This was written for a picture prompt contest. I can't remember the name of the contest... but I can remember that I didn't win. :D

Chapter One.

The sharp tang of fresh paint filled Bella with happiness, as did the bare walls, the scrupulously clean varnished floor and the overwhelming sense of newness. Of course, it was only new to her. Many people had lived here before her, but she wasn't about to dwell on that.

It was a true fresh start. Having sold everything from her old apartment in Brooklyn, she'd splurged on new furniture and appliances for this one. The only possessions she'd brought with her barely filled six boxes and two suitcases which were lined up against the far wall, hardly taking up any space in the large living room.

It had been a long time coming, but she was glad of the change. Her life had been stagnant for too long and it was time to embrace change. Ignoring the small pyramid of boxes, she pushed the apartment door closed and threw herself onto the sofa, landing at the same time the door locked with a resounding click.

Satisfaction rolled through her chest, culminating in an almighty sigh of contentment. There was nothing quite like the promise of a blank page, and that's exactly what life felt like at that moment: A blank page waiting to be filled.

The sofa was soft and comfortable. Yielding like a perfect cocoon, it hugged her body as she sank deeper into the cushions. In her present state of mind, it added to the almost womblike ambiance.

Bright sunlight flared in through the large picture window, pooling at her feet and bathing her skin in welcome heat. The muted sounds of traffic drifted up from the streets below making Bella smile. She much preferred living in a city as opposed to the goldfish bowl existence she'd endured while growing up in Forks, Washington.

Before she could drift off for a nap, Bella got up to wander through the two bedroom apartment. She decided to take the larger room as her bedroom and use the smaller one to work from. Compared to the old cramped studio apartment, the emptiness here was appealing.

Moments like this were rare. Anonymity, solitude and peace were commodities to be coveted. Anonymity might be pushing it a bit. In the real world she was barely a blip on anyone's radar, but in the other world she certainly seemed popular.

So it was with resignation rather than irritation that she reacted to the voice that shattered her peace.

We need to talk about Edward.

Bella's mind went into overdrive as it usually did when she heard the voices. Since she could only hear the speaker and not see them, their voices were usually followed an onslaught of emotion.

It was the same effect as hearing a song, or smelling a scent which triggers a memory and brings forth an unexpected emotion. The strong sense of guilt and agitation her visitor was feeling was impossible to fight, and her earlier feeling of contentment evaporated like smoke on the wind.

Being so very young when she first began to hear disembodied voices, it never occurred to her that talking to people she couldn't see wasn't something everyone could do. She'd been ridiculed by the kids in her neighborhood for talking to herself, and it wasn't until she was five years old that her mother explained things to her.

She told Bella that her ability to hear the voices was a special gift, and not everybody could hear people the way she could. After that Bella didn't like it quite so much, she didn't want to be different from everyone else. Unfortunately, she didn't have any say in the matter. She was stuck with it whether she liked it or not.

As she got older she started to understand that the voices belonged to people who had passed into the next life. While it had never scared her, she often wished she didn't have the 'gift' because it made it very difficult for her to have close relationships.

Unexpected visits from dead relatives had a tendency to put a strain on relationships, and Bella found she couldn't cope with being close to people knowing that eventually they would be put off by her 'quirk'.

Being quite a spiritual person, Renee fully embraced it, and Bella was glad she could talk to her mother about it. However, Charlie's reaction proved to be the more common one: He wouldn't tolerate any mention of it in his presence; it was all hokum to him.

Renee was convinced Bella had inherited her ability from her great-grandfather who was the seventh son of a seventh son, but Bella had gone through a phase of reading up on the superstitions surrounding such a thing only to find that nothing backed up her mother's claims.

She'd also never found a way to be normal, and had quickly resigned herself to embracing the life she'd been given.

And so it was with a sense of resignation that Bella spoke out loud into her empty apartment.

"Who's Edward?"

The energy in the room increased exponentially, like a strong static charge that lifted her hair at the root. It was a sensation that was all too familiar, though admittedly she hadn't felt it come uninvited – or so strongly – in a very long time.

It always took a few moments to adjust to the onslaught of a spirit's emotions, and with this female spirit the onslaught of excitement and nervousness bordered on desperation.

Bella had given up trying to find out how spirits knew she could hear them. She used to try to ask them, but conversing with spirits about subjects which didn't interest them was almost impossible. They were usually fixated on their final purpose, the reason they remained bound to this plane. In their rush to communicate they often didn't make sense.

