Disclaimer: All settings, characters and the like that are recognizable are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: This work of fiction is rated M for language and adult situations. If you're not old enough for either of those, please look elsewhere

Chapter 1

May 15, 2002

"Come on, Bella," Alice said, shoving a scrap of fabric on a hanger into my hands. "It's the last party of the year. You have to go."

"I don't like parties," I stated emphatically, pushing the hanger back into her hands. "You know that."

"Since when don't you like parties?"

"Since forever."

"You are such a liar. You're just afraid that Tyler is going to be there."

"Not true."

Totally true.

"Totally true," Alice said with a roll of her eyes. "But you shouldn't let a little creep like that get in between you and fun."

"He's not a creep."

"He is too. I can't believe you ever dated him."

"I didn't date him. I went on a few dates. Less than two to be exact. Big difference."

"Tell that to him."

"I have!"

"Either way, what are the chances that someone like Tyler is going to have an invitation to a party at Emmett's house? Think about it."

She had a point. Emmett McCarty was the school's star baseball player, and known for throwing the most outrageous parties with a very exclusive invitation. I'd only been to one of his parties in the three years I'd been at the University of Washington, and that had only been because he had been dating my then roommate. It had been a party the likes of which I had only seen on TV – costumes, elaborate decorations and free flowing alcohol. It was exactly the kind of party every college student should attend, and exactly what I need after a harrowing week of exams.

"I won't know anyone there."

"Whatever. You know everyone, Bella."

"What's the theme again?"

"Tennis pros and country club hoes."

"How original." I rolled my eyes. There had been at least five parties with similar themes since finals ended – the classic pimps and hoes party; naughty schoolgirl and dirty old man… you get the picture. I had assiduously avoided every single one of them.

"It's not the most original, I'll give you that. But I promise it will be fun. And the dress I got you isn't too trashy; it borders on classy even."

"A classy country club hoe?" I snickered.

"Just put it on and get ready Bella." She shoved me towards the doorway of my bedroom, and placed the garment bag in my hands. "The party starts in an hour and I am not taking no for an answer."

The exterior of the house Emmett McCarty shared with his three roommates looked even more like a country club than usual, which was quite a feat considering it sat along a golf course. The transformation wasn't surprising really. Emmett and his roommates were rumored to hire party planners for their big parties. That was where it came in handy to be a trust fund baby; not that I'd know anything about that. While my parents were both well off in their own rights, they didn't provide a lavish lifestyle for me. I still survived on ramen and easy mac like the majority of the co-eds on campus. But tonight, Alice and I would be breathing the rarefied air of a different crowd, thanks to Alice's newly formed friendship Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," I grumbled, tripping over the platform shoes Alice had shoved onto my feet. I looked down at the dress that barely covered anything, feeling more and more like a sausage with every passing minute. The tight dress was exactly two shades darker than my nearly translucent skin, giving the illusion that I was naked, which I practically was. I had been confused as to what constituted the front of the dress, thanks to the plunging neckline and non-existent back; the skirt thankfully went to mid-thigh, a full three inches longer than the bandage that covered Alice's body. At least I could be thankful for that.

"We'll get a few drinks in you and you won't even notice."

"Get a few drinks in me and I'll be lucky to make sure my boobs haven't popped out."

"Now that," she laughed, tucking her arm through mine, "would make things get interesting."

The backyard was full of people, the party in full swing by the time we arrived. We slipped into the party through the side gate, waved in by a pair of JV baseball players Alice knew from one of her classes.

"The bar's over there." She nudged me in the direction of a standalone bar, through the crowd of scantily clad women and men competing for their attention. There were really only two types of male costumes tonight – the jokesters going for a laugh with Andre Agassi 1990s era wigs, and the ones with their Lacoste sweaters draped artfully over their shoulders. Personally, I thought they all looked like douchebags, but I kept my mouth shut.

After two drinks, my feelings towards the majority of the party going crowd improved; I was a true example of alcohol helping in any situation, which was a good thing considering that I was in the middle of slurping out the last possible drop of vodka from the bottom of my glass when Alice rammed her elbow into my ribs.

"Ouch!" I shrieked. "What was that for?" I looked over at Alice to see a goofy smile covering half of her face. That could only mean one thing.

