Welcome back! Once again, I'm deeply indebted to my husband for all his great advice and help. At this point, he's qualified to be on the Sports Illustrated staff.

And I'm always grateful to my beta, writingbabe, and prereader, isabeausink. They consistently save me from my crazy analogies and weak sentence structure; and they made sure Copward got his kiss at the end of the night in this update. So really, we all owe them a lot of thanks.

To everyone who's reading this story: Thank You. I appreciate you more than I can say. I'm so happy you took a chance on me as a writer, and I hope this fic gives you something to smile about.

"How many Knicks shirts do you have, anyway?" Bella asked.

"Retired, or on active duty?"

"Total. Every one that's ever been in service."

"Hmmmm…" Edward was silent for a moment, swaying as the subway hurtled over the tracks. He looked deep in thought. "My mom would say hundreds, but she has a tendency to exaggerate. I'd say about 50."

Bella gave him the side-eye. "That's it?"

"Yes…no. It's probably more like 75. I've been collecting them since I was a kid. I saved the ones that don't fit any more. They're in my parents' basement."

"Don't they take up a lot of space?"

"That depends on who you ask. The shirts take up maybe a small corner. Along with a few other things," he amended. "Talking to my mom, you'd think I'm running a warehouse down there."

"One thing stands out in what you said," Bella noted. "What are the 'few other things'?"

"Nothing much. Some books. The less significant albums from my vinyl collection that I don't need with me in my apartment, but should never, ever be thrown out, no matter how many times Ma reminds me I can get them from iTunes and I have to tell her that's beside the point. You gotta keep vinyl."

"And?"

"That's pretty much it. Oh, and my VHS tapes. I'm gonna convert those; I have some great stuff on tape. Plus, my old electronic basketball game, which I'm absolutely moving to my apartment as soon as I get the chance."

"Huh."

" 'Huh' what?"

"Sounds like it's more than just a few tee shirts."

"Did my mom put you up to this?" They had exited the Eighth Avenue station and were heading over to the piers. The Meatpacking District was fairly quiet at the moment; rush hour traffic had calmed, and the nightlife had yet to kick into high gear.

"I don't even know your mother."

"Yeah, and we need to change of that." Edward tugged her hand to stop walking. "I've been meaning to ask you. My parents are having a party this weekend for the Fourth of July. My cousin Kate – she's my Aunt Maggie's kid – is also leaving to study in Ireland for a year. So it's kind of a holiday barbeque and farewell party." He drew in a breath. "Come with me. I'd love it if you were there."

"Really?" Bella looked so excited at the invitation that Edward felt his heart soar.

"Really. Not that my mom is bugging me about bringing you around or anything." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I want them to meet you." Then he hesitated and pursed his lips. "Not so sure you want to meet them, though."

Edward was picturing Bella in the middle of about fifty of his closest relatives, almost all of whom were off-the-charts extroverts. A lot of Irish blood on both sides made for wonderful hospitality, but also a uniform gregariousness that could be overwhelming to someone so shy. He'd have to make sure no one made her feel uncomfortable, which would mean keeping her close to him for almost the entire party. That wasn't exactly a burden.

"Of course I want to meet them!" Bella had grown very curious about his family. She'd been hoping he'd ask her soon, even though they'd only been dating a couple of weeks. It felt natural to take that next step now.

Right on the heels of her happiness was a familiar, nagging worry, the kind she used to have all the time.

"What is it?" Edward looked at her closely. He'd seen the sudden frown shadow her expression.

"Nothing."

"That's not 'nothing.' You look upset, or something."

She made a face, unwilling to admit what was on her mind. "I'm worried about whether they'll like me."

"Of course you are."

I was hoping for a different response there. "Not helping, Edward."

"Isabella." He dropped the basketball between his feet and grasped her shoulders. "I didn't mean it like that. I figured you'd be really self-conscious. So first, don't worry, because my parents are gonna love you.

"And second, you have the wrong idea about yourself. That voice that's telling you this shit is giving you bad information. No, worse – it's lying to you. And you keep listening. You've gotta stop."