This spirit was no different, and listening to her was like tuning into a radio discussion half way through and having to fill in the blanks by guesswork alone. Bella just waited until the spirit could calm down.

He's not happy, I can feel it. He's pretending to be, but he's going through the motions. Wasting time in that god-awful job when he should be doing what he wanted to do. It's my fault. He's stuck in a rut. He worries about Alice. He shouldn't be burdened. It was my burden.

"Who is he?" Bella repeated while the woman was still ranting.

What followed was a verbal assault that passed too quickly to be registered. When a spirit was this agitated Bella knew there was no point in trying to make sense of their emotional outbursts. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the cushions. The beginnings of a headache were brewing. After several minutes of incoherent rambling, the sheer turmoil of the woman's feelings started to recede into one focal point.

He's my son. I've been watching over him and I... he's... he needs me.

A strong wave of sadness rippled through the air, and settled heavily in Bella's chest. It brought a lump to her throat and the sting of tears to her eyes. She could not remember a time when she had felt another's emotions so vividly since she was a child.

One incident had always stuck in her mind. A neighbor, Mr. Bertie, presented himself shortly before she entered seventh grade. His voice, unmistakably that of an elderly gentleman, dogged her for over a month before the intensity of his desperation made her trudge across the street to timidly knock on Mrs. Bertie's door.

Encouraged by Mrs. Bertie's pleasant smile, Bella told her exactly what Mr. Bertie whispered to her. "Umm, Mr. Bertie – I mean, Harold – wants you to know that he didn't mean it. That no matter what, he always loved you. None of the others ever meant anything to him."

The smile vanished from Mrs. Bertie's face and the door was unceremoniously slammed in Bella's face. It took a long time, and a lot of talking to her mom, before Bella could begin to understand things that a child her age was not yet equipped to comprehend.

Apart from a brief period when she'd hit puberty, it had been a constant struggle for her. But with Renee's help she'd learned how to cope and as she got older she managed to channel her abilities until she could control it somewhat. Nowadays she was mostly visited by spirits whose loved ones came to her in the hope of contacting them.

At first Bella had been reluctant to make money from the situation, but Renee had justified it by claiming that the value of Bella's help far outweighed monetary recompense. However, Bella had realized quickly that loneliness and isolation could never be assuaged by material gain. The money was a means to an end: rent, food and the future possibility of a college degree, if she ever decided what she wanted to study.

Bella dropped her head into her hands as her visitor ranted from the ether. Her fresh start had been tarnished mere minutes into it.

The energy in the room was strong and so heart wrenchingly sad that Bella could not tune out the spirit. She needed to help her.

Bella wondered if the spirit had haunted the apartment for years or if she'd had some emotional attachment to the previous occupant.

"I want to help you, but I don't think I can," Bella said, keeping her eyes closed and focusing on the energy coursing through her. "This is not how I do things."

Relief rippled through the air, like the warmth of the sun cutting through the clouds on a cold day.

We were fated to meet. I was drawn to you instantly and you can hear me.

Again Bella's own emotions were pushed to the side as a burst of joy sparked in her chest. The switch in emotion, combined with the pounding in her head growing stronger drained Bella.

"What's your name?"

Esme Cullen.

"Well, Esme Cullen, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed right now."

Yes, I can see that. You look a little pale, dear.

All at once the energy around Bella changed, dispersing into the feeling of being wrapped in her mother's arms, of being loved and comforted, and she knew instantly that feeling came from Esme. She'd never felt such strong maternal feelings before, not even from Renee.

"Do you mind if we don't do this tonight? Can we talk about Edward tomorrow?"

Of course, dear.

The energy vanished.

Bella took two Advil from her purse, swallowed them without water, and fell asleep on the sofa curled into the fetal position.

She woke a couple of hours later, disorientated and still exhausted. Frowning at the boxes she forced herself to get up and unpack them. Esme lingered in her thoughts while she filled the closets and shelves in her new apartment.

Long after midnight, she stared at herself in the mirror while brushing her teeth. She looked like a regular girl, but thanks to this thing that people called a gift, she was far from regular. What man, she asked herself, would tolerate his girlfriend being distracted by other people in the room that couldn't be seen or ordered away?

Despite her late night, Bella woke early and headed straight to the kitchen for coffee. She was too accustomed to unexpected guests to jump at the soft, lilting voice that filled up the small kitchen.