I followed the track of her eyes and groaned when I saw Alice's current obsession Trevor headed in our direction. I had heard of nothing but the amazing qualities of Trevor for the past two months, when Alice had run into the varsity baseball player at the gym. I'd spent more hours than I would like to recall chasing him around campus with Alice. I frankly didn't see it; while he was classically handsome, there was something about the way he looked at me that gave me the creeps. There was definitely something a bit sinister about him.

"Alice Brandon," Trevor said, coming to a stop in front of us. He tipped his glass in our direction before taking a drink. "Aren't you looking delicious tonight?"

I groaned and barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at his lines. He had gone the Lacoste route, of course, and had a pink sweater wrapped around his shoulders.

He scowled in my direction. While I could say many things about his character, I couldn't deny that he was perceptive.

"Isabella," he nodded.

"Trevor."

He turned his attention back to Alice, the smile returning to his eyes. "I was looking for you all night."

"You were?" Alice giggled. I knew I was going to be subjected to this nonsense unless I got out of there quickly. I made my excuses, and scurried off before Alice could stop me, making a beeline for the bar and another vodka tonic.

Once my refill was in hand, I wandered through the crowd, stopping to make small talk with familiar faces I saw along the way. Despite my protests otherwise, I knew a surprising number of people. I wasn't overly involved, but between my involvement in the chamber orchestra, my unfailing attendance at morning yoga classes and my interactions at the business school, I'd met practically everyone at the party in one way or another.

"Bella!" A voice called from behind me, halting me in my tracks. A smile crossed my face before I turned around and saw the crooked smile that accompanied Jasper Hale on a regular basis.

"Hey Jasper."

He came to a stop, and leaned forward to brush a kiss across my cheek. Jasper was one of my fellow chamber orchestra members, and the best cellist I had the chance to meet in my short twenty years.

"I didn't know you'd be here tonight."

"Alice dragged me," I replied with a shrug.

"Ah, the elusive roommate of yours. Am I ever going to get a chance to meet her?"

From the moment I met Jasper, I had thought Alice would be perfect for him. I had tried, unsuccessfully, to arrange a meeting. Alice was always jumping from one infatuation to another, and had little interest in meeting my "cello friend" as she liked to call him. The end result was that instead of meeting nice guys like Jasper, she chased after idiots like Trevor.

"She's around here somewhere." I waved my hand in a circle over my head.

"Isn't that always the case?"

"True," I nodded, taking a drink from my vodka tonic. "But it's a little too late to do the whole introduction thing, don't you think?"

A crooked smile covered his face and he tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Meeting a girl the night before I'm leaving for London probably isn't the best scenario."

"Yeah, probably not," I smiled. "I still can't believe you got that internship. That's incredible."

Jasper had been awarded one of four coveted orchestral internships at the university's summer program in London. The internships always seemed to end up going to grad students, and it was rare for an undergrad to get a slot. Then again, Jasper was a rare kind of guy.

"I wish you'd reconsider coming and visiting."

"I have to go spend the summer with my Dad; you know how he gets." I deepened my voice in imitation. "This is your last summer at home Bella. You've got plenty of time to go gallivant once you're done with school."

Charlie, my dad, had come to a parent's weekend earlier in the spring, where he had set out to scare the living snot out of every single guy I'd introduced him to – Jasper included. It hadn't mattered how many times I'd assured him that none of them were my boyfriend. He's…a bit protective to say the least.

"Well if you change your mind, you've always got a place to stay. You could bring Alice." He waggled his eyebrows.

"I'll keep that in mind." I looked down at the empty glass in Jasper's hand, and then at my mostly empty cup. "Want another?"

"Sure." He raised his cup. "Jack and coke?"

"You got it."

I turned around and made my way back through the increasingly drunk crowd – let's just say that the country club hoes were starting to live up to their name. I shook my head as I walked past two scantily clad girls dancing with each other, clearly trying to grab the attention of the John McEnroe look alikes. I wasn't sure what I found more disturbing - the fact that they're doing it, or that it appeared to be working. Both really.

I got the refills quickly and was on my way back to the spot I'd left Jasper when I saw Tyler Crowley's familiar face across the room.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself, slouching to try to blend into the crowd; not a hard feat when you're 5'3" like I was. Score one for being short.

