I'm still walking the tightrope without a net. My lovely beta has come down with a cold, so I did this all by myself. Any mistakes are totally mine.

oOo

I didn't mean to be late, but Rosalie insisted I show Edward everything he couldn't have. My dark blue wrap dress clung perfectly without giving anything away, and my borrowed heels were higher than anything I'd ever worn. She wanted him eating his heart out, for some reason, and nearly tied me down when I went after my favorite sweater and jeans. I felt sad for the poor guy as she yanked my hair into submission and sent me on my way ten minutes behind schedule.

When I reached the restaurant, I stumbled over the threshold, just as I'd known I would the moment I put on the ridiculous stilettos. Just before I hit the floor, strong arms caught and held me close, saving me from embarrassment.

A thrill of shot down my spine, and before I could stop myself, I snuggled into the embrace. Whoever held me smelled like soap and mint and just a hint of leather, and about ninety percent of me wanted to follow him wherever he was going and leave poor Edward to have awkward conversations with my empty chair.

Poor Edward.

"You okay?"

The voice in my ear was low, warm, intimate. Goosebumps trailed in the wake of his breath, down my neck to the clinging material of my dress, and I suppressed a shiver of delight.

Poor Edward, I reminded myself, turning slowly to thank the man who'd rescued me.

The glare of lights off thick, black-framed glasses greeted me. I stumbled again, trying to untangle myself, as I stuttered my apologies.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I'm… Oh, I'm such a klutz."

The moment I was standing upright and on my own power, I missed his arms, his warmth. Gah, his scent. He smelled so good that I just wanted to bury my nose in his… Oh. The Momma's Boy Sweater.

"That's okay. Are you ready?"

Glancing once more at the brightly woven pullover, I nodded and forced myself to meet his gaze, except I still couldn't see his eyes through the chandelier's reflection in the lenses.

Without another word, he led me to the back of the little café, where the only light was from a candle in the middle of the table. The intimate setting would have been perfect for the man I'd imagined Edward to be when he was holding me at the door, but it hardly seemed appropriate for the awkward man who held my chair for me.

He took the seat across from me and grinned shyly. "This is where they seated me when I got here. I hope it's not too dark."

I waited another beat for him to ask me why I was late, but he simply waited for my response. "It's fine. I'm sorry I was late. I hope you didn't think—"

"It's fine, Bella. I'm glad you came. You look beautiful, by the way."

Heat climbed my neck and settled in my cheeks for the second time since I'd walked through the door. I didn't know how to return the sentiment, so I just muttered a quiet thanks and focused on the flickering flame as our coffee was set in front of us.

"So, what have you been doing since you left Forks?"

It was a safe subject, and I lost myself in the sweeping descriptions of my time in college—how I'd met Rosalie and Alice and they'd pulled me from my shell, how I'd excelled in my writing courses and scored an internship at a small publisher directly after graduation, and how that internship had developed into a steady job as an editor.

"That sounds perfect. You were always writing something, even when you were supposed to be doing something else." His eyes shone with admiration. "I'm glad you've been able to turn what you love into a career."

I averted my eyes at the reminder that he'd watched me much more than politeness dictated in high school, but managed to force an answer. "Well, I don't really write much anymore. I've found that I'm a pretty good developmental editor. I work with authors to flesh out characters, fill plot holes, and focus on the necessary points in the book before another editor takes over. It's a lot of fun, and I think it's pretty rewarding."

Silence fell, and I twiddled my spoon through the coffee that had long since gone cold. There were just a few sips left, and I suffered through them to make the silence seem necessary. When the last of the bitter liquid was gone, I set the cup down and spun it on the delicate plate beneath.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before his shoulders dropped. A wry smile creased his face, slightly higher on the right, and it was so adorable I had a sudden urge to caress his cheek.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." My brain suddenly clicked, and I realized how selfish I'd been, talking only about myself. "What have you been doing? I mean, it sounds like you've been very successful, though I'm still not sure if you fix computers or design buildings."

He ducked his head and shrugged, letting out a small laugh. "You don't have to act interested. I'm just glad to get a chance to see you again."

My heart did a painful little twist at his words, especially since they were accompanied by the sweetest, saddest smile I'd ever seen. Hurting him was suddenly the biggest crime I'd ever committed, and I hated myself for it.

"I am interested, Edward. I really am. And curious, to be honest. I have no idea what a…what did you call it? I have no idea what you do."

"Systems architect." The right side of his lips quirked up again.

I really liked that little smirk. For a moment, with just a quick movement of his surprisingly full mouth, he was the captain of the basketball team, the prom king, and the rebel on a motorcycle, all wrapped up in one seriously ugly sweater. The rush of affection surprised me, making it easier to absorb the words he shared.

I didn't understand a word he said, but I could tell he was intelligent—more so than I had ever imagined. There was talk about networking, and servers, and end users, and lots of letters and numbers that didn't add up to real words. Even without comprehension, I was impressed by him. He seemed modest about his abilities, which I found refreshing. We sat through another cup of coffee and ordered cheesecake to share just to extend the evening. We didn't touch on high school, but instead shared our hopes and dreams for the coming years. Even with our apparent differences, we wanted the same things—security, happiness, companionship, and laughter.

"I guess I should get you home," he finally said, looking at his watch. "We've been here for almost three hours."

I was surprised to learn that. I'd expected awkward and painful, but everything had been effortless after the first few minutes passed. He was so much more than I'd hoped, and my pity had transformed into admiration at some point. New emotions swirled in my heart and stomach as he held my chair again and then the door. My fingers itched to hold his, but I knew it was too soon. He deserved someone who was sure of her feelings, and I was bound by confusion, indecision, and ghosts of the past.

As he held the door to my apartment building, my phone chirped with a text message. I stopped for a moment to check it and realized I'd been gone so long that Rosalie was worried about me.

You've been gone too long. Did shy geek turn psycho killer once he got you alone? Let me know where to send the ransom money.

"Sorry." I sent Edward a sheepish smile. "We talked so long my roommate got worried about me. I'll let her know I'm home."

He waited politely as I hid the screen with her rude words and typed out my answer.

On my way up. No worries.

With Rosalie comforted, I took the stairs slowly to the third floor, trying to think of ways to ask him to meet me again. I knew I'd almost blown my chances with my actions and reactions as the night began, but I hoped he still held enough affection for me to give us another shot.

As I rounded the corner to the last flight of stairs, I could see Rosalie's feet. She was waiting to accost me and pump for details. Sure enough, the moment she saw my head appear, she launched.

"That was some pity date, Bella! You didn't have to give him three hours of your time. A quick coffee probably would have sufficed."

Edward stumbled behind me, and I wanted to sink down into the wood of the stairs beneath me and hide forever. My cheeks burned, my heart ached, and my stomach completed an Olympic-worthy acrobatics routine, and all before I could find words to respond. Finally, I found my tongue, but what I said wasn't worth the effort.

"Shut up." It was a hiss, a furious whisper, directed toward Rosalie, but the words were covered by the sound of scrambling wingtips against hollow steps as Edward fled the scene.

Rosalie appeared at the stop of the stairs and watched his retreat. "Whoops. Well, I guess I just saved you some trouble."

I couldn't stop it. The tears sprang forth and started a trail down my face, heating quickly on the flame of my blush.

He was gone. I never got to ask him for another drink, another date, and he'd probably never look at me again. If he thought of me, it wouldn't be with the affection of a high schooler with a crush but with the pain of a man scorned.

He wasn't the pitiful one.

I was.

oOo

There will be an outtake of this offered in the Fandom4TwifanG compilation. You can visit fandom4twifang dot blogspot dot com to learn more.