He tilted his head and looked at her carefully, as if he was trying to convey something when words were not enough. "It's impossible for anyone not to like you. I knew that about you before we even met – I heard it from our friends. And then I saw it for myself. You care about people. You're smart, but not the annoying kind of smart where you're holding it over everyone else all the time." He lowered his voice to a forceful whisper. "You're good. It's about time you believed that about yourself."

Bella felt the anxiety in her middle unravel and smooth out. "Well, I could use someone to remind me. You want the job?" she asked, smiling a little.

He kissed her forehead. "I thought you'd never ask." Then, more seriously, "Baby, why do you believe you're 'less than'? Because, honestly, I can think of a lot of people who have a very high opinion of themselves, who really shouldn't. I can't think of anyone who deserves to be queen of the prom more than you, but you're sure no one will even ask you to go."

They were walking up West 14th Street, working their way toward the Hudson River. Two young women in short skirts and animal prints crowded past them on the sidewalk, crushing closer to Edward than was necessary. He politely turned to the side and ignored their suggestive stares.

"I've always felt like the kind of girl who never makes an impression on anyone," Bella confessed.

Edward stopped her again. "Hey. You made an impression on me," he said firmly. "And much as I'd like to tell you that's enough and no one else matters now, because who could be more important thanme…." He splayed his hand across his chest in a dramatic gesture, and Bella chuckled. Whenever he was joking, his New York accent became very loose. "We both know that's not true."

His tone softened again. "You have a lot to offer. If nobody else sees that, it's their problem." He brushed a thick section of her hair behind her shoulder. "I know believing that is easier said than done."

His green eyes were bright, intense. Bella sensed he knew how she felt; it was like he had direct insight into her mix of insecurity and independence, and it was why she was growing more comfortable with him each time they were together. Being an open book with him didn't make her feel threatened. She felt safe - protected, even.

Of course, she was still worried about the impression she'd make on his family. Edward would probably never have any such issues if - when - his time came to meet the Swans. Bella knew that if she unexpectedly walked through the front door of her home in Forks tomorrow with Edward at her side, he'd charm Charlie and Renee to the moon and back. They'd adore him.

Bella thought Edward's friendliness just came very naturally to him. She loved that he was so at ease with everyone. He'd finally met Angela tonight when he came to pick Bella up at the apartment. Edward arrived looking sweetly shy, but once he found out Angela's boyfriend lived across the Hudson in Hoboken, he launched into a story about spending a very long St. Patrick's Day bar-hopping along Washington Street with friends. Angela knew almost every place he mentioned, and she and Edward laughed at how Hoboken drew the least experienced drinkers on one of the biggest binge nights of the year.

As she and Edward were leaving, Angela gave Bella a huge smile and an enthusiastic thumb's-up behind his back. Leave it to him to immediately win over Angela and get her talking as if they'd known each other for years.

Bella figured she must have been absent the day the gift of small talk was handed out. She preferred conversation with more depth, though in order to get there, you had to start with casual chatting. Bella could do casual when it came to clothes or food, but not interaction. She gravitated to people who understood that about her.

She smiled to herself as Edward held open the front door to the sports center. It would be fun to talk to Angela about Edward from now on. Angela's boyfriend Ben spent a lot of time at their apartment, and when he wasn't there, Angela often talked about him. Bella felt like rejoicing now that she finally had something – someone - of her own to contribute to the conversation. But more than that, Angela's approval of Edward meant a lot to her.

They were a little late by the time they arrived, and Emmett and Jasper were warming up with three other men from their law firm. Jasper dribbled the ball lazily and made a show of bowing to Edward as if he were court royalty.

"Get an alarm clock, asshole!" Emmett called out.

"Yeah, yeah," Edward replied, laughing. He pulled Bella close for a kiss, and a chorus of catcalls whistled throughout the floor. He grabbed the ball he'd brought and shot a chest pass to Emmett. "We're using this one," he said in a tone that invited no argument.

"Good luck," Bella called out with a smile, and then watched the view as he walked away.

Alice and Rose were already in the bleacher seats. "Well, hello there, Miss Bella," Rose said knowingly. "Enjoying your evening?"

"I think it's about to get even better," Bella replied with a smirk. Edward was down to wearing a tank top and shorts.

"Niiice," Alice murmured in approval.