Good morning, dear. You look much better this morning.

"My name is Bella."

I know, dear.

Bella smiled, glad that Esme's feelings were much calmer this morning. She wasn't sure she could handle the intensity of their first encounter again.

Esme's energy flared for a moment and then she was gone. She wasn't sure if she had been there all night, but her sudden departure surprised Bella because she'd been expecting Esme to mention Edward again.

Bella had no idea who Edward was, but it was clear from Esme's energy that her peace hinged on his happiness.

Her day passed in a blur of rearranging her things and hanging pictures. The only photograph she put up was the one of Renee and Charlie she'd taken at her high school graduation. She missed them a lot, but not enough to make her want to go back to living in Forks. She much preferred the anonymity of the city; people here didn't look at her like she was a freak of nature.

Staring into her empty fridge, she considered a trip to the grocery store, but changed her mind when she found a packet of instant noodles in the box marked "kitchen". Shopping would give her something to do tomorrow.

She opened her window as the sun began to set. Noticing the wide ledge she took a seat, allowing her feet to dangle a few inches above the fire escape landing. Pink light cast a pretty glow on the city and the humid warmth of the late afternoon felt good on her sin. Enjoying the vibrant noises of city life which drifted up to her little spot in the world, Bella decided that there was no other place she'd rather be right in this moment.

A loud rattling sound came from the right side. She looked over her shoulder to see long, pale fingers gripping the underside of a window frame in the neighboring apartment. As the window lifted she could see muscular forearms, definitely masculine without being bulky, and she considered leaning further over the ledge to see more, but the glare of the sun would have made it impossible.

That's him.

Bella startled, gripping the window frame. "Jesus!" she yelped, swinging her legs into her apartment to prevent her from falling. "You can't just sneak up on me like that."

That's Edward.

Bella's head snapped up.

Yes, the guy with the long fingers and lovely forearms is Edward.

Bella blushed.

Don't worry. I can't read minds... I've just heard countless women talk about him, and I could see you admiring him.

"So let me get this straight. This Edward that you want to talk about is the guy next door?"

Yes, and I don't want to just talk about him. I want you to help me get his life back on track.

Bella balked at the suggestion. "I'm sorry, Esme. I already told you it doesn't work like that."

How do you normally do this?

Normal was not a word that often applied to Bella.

"People come to me and I help them."

That's what I'm doing.

"You don't understand. These days it's normally people from... this side who approach me."

I need you, Bella.

"But I'm used to living people asking me to help contact their loved ones... not the other way around."

Well, I can't see the difference.

"Of course there's a difference. What do you want me to do? Knock on his door and say 'Hi, I have your mom with me and she wants to talk to you.'?"

Now you're just being silly. We'll have to be much more discreet than that.

Bella sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I really want to help you, but I'm not sure I can. I only deal with people in my world who want my help. I don't go around forcing it on them. And quite frankly I have no desire to get myself committed. He'll think I'm crazy."

No he won't.

"With all due respect, Esme, I'm the one with the experience here."

Please help. He's lonely and he's stuck in a job that depresses him, and quite frankly shouldn't be doing, and I hate seeing him so miserable.

"You could say that about most people our age," Bella muttered, trying hard to ignore the growing desperation emanating from Esme.

I want him to go back to college and finish his degree. Edward always had dreams but he's given up on them. I worry about him.

Her voice was filled with sadness, but Bella couldn't let herself be swayed. It felt wrong to interfere in a grown man's life simply because his overprotective (not to mention very dead) mother was unable to let go.

"He lives in a nice apartment in a nice part of town, he's lucky to even have a job in this economy, and by all accounts he's a good-looking guy. If he's as miserable as you say he is, I'm pretty sure it won't last long."

So you agree he's good-looking?

"No, you're the one who said girls find him attractive. I haven't even seen him yet." Bella dropped her head into her hands. "And please tell me you are not here to set me up with your son, because that would just be beyond creepy."

Esme's silvery laugh tinkled like a wind chime. I'm not trying to set you up.

But the mirth quickly evaporated when Esme spoke again.

I can't rest until he's happy.

"I understand that, but people don't always welcome the interference."

You think I'm interfering?

Bella chuckled. "You're his mom. I'm pretty sure it's in the job description."

She was rewarded with another delightful tinkle of laughter. I like you, Bella... especially your honesty.

