Seriously peeps...mind the ratings. Basically, if you aren't old enough to vote, you shouldn't be reading this.

Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I just like to play in her proverbial sandbox.

BPOV

This wasn't my first encounter with Edward Cullen. He may never have noticed me, but nearly every female in the world has noticed him. Edward came from a long line of successful businessmen that were rumored to have impossibly more secrets than dollar signs. Over the last century, his family's accruals ranged from oil refineries and banking to print media and real estate. His grandfather, Marcus Cullen, is said to have ties to the Italian mob, but there had never been any proof of such a thing. His parents, Carlisle and Esme, were well-known in the non-profit circuit for their genuine interest in fundraising and volunteering, not to mention their ability to bring celebrities flocking into Seattle for each $10,000-a-plate dinner benefitting a new hospital wing. Carlisle was an astute businessman in his own right, but handed over the family reigns so he could continue to build on his passion for practicing medicine full-time. He was renowned for his surgical work, and Esme for her architectural and interior design. I had been back and forth via email with Esme over the past several weeks, tossing ideas around for a full-service fashion house to pull all our business, production, and design aspects under one roof. She was an amazing sounding board, speaking to me as an equal, and we worked well together. I had been looking forward to our first face-to-face meeting in a few days at a nearby café that she swore had the "best coffee and best blueprint-sized tables imaginable". Her excitement for the project was contagious, and I had been looking forward to it.

I had run into Edward, quite literally, sometime in the fall my sophomore year of college. It was 45 minutes to game time, and I remember the roar from the football stadium in the distance, and the crunching of leaves and gravel under my feet. The sun had been attempting to break through the stereotypical Washington clouds to no avail, and my mood followed suit. I had been making my way across the 3 blocks from the dorms to the stadium by foot, and was stopped while cutting through the parking lot by a wave from my friend Angela over to her boyfriend Ben's truck and their small group of tailgaters. A red solo cup was thrust exuberantly into my gloved hand, five minutes turned into two hours, and amongst our jokes and embarrassing tales of frat parties, I realized that I was laughing a little too boisterously and stumbling a bit too much. Some guy that Alice had dated for a few weeks our freshman year tossed his arm around my shoulders in the equivalence of a wet blanket, and I suddenly wasn't enjoying myself as much anymore. Angela, in all her sober driver glory, generously offered me a lift back to my dorm, which I accepted eagerly, all intentions of half-hearted football viewing lost.

We began the walk to another part of the parking lot where she had parked her sedan, weaving in and out of the crowds of grillers, corn hole players, and over-imbibers. It was then that a football flew over my head, and I was slammed into from my right side, throwing me harshly to the ground in a cloud of crushed gravel. Large, strong, warm hands pulled me upright, a little too closely, and then brushed me off from shoulder to knee while lingering briefly at my hip. With a mumbled "sorry", the stranger jogged back to his game of catch. By the time I looked up, Angela helping to assess the non-existent damage and whispering excitedly, I could only see the back and broad shoulders with the name CULLEN stretched across the well-worn tee I recognized as standard issue from the school's baseball program. The offender reached up to remove his baseball hat, exposing a head full of copper-colored hair while wiping his forearm across his brow. I wanted him to turn around. I was silently begging for it. If only I could just see his face. If only he looked at me, standing upright now, liquid courage and windblown hair and scuffed tennis shoes. Angela shook me from my reverie, bringing me to my senses before we continued on our way.

