A/N: This is unedited for the time being. I didn't get time to send it to my beta, and I wanted to get it posted today, since it's within the theme of Labor Day. I'll repost once it's all fixed. Enjoy!

Running into a Stranger

"All right, burger meat, salad fixing, watermelon, chips... hmm, what else."

I peruse my shopping list while I stand in the middle of the snack aisle, wishing I had brought a pen to mark off all the items as I get them.

I also wish I had asked my friends to bring more stuff for the barbeque, but I wanted to host my first backyard party at my new house without any help.

"Oh, beer!" I say loudly, and look around to see if anyone has heard. There's an old man standing in front of the crackers, but I don't think he heard me.

I walk a few aisles down to where the liquor is kept. Then I freeze, at a complete loss of what to pick up.

"Shit," I mumble, looking at all the different selections. "Well, Rose doesn't like anything but lite, Alice likes wine coolers, Emmett likes ale, Jasper likes... what does Jasper like?"

I bite my lip, thinking hard. What the hell does he like?

I sigh in frustration, mad at myself for not thinking to ask. Finally, I give up and whip out my phone. I send a message to all four friends, requesting they bring their own. Once done, I nod and smile, and then look back up to decide what I want.

I'm not much of a drinker, something that all my friends, especially at college, think is weird. It just wasn't something that was done in my house. Sure, Charlie had a few beers once in a while and Renee had a glass of wine with dinner occasionally, but me, I just didn't see the appeal.

I shrug and settle on plain ol' Mike's Hard Lemonade, figuring that it'll taste pretty good since it only has five percent alcohol in it.

As I'm lugging the six pack off the shelf—something that will probably last me a few weekends actually—I see someone standing nearby, looking at the shelves as well.

"Shit, what the hell should I bring?" the man says, running his fingers through his reddish brown hair and then settling his hand on the back of his neck.

He sighs, and then looks over, and notices me watching. I blush and look down, but not before I see him smile at me, a crooked flash of white teeth.

"I'm going to a party today, I have no idea what to bring," he explains without waiting to be asked. "Any ideas?"

"Um, Labor Day party?" I ask tentatively. I don't normally talk to guys this hot.

"Yeah, and I don't know anyone at the party," he says with a chuckle. "My brother invited me, and I don't want to show empty-handed. I feel weird enough going to a stranger's party."

"Well, I'm not much of a drinker, so I probably wouldn't be much help," I shrug, wishing I could tell him the opposite.

"Neither am I," he says, turning to me and smiling again.

"Seriously?" I ask, grinning.

"Seriously," he laughs, shaking his head. "Wow, its so rare to come across people our age that don't drink."

"Tell me about it." I roll my eyes. "When I turned twenty-one, all my friends wanted to do was take me to the bars and get me drunk."

"And did you?" he asks.

"I had one drink, and played some pool," I tell him, and then laugh. "My friends ended up being grateful to have me as the DD."

We both laugh; I love the sound of his, so deep and carefree.

And oh so infectious. I find myself casting around for something else to talk about.

"I think I'll just grab a case of beer," he decides, grabbing one of the larger packs. I catch myself staring as his biceps flex with the weight of the box.

"Um, so," I say stupidly, tearing my eyes away from the way his shirt strains slightly against his muscles in his upper arms. "What time is the party?"

"Not for a few hours," he says, looking down at his phone. "I have a list here of other stuff I need, but I have a feeling it's going to get pretty busy here soon."

Sure enough, even as we're standing there, a group of loud college boys, some that I recognize, come stomping down the aisle. They're all hooting and yelling, pushing each other around. I see Jacob Black and gasp.

"Oh, God," I mumble, starting to turn away, but it's too late.

"What-"

"Bella! Hey!" Jacob yells, interrupting the man I was talking to. He lumbers over, leaving his buddies at the other end of the aisle. "What's going on?"

"Hey, Jake," I say, grimacing as he wraps a sweaty arm around me. I pat his back gingerly, holding my breath so that I can't smell him.

"What's with all the grub?" he asks, gesturing to my basket. "Are you having a party?"

"Uh-"

"If you are, I'm pretty offended I wasn't invited," he says, pulling a fake pout and putting a hand to his massive chest.