Bella felt a real difference in the tone of tonight's game compared to the first time she'd come here. There was a lot of friendly banter back and forth between the Three Amigos and the opponents, and the mood was very relaxed.

Edward's competitive nature still came out to play. He wasn't aggressive, but he also didn't let anything get past him. Bella knew he'd never cede any ground when it came to basketball. She loved watching him like this, so quick and graceful and physical.

He caught a pass from Emmett and pivoted to face the basket on the left side. Staring down his defender, Edward thrust his left foot forward in a jabbing motion, faking a drive to the basket. His opponent leaned back on his heels, and that was all the opening Edward needed. He rose in the air to shoot, the muscles in his arm prominent as the ball arced toward the basket with textbook backspin. Swish. Bella could see his broad grin from her seat in the bleachers. He rolled his head from side to side, stretching his neck, while the defense regrouped.

"So you're going to his parents' party this Saturday, right?" Rose asked.

Bella turned to her quickly in surprise. "Yeah. He just asked me about it. Are you going? "

"We went last year," Alice chimed in. "He invited the four of us again. It's an annual event," she added, emphasizing the last word.

"What do you mean?" Bella asked.

"Oh my God, it's a huge party. It's like the biggest thing in Brooklyn Heights all summer," Alice said, leaning toward Bella, her eyes sparkling. "Everyone from the neighborhood is there."

An image flashed through Bella's mind, quick and fearful, of showing up at the Cullen's' door in jeans and a tee shirt while everyone else was dressed in East Side chic. Am I going to need a stylist for this? She was starting to panic.

"It's mostly Edward's family," Rosalie replied, shooting Alice a warning glare. "And they're all great, just as you'd expect." She nudged Bella, who was sitting between her and Alice. "They're going to love you."

"That's what Edward said," Bella replied thoughtfully. She was already nervous about it, and now she had a whole extra layer of anxiety.

"Stop worrying. You'll be fine," Rose said, scowling in mock annoyance. "Let's watch the game."

Edward's opponent streaked down the court. The opponent's teammate threw a long one-handed baseball pass, trying for an easy layup; and Emmett reverted to his secondary love of football and intercepted the pass like a pro. When Edward raced back to the hoop, Emmett met him with a bounce pass, his powerful arms tensing with the effort.

Edward approached the basket from the left side, his long legs working at a graceful trot as he blew past Emmett's glacially slow opponent. He expertly tossed the ball up on the right side of the backboard, his long fingers deftly teasing its release with a spin. Bella watched as the ball obediently caromed off the backboard and into the hoop. Edward turned and pointed at Emmett with a smug look of victory.

"You're welcome, Ricky Rubio," Emmett grinned. "Just remember passing's part of the game, too."

Edward chuckled and said, "You just be ready for the ball."

The air conditioning in the huge gym was no match for the sweltering summer night, and before long, every player sported a thin sheen of sweat. Edward frequently pulled up his shirt to wipe his face, exposing his stomach: flat, hard, and inviting, with a fine patch of hair above his waistband.

These glimpses were way too brief. Bella felt her own sweat gather all over her body. What sweet torture…

After an hour, the guys took a short break, and Edward grabbed his water bottle out of his bag, then put it back after a few sips.

"You're not drinking enough," Bella said, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

A slow grin crept across his features. "You worried about me now?

She arched her eyebrow. "What's it to ya?"

He laughed at her poor imitation of his Brooklyn accent, and then leaned over for a kiss. "You've got a long ways to go before you sound like me."

"Yo! We playing ball or getting a room? Come on, Handsome." Emmett palmed the ball impatiently.

Edward trotted back to the court where everyone else had fallen back to position. Jasper took a few steps backward, and then darted forward, dribbling the ball. He stopped, pivoted on his leg and looked for Edward, who closed the gap before his defender even knew he was gone. Emmett held off his own opponent while Edward caught Jasper's pass with his left hand, then shifted the ball to his right for another layup. It sank through the hoop like a knife through butter.

Emmett did a slow clap while Edward strolled back to him with his hands out. "Merry Christmas." They slapped palms.

One of the men from the opposing team was bent over, hands on his knees, laughing. "I've had enough," he finally said. "You guys are killing me."