I fell into some sort of bizarre routine for the remainder of that year. Alice and I Facebooked him one drunken night, long before privacy settings and newsfeeds. He didn't appear to have a girlfriend, but was always surrounded by gorgeous women in his photos, some that I recognized from TV or magazines. There were quite a few of him sitting in exorbitantly expensive cars, or with teammates, or goofing off at a party while flashing a crooked grin with such bright green eyes that each picture clicked made my knees grow weaker. If I wasn't thinking about Edward, I was seeing him so much around campus that I questioned my sanity. He was nowhere, and then he was everywhere. And I was drawn to him in a way I couldn't control. I don't think he noticed me, because he probably would have called the police if he had. It would be when I was exiting a class, a brush past me that was so very brief that if not for his sandalwood scent and the goose bumps along my arms, I wouldn't have known it was him. Or at a party, our hands accidentally touching while waiting for drinks at the bar. But then it turned into every class, and every party, and suddenly I found myself attending his baseball games, and I felt like it had not been coincidence but my own doing all along. I was uncomfortable with what had turned into my obsession, and knowing that he was graduating that May made it a little easier to see the light at the end of my unhealthy, quasi-stalker tunnel.

I never saw Edward again, and I honestly didn't think about it. I suppose it may have been a combination of a summer away from campus, the demand that Alice swear to never speak his name again, and the desire to forget about the embarrassing but typically Bella interactions, but it wasn't until I connected with Esme for AWD that the memories began to flood my dreams and the pieces clicked into place. I did the typical 'What If?' game before falling asleep each night that women are prone to do with their over-thinking and love of fantasy. But that's all it felt like – a fantasy with too many years passed us by. Alice urged me to Google him, or do some clever Facebook stalking, but it all seemed pointless. Where would that get me? More mob rumors? Pictures of him with supermodels to fully cement me in my pit of depression? Either I would desire him more, an unrequited crush to add more disappointment to my bleak, fucked up love life, or it would turn out that he didn't live up to the fantasy I had conjured in my head from the 45-second interaction in my memories. Those things were laughable, and better left in the past where they belonged.

"I was driving by and saw something that I had to have immediately."

His voice was like velvet, warm and enveloping in a way that sent a tingle down my spine and made me shudder and want to rip off my clothes. He was commanding, with no question that he was the type of man that was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. He was in a black suit and patent leather shoes with a black overcoat, his white collared shirt and black tie peaking just over the top button. He seemed broader, stronger, taller…maybe 6'3" or 6'4". I tilted my head to the side in question, afraid to speak but wanting him to elaborate. My blood rushed, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my head. Surely the entire store could hear my heart hammering from my chest? Surely he could hear what he was doing to me? I felt like such a fool. I wished the ground would swallow me up to save me from his intense scrutiny. I wanted him and hated him, the combination of feelings swarming around my head shocked me, and soon the tell-tale blush crept across my face, warming me further and causing my breath to come out in a pant. He grinned crookedly at the sound, looking me up and down slowly in a way that felt appraising and intrusive. I shook my head in an attempt to dispel the cloudiness. I wanted to shrink into myself further, but saw Alice continue to move along the racks in the corner of my eye, her presence giving me the boost of confidence to level my gaze with his own.

"I knew it was you."

I wasn't sure what to say. My heart skipped a beat, thumping lamely and drawing me into the intensity surrounding him. Two men, also dressed in black suits and sunglasses unnecessary indoors and especially on the grey winter day, flanked him on each side, looking in my direction but expressionless.

"Um…is there something I can help you with?" I stammered. "This is Rose's store. I'm actually here with my friend. My friend Alice. We're shopping. Alice Whitlock. She has, well, we have…it's mainly her but I, well, we own AW Designs, and not this store. This is Rose's and…wait…what?"

I quickly shut my mouth. My God. Can I just think before I talk? Ever?! I had half the mind to run out of the store screaming, but was waiting for him to do so first. Was this a joke? Why was it silent in here? Why was everyone staring at me? I chanced a look around. The music was still echoing around the shoppers, minding their own business and immersed in their own conversations. Rose had taken off towards the fitting room with a run of sizes for a customer. Alice was debating several artfully crafted belt buckles for Jasper. The only person staring at me was Edward, yet I was trapped in a spotlight of his making that I had no escape from. He ran his thumb along his bottom lip in thought, almost as if debating whether or not to speak again or to allow me to dig my pit of embarrassment even deeper. He chuckled, sending a different type of warmth through my body.