"I'm just picking up a few things," I say, trying to back away slowly. "I was thinking of having the girls over, and, um-"

"It's not even eleven yet, you have plenty of time to shop," he says, trying to take my basket from me and lowering his voice slightly. "Why don't you and I go somewhere and, uh, hang out."

He wiggles his eyebrows, looking at me lewdly. I suppress a groan.

"Actually, we were just going to get some coffee," the God-like creature I was talking to cuts in.

"Uh, yeah," I say, cottoning on. "Sorry, Jake, we were shopping together and already planned to go out. Have fun with your friends."

The guy takes the case of Mike's from me, and I follow him to the front of the store, leaving a frowning Jacob behind me.

"Geez, that was close," I breathe when we're out of ear-shot. "You really didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it all the same."

"No problem," he smiles and shrugs. "He was a creep anyways. Did you guys date?"

"Definitely not," I clarify. "Unless you count the one time he crashed my friend, Alice's, end of term party and spent the whole evening getting drunk and hanging all over me."

"Uh, no, I would not," he laughs.

"Thanks again," I say, reaching out for my drinks. "I'll just get out of here."

"Whoa, whoa, what do you think you're doing?" he says, holding the bottles out of reach.

"Um, going to pay for my stuff?" I say, furrowing my brows in confusion.

"We're shopping together, remember?" he says, nodding over my shoulder.

I turn slightly and see Jake and his friends again. He seem to have already gotten over my rejection. When I turn back around, Edward has already set my stuff with his on the check out counter, and motions for me to set my basket up there too.

"Is this separate?" the checker asks, and I can't help but notice how she keeps staring at him.

"No," he says, smiling at me. I open my mouth to respond, but he's already swiped his credit card through the machine.

Once outside, I turn to accept my bags.

"You really didn't have to do that," I insist.

"No biggie," he shrugs, walking into the parking lot; I hurry to catch up with his long strides.

"Um, I really should get home," I say, trying to match my steps to his.

"Where's your car?" he asks; I point and he leads the way.

"I should really go," I repeat, popping the truck of my car.

"You're supposed to come get coffee with me, remember?" he says, loading the groceries into the trunk.

"On one condition," I say, holding up a finger. He waits expectantly. "I pay."

He smiles and beckons me across the parking lot, to Starbucks.

"So, you know my name, but I don't know yours."

We're sitting outside, clutching our cold drinks—it's much too warm out for hot coffee—on the front patio of the coffee shop; an umbrella above is shading us. I can tell it's going to be a hot day.

"You're right, you don't," he chuckles, holding out his hand. "Edward."

"Edward," I repeat, liking how uncommon it is. We shake and then I ask, "does anyone call you Eddie?"

"No," he laughs.

"Ed?"

"Never."

"Ed-O."

"What?"

"Big E?"

He laughs, and I take a sip of my Mango Refresher, proud of myself for getting the reaction I wanted out of him. When he stops, he shakes his head.

"I don't think I've ever heard so many variations of my name," he says, taking a drink of his sugary frappachino.

"What are you having, anyways?" I ask, peeking over at his drink. It's brown and chunky.

"Mocha Frappachino," he answers. "With extra chocolate."

"Sounds... sweet?" I say; he laughs.

"It is," he nods, and then holds out his cup. "Want to try it?"

My eyes widen slightly at his offer. We've known each other maybe fifteen minutes, and he's already sharing drinks with me?

Not that I'm really complaining.

"Uh, sure," I say, leaning forward and taking a sip.

I feel like I'm drinking a chocolate shake.

"Is there even any coffee in there?" I laugh, licking my lips for any stray chocolate.

"A little," he shrugs, looking down briefly. He then looks up, pointing to his lip. "You, uh, have something on your lip there."

"Hmm?"

I stick my tongue out, swiping it across my lower lip. He shakes his head, pointing to the corner of his own mouth. I try there, crossing my eyes as look down my nose. He gives a small laugh, and reaches out.

"Um, here," he says, using his thumb to rub at a spot on my mouth.

He lingers for a moment, his green eyes locked on my mouth. When he still doesn't remove his hand, I feel my face grow warm.

"Did you, uh, did you get it?" I ask quietly.

"What? Oh, um, yeah, I did," he says gruffly, pulling his hand away. I feel myself blush even more, if that's possible.