Tyler's wasn't a bad guy, really he wasn't. He was just a little overzealous when it came to me. I had gone on one and a half dates with him (half only because he'd bumped into me when Alice and I were out getting ice cream and the traitor had left me to fend for myself at the sight of Trevor – yet another reason I resented him). Those one and a half dates were all it took to catch his interest; he'd sent countless text messages and left at least fifteen voicemails since that fateful night two weeks ago. Apparently my lack of response wasn't discouraging enough.

I snuck through the crowd, doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone, and didn't notice that Jasper was no longer alone until I was practically upon them.

"Bella!" Jasper smiled, reaching out his arm to take his drink from my hand.

I smiled back at his friendly greeting, knowing it was at least partially for the drink I gave him, and lodged myself at his side. While he wasn't the tallest guy in the room, he would provide enough of a cover for me.

"Thanks," he said, tipping the glass in my direction.

"Not a problem." I took one more drink and finally looked up at Jasper's friend. I nearly choked.

Standing there, not two feet away, watching my every movement, was none other than Edward Masen. It shouldn't surprise me considering that he was one of the guys that was throwing the party, but it did. Edward was something of a legend on campus – for his musical genius, athletic prowess and for the string of women he'd left heartbroken. It wasn't often that you found someone that could play the piano and hit home runs - both on and off the field. He had been voted the campus's most eligible bachelor for two years in a row, and from what I had seen and heard, had no intention of giving up that status. Despite knowing his reputation, I had been intrigued by him from the moment I laid eyes on him, not that he had a clue who I was.

Edward's green eyes sparkled as he swept them down my body, his lips curving into a smile when he decided to return his gaze to my face. I felt myself flush, which only further embarrassed me. It was a vicious cycle.

Edward looked between Jasper and me with a smile and said something to Jasper, which was undecipherable over the thumping music pouring from the speakers.

Jasper shook his head and leaned towards me. "Have you met Edward?"

"No I haven't." I'd like to think that my feminist revulsion at his reputation had overridden my libido for the past three years. Then again, I had never been this close to him before. Right now, my libido was putting up one hell of a fight with my inner Gloria Steinem.

Jasper motioned for Edward to take a step closer to us. I felt a chill when the fabric of his shirt brushed against the bare skin of my arm, and immediately squashed it down. It wouldn't do to think about Edward Masen. I should know better.

"Edward Masen, this is Isabella Swan."

"Bella," I corrected.

"Are you and Jasper…?" Edward asked, waving his hand between us.

"No!" I said, a bit too emphatically.

Jasper laughed and shook his head. "No. I'm afraid I didn't make the cut."

"Oh hush." I slapped at Jasper's arm. "I am the one who didn't make the cut," I teased. While I could admit he was an attractive guy, it had never been like that between us. We had been like brother and sister from the moment we met.

Edward's smile widened, and I opened my mouth to say something that I hoped would be witty, and came out as nothing more than an "Urrgghh" when I spotted Tyler walking towards us purposefully.

"Um," I looked around for the nearest exit. "It was nice meeting you Edward." I turned to Jasper. "I'll call you tomorrow. I've… got to go."

I spun on my heel and lost myself into the crowd without waiting for a response, so set on getting away before Tyler could corner me. I ducked into a group of dancers, pushing my way through their obstacle course and into a darkened corner. I knew it was kind of childish of me to duck and avoid, but the four cocktails I'd imbibed hadn't helped my maturity level in any way, shape or form.

Thanking my mother for my small frame yet again, I slid behind a massive speaker and watched as Tyler passed by me, completely oblivious to the fact that I was less than two feet away from him.

I spent the next hour behind various objects – at one point I even slipped behind the bushes to avoid being spotted. I saw more than I cared to; the girls were definitely living up to the hoe moniker for the night. I barely made it out from the crook in the wall before I saw Jessica Stanley - slut extraordinaire - devour Edward Masen like a praying mantis. There were some things that were best left to the imagination, and Edward Masen's bedroom habits were definitely one of those things for me.

When I felt my buzz start to wear off, and all the alcohol in my system began to press to get out, I changed my mission. I had only been here once, but I remembered exactly where the bathroom was – it was where I'd spent most of the night holding back Alice's hair after one too many tequila shots.

