DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer. I only own the plot, and a Middlesex Membership.

So, I have a blog. It is www (dot) thirtyninereasonscricket (dot) wordpress (dot) com Visit. I am also on twitter - (at)freetwofall

HEY! HEY! I was sooo overwhelmed by the epic amount of reviews (okay, like seven), but even so, we've hit double figures! Please! Please continue, I love to know your thoughts!

(And! Feel free to tweet me, send me questions for my Edward Interview on the blog ;P)

Definitions, then Innuendo, then on with the show? OKAY! LET'S GO!

Define me:

Slogging it: Hitting out at the ball with general abandon. Usually a surefire way to get out.

Walking Wicket: A Player who is essentially a poor batsman, almost guaranteed to be out very quickly, within one or two balls

PLEASE EXCUSE MY POOR USE OF AUSTRALIAN SLANG. I AM EXTREMELY UP FOR LESSONS... (Specially if you're a hot Australian surfer? ;P)

39) We can be on top all day and still come second

# Bella Swan #

Wincing, I stumbled into someone as I attempted to balance in my heels, and make it upstairs as I carried my books and a few sheets of paper that I could make notes on. I made it halfway to the roof garden when I heard the words that would pretty much mark out the path of my day.

"Hey, Masen?" It was Jasper Whitlock's voice, coming from the landing above me. Then all I saw was a flash of ginger and white and there was a searing pain in my ankle. I groaned under the weight of none other than Edward Masen, again, and tried to roll out from under him.

It wasn't happening.

"AAh! Shit, miss, are you okay?" Err, no? I rolled onto my side and held my bag to my chest, hoping the pain in my ankle would subside, and quickly. "Ma'am? Are you okay?" Jasper touched my shoulder and I jolted, not expecting it as he held out his hand for me to take.

"Is he?" I spoke without looking up, attempting to stand and feeling another shot of ouch go straight through me. "Oww..." Fucking Alice. "I'm going to kill Alice for making me wear these shoes."

"Are you okay, man?" Jasper's voice made me return to the real world.

"Bella?" Oh why? Why did he have to recognise me? I looked up and locked eyes with him, trying to keep my weight off my foot. He looked so worried... when he'd just fallen down thirty steps. "Are you alright?" Nodding, I went to speak, then tried to take a step forward. I barely withheld the shriek that tried to explode from my lips. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. No." His arms replaced Jasper's steadying hand, and I felt a jolt run through my forearm. Had I fallen funny there, too?

"I'll go and find someone to get you seen to... The physio's in the dressing room." No. Bad. Bella doesn't do well with... I went to tell them I'd be fine.

"No! No, I'm not worth that, I'll go to the..." Edward's arms tensed around me and I momentarily forgot where I was going, "I'll go to the St. John's Ambulance tent. It's not far away." I bit back a sigh as I felt his fingers clench in the fabric of my dress, "I'll be okay," I had to get out of his grip before I actually swooned. This was not going to be good.

"I'm... I'm really sorry," He pulled me back to him! The fucker actually wanted to destroy me. "But right now, I'm not letting you go." Oh... that might have been louder than I thought. He looked down at me with a little smirk and I really wanted to kick him. "Come on." I went to argue, but he held up his hand, and the Australian accent hit me full force. "With me." Bastard.

"A-are you-" He lifted me up. How in the hell did he lift me? "I'm wearing a dress!" It was the first thing I could think of to silence him. He looked down at me, and his smirk was replaced by the deep blush I'd seen only the day before.

He carried me upstairs, remarkably quickly, and set me down on one of the chairs by the home team balcony. My brain vaguely registered that I was sitting in the England Dressing Room, but Edward's voice set me out of that.

"Physio's coming, she won't be long, and I'll make sure you get seen to first. Then I'll let you go." He winked, and I realised his hand was still wrapped around mine. He stopped and smiled, crookedly and genuinely. "But while we wait, tell me about yourself."

Eh? What? Scuzi?