After an awkward pause, I take a sip of my drink and then decide to break the ice.

"So, Edward, do you go to school?"

And we talk.

We talk about school, and how he's a business major and I'm a psychology major.

I tease that he's going to spend the rest of his life in a suit, he jokes that I probably psycho-analyze everyone.

We talk about roommates, and I tell him about how I just got my own little house, a few blocks away from campus and he talks about his roommates and how messy they are.

I laugh that he's going to end up in a career as a maid, he tells me I'm lucky to have my own place that I don't have to share.

He tells me he can cook, while I admit to being capable of burning water.

I suggest he should cook for me sometime. He doesn't say no.

After a while, we move onto the subject that I had hoped I would be able to guess through our conversation: significant others.

"You didn't want your boyfriend to move in with you?" he asks, avoiding my gaze as he plays with the straw in his almost empty cup.

"Maybe if I had one," I tell him, biting my lip when I see him grin widely. I pull my lip out of my teeth to ask the question that I had assumed because of his reaction to my dating situation. "What about you? Anyone special?"

"Naw," he says, leaning his chair back on two legs. "I haven't had a date in... damn, six months!"

"Eight for me," I admit with a frown.

"A beautiful girl like you?" he says. "I don't believe it."

So I tell him about my last date—actual date, not Jacob slobbering all over me—and how the guy had 'conveniently' forgotten his wallet after we had a dinner of lobster and shrimp, and he tells me about the girl who spilled every drink on his lap that was brought to the dinner table.

He gasps at my date, I laugh at his.

We talk about our first loves when we were kids, mine being a boy in second grade, his being in the first grade.

Both ended in heart break.

Then we talk about our favorite foods, his being the typical guy answer of pizza and mine being pasta. We wonder how it would be to eat only those foods the rest of our lives

We joke that we'll end up fat if we did.

"You could never be fat, Bella," he says softly. I can't help but blush.

"What about after I have kids?" I ask, shaking the ice in my empty cup. "Everyone gains weight after kids."

"You'll still be beautiful," he shrugs.

I blush again.

We talk about kids, and how many we want. I'm an only child, so I want a big family.

He only has one brother, so the same goes for him.

I hear a beeping sound, and Edward grimaces as he reaches into his pocket.

"Oh, shit, that's my brother," he says, quickly typing on his phone. "I told him I'd be back in ten minutes."

"How long has it been?" I ask curiously, fishing out my own phone to check for messages.

"Two hours," he grins.

"We've been talking that long?" I ask incredulously. "It didn't even feel like it."

"I know," he says, still smiling.

We sit and stare at each other for a few moments, neither of us wanting to leave, but both knowing we have things to do.

"Well..."

"Yeah..."

"I hate to say it, but I need to get going," he says sadly.

"Me too," I say, equally disappointed.

We both stand, wave awkwardly and walk back to our cars.

As soon as I'm driving down the street to the gas station, I realize we never exchanged numbers.

I'm pretty bummed.

I pull up to pump number five and get out my credit card. I don't necessarily need gas, but I might as well get it while I'm out so I don't have to worry about it.

I step out of my car, my face still set in a sad frown, when I hear someone chuckle.

I know that laugh.

"Long time no see, stranger," Edward says on the opposite side of the pump I'm at.

I can't do anything but grin stupidly.

"It was fun talking with you," he says, coming closer. "And I was an idiot and didn't get your number."

"Oh!" I say, reaching back into the car for my phone. "I figured you just, you know..."

I trail off, shrugging.

"That I didn't want it?" he asks, holding out his cell. "Not a chance."

We type our numbers in and trade again.

We fill up our tanks, chatting again.

We both ignore the pumps when they click to tell us that we're done filling.

We both jump when we hear a couple of cars honk at us.

"We're monopolizing the pumps," I say, waving at the car behind me to indicate I'm about to leave. They give me the finger.

"People are just impatient," Edward says, shaking his head.

We get into our cars, Edward promising to call, and drive away.

I'm home for ten minutes when I realize I don't have salad dressing.

I go back to the store.

He's there again.

I find him standing in the condiment aisle as well.

"Okay, you must be stalking me now," I joke, one hand on my hip.

He turns and grins, his hand halfway to the barbeque sauce.

"Nope, just lucky," he says with a shrug.