"You calling it a night?" Jasper said.

"I think so."

"You played a good game. Shame your youthful inexperience worked against you," Edward said, bumping his fist.

"So someday I'll be old like you, but there's a chance I'll play better. Good tradeoff," the guy replied, chuckling.

"Old age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill." Edward went to get the basketball from where it had rolled along the floor, casually pulling off his shirt as he walked.

Bella's eyes widened involuntarily. Edward's upper body, broad and lean, still glistened with sweat under the bright lights. His chest was powerful but not overly defined, balancing out his height. On his left pec was a small tattoo of a green shamrock.

When Edward turned to grab the ball, she saw another tattoo on his left shoulder blade that looked like miniature angel's wings. His back and arms flexed as he bent over, tautly emphasizing each muscle. Bella wondered if she could get away with insisting that he never wear a shirt again. The only thing better than Edward in uniform was Edward out of it, and a certain hunger flared inside her, sudden and demanding.

He dropped the ball on the floor by the bleachers and grabbed his gym bag. "Be right back," he said, jerking his thumb toward the locker rooms. He noticed Bella's silent stare. "What?"

"You're…You look great," she blurted out.

Edward's eyes twinkled like impish holiday lights as his grin widened. "Glad you think so." He winked at her, then took off for the showers.

Rose snorted. "You two have a cute shorthand."

Alice laughed. "Leave her alone, Rose. The girl's having a normal reaction, and it's a long time coming." She glanced at Bella. "For both of them."

It was after 8 p.m. when they finally left the piers to head over to the bar. Bella couldn't see the horizon from their spot on the Manhattan streets, but she knew the sun was setting as it left its mark on Midtown, blocks away. Metallic office towers blazed orange and yellow, reflecting the last rays of the day in a blinding swansong. She tilted her head back to gaze at the tops of the skyscrapers, and Edward's arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side.

In minutes, the six of them arrived at the bar and claimed the same large table as before. Edward slid next to her in the booth. He still smelled so clean from his shower, like a comfortable set of sheets she'd want to crawl between for many long nights.

"Brooklyn Blast IPA, cheeseburger, medium, no onions?" he asked.

Bella grinned. "You remembered."

Edward stopped digging through his gym bag and looked over at her, his gaze momentarily serious. "I'll never forget it. That was a good night." He leaned back and motioned for the waiter.

Emmett and Jasper were talking about problems with their firm's software, while Rose and Alice discussed Alice's upcoming visit with her family. Bella took advantage of their distraction to talk privately with Edward.

"You have tattoos," she said quietly.

Edward smiled. "Yeah, I do." He took a quick sip of beer. "That bother you?"

"No, not at all. I'm curious about what they mean."

"This one," and he pointed to his chest where the shamrock was located, "means you should quit while you're ahead on St. Patty's Day, before your so-called friends start throwing out asshole dares." He quickly pulled up his shirt in the front, and Bella got another look at the bright green shamrock that danced a little each time he flexed.

"Where did you get it?"

"A few years ago. We were drinking in Brooklyn." He shrugged. "I guess it could have been worse. I've sure seen people do crazier things on St. Patrick's Day."

"I like it."

Edward gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Good. Maybe I'll get a few more."

"What's the other one?"

"Angel's wings," he said. Serious now, he reached his right hand over his left shoulder and pulled up the bottom of his shirt so his upper back was exposed. The wings spanned about six inches over the broadest part of Edward's shoulder blade. Ivory white feathers blended into light blue shading at the bottom of each feather; the wings were outlined and detailed in fine black ink. Bella couldn't have seen this from where she sat in the bleachers, but at the bottom, written in calligraphy, was the name Garrett.

She touched her hand to the warm skin on his back, then traced the shape of the tattoo, running over the feathers in gentle circles. Beneath the pads of her fingers, she felt Edward sigh, then relax.

"It's beautiful, Edward." Bella felt her heart break a little. She knew what this one meant.

"It's another way to keep him with me. I wanted something on me – something like this – but I wasn't sure I could look at it all the time, you know?" He frowned a little.

"I think I do. You still know he's always there. And he's got your back."

Edward smiled appreciatively and cupped his hand to her face. "Exactly." He leaned in and kissed her.

"Guys, guys. We're eating here, huh?" Emmett held his hands out on either side of him like a question.

Edward wadded up a napkin and threw it at him, coming short by about a foot.

Emmett snorted. "Glad you waited 'til now to lay some bricks."

After they'd finished their burgers, Edward noticed Bella check her watch several times. He raised his eyes questioningly, knowing something must be distracting her. She shrugged apologetically. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was eager to leave soon, even though she had to.

"It's okay. It's a school night, right?" He swirled a French fry in ketchup, then offered it to her.

"I have a big meeting with my supervisor tomorrow about that health care initiative I've been working on. I can't be falling asleep right in the middle of it," she said, feeling gloomy over cutting short the night and knowing what awaited her in the morning.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah, a little."

He tugged on her pinky, then lifted her hand and kissed it. "You'll be fine. You're like the point guard for the whole project, right?"

"Pretty much."

"Then no one knows more about it than you. You'll tell your boss everything she needs to know, and she'll see what a great job you're doing."

"I hope so."

"I know so," he said, like that sealed the deal.

Bella hoped it would be that easy.

She wished they had more time tonight, but Edward made light of it. He could see her tension escalating; she was stressed about work the next day. At this point, he didn't always know the right things that could ease her nerves in a situation like this, though he knew humor usually helped. Maybe the best thing to do was just keep quiet – not always his strong point, but for Bella, he'd try.

Nervous and wanting to kiss Edward but unsure if she should reach for him first, Bella fussed over getting her keys from her purse before turning to him. He smiled at her affectionately, then became serious.

There wasn't much space between them, and Edward closed even that distance by curling his index fingers through the belt loops of her jean shorts and tugging her to him. His hands were right there, so close to where she'd like to have them for a lot longer than this brief time of saying goodnight. He unhooked his fingers and smoothed his palms over her waist, watching his own hands as they stroked the material of her shirt.

"You feel so nice right here," he murmured. "So sweet." He looked up into her eyes, his gaze heated and emotional. "I like it."

"I like you."

"That's good. Let's go for more than that." He kissed her cheek, her jaw; then moved her hair away from her neck, kissing her under her ear.

" A three-pointer," she whispered, and he laughed softly, his breath warming her skin.

She pulled impatiently on the front of his shirt, and he moved his mouth to hers, his lips soft at first, then firm as he held her flush against his chest. Boldness and lust washed over her in equal measure. She licked across his lips, smirking a little at his moan. His mouth pressed hers harder, and the kiss was soft, sweet, deep, wet...so she sank even further into him, loving the taste and feel of his mouth. His kisses satisfied her even as they left her wanting more.

Reluctantly, Bella drew back, and Edward placed three lighter kisses on her lips. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath as he softly sighed, "Beautiful."

She hugged him tightly as she murmured into his chest, "I hate to go."

"Me, too. We'll be together again soon," he promised. Edward stepped away backwards, putting his index and middle fingers up against his lips and holding them out to her in the night's final kiss.

Early the next morning, Bella waited in a conference room with several folders on the table in front of her and a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. Her nervousness ramped up with every minute that Victoria was late. There was nothing she could do about the delay since Victoria was the boss, but she was annoyed that her own time seemed less valuable. The room had no windows, which made her feel even more closed in, almost trapped.

Victoria liked quick updates, so they spoke frequently about the Dakota project on an informal basis. But she also required full-blown briefings to get longer status reports, so Bella found herself in a meeting that had been scheduled a week ago, fighting nerves and fatigue after a night out.

The door swung open and Victoria walked in, tall and stunning in a white suit that set off her flame-red hair. She gave Bella a warm smile and a handshake.

"Good morning, Isabella. I'm sorry I'm late. I've been looking forward to talking with you more about this project."

This is a good start. "Thank you. I know this is an important initiative for Valetudo, but it really means a lot to me personally, too. I believe very strongly in what we're doing here."

Victorian nodded her head approvingly. "Good. That certainly helps." She opened her folder and quickly flipped through the papers inside. "It looks like your stakeholders have come through on their own responsibilities very well. The report that assesses the needs of the community matches the proposed scope of the project. Let's talk more about what to do next."