"I'd rather hear about your globetrotting, Mr. Masen, I'm hardly interesting," I glanced down at my swelling ankle and really wanted to get rid of those stupid shoes. By impaling Alice's favourite, and most expensive scarves on them, I think.

"It's Edward." He grinned, "And really, you seem like an incredibly interesting young woman." I quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled, "I assume you're a member?"

"Yeah, seven years. Since I was sixteen." I couldn't help but smile, "I assume you're Australian?" A couple of minutes later, The team physiotherapist strode in, looking terribly scary and very imposing, until she introduced herself as Victoria, and gently picked up my foot, perusing it for injuries.

As we spoke, and Victoria strapped my ankle, I tried to offer to pay for the things they were doing for me – it was hardly necessary, and it was nearly Eleven O'clock, they needed to be ready for the start of play, and they needed to be set for the game, rather than sitting here making nice with one of the members. I was hardly important.

Until he pressed his lips to my forehead.

I felt my eyes flicker closed and sighed as he did so, and I suddenly felt as though I was going to be comfortable with him, around him... I could smell his aftershave, and I let out a little gasp, trying to breathe.

"Are you okay?" I glanced up at his words, reluctantly opening my eyes; he smiled and laid his hand on mine as he sat down beside me. "Like, other than your ankle, are you bonzer?" I looked up at him, almost smirking as the Australian slang slipped out.

"I think so." I smiled, "Bruised ego, and that, but other than that, I think I'm good." I blinked a couple of times and felt his hand squeeze mine, "Thank you, so much, for being so kind... I'm sure your backside is probably hurting." I smiled, and he blushed at my mention of his arse.

"I'm okay. Just making sure the beautiful woman I seem intent on injuring is alright," He smiled again, and I shook my head. "What? I injured you..."

"You just ended up on top of me, it's not a problem, I guess I cushioned the blow," I smiled, feeling my stupid face, stupidly heat up.

"Hey, you know us cricketers," He laughed, "We can be on top all day, and still come second," I bit my bottom lip and looked up at him, wondering if he realised what he had said. From the huge blush on his face and the way his eyes darted everywhere but at my own face, I figured he had, "I-I-I mean... for the intents and purposes... oh, bloody hell," I blinked up at him, "I mean, my health comes second to yours, alright, darlin'?"

I blushed at the term of endearment, and the way he leaned forward to touch his lips to my forehead again made me want to explode.

Until the door burst open, and Emmett Cullen came in, swearing so much that I was surprised that his face wasn't blue.

"Bloody, bastard umpire, first fucking ball of the day, and I didn't fucking edge the fucking-"

"Emm, dude, lady present," Ben Cheney was already stepping in from the balcony, and I glanced up at the pair of them. He must have heard us talking, why didn't he – did he like Edward being uncomfortable, or... "Miss Bella." He nodded at me, and I looked up at Edward, frowning slightly.

"He knew my name?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"I... er, may have mentioned you in the nets this morning?" I raised the other eyebrow, and wondered if they had fallen off my face yet, or merely disappeared into my hairline. "What? Emmett asked me whether I remembered your name, didn't you, Cullen?" He addressed the final question to Emmett, who was clearly pretending not to listen, but whose straight back and screwed-up expression made me wonder whether he wasn't merely eavesdropping, but was constipated too, and who looked up with a sheepish smile at me.

"I did, indeed. Who was the dark haired one with you yesterday? And the Blonde?"

"Alice and Angela." I nodded at him, "Two best friends. No, I'm not giving you their numbers," Because his mouth had opened and I knew the look on his face.

"Oh. Damn." He did look genuinely disappointed, but I wouldn't budge on that.

I shook my head and took the cup of tea that had, apparently, been magically brewed in the thirty seconds I hadn't been looking at Edward for.

"Thank you," I said softly, "I-er, I'll just drink this, and I'll be going-" I went to sip the tea, but realised that the water was still pretty much boiling in the cup, and looked up at him again. "Seriously, Edward... thank you."

