BPOV

"Bye, Edward. Thanks for dinner, it was wonderful. See you soon?" I asked Edward, as I stood in my doorway, and he stood in his. Dinner with Edward was beyond wonderful, but I didn't know any better descriptors at the moment.

"Bye, Bella, and sweet dreams. See you soon. And tell me if the Columbia's admission system gives you anymore trouble, alright?" Edward replied, smiling that crooked grin of his that looked so damn good.

I giggled, and waved good night, before shutting my door.

Edward was a very, very nice man. And a very, very nice friend, despite our 13 year age difference. If I had thought eating dinner alone with a man 13 years older than me would be weird and uncomfortable, I couldn't have been more wrong. Eating with Edward was … familiar, for lack of a better word. It was comfortable. It was calm, intriguing, peaceful, yet stimulating. Stimulating, mentally, and well, physically. I sighed.

Edward was definitely a looker. For someone so old, he sure looked good. His firmly chiseled abs and chest, and perfectly symmetrical face made him look like a model. A Calvin Klein underwear model.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, and went to take a shower. It was inappropriate, thinking about my new friend like this. Yes, after 18 years, I finally had a friend. I had acquaintances in High School, but no friends. It was hard for me to make friends, when I was naturally shy, and when my mother kept me on a tight curfew. I used to think she cared about me, giving me such a tight curfew. I used to think it was because she cared very much for my safety. Those thoughts kept me sane, and gave me a little inkling of hope that my mother did care for me after all. But as I grew older, I learnt that it was not so. She kept me on such a tight curfew to prevent people from knowing that I was her daughter. The daughter of housing tycoon, Renee Dwyer. It was an unspoken rule that I was not to let people know that I was her daughter. It was the unspoken rule that henceforth, I could not get close to any of my classmates, couldn't invite them over, and the tight curfew kept me from going over to their house. Hence, for the past 18 years, I never had a single friend.

When Edward offered to sign my guardianship papers, I was eternally grateful to him, and was practically prepared to worship the very ground he walked on. He was an angel sent from above, I thought, all the Sunday's spent going to church praying turned out not to be totally in vain. Up till 3 hours ago, I thought God was being very biased against me, and seriously doubted his existence. Now, I was thanking the heavens, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, God and the Holy Spirit for giving me such an awesome neighbor, and friend, who would sign my guardianship papers when he barely knew me.

Talking with Edward was fun, too. He wasn't old and fudgy, as I might have thought before. In fact, he was engaging and intelligent, and I found that I could relate with much of his life. Edward came from a very rich family – his father, Edward Mason, was a very rich oil billionaire, and apparently, a very ardent womanizer too. He had 2 sons, by 2 different women, Edward, and James. Edward Senior wanted both his son to take over the business, but Edward refused, insisting on following his dreams to becoming an architect instead. Enraged, Edward Senior cut off all ties with Edward, refusing to even pay his college fees, even when Edward made it to the renowned Columbia Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation.

Edward had slogged it out, and made it to school on a scholarship, which was where he encountered the stupid Columbia admission requirement for a guardian. Thankfully, he had met Carlisle Cullen, a surgeon at the hospital.

Edward spoke of Carlisle, and his wife, Esme, with high regards and reverence, so much so that I could almost feel the kindness and warmth that Carlisle had provided him with. He said Carlisle had given him not only a home, but a feel of what real parents were like. He said he treated Carlisle and Esme as his real parents, which was why he had his name changed to Edward Cullen, from Edward Mason. I almost envied him for knowing such nice and kind people.

I sighed again. It was nice talking to Edward, almost too nice. Every brush against him, every accidental touch sent my body into hypersensitive mode. It was almost wrong, he was 13 years older than me, for heavens sake. What was my problem, being attracted physically to a man so much older than me? In the first place, Edward must have plenty of female relations. He was good looking, rich, smooth, funny. He was, in other words, everything I was not. Minus the wealth, that was our only similarity. Yet, this similarity was a difference in itself. Edward had earned his money by his own hard work, running his own international architecture firm. I hadn't earned my money at all, it was given to me by my guilty parents who practically used it to buy me out of their lives.

No, Edward Cullen was out of my league, if I even had one. I cannot entertain such thoