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Many thanks to my wonderfully talented beta, xrxdanixrx.

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EPOV

Fuck I hate traffic.

I've been sitting in the same fucking spot for twenty minutes. I haven't moved even a centimeter.

I'm supposed to be meeting Emmett and the now infamous Bella he hasn't stopped talking about since I broke up with Angela.

There's a fun memory I wish I could erase. Imagine coming home and finding what you hoped was going to be your fiancé, fucking one of her grad students…in your bed.

I got rid of the bed the day after and proceeded to fuck everything that passed by my studio for the next two months until it became impossible to tell them apart anymore.

It was fun for a while. I purposefully chose completely different women every night. The anticipation of the hunt fuelling my desire. Would she have blonde hair or red? Blue eyes or brown? Waxed or not?

It became a game for me. Unfortunately, a game that proved to be less than satisfying at the end of the night. All it turned into was one good fuck after another. Well, not even a good one most of the time.

I stopped when I woke up one morning and had absolutely no idea the name of the blonde lying next to me. Not even a first initial. I had become everything my father had been and I threw up beside her.

I haven't been set up like this in years. Recently, I've just shown up at the latest party or bar and picked up the first random girl I could find who showed even the slightest bit of interest.

So, I'm actually looking forward to this. To try to get back to some form of normal dating behaviour that doesn't end with me not calling the next day.

Despite everything that happened with Angela, I miss not being in a relationship. I hate being alone. I don't do it well. I crave intimacy and sharing coffee in the morning. I want to sit and talk about everything and nothing with someone.

Mostly, I want to feel a connection again.

My work has taken a blow as well. I'm finding it hard to find inspiration, no matter how many women I fuck. Everything is coming out plain, boring and uninspired.

I've stared at blank canvasses a thousand times over and nothing comes out. It's a good thing I completed and sold so much work early on in my career or I'd be on the street at this point.

I've taken, recently, to doing some graphic design work for various advertising agencies. I certainly don't need the money, but it's mindless and easy and, at least, I feel like I'm doing something.

Finally, the traffic is moving again and I wind my way through the streets of downtown Vancouver and park close to the bar.

I wander into the bar and am hit by some sort of dreaded techno mix that makes me cringe. I prefer classical music truthfully. It soothes me and recently, women find it charming or something. At least I got to listen to Puccini while I fucked my latest random conquest.

I scan, looking for Emmett and see him standing up motioning for me to join him.

Rose is with him. It will take a lot to get back into her good books. I went out with one of her friends…well, we never actually left her apartment, but I never called her again. I think her name was Jessica or maybe it was Stacy. I can't really be sure.

I make my way through the pulsing bodies on the dance floor and reach the table.

"Edward, man! I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show," Emmett says, smiling at me.

"Sorry, the traffic is brutal," I explain.

"Edward, you know Rose already. This is Bella." Rose narrows her eyes at me in a silent warning and Bella looks up at me.

She's running her fingers through her thick brunette hair and she raises her face to me. She's got the most expressive and dark eyes I've ever seen. It looks as though she wants to cry right now. She licks her bottom lip before biting down on it and offers me a weak smile before turning back to her drink.

I flash her the panty dropping smile I've come to rely on.

"Nice to meet you, Bella, finally." I raise my eyebrows to her.

"You too," she mutters, looking less than impressed.

To say I'm intrigued is an understatement. She's clearly got a story and I want to know what it is.

Emmett whisks Rose to the dance floor and I sit down across from her. I wish I could see the rest of her body. I'm a bit of an ass and leg man, and it's almost killing me not to know what she's got hiding under the table.

Her brusque voice brings me out of my daydream. "Let's just get this over with, ok? You pretend to ask me questions, I'll look like I'm vaguely interested, I'll give Em the signal, and then we can both just go."

Did she really just say that? She's blowing me off?

"Is that what you really want to do?" I ask her, hoping desperately she says no.

"It'll make this go a fuck of a lot faster." Oh, I get it; Emmett does this all the time to her. And then I wonder why someone who is this beautiful isn't with someone already. The possibilities are endless. I settle on the fact that she must be some sort of ice queen.

"So, he does this a lot then?"

"More than you can imagine." I sense that Emmett is going to hear a lot more about this tomorrow and not in a good way.

"And these meetings, they always end the same way?" I ask, intrigued as to why this beautiful woman needs Emmett to help her get a date.

"Always," she says bluntly.

"What if this time, it's different?"

"It won't be." She sounds so damn sure of herself.

"How can you be so sure?" I challenge.

"Experience."

"You've never experienced me before." I raise an eyebrow and stare back at her, hoping she'll grant me a bit more time. "Tell me something about yourself. Something nobody else knows." I ask this question a lot to women. It makes me appear interested and usually gets them revealing some sort of secret that I can use later when I want to get them into bed.

"I cry myself to sleep every single night." Oh, this isn't what I expected her to say and I feel horrible for asking her. Why is she crying herself to sleep every night?