The door was locked, and I got a stern reprimand from the two (or more) occupants inside when I tried the handle. Fantastic; apparently a regular bedroom wasn't good enough for the hoes tonight.

My options weren't great at the moment; I either had to find a second bathroom or go hang out in the bushes again.

"This is why you shouldn't wait," I chastised myself as I trudged up the stairs.

By some stroke of good fortune, the first door I tried was an unlocked and unoccupied bathroom.

I took a moment to examine myself in the mirror once I'd relieved myself, and scrunched my face in displeasure. My normal pallor was tinged red from the vodka I'd consumed; my hair was a wild mess as usual (rubber bands and my hair didn't exactly get along); and the dress? I couldn't believe I let Alice talk me into something so low cut, even if it was for a costume party. I was lucky that my boobs hadn't popped out; scratch that, I was lucky that I wasn't aware if my boobs had popped out. Knowing my luck, I had probably been walking around the party like Tara Reid at some point.

I shook my head and splashed some cold water on my face, accepting that it wasn't going to get much better than this. Maybe if I was lucky, I would find Alice and we could get out of here. Or, more likely, maybe I could sneak out without being spotted. I gave myself one more glance in the mirror before peeking my head out into the hallway. Once I was sure that it's clear, I slipped out, shutting the light off behind me.

I was no more than five steps away from the bathroom when I spotted Tyler's head ascending the stairs.

"Fuck," I grumbled, taking a step back to the bathroom I'd just vacated. The door was locked. Somehow, someone snuck in there within the last five seconds. What amazing luck I was having so far!

I looked around desperately, spying three closed doors in the opposite direction of the stairwell. I dashed madly towards them, trying one and then another that were both locked.

"Please work," I whispered to the door Gods and reached for the last handle. "Please, I beg of you."

The doorknob turned under my hand, and I let out a sigh of relief. I cracked the door open only far enough to slide inside, and shut it again silently behind me, turning the lock to keep me inside and Tyler Crowley out. As soon as I heard the click of the latch sliding in place, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door with a sigh of relief.

"Should I leave you alone in here?" a voice sounded, jolting me out of my thoughts. I jumped away from the door so quickly that I tripped over my own feet, the too-high heels that Alice had shoved my feet into only exacerbating my stumble; I managed to right myself before I ended up face-planted on the ground.

"Shit. You startled me." I straightened myself and peered across the dimly lit room to identify the intruder. The single lamp illuminating the room was behind him, and all I could see was his silhouette. It was all I need to see.

Edward Masen. Twice in one night, imagine my luck. Well, three times if you count me nearly being an unwilling participant in his exploits with Jessica downstairs.

"Figures." I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that?"

"Sorry." I shook my head and took a step forward, looking down to make sure that my dress was still in place. It was. "I thought…erm…I'll just go." And face Tyler Crowley.

"Don't." The one word was apparently all the encouragement I needed. I took another step forward against my better judgment.

"I don't want to interrupt…"

"All you'd be interrupting is my self imposed solitude. Isabella, right?"

I swallowed. "Bella."

"What's that?"

"Just Bella."

"Didn't Jasper introduce you as-"

"He did," I nodded, twining my fingers into each other in an effort to control my movements. "But it's just Bella."

"Bella." His voice sounded almost like a song when he said my name. "Why don't you sit down and join me, Bella?"

He pointed to a spot on the bed beside him, and despite knowing that it was not the best idea to join someone that looked like Edward Masen, with Edward Masen's reputation, on a bed in a darkened room, I did exactly as he said. It wasn't as if my night could get much worse, right?

I settled next to him, though as far away as I could be without falling off the mattress, and he turned to face me.

"What are you running from? Or perhaps I should ask who?"

"What?" I shook my head. "What makes you think I'm running from anything?"

He chuckled, the rich tone of his voice filling the otherwise quiet room. "You ran off pretty quickly downstairs, and then you locked that door in record time. I know the look of someone who is being hunted, Bella."

His words sent wicked thoughts through my mind; thoughts of Edward Masen doing the hunting, and I doubted that anyone had ever run from him.

"I wouldn't say I'm being hunted."

"Pursued?"

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my hands. "Annoyed perhaps."