"I remember you so well. The dreams do you no justice. I've seen you, you know. In newspaper articles, small clips showing your business. I knew you were close. Jesus, I had so many chances. Our paths were supposed to cross so many times. Something always came up. Some damned flight out of the country, some stock plummet, some mismanaged appointment that caused me to miss some dull plated dinner where we'd finally talk and things would end up the way they were always meant to."

He continued his expectant gaze, waiting for my response but not sensing my shock. This was not Edward Cullen. This was Fantasy Edward. This was laughable. I started to grow angry with myself and with Figment Edward. Maybe I was hit by a car on my way to Rose's. That must have been it. I must be dead, or in some sort of medically-induced coma. "Typical Bella", they'd all say. Typical fucking Bella indeed. Even my subconscious was cruel.

For the first time since his entrance, Figment Edward appeared to lose some bravado. He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other, and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck in what must have been Figment Edward's nervous habit. A giggle sounded somewhere nearby, beginning to erupt into a full-blown laugh. I clutched my side.

Oh. That sound was coming from me.

Now Edward pursed his lips, his grin morphing into a frown. Imaginary Edward was not supposed to frown. That wasn't something he did. He didn't even know how to do that. Reality began to set in when he spoke again.

"Isabella, are you okay? I know this is really unorthodox. I have just been preparing this whole speech in my head for years and it is not coming out right. Jesus, you sound fucking crazy, Edward…" he trailed off, appearing to be talking to himself now, and began to pace back and forth, "…and you admit you're in love with someone that you've never met. And you think they are just going to walk off into the sunset with you? Oh, it's just me, mia bella. You don't know me but I have been secretly revolving my fucking life around yours for the past decade, no big deal…"

His admission caused me to snap to attention. I started to respond, when I felt several shopping bags thrust into my hands.

"Bella! I'm all done. You're going to love what I grabbed for you in here. Great job on the sweater choice, might I add. There may be hope for you yet! Oh! And I set up a meeting with Rose for Saturday after your meeting with Esme, if that's okay. She's tailoring a few of your dresses and she'll bring them with." I simply nodded, and it was then she noticed Edward standing across the table of cashmere that I now would sadly associate with feelings of deep-seeded public humiliation. Goodbye, cashmere. We could have had so many amazing times together.

"Hello! You're Edward Cullen! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Alice. I'm fantastic, and you would be too if you let us dress you instead of Tom Ford. I swear, that man's suits never change. It's one thing to love a classic, but you have to live a little. Your mother Esme is positively fantastic. She's working with Bella on a huge expansion for our design house and please, please, please you absolutely MUST come by for a fitting immediately! I won't take no for an answer! We're going to all be the best of friends, I just know it! I see great things for us!" She slapped him on the back, catching him wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. Now it was my turn to laugh again. Leave it to Alice to take control of a room.

"It's best that you don't resist her. It's futile." I grinned, earning his in return. This wasn't so bad, dream or not. I could do this. Sure. Yeah. I could definitely do this. I could talk to this man in a human, non-creepy type of way. I'm sure we could put that whole Obsessive Bella business behind us. "I do remember you, Edward," I said softly. "I just don't know how to respond. This is kind of surreal, you know? Maybe we could…"

"Dinner!" he blurted a little too loudly. The two men standing by him looked at each other and shook their heads, apparently entertained by what seemed to be out of character for Edward. He chuckled again, and a little quieter elaborated.

"Dinner. Anywhere you want. The sky is the limit. Have you been to Paris? We could go to Paris. Tuscany? I own a vineyard there. New York? The Empire State building has this…"

I had to put a stop to his Bella-style rambling out of understanding and pity. This man was already making my dreams come true. Surely it was only a kindness for me to put him out of his misery.

"Edward. That all sounds lovely but entirely unnecessary. How about something a bit simpler. I'm not really…I mean, that sounds great. It truly does. But I'm not really into those sorts of things."