"What are you looking for?" I ask, coming up to him.

"Well, I came for maple syrup because I want pancakes for breakfast," he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But I ended up going down the wrong aisle, and got distracted."

"Pancakes are my favorite," I say, practically moaning.

"I make pretty awesome pancakes," he says with a wink.

After I grab some Ranch dressing, we walk past the condiments. Slowly, we head to the breakfast aisle.

We start talking again.

I tell him I wasn't allowed sugary cereals as I kid. He was.

I point out my favorite kind of maple syrup. He grabs it.

He tells me he hates oatmeal. I have to be in the mood for it, and I can actually do the microwave kind.

He tells me he'll try it sometime, if I make it for him.

I blush.

I realize we've been wandering the store for almost half an hour.

I offer to pay for his maple syrup. Surprisingly, he lets me.

"I don't think I've ever ran into one person so many times in a day," he says, as we stand at my car. He looks to the left and laughs. "I even parked next to you."

"Yup, you're definitely stalking me," I nod.

After telling me he'll call—again-we both head home. I'm not even in the door when my phone chimes.

Can't I come to your party instead tonight? -E

I set the Ranch on the counter and smile.

You don't want to disappoint your brother, do you?-B

Sigh. I shouldn't. My brother will be pretty pissed if I don't go.-E

It would give you the chance to meet some new people. -B

I already did. -E

I'm glad you're not here. I'm bright red right now. -B

I've seen that before. I like it. -E

What are you doing now? -E

I'm going to cut up some watermelon for the party. -B

Don't cut your finger off. -E

No promises. ;) -B

I'm serious. I really don't want you hurt. Plus, an ER trip would out a damper on the party. -E

Good point. Okay, I'll be extra careful. -B

What are YOU doing? -B

Trying to decide if I should wear a green button up, or a blue. Girly, I know. -E

Only a little. -B

What would you choose for me? -E

Green. -B

Done. -E

I smile the whole time I'm getting the party stuff ready.

I text Emmett, and he tells me what kind of rub to put on the burgers. I successfully cut the watermelon without cutting myself and arrange it on a platter. I empty the bag of lettuce and another of croutons into a giant wooden bowl and fluff it up with some wooden tongs. I go through my purse and find my iPod and try to decide what kind of music to put on.

I pick up my cell again, think for a split second and then make the call.

"Okay, now I can't decide on whether or not I should wear a tie," Edward says as a way of greeting. The phone only had to ring once.

"Where's the party going to be?" I ask, sticking my lemonades in the fridge.

"Uh, someone's house?" Edward says slowly.

"Inside, outside, is it a barbeque, a dinner party..."

"Outside, I think. Barbeque.

"No tie."

"Done. I hate them anyway."

"What kind of music should I play?"

"Where's the party?"

"Outside barbeque."

"Time?"

"Sunset-ish time to whenever my friends decide to go home, or I kick them out."

"Start with something upbeat, but not terribly loud. Then move onto something smoother for when its about dinner time. End on something mellow, maybe even ballad-y."

"Got it."

"What's for dinner?"

"Burgers, salad, watermelon- as you already know- and I think my friend is bringing some potato salad, I got chips of course. Everyone should be fat and happy by the end of the night."

"I thought you couldn't cook. Who's going to do the burgers?"

"My friend's boyfriend."

"My brother makes awesome burgers. He has this great rub that he puts on them. Its a secret, though, according to him."

"My friend texted me the rub. There's coffee grounds in it. Amazing."

We keep chatting while I get the house ready and he gets himself ready. He even takes a three minute shower, with me on the phone in his bedroom, all because he doesn't want to end the call.

I try not to think about him in the shower. Much.

I set out candles on the big picnic table outside for when it gets dark, he shaves.

I debate on whether or not to use a tablecloth, but he points out the candles on it as he attempts to comb his hair.

I set the phone on the bathroom counter while I put on a simple dress, he whines that he wishes he could be there.

I put the phone on speaker while I put my makeup on, he tells me I'm pretty enough without it.

The doorbell rings.

"Crap, my friends are here," I say, and sigh.

"I should go too," he says. "I promised my brother I wouldn't be late."

"Have fun?" I suggest.

"I'll try," he says, and I hear what I'm guessing is his front door open. "Can I text you while I'm there?"