For the next hour, Bella outlined her progress with helping the Dakota nonprofit work up a strategic plan for using Valetudo's grant as leverage to attract more funding. She relayed the results of numerous teleconferences to discuss public awareness that would bring patients to the clinic.

Victoria was very interested in the foundation's relationship with the federal Public Health Service Division of Indian Health, which was in charge of medical programs on Dakota reservations. This was a part of the project that concerned her the most. The Health Service sought partnerships to shore up the gaps in its own programs, but was often reluctant to relinquish much control. Bella explained how she'd developed connections with the Division staff and made sure the staff there was kept informed.

"How often do you talk to them?" Victoria asked.

"At least once a week, but more if necessary. I've made one contact there who's been great to work with. He understands our goals, and he's been very good about getting answers for me when I need them."

Victoria nodded her approval. "Fantastic. That's exactly what you need to do."

Bella watched as Victoria's blood-red fingernails quickly traced over the figures on a spreadsheet. She nodded again and handed the papers back to Bella.

"You're doing outstanding work here. I think you've earned a higher title. I'm going to recommend we make you a senior project manager." Victoria smiled again. "You'll finally have the title to go with the responsibility. And this will put you in a higher salary range, so there's a raise that goes with it."

Bella was momentarily stunned as Victoria's words echoed through the room. A succession of emotions flipped through her like flashcards: pride, satisfaction, then fear and worry. I can do this...no, what if I can't? It's a huge project. But I've already seen it through from the start... Then she heard Edward telling her last night: That voice that's telling you this shit is giving you bad information. No, worse – it's lying to you.

Maybe she should have believed it for herself a long time ago. She could change that now. Bella had a quick vision of fear as a pile of black dust which she could make disappear with the breath of a few words.

"Thank you, Victoria. I really appreciate the recognition. I've worked hard on this, and I want very much to see it through."

"Trust me; I wouldn't move you up if you didn't deserve it." Victoria stood to leave. "I'm very pleased with your commitment, but what's also important is that you really have very good judgment. I like knowing I don't have to worry about anything. Keep up the good work. We'll talk again soon."

Bella walked slowly back to her office, her excitement building. The meeting went better than she'd ever expected. She was even getting a promotion.

Holy crap, a promotion!

There was one person she desperately wanted to tell more than anyone else, but she had no idea where to find him if she ran outside – as she was very tempted to do – and she didn't know whether he had his cell phone with him. Could cops take personal calls while they were on duty? What if she called and he was in the middle of an arrest and the criminal got away?

Is there anyone as dorky as me who worries about stuff like this?

She dropped the folders on her desk and ran to Human Resources to find the best alternative to Edward, at the moment.

Rose looked up from a pile of papers on her desk, arching an eyebrow. "Unless you've got coffee, I don't want to know you."

Bella ignored her friend's grumpy warning and grabbed Rose's hands, pulling her out of her chair.

"I'm getting a promotion!" she scream-whispered. "Victoria just told me!"

"Aw, sweetie, congratulations!" Rose enveloped her in a big hug. "You deserve it! You've put in so many hours, they should name a wing of their hospital after you." She pulled back and asked, "Did you tell Edward yet?"

"No. I really want to call him, but I'm not sure it's okay for him to get calls while he's on duty?" Bella looked questioningly at Rose.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Do it. He'll want to know." Rose looked at Bella rather severely. "Don't you know by now he'd be happy to hear from you any time?"

Bella shrugged. "I don't want to bother him."

"You won't. If he can't talk, he'll tell you. And if he does tell you that, it's not you, it's his job. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom." Bella gave Rose another hug. "You and Emmett are going Saturday, right?"

"Oh, hell yeah. Wouldn't miss it. Wait until you see the food. And the booze. It's really a great party." She gave Bella a parting smirk. "I knew he'd ask you to come. He really wants you to meet his parents, but he's nervous about it. The party's a great excuse."

"Edward? Nervous? Are you kidding?" Bella was shocked.

"Of course he is. His parents are great people, no question. But you mean a lot to him," Rose added. "He's not used to doing this. It's been awhile. This is a big deal for him."

With that, Bella's good mood over her promotion slipped down a few notches. "How big a deal….for him? And…how long? Who was the last one?"