I felt his weight shift off the bed and looked up to see him walk over to a desk and pour something into a highball glass. With his back to me, I took a moment to take in everything about him, from the top of his wild, copper-colored hair, to the way his shirt was rumpled at the small of his back. When he turned back to face me, his lips were curved up into a smile.

"Ah, yes, annoyed is one of the many stages of pursuit. Can I ask who is doing the annoying?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I highly doubt you would know him."

"You never know. I know a lot of people. Any particular reason he's pursuing you tonight? Other than the obvious." He ran his hand up and down the air in front of me lazily, and I felt myself flush. "Nice dress, by the way."

There was no way that Edward Masen had just complimented me. No way at all.

"He's not pursuing me," I reiterated when I was able to form a coherent sentence.

"Yet you had to sneak into a darkened room and lock the door?" he quirked an eyebrow. "You'd prefer to be locked in here with a virtual stranger than face someone that isn't pursuing you?"

He had a point.

"Not that I'm complaining," he continued. "I am happy to corroborate and hide you from whomever it is out there."

He walked back to the bed, sitting closer to me than before and offered me the glass. "I wasn't expecting company. I don't mind sharing if you don't."

I reached out and took the glass from him, eyeing him over the rim as I took a drink. Whiskey. It burned a trail down to my stomach, but I somehow managed to keep a cough from escaping my lips.

I wiped an excess drop of liquid from the corner of my mouth with the back of my wrist and handed the glass back to him.

"What are you doing in here alone? In the dark. Isn't there someone somewhere that is willing to keep you company?"

"Is this a game of twenty questions?"

I shrugged. "You've been the one doing all the questioning so far."

"Very true." He took a drink from the exact spot my lips had touched. "Let's just say that I was also…annoyed. I came up here to get away."

"You didn't look to be annoyed when Jessica Stanley was draped all over you." Shit. Word vomit. I sounded jealous, even to my own ears.

His eyebrow quirked up ever so slightly. "You saw that?"

"The entire party saw that." I thought. I hoped. I overcompensated my disinterest so that he didn't think I was interested in him in that way. I wasn't.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"You're saying you didn't like that?" I scoffed and reached out to take the glass from his hands again, feeling more comfortable as the whiskey did its trick.

"Don't like being mauled in public by a virtual stranger?" he chuckled. "Not particularly."

"That's not what I've heard. Or seen for that matter."

"What have you heard then Isabella Swan?"

I paused, the glass in midair at his use of my full name. "Bella."

"Bella," he corrected.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"What reputation would that be?" I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Or kiss it. No, wipe it. I should not be thinking about kissing Edward Masen. It was bound to lead to nothing good.

"Come on," I rolled my eyes. "As if you don't know."

"Humor me." He ran a hand roughly through his mop of hair.

"You must know that you have a certain notoriety on campus."

"I'm guessing as something other than a piano virtuoso?"

I snickered to myself as I imagined the gaggles of his devoted followers focusing on Edward Masen's skill on the piano instead of in the bedroom. Somehow I didn't think the Jessicas of the world would be the type to be overly impressed with a rendition of Chopin, unless of course it ended with a Pretty Woman–esque encounter on the piano. Unfortunately, I could picture what that would be like a little too well; those long fingers of his moving off of the piano keys and onto my ivory colored skin, which was undoubtedly a healthy shade of red at that thought.

I needed to stop thinking of Edward in that way.

I cleared my throat. "I don't believe your skills as a pianist are at the forefront."

"Is that so?"

"That's so," I stated resolutely.

"Hmmm." He leaned back on his arms, perfectly framed in the light behind him. "What then am I known for?"

"I think Jessica Stanley may be a little more qualified to answer that a little more completely than I can." I shifted back until I was practically falling off the bed, feeling suddenly uncomfortable being this close to someone like Edward.

"I doubt Jessica is more qualified to do anything than you."

"I'm sure there are a few things," I mumbled. Like, say, anything he would be interested in. My sexual experience was limited; Jessica's was...not.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I'm just saying that perhaps you could get a more thorough answer from someone that is your target audience; like Jessica."

"What makes Jessica my target audience?" he asked, his eyes full of mischief. "Unable to talk back?"

I tried to suppress my smile unsuccessfully. "Hey, she's your type, not mine."