"Only after you try to mingle," I tell him.

"Mingle, shmingle," he mutters; I hear the jingling of his keys.

I hang up just as I hear Alice pound on the door right before she bursts in. I hurriedly connect my iPod to my stereo and press play.

"You took too long," she complains; I'm only halfway to the door.

"Sorry, I was on the phone," I tell her, and then regret it immediately.

"Who with?" she asks, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter.

"No one," I say as nonchalantly as possible, letting my hair swing forward to hide my face.

"Evening, Bella."

Jasper, Alice's boyfriend, comes in, holding a case of beer. I look at it and laugh.

"Are you going to drink all thirty two in there?" I ask as he sets it on the floor in front of the fridge.

"I figured I'd share," he says as he puts a few in the fridge to cool. "The rest I can take home."

"No, you won't," Alice tells him. "No one likes the kind you do, so there's going to be a million of them left. They'll take over the whole fridge!"

"Yes, dear," he mumbles.

I hear the door open again. Rose and Emmett enter without even knocking. They join us in the kitchen, Emmett with a case of lite beer for him and Rose to share. I tell Alice about the Mike's Hard Lemonade I got, figuring she might like them, too.

"I hope its okay, Bella, but I invited my brother," Emmett tells me, once he's popped open a beer and we're headed outside.

"He's pretty lonely," Rose tells me, holding a bowl of chips."He's real nice, though."

"Sure, we have plenty of food," I shrug, another selection of chips in my hand.

"You might like him," Emmett tells me. "He doesn't drink either."

I feel a twinge in my stomach and set down the chips with slightly trembling hands.

Edward's like me, he doesn't drink.

I try not to think about him. I barely know him, but I can't help but feel a weird connection already.

I hope I see him again.

My phone dings.

I answer it so fast I see Alice turn and look at me curiously.

Of course I get lost. Awesome. So much for being on time. -E

That sucks. Can you call your brother? -B

I sent him a text but he's bad at responding. I think my phone has GPS. -E

You don't know? -B

I don't get lost. Usually.-E

Sure, you don't. -B

I have a feeling you're laughing at me right now. -E

Maybe a little. -B

How nice of you. I think I found it. I better go 'mingle'. -E

Yes, you better. -B

I hear the doorbell echo through the house.

Huh. Weird coincidence.

"I'll get it, it should be him," Emmett says. He sets down his beer and jogs into the house.

I pick up a chip and shove it into my mouth, a little wary about meeting Emmett's brother, only because I don't want to be set up.

I'm sure that's the plan when Alice grins at me.

I sigh and turn around as I hear footsteps coming closer.

"Hey, everyone, this is-"

"Edward."

"You guys know each other?" Emmett says in confusion, looking from my wide eyes to Edward's blinding smile.

"Since when?" Alice asks quickly. "Bella, you didn't tell me about him."

We stand and stare at each other.

"Just met today," Edward says, stepping forward.

"Kept bumping into each other," I say, slowly lifting my lips into a smile.

"We couldn't figure out what beer to get," he says, still coming closer.

"Neither of us drink," I laugh.

"Got some coffee," he says, shrugging, still walking.

"After he got rid of a goon for me," I snicker.

"We got some gas." He's mere feet from me.

"Ranch dressing and maple syrup." I can smell him, he's so close.

"I'm planning to make some pancakes." He's right in front of me.

Its just the two of us, as though everyone else has disappeared. I can see the sunset reflecting off his pale skin and in his deep green eyes. His hair is ruffled by the breeze, and I can smell his shampoo.

"I changed my mind," he breathes into my face.

"About what?" I ask, my forehead creasing.

"I do want to come to a stranger's party after all."

A/N: This is my first completed O/S that I was able to post. I did one for Fandom4Oklahoma, but didn't get it ready in time, so I saved it for Fandom4Animals. I'm proud to say I was right on time, but it can't be publically posted for quite a while.

I'm thinking of doing a little O/S once a month or so, to keep my readers happy (hopefully) and to get some creativity out so I can go back to focusing on my full-length fics. I don't mean to be slow on updates but RL is, as a reviewer put it, a bitch. The O/S's will focus on whatever holiday is going on during that month (watch out for December, I have SO many things in mind!). I really hope you liked this. Leave me love if you did, please!