Bella ruminated on the conundrum for a moment, and then with a heavy sigh she spoke again. "Let's just play it by ear. Quite frankly, it's been a long time since I've done it this way and I don't want to anger or upset him."

Whatever you think is best, dear. I'm sure everything will be fine. He's a good boy.

Bella's thoughts returned to those masculine forearms and she had a hard time thinking of the owner as a boy. When the unexpected desire to see the rest of him hit, it troubled her. It had been a long time since she'd felt any kind of desire.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Bella settled into the rhythm of her new life. Her main reason for moving to the other side of the city was to prevent old clients referring new ones to her. At her old apartment it was common for people to turn up unannounced.

Even though this area was just as nice as the one she'd lived in previously, the rent was much cheaper and wouldn't eat into her savings so quickly.

She was serious in her decision to stop actively seeking out spirits for loved ones, and so she'd changed the number on her cell and moved. She couldn't turn her back on the few clients she had who still needed her, so she'd passed her details on to them with strict instructions not to recommend her to anyone else.

Two such clients were Mrs. Carson and her son Tom who arrived at precisely six o'clock as arranged.

Mrs. Carson complimented Bella on her apartment while handing over her jacket; however her son chose to complain about the longer journey they now had to make to see her. Bella didn't care much for Tom Carson. She could never figure out why he accompanied his mother because he took every opportunity to voice his skepticism.

He brushed past Bella wearing an expression that conveyed distaste and slung his jacket haphazardly in the direction of her outstretched hand.

How rude.

Bella tried not to smirk at Esme's comment. It was the first she'd heard from her this week. However, as nice as it was to hear her voice, Bella wished she hadn't decided to make an appearance while she was working.

Ignoring Tom's rudeness, Bella led them to tiny spare bedroom that was completely dominated by a large round table. She winced when Tom sat down and the small wooden chair creaked precariously under his considerable bulk.

The room descended into silence and Bella tried to clear her mind to establish a connection. Normally she could clear her mind easily, but since her thoughts had been filled with Edward for most of the day, a vision of him popped into her head.

Bella smiled when she recalled the encounter in the elevator. She had made the mistake of arriving home at the same time as everyone else coming home from work, and as they all jammed into the elevator that always smelled like gym socks, someone pushed hard into her side and a heavy bag landed on her left foot. As her hand shot out to remove the weight, the same long fingers of her next door neighbor reached out to beat her to the task. The zap of electricity that bolted up her arm could only have come from Esme's excitement.

Unprepared as she was, his sheer beauty had knocked the breath out of her lungs when she looked up at him. She'd been unable to stop her eyes from roaming over the planes of his face, drinking in the exquisiteness of his high cheekbones and marvelously chiseled jaw. Distracted by the fluid movement of his soft-looking, full lips, his words had been lost to her ears. It wouldn't be until later that she would remember the husky timbre of his voice.

She was sure she'd imagined the spark that flared in his intense green eyes right before the other occupants of the elevator had gotten involved and ruined the moment. Looking harassed, he'd muttered an apology, picked up his bags, and hotfooted it out of the elevator.

Esme's presence had been strong, but when Edward made his hasty exit so did she, leaving Bella with the knowledge that Esme's appearances were dependent on Edward's proximity.

He's looking skinny.

Bella's lips curved upwards at the sound of Esme's voice, and forgetting her immediate surroundings she responded at once. "He's far from skinny."

She knew that Esme had been referring to Edward; unfortunately for her, her guests did not.

Two outraged gasps snapped her back to the task at hand.

"How dare you!" Tom yelled.

Bella jumped to her feet. "No. I didn't mean you. Please... I'm sorry. Someone is just leaving," she said pointedly. "I was addressing her."

Tom rolled his eyes and glared at his mother as if somehow Bella's outburst was her fault.

The rest of the consultation passed without incident and Bella was relieved to establish a good connection with Tom Carson Sr. During their last visit his spirit had been too agitated for Bella to understand him, and his skeptical son had ruined the mood further by constantly interrupting to interrogate Bella about every single detail she could offer. This time, though, Tom Sr. was far more receptive to Bella and she managed to pass on the things he hadn't had the chance to say to his wife before he died.

Mrs. Carson had cried throughout, but it was a good kind of crying. In an unexpected show of tenderness Tom Jr. had taken his mother's hand in his and held it until it was time to go. Mrs. Carson thanked Bella profusely at the door, but Tom said nothing, which in itself might have been construed as a thank you.