I'm unaware that I've actually asked her why until she answers. We banter back and forth and I'm only vaguely aware of what I'm even saying. She is completely captivating. So intense and raw and, suddenly, she's shifting to the side of the booth. Oh no! She's leaving. No! She can't leave, not just yet.

"This conversation is over," she says bitterly.

Oh, shit. What did I just say? I need to make this right, so I shoot my hand across the table and cover hers. "Don't leave, please?"

"There's really no point in me staying." She's adamant and so I pull out my ace card.

"Dance with me." I know my way around a dance floor, and doesn't every woman love a man who can dance?

"I don't dance," she says definitively, and I realize that maybe the ice queen thought that crossed my mind isn't so far off. Who doesn't dance for fuck's sake?

"What do you mean you don't dance? Everyone dances." I smile at her.

She glares across the table at me. "Not everyone."

"What, have you got a broken leg or something?" I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Her face immediately falls. "Or something."

She stares back at me, waging some sort of internal war, it seems, and then lifts herself from the booth and reaches around to the back of it.

And then my heart stops beating as I see her steady herself on a cane before taking a few shaky steps away from the table and turning her petite body back to me.

"Edward, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure you're a nice guy. Emmett knows a lot of people. I'm sure he can hook you up with someone much more suitable for you than me."

Fuck me and my big mouth. I've just offended this beautiful creature without even knowing it. "Have you got a broken leg or something?" Why am I so stupid?

I rake my fingers through my hair. I don't want her to go, but it seems inevitable. The least I can do is allow her to make a graceful exit.

Emmett and Rose appear at her side as I continue to stare at her. They engage in some sort of conversation, though, what they're saying, I have no idea because right now I can't even think straight.

Bella disappears into the crowded dance floor without another word to me.

"Dude? What the fuck did you say to her?" Emmett asks, glaring at me.

"I didn't say anything."

Rose looks pissed. "You must have said something. I've never seen her bolt that fast before."

"I think I offended her," I say quietly.

"What? How?" Emmett looks as though he may explode.

"I asked her to dance."

"Bella doesn't dance. Not anymore," Rose hisses at me as if I'm supposed to know this.

"You might have shared that little tidbit of information with me before." I stare back at Emmett and his expression softens.

"I'm sorry, man. I probably should have told you, but she hates when I do this and I thought you guys would hit it off."

"What happened to her? Her leg, I mean. Is it broken or something?"

Emmett sits down beside me and Rose stays standing with her arms crossed glaring at me.

"No man, it's not broken. She lost it from the knee down in a skiing accident," Emmett says quietly, looking down at the table.

"What?" My mind is reeling with this admission.

Rose shakes her head, lets out a huff, and follows Bella out the door while I try to digest what he's telling me.

"She wears a prosthetic." His voice is quiet as he watches me closely.

"How? How did this happen?" The blood is coursing through my veins as I imagine the torment this poor beautiful woman has gone through.

"I don't think that's my story to tell, man," he says hesitantly.

"Emmett! For fuck's sake man! If you had told me this, I would have..."

"You would have what? Huh? Would you have even agreed to meet her?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"I'm not sure."

He shakes his head in disapproval and I feel like crawling under the rock I've slithered out from.

"I kind of expected more from you, Edward. I mean, Bella's a beautiful woman inside and out. I would have thought you, of all people, would be able to see that." He gets up without another word and starts for the door leaving me at the table.

The incessant beat blares on in the background and suddenly, I'm launching myself out of the seat and going after him. "Emmett! Wait!"

He's out the door and I grab his arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Hold up. Give me her number." I'm begging him. Actually begging for a woman's phone number for the first time since I can remember.

"I don't think so, Edward," he says firmly.

"Why not? I need to talk to her. Apologize at least."

He shakes his head. "No way man. I'm in enough shit as it is."

"Emmett, please. Give me something. I feel horrible."

He hesitates for a minute and then says, "She works with Rose at the foundation. That's all you're getting."

I breathe a sigh of relief and pat him on the back. "Thank you."

"If you screw this up, I will personally hunt you down and make you pay." It's the most serious thing Emmett has ever said to me and I simply nod my head.

I hear Rose calling him from down the street and his expression changes instantly, "Gotta go, man. Rosie's pissed and I need to do some serious damage control."

He takes off in a run towards her, picking her up and twirling her around before setting her down and opening the car door for her.

I can't get back to my loft fast enough. I bolt through the door and take the stairs two at a time up to my studio. I feverishly grab my brushes and squeeze massive amounts of chocolate brown, crimson red, and onyx black paint out from the crisp tubes onto my worn palette.

With my heart pounding hard in my chest, I stand in front of the nineteen blank canvases and, for the first time in months, there is no hesitation.

Inspiration has hit. Fast and furious and unrelenting.

I coat my brush with red and start to paint.


Chapter End Notes

Oh dear…they're not off to a good start.

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