"Oh. That's...uh..that is entirely unexpected. I don't…," he looked to the two men accompanying him, who both seemed to shrug at some unasked question. "Dinner at my place? I can cook. I mean, I'm able to cook. For you? I am actually quite good. My mother insisted on it. She said it made me well-rounded. I just had you in mind the entire time I suffered through it, to be honest. I used to wonder what type of dishes were your favorites, what would make you happy. I started to enjoy the peace it brought when I could focus on it. It is important to unwind after a brutal work day," he smirked, like he had some inside joke that only he was a part of. "I had a huge kitchen built, actually. I thought you might like that. I wasn't sure you even had an interest in living in a penthouse, but we could build a house if you would prefer. I would be happy anywhere."

It was at that moment that the "so quiet you could hear a pin drop" description was most apropos. Alice looked at me quickly out of the corner of her eye and then nodded her head slightly towards the door way, shifting her weight in that direction. My awe and disbelief started to feel more like discomfort. Was this guy for real? I shivered, an eerie feeling enveloping me. Now that I really looked at him, I became frightened. He looked so beautiful, so intense, so serious, and so dangerous…and the combination was compelling. His eyes held excitement and frenzy, like I was something to eat. The men standing beside him, previously an after-thought, now looked menacing. I desperately wanted to escape now. I couldn't think around him. He was too close; this was too much.

"Edward, it was lovely running into you. Alice and I really must be on our way." I started to steer her towards the door, and for the first time ever she was silently complying. He reached out, taking a step towards me before I held my hand up in a motion to stop. "Since I'll be meeting with Esme, I'll ask her for your contact information. I'm sorry to be in such a rush. I'll contact you soon. Enjoy your afternoon." It felt like I was holding my breath when I pushed fully through the front door, walking quickly and wordlessly an entire block until we were forced to wait for a green light to change at a crosswalk and Alice yanked her arm from my grasp.

"Isabella Marie Swan! What on earth was that?! What was up with those men? Who the hell does Edward Cullen think he is?! Do you think he's really in the mob? He seriously looked like he'd be in the mob. That's badass. That was nuts! First I feel like I'm intruding on some intimate moment, and the next I'm getting totally creeped out. I swear Bella, he's hiding something. But I don't think it's bad. I don't know…maybe it is. Shit! I don't know. This is kind of fate, isn't it? I thought he was going to throw you down and have his way with you. It was actually kind of hot. Hmm…Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way…"

"Please, Alice. Something was…not fucking right. I don't mean with him. Well, maybe I do. Or maybe it's just me and my guilty fucking conscience. I don't know. He was like, this fantasy guy. This whole thing is fucking bizarre. But it wasn't just that he must be out of his mind to have these feelings for someone he doesn't even know, especially me. There was something that just seemed intense about him. And it was…it wasn't like I felt like he would hurt me. It was actually sexy, and dominant. I felt like I was his entire world. It was fucking freaky. It was overwhelming. 'Be careful what you wish for' and all of that shit. I don't think I want to see him again, Al. I'm not making any sense..."

Alice was just staring at me, looking like she was about to burst. "Alright, Alice. Let it out." The little brat let out an obnoxious laugh, right in my face, and continued on until bits of mascara began to smear on the tears running down her rosy cheeks.

"Oh Bella, you never saw yourself clearly. You're the one out of your mind! I think maybe your overactive imagination is running away from you and taking me with it. Oooh…this is going to be sooo good! I take back what I said. I'm definitely sticking with my first impression of him. Who'd have thought he'd be even hotter than he was back in college? He's going to be around, mark my words Bella. Loosen up! It's about time you had some excitement! This is like, your dream come true! It's fate, I'm telling you! This is going to be the best!"

I looked at her skeptically, and resolved to put the entire day behind me. A glass or three of the chilled moscato that I knew was waiting for me in my beverage cooler, a hot bath, my comfy bed, and I would wake up tomorrow like Edward Cullen never happened.