"Since you know so very much about me, tell me what exactly makes her my type?" His words were mocking, but I couldn't hold back.

"Everyone knows the three things you like, Edward. All the girls you date are tall, dumb and have big racks." Everything I was not.

His shoulders shook with laughter. "I'll give you that she fits all of those categories…but I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with that profile being my type."

He took the glass back from me and stood up to refill it, resuming his spot when the glass was full. He placed his lips to the rim, taking a long drink before offering it back to me.

"In fact," he picked up right where he left off. "I'd have to vehemently disagree with two out of the three."

"Which two would that be?" I drank, closing my eyes to savor the liquid as it burned a path of warmth through my body.

"Dumb only works for so long. If I plan on saying more than three words to a woman, I prefer her to be intelligent."

I nodded. While Jessica Stanley wasn't known for her IQ, at least two of the other women I'd known to be associated with Edward had been on the better side of the intelligence spectrum. Not rocket scientists, but also not girls who were only concerned with matching the color of their shoes and purse either.

"And as for the…rack," he continued, raising his eyebrows. "I try not to discriminate, but since we're being open here, anymore than a handful seems to be a terrible waste." His eyes dipped down to the front of my dress, and I felt even more exposed in the plunging neckline than I had all night. I felt as if he could see right through the nude colored fabric. He took a pull of the whiskey, his eyes never venturing above my collarbone. "Is it my turn for a question?"

I swallowed. I felt ridiculously overheated under his gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose so."

"It's something that I've been wondering since I saw you tonight."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he nodded. "Something, in fact, that I was contemplating when you walked in here."

"What's that?"

He leaned over me, setting the half full glass on the nightstand and shifted back until his face was mere inches from mine.

"Edward?" I asked after what seems like an eternity of silence.

"Yes, Bella?"

"What's your question?" I tried to sound as calm and collected as possible; I didn't think I succeeded.

"Right," he smiled. "The question. What…exactly…" his eyes dipped down to my chest again. "Does one wear under a dress like that?"

I forgot how to breathe. It felt as if I had been punched in the stomach.

"Because," he continued without my response. "It appears as if you aren't wearing anything at all." His eyes trailed up slowly to meet mine, the green depths glinting with mischief. "Are you wearing anything at all under your dress, Bella Swan?"

His question momentarily stunned me. This was Edward Masen, and I was ...me. The fact that he even noticed me, much less wondered what my underwear was like (which, let's face it, wasn't that much to talk about in this dress), was a bit much for me to handle.

"Excuse me?" I asked, shaking my head in an effort to make some sense out of the moment.

He chuckled and reached his hand out, his fingertips brushing the length of my bare arm. "You are a beautiful woman, Bella. I can guarantee you that I am not the only one who wondered if you had anything on under that."

"Um..." Great. I was mute apparently.

My entire body reacted when his fingers reached my shoulder and continued their path along my collarbone and to the nape of my neck. A wave of chills, followed immediately by incredible heat passed through my body at his touch.

"Are you going to tell me?" he smirked. "Or am I going to have to find out myself?"

I licked my lips and tried to form a coherent thought other than Edward Masen is touching me!

"I've got to admit," he continued, moving even closer to me until I felt his breath on my lips. "I'm kind of hoping you make me find out myself."

I opened my mouth to respond, closing it again when no words come out.

"How have I not seen you before?" he asked. "Three years at this school and this is the first time I've laid eyes on you?"

I shook my head. It wasn't. He had seen me plenty of times; we had two classes together. He'd just never noticed me. I guessed the naked dress played a role in this, not that I cared at this moment.

"I thought you were here with Jasper when I first saw you. I was…jealous."

I didn't stand a chance of comprehending his words when he was this close to me.

"Edward." My breath came out in ragged gasps. Embarrassing.

"I've never been jealous. Ever."

"You don't know me."

"I don't need to. I feel like we're connected."

It sounded like a line. It probably was a line he'd fed to numerous women, but I felt it too - an odd attraction that I'd never felt towards another human being in my life. Maybe he felt it too. Maybe this was that serendipity that my mom blathered on about so much. Maybe it wasn't. All I knew was that I wanted Edward like I'd never wanted anything before.