The remnants of another hot day lingered in the stuffy air in her apartment. Opening her window to let in the breeze, she grabbed her journal and eased out onto the ledge. The brick was pleasantly cool beneath her outstretched legs and she sighed in appreciation, heaving some of her tension out through her lungs.

She opened her journal, ready to write, but a conversation filtering out from the open window of Edward's apartment caught her attention.

"Man, fucking always makes me hungry!"

"In that case, you must be hungry all the time."

It was with relief that Bella recognized the second voice as Edward's. Sure he'd only said a few words to her, but she'd never forget a voice like that. Closing her journal, she tilted her head towards the window and listened harder. She could hear the sounds of cutlery hitting plates and they didn't say much for awhile, clearly concentrating on their food.

He's with Michael. I'm not sure I like him.

"Who's Michael?" Bella asked without turning towards Esme's voice.

He works with Edward. Actually, I feel bad for not liking him. He really helped Edward when he needed it, by getting him that job.

There was hesitation in Esme's voice, and Bella instantly suspected she was hiding something.

Before she could address the lie, her attention was diverted by a loud burp emanating from Edward's window.

"Jesus, Mike, you have the manners of a pig." Edward's complaint drifted through the window. "And you eat like one."

"But I'm hung like a stallion," Mike retorted with a braying laugh.

"With that laugh you're more like a donkey than a stallion. It's a good thing they pay women to have sex with you."

Mike's response made Bella's jaw drop. "Hey, I get paid too. It's not like they're prostitutes. Oh, that reminds me, did you speak to your hot new neighbor yet?"

"She's not a prostitute," Edward muttered, lowering his voice.

"And you know this how?" Mike's question was goading. "Did you talk to her?"

"No."

"Jesus, Edward, you have hot women slipping you their numbers on a daily basis but you never call them – and now you can't even pluck up the courage to say hi to a hooker."

"She's not a hooker!"

"Please." Mike snorted. "You told me yourself that she has people coming and going from her apartment at all hours. She's either a drug dealer or a hooker. I'm guessing hooker, and I bet we could get her to audition for a film."

Bella almost toppled off the window ledge at the shock of realizing they were speaking about her. Who the hell was this Mike and how did he even know about her? Her head was spinning trying to make sense of their strange conversation about hookers and films.

Mike was still talking. "I'd be more than willing to do the audition with her." His loud laugh was annoying.

"Don't you ever switch off?" Edward sounded irritated now.

"I will when I'm dead," Mike quipped. "And stop trying to change the subject from your hooker."

A shudder rippled through Bella. If he irritated her this much alive, she shuddered to think of being pestered by him in spirit form.

"Stop calling her that." Edward's voice was severe. "She's mostly visited by women."

Bella was secretly thrilled that, not only was Edward defending her, but he had clearly noticed her enough to mention her to his friend.

"Maybe she's a lesbian hooker."

"The odd guy turns up from time to time."

"Maybe she lets them watch."

"For fuck's sake, Mike."

I wish he wouldn't use language like that.

Bella shushed Esme to concentrate on being nosy.

Mike laughed raucously. "You seriously need to talk to her. Actually, I have an idea. You should have a party and invite her, that way I can talk to her. I'll get more out of her in five minutes than you've managed to get in weeks."

"I'm not having a party... not after last time."

"Jesus, for a guy who works in porn, you're annoyingly prudish at times."

Bella's eyes bugged. Porn?

Please don't judge him.

"Why not?" Bella asked, turning her attention to Esme once again. "You do it."

I'm not judging him. I'm just disappointed that he didn't follow his dreams and is now stuck doing something that doesn't make him happy.

Esme's protestations fell on deaf ears because Bella was too invested in the conversation going on next door.

"My fucking sister was there," Edward ground out, his voice so low it sounded like a growl.

"It was just a bit of fun."

"Fun? She walked in on your orgy."

"Relax. She was totally cool about it." He leaned forward. "If you ask me, I think she has a thing for Jasper."

"I didn't ask you," Edward snapped.

There was a long pause before Mike spoke again.

"You're so tense, dude. You need to get laid. Why don't you give Roxie a call? I saw her slip her number into your pocket earlier. She gave the performance of her life today and I think it was down to a certain someone."

"It annoys me how you don't use their real names. Her name's Tanya, and I'm sure she's a great girl–"

"She's a great lay," Mike interrupted.