Rose, who prided herself on saying the right thing under the tightest circumstances, knew she'd revealed too much. She realized now that Edward and Bella hadn't talked much about Edward's history with women. And now it seemed she'd tipped Bella off about the ex's existence.

"That's something you should talk to him about," Rose said, a bit sheepishly. "But not now, if you call him." She saw confusion, then worry, flit rapidly across Bella's face and improbably hoped that she hadn't just ruined her friend's day. "I mean, he'll tell you. I know he will. But who wants to talk about an ex on the phone?" She shrugged her shoulders as casually as she could.

Bella had a sudden, terrible thought. "Wait a minute. There aren't going to be any ex-girlfriends at this party, are there?"

Rose rubbed her shoulders. "No, honey, there won't. Ask Edward about this. I know he'll tell you. He'll have some questions for you, too." She frowned at Bella. "I can't believe you two haven't had The Talk already."

Bella raised her eyebrows. "I guess we just haven't gotten around to it." Her thoughts flew to the round, wooden piece in her office that Edward had given her more than a week ago. She figured she'd be using it again.

She decided to aside this new worry for a time when she and Edward were alone together. By For now, there was the party to deal with.

"What should I wear?" she asked Edward on the phone Friday night.

"I don't know. Clothes?"

"Big help," she snorted. "Can you be a little more specific?"

"I'm a guy," he said, as if she needed to be reminded. "And I wear a uniform all day, so I don't really dwell on the question of what to wear." He was quiet for a moment. "I think you always look nice. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Just tell me this: would jeans work?"

"Yeah, jeans are fine. It's pretty much a barbeque."

Bella left her apartment late the next afternoon, hoping that Edward hadn't misspoken and given her the wrong intelligence. She'd settled on a pair of jeans, a floral top that was understated and not too revealing, and a pair of heels that were pretty but not dangerous.

Edward suggested that she meet him at his apartment and he'd drive them over to his parents' home. She had a Google printout so she could find the location on Franklin Street without a problem. Bella walked away from Greenpoint Avenue, where the business district was located, toward the red Victorian-era brick houses that lined the street. Somewhere in here was Edward's apartment.

She craned her neck to look down the block. The facades of the row homes were almost all the same, and not all the buildings had numbers on them. If worse came to worse, she could just call him and throw herself at his mercy. With a smile, she realized she'd never hear the end of it if she did.

Some of the buildings had small front porches enclosed by brick arches. It made it even more difficult to figure out which was Edward's. She'd have to walk up every set of steps to try to find an address, and that would take a long time. Resigned, she was just about to pull her phone out of her purse when she heard her name called.

Across the street, Edward was standing on a porch in the middle of the block. He raised his hand in greeting, and even from this distance, Bella could see the eager grin on his face. She broke out in a smile and waved enthusiastically before dashing across the street.

Edward set his beer down on the stoop and jumped off the steps to meet her. He laughed in surprise when she leaped into his arms.

"Hey!" he said as he grabbed her around waist. He lifted her higher off the ground, turning to rest his head against her neck.

"It's great to see you," Bella mumbled against his shoulder. You'd think it was years since I saw you last. "I missed you."

"Yeah, I missed you too." He hugged her even tighter. "Too bad I have to arrest you."

Bella pushed away from him. "What?"

"You jaywalked, girl. That's against the law." He motioned to the street. "And I might add, you barely looked both ways."

Bella pointed at the bottle on the top step. "That's an open bottle of beer, right? Isn't that against the law, too?"

"Not really. I wasn't walking the streets with it, so I wouldn't arrest me if I was the cop on this beat."

She sighed in defeat. Holding her arms out, hands together, she said, "Bring me in, Officer."

"You want the handcuffs too, huh?" Edward chuckled at the blush that crept up along her cheeks. Sometimes, she was too easy to tease.

He slid his arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let me show you my apartment before we leave."

For anyone who isn't familiar with basketball lingo: "laying bricks" means your shooting stinks, and you can't make a basket to save your life.

Ricky Rubio is a guard with the Minnesota Timberwolves, and has been compared to the legendary Pistol Pete Maravich.

Thanks again for reading! Reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated. I love hearing from you!