His hand forced my head to tilt back ever so slightly. "I'm going to kiss you. Say the word and I won't."

I didn't say anything, afraid that anything I said would be taken as a negative, and he followed through on his promise.

This wasn't the first time I'd been kissed – far from it – yet when his lips brushed mine, I felt like I was back in the basement of Mike Newton's house where I had been kissed for the first time. My skin felt clammy where he wasn't touching me, and burned where he did. I made a noise when his tongue brushed the corners of my lips, and it wasn't one of protest. I couldn't form a thought other than "Wow! Wow! Wow!"

I leaned back, and nearly fell off the edge of the bed I was balancing so precariously upon, but Edward caught me in his strong arms and pulled me flush against his body. I reached out and clasped the front of his shirt, both to prevent my fall and because I had an overwhelming need to touch him back.

His hands moved up into my hair, and tugged the loose rubber band from my tousled hair, sending it into wild disarray over my shoulders. He pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, reaching out to toy with a loose curl.

"You're beautiful rumpled like this," he said. "More beautiful than I thought possible."

I had been called beautiful before, but not by men who looked like Edward. The funny part? It didn't sound like a line he had used on countless women. The thought of Edward' s women caused an unwanted vision of Edward and Jessica entwined on the couch downstairs to flash before my eyes. Reality came crashing down on me. What was I doing? How did I end up on a bed with Edward Masen?

"I don't think we should-"

"Shhh," he interrupted, placing a finger on my lips; a finger it took everything in me not to kiss, or bite, or…something. What was wrong with me? "Hasn't anyone ever told you thinking is bad for you?"

Not exactly.

"I should…go. I think that-"

He silenced me with his lips, melting me into a puddle of nothingness. "Don't think, Bella," he murmured against my lips. "I won't hurt you. Don't overanalyze it. Let yourself feel."

I didn't know what it was about those words; maybe it was the way Alice always said I was too critical; or the way my Mom told me I think about everything too much. Whatever it was, Edward's words resonated with me. It was the last night of my junior year. What better time to let myself go?

Almost as if he could sense the exact moment I decided to give in, I felt his lips curve into a smile against mine just before he shifted our collective weight, sending our bodies rolling over one another until we are both firmly on the bed.

"That's it Bella. Let yourself feel."

I was on sensory overload as his hands skimmed the length of my body; they seemed to be everywhere at once, touching, brushing, and squeezing me into compliance. His lips trailed along my jaw, blazing a path to that sensitive little patch of skin below my ear.

Being kissed by Edward Masen was unlike anything I had felt before. I clasped at him, drawing him closer to me; wanting to somehow devour him so that I could feel like this all the time. My fingers twined in that wild, coppery hair and I heard him whisper my name before his mouth returned once more to mine. I could taste the whiskey on his lips, though I was sure he could say the same of mine. Our tongues took turns dominating one another as our bodies melded together.

It was suddenly too hot, even in the excuse for a dress my skin felt like it was on fire.

"Edward," I mumbled incoherently against his lips. He knew what I needed without me even asking for it. His fingers, which had been toying with the curve of my waist, found their way up to the straps of my dress. In one swift motion, the shoulders of the dress were pushed down, the fabric pushed down the length of my arms before pooling at my waist. He pulled back, taking a break from his leisurely exploration of my mouth, and shifted his gaze to my bare chest.

"Nothing," he said, a smile curving his lips. "If I'd known for sure you had nothing on under there, I don't think I would have lasted as long as I did."

His head dipped down as he placed a kiss on one breast, and then the other. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on my skin. I resolved to give into this feeling thing more often if the results were like this.

"Beautiful," he whispered against my skin. I wanted to pinch myself to ensure that I was not dreaming, but even I didn't have fantasies like this – fantasies where the most sought after man on campus was not only kissing me, but whispering words of desire against my overheated skin.

When I could not take it any longer, I pushed us both to an upright position and pulled his face back up to meet my own in a searing kiss. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, clumsily tugging as the stubborn holes impede my attempts to undress him. I was sure we make quite the sight, me naked from the waist up and nearly naked everywhere else, and Edward still fully dressed, his wild hair tousled even more than usual.

I let out a cry of triumph when I managed the last button, and shoved the fabric roughly down his arms.

