, a boyish smile so at odds with the mature sexuality of his bared body. "I don't think about it that way. I just try to guess what might please you, and then I give it a shot and hope for the best." "You please me." I crossed to him, the black robe swaying around my legs. I loved that he'd put on something that matched what he had given me. "I want to," he said soberly. "I'm working on it." Stopping in front of him, I drank in the beauty of his face and the sexy way the ends of his hair caressed the top of his shoulders. I ran my palms down his biceps, squeezing the hard muscle gently before stepping into him and pressing my face into his chest. "Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. "Is this about me being an ass at lunch? Or whatever it is you need to say to me? Talk to me, Eva, so I can tell you it'll be okay."
" "Fine," he snapped, abruptly exasperated. "Fine," I repeated angrily. It took six EMTs and two teachers -- Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp -- to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I'd hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edward got to ride in the front. It was maddening. To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived before they could get me safely away. "Bella!" he yelled in panic when he recognized me on the stretcher. "I'm completely fine, Char -- Dad," I sighed. "There's nothing wrong with me." He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head
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