"You're welcome. It's not every day I'm hellbent on injuring someone I barely know." I choked out a laugh, and set the tea down beside me. "I'm sure you could stay here and watch the rest of the day's play, Bella." He said softly, before looking up to see where the team manager – and most of the team – were. I shook my head, and refused to meet his gaze.

"I shouldn't." I sighed, "I have work to get done, and I'm pretty sure you'll have every chance to distract me." I felt myself blushing again, and then a hand on my cheek as I kept my eyes on my ankle.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so." I nodded. "I'm going to go up to the roof garden, I think." I nodded to myself, more than to him, worried that if I looked up, I would find myself intoxicated once again, and felt my chest begin to pound, harder than ever before. "Thank you, Edward." I said it again, trying to stop my heart from telling me to stay in the seat. "For everything, really."

"No, Bella. It's not a problem." I shook my head and tried to stop myself from crying, because the sincerity in his voice and the pain in my ankle where I was trying to stand in combination were terrible. I went to pick up my bag and found it in his hands, rather than on the chair as I had expected. "Let me take it upstairs for you?"

"Okay," I nodded, and before I could take a step, I felt his arm around my waist. The door opened and I found myself stumbling up the stairs, arm around Edward, who was still carrying my bag.

Alice was going to love this, because I really, really did not want to let go.

#EDWARD MASEN #

Reluctantly, I left her at a table on the roofgarden, seated alone, staring out at the match, where, it appeared, Ben Cheney was slogging it all over the shop, without any regard for the fact that this game was a four day game, rather than a one day one.

She was still there when I was called out to bat, the lone figure sitting in the sunshine, staring out across the limited view of London, occasionally making notes on the paper I had seen her set out. As a number ten, I was hardly expected to be batting for long, and true to form, I was a walking wicket, just waiting to be bowled.

And, true to form. I was bloody bowled.

"Bad luck, Edd." Ben said softly as I passed him, and I started to go back toward the Pavilion, glancing up to see that she was gone.

Bella had left.

As I strode up to the dressing room again, I bowed my head and kept my eyes on the floor, until I felt the hand on my shoulder. I span around to see her, standing at the bottom of the stairs and watching me, a sad smile on her face.

"You looked like a rabbit in the headlights up against him." She said, almost at a whisper, almost reverent in the soft light of the Lord's Pavilion Corridors. "It was almost funny."

"Ha. Ha." I griped, and she rolled her eyes, before starting to giggle. "What?"

"I was just going to get a drink. I know you can't really join me... but I wanted to thank you for earlier." She looked away again, and I kept my eyes on her, waiting for her to look at me once more. When she finally did, she was blushing her face off, her eyes alight and embarrassed. "I really do." Another pause.

"Okay," I nodded, "You don't have to, you know?"

"I know." Another pause, "Would you like to have a drink with me? After the game?"

I stopped, looking at her as though she was insane. A gorgeous girl like that? A drink? How could I say no?

"I-er..." I swallowed and looked down at my feet, then back up at her, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She said, as though she thought I was insane.

"O-okay." I nodded. She smiled at me, and carried on down the stairs, leaving a question I really wish I could have asked, completely unanswered. I went to go after her, only realising I was still holding my bat in my hand as I took a step toward the stairs.

Bella Swan, are you asking me on a date?

~#~

In case you haven't seen my "Interview With Emmett" On the Blog, here is an extra question - feel free to tweet or comment, or review more...

"emmett! - what's the most successful chat up line you've used?" (Mouse555)

A) Well, M, I like to think I don't need a chat up line, because hey, just opening my mouth is good enough, right? But what do you say to "Grab your coat, you've pulled"? It's certainly worked more than once for me... and looks as though FreeFalling thinks it's worked too... (Looks over at Author, realises she is bundled up in jacket and hooker-heels), Coming, gorgeous...

Push the button, lovelies?

x