Hold Me Down by peristew
Review by Lemon Charlotte
Rating: M
Genre: Romance/Angst
Characters: Edward & Bella
Summary: Not me. That's who this girl is. She is not me. And for the first time, Edward wants someone who is not me. The tequila sits at the bottom of my stomach and begins to grow tentacles. I am tequila brave.
I'm not ready to sit down and play nice, so I make a b-line to the bathroom.
Standing in front of a sink, staring at my reflection in the dull mirror, I touch my lips, remembering the feel of his—the lips I know so well. It had been too long since I last kissed Edward, since before he last kissed me.
This is familiar territory, this…game… I guess you could call it a game. We play it often, and I always win. Tonight he is putting up a fight. He wants me to believe it's over.
It can't be over.
A thickness builds in my throat, and I swallow it down. No tears, please. The thickness builds again, and I spit into the sink and lock my jaw to keep my tears from escaping.
Pull it together,Bella.
What if Bella is the bad guy?
Hold Me Down opens with Bella rushing to meet her friends for their weekly Thursday night meet-up. Three guys and her, friends since first grade, only this week Edward is bringing along a date. She’s nervous, and edgy and immediately there’s tension in the air. This night is not going to end well because this is no tale of unrequited love, or unresolved attraction. Edward and Bella were already lovers, until some time in the recent past, when, it seems, Edward could bear Bella’s messed up games no longer and cut her loose. This particular night in the bar, it’s hard to see why Edward would want to be with her at all. She’s selfish and at times cruel, treating both Edward and his new girl with scant respect. Clearly, she doesn’t care for herself much either. Yet she’s in agony, albeit of her own making, and it’s impossible not to feel her pain. As for Edward, he’s determined to make things work with his new girl. But Bella just won’t leave him be. Peristew had me gripped from the start.
The story of Bella and Edward’s long friendship unfolds, with revealing glimpses from their first meeting at age seven and throughout their school years. It becomes clear that for Edward at least, she has always been more than a friend:
By the time we were freshmen in high school, Edward and I had explored a little more than each other's mouths.
"Are you my girlfriend?" he asked.
We were lying on his bed and had just finished rounding second base. His hand was up my shirt, his palm flat and warm against my stomach. The spot just beneath my earlobe was still tingling from the way he had suckled on it—pulling at the delicate skin with his lips, bringing the rosy blood up, just to the surface.
"Oh, um… we're friends." I shrugged and sat up, scooting to the edge of his bed.
"So, you do this with Jasper and Jake?" The expression on his face was disbelieving, with his brows furrowed and his mouth slightly agape, as he joined me at the edge
"Ew, no. Edward… it's fun, isn't it?" I hopped to my feet and stood in front of him, wrapping my arms around his warm neck.
His evergreen eyes narrowed and did a full left-to-right sweep.
"Okay …you're not my girlfriend, but you're not just my friend?"
That was a subject that came up more and more. What was this? What were we?
I didn't want to know....Leaning in, I sucked on his bottom lip, before slipping my tongue inside his mouth. Kissing was easier than talking. It was easier than telling him things he didn't want to hear.
Bella has never been able to give more. Edward has been so sweet, so kind, so decent, it seems, patiently fulfilling the role of fuck buddy for too long. Don’t get me wrong, this Bella is strong, feisty, loyal and game. But she has hurt and used our boy. It’s not his story, but Peristew lingers over his clear anguish.
He shook his head as he moved toward me, his steps slow and prowl-like. He reached out, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of my jeans, and he pulled me to him. He had gotten so tall, just in the past few months. He towered over me, forcing me to stare up at him. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips once, twice, then one more time before capturing my lips in this near-desperate way.
I backed off a little, but he held me tighter, his forehead pressing against mine. "Don't pull away from me." He was nearly begging. Kissing me again, he urged me to keep going. "No one's here," he murmured, curling his fingers around my neck, pulling me closer. "Don't pull away…" He pressed his body into me until there was no space between us. Placing his hands at my sides, he gripped me tightly, like he was holding me in place, like if he let go, I would run away. He may have been on to something.
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