"Aren't you full of surprises?" he chuckled as he assisted in the removal of his shirt.

"In for a penny…" I trailed off with a giggle. In for a pounding, as Alice liked to say. Who was I kidding? Of course that's where this was leading; I couldn't deny that it was exactly what I wanted to happen. Not to myself, and not to Edward.

"Tell me what you want Bella." His voice was rough, his breathing ragged. "I won't do anything you don't want me to."

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I wanted, and closed it again when I heard a knock on the door.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Ignore it." He leaned forward and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the curve of my neck. I sighed in pleasure and nodded, melting against his body once again. His hands spanned my waist as he pulled me tightly against him, my legs on either side of his.

The knock sounded again, and I did my best to ignore it. Whoever was on the other side of the door probably was looking for an empty room. They would go away eventually.

Edward's hands danced up the length of my thighs, pushing the tight skirt of my dress ever higher. His fingers grazed the tops of my thighs and were mere centimeters away from where I wanted them to be when the knocking started again. Only this time, it was accompanied by a voice.

"Edward Masen, I know you're in there." The voice was high and shrill. I knew exactly whom it belonged to.

"She'll go away," he whispered against my skin.

"Are you trying to punish me for being late, Edward?" Jessica Stanley continued from the other side of the door. "Do you want me to beg?" Her words were so laced with innuendo that I felt sick. A chill ran across my skin and I shoved Edward's hands out from underneath my skirt.

"What?" I asked, looking at Edward for some sort of explanation. "What is she saying?"

"Edward!" She continued to pound on the door. "Don't play coy with me. I'm here to do all those things you asked me to downstairs."

I shoved myself off of Edward's lap, scrambling off the bed to right myself. "Were you expecting someone else?" I asked, covering my nakedness with my hands. "Was all that stuff about hiding out from Jessica Stanley a joke to you?"

"Bella." He reached out and clasped my wrist in his hand. "Don't. Come back here. I'm not done with you."

I shook my head. The knocking continued.

"I think you have other engagements." I pointed my hand violently in the direction of the door.

"Come back, Bella. I want you, not Jessica. I don't even like her."

"Yet you scheduled a meeting in a dark bedroom?" I laughed incredulously.

"I don't want her, Bella." He tugged on my hand gently, and I tripped over my feet. "I want you. Only you. I…" he trailed off. "Didn't even know it was possible to want someone this much."

"Please don't use your lines on me." Somehow I managed to wrestle my arm free and slid the bodice of my dress back in place. "Don't make it worse than it already is."

"Bella." He scrambled off the bed in a flash, stopping in front of me. He reached out and tried to take my hand in his. I slapped it away.

"Don't."

"Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain. You're Edward Masen. I should have known better. I thought…I thought I was different." I ran a shaky hand through my hair. So much for not analyzing anything. "But I guess that's what guys like you bank on. Shame on me I guess."

"That's not how it is." He reached up and cupped my hand in his face. I felt like crying, but I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears of self-loathing. "You're different Bella."

"Just stop! Please."

"Let me just talk to her; send her away. I don't want you to go."

"It's fine." I closed my eyes in an effort to re-center myself. "I'll just go. You can…" I swallowed. "Pick up where we left off with Jessica."

"Stay." His voice broke and I looked up to see his eyes focused on my face, imploring silently for me to agree.

I shook my head and turned around, making my way to the door on increasingly precarious legs.

Please just let me get to the door and get away, I silently chanted. I felt Edward behind me every step of the way, and let out an involuntary shudder when he reached around me and placed his hand on the door.

"Don't go."

"I have to."

And I did.

He eventually let me remove his hand from the door; let me turn the lock and swing the thing open to reveal a slack jawed Jessica Stanley.

I didn't say a word to her – couldn't even look in her eyes – as I shoved past her. I heard Edward call my name, but didn't turn around. I needed to get away, far away, before I did something stupid like turn around and give him a chance. I should have known better – Edward Masen had his reputation for a reason, and I should have known by now that a tiger never changes its stripes.

AN: Well, there it is…my first stab at a Twilight fanfic. I hope you all enjoy it! Oh, I also should add that I started this out in present tense and switched to past tense, so I'm sure this chapter is riddled with tense issues that shouldn't be there going forward. Yay for going beta-less!