"Whatever. I'm not interested."

The window slammed shut, cutting Bella off from the rest of the conversation. She half expected Esme to voice another opinion, but she was gone.

Now she understood Esme's attitude towards Edward's job. Even though she had no right to feel that way, she couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed that he had sex for a living.

She stayed out on the ledge to write in her diary, becoming so absorbed that she startled when he spoke.

"Aren't you cold?"

She hadn't heard his window open. Moving carefully, she looked over her shoulder and saw Edward sitting on his own window ledge. His long legs were bent at the knee and she noticed he was holding onto his window frame.

"A little," she answered, adjusting her position so she was facing him.

"I'm sorry for running out on you the other day. Is your foot okay?"

"You didn't run out on me," she said. "And it didn't really hurt."

His chuckle sounded like a soft rumble. "You're being too kind." He paused, looking out over the city. "You know, I've lived here for two years, but I've never sat out here before."

"It's the closest thing we have to a yard," Bella said, keeping her eyes trained on him.

He laughed. "Don't you like the courtyard?"

When she'd first viewed the apartment she'd seen the small communal courtyard at the back of the building. It was a small square area with a few benches and some overgrown weeds, hardly inspirational.

"I prefer the solitude of my window ledge," she said, smiling at Edward. "And the view is much better up here."

"Why thank you," he joked.

"Wow, your modesty becomes you," she fired back.

His eyes sparkled with mirth and his gentle laughter delighted her.

Letting go of the window frame he pointed at her journal. "What are you writing? If you don't mind me asking."

She looked down. "No, not at all. It's just my diary. I'm thinking of writing a book about my exploits as a hooker."

She felt a little guilty when Edward's jaw dropped.

"I'm just kidding," she explained, shrugging. "Sorry, I couldn't help but hear part of your conversation earlier."

"I guess I didn't close the window quickly enough. I'm sorry you were subjected to Mike's insanity."

"I don't mind. It was kind of flattering to know that I'd been noticed."

"Oh you've been noticed alright," he said quietly. "What else did you hear?"

Her cheeks heated. "That you work in porn."

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and she caught the flicker of uncertainty in his expression. "I'm a cameraman."

Bella smiled. "I thought maybe you were an actor." Her blush deepened; she couldn't believe she was sitting on her window ledge telling a perfect stranger she thought he was a porn star.

"Does it bother you?"

His question was unexpected. "No," she answered only half-truthfully.

"My job is usually a deal breaker when it comes to relationships... and friendships," he added hastily.

Bella nodded. "I know how that feels."

"So, since Mike is completely wrong about you. What do you do?" Edward shifted in a way that told her he was becoming uncomfortable on the ledge.

Tell him.

Esme's sudden return surprised her.

"I'm a medium," she blurted in the vocal equivalent of ripping off a Band-Aid.

"Like a fortune teller?"

Bella sighed. "No. I can't see into the future or anything like that." She braced herself for his reaction, expecting him to either treat it as a joke or make a hurtful comment.

Instead he smiled. "You see dead people?"

Relief washed over her. "I'm no Haley Joel Osment… but yeah, something like that."

Edward regarded her for a long moment before speaking. "And how does one get into that profession?" There was a hint of teasing in his voice.

"One is born into it," she responded in a fake British accent, relieved that he hadn't retreated into his apartment and slammed the window on her.

The night air was much cooler now, and Bella shivered as a crop of goose bumps sprung up across her arms.

Edward must have noticed because he immediately invited her inside for coffee.

"It's getting late," Bella said, but when she noticed Edward's shoulders slump a little she added, "Maybe some other time."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said, swinging her legs off the ledge and into her apartment.

"You didn't tell me your name," he called after her.

She leaned her upper body out of the window to find him mirroring her action. "It's Bella."

He leaned forward as far as he could and held his hand out to her. His skin was warm when she pressed her palm to his. Pleased to meet you Bella," he said softly while giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm Edward."

He held on to her for a moment before letting go.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, ducking back through her window.

"Come over at six," he called just before his window slid closed.

Even though she could feel Esme's presence, Bella knew the excitement coursing through her was her own. However, her excitement was quickly tempered by the worry at what his reaction might be to learning that she "knew" his mother.

He likes you.

"Yeah, well I'm not sure how long that will last. Especially when he finds out I've been talking to you."

Thank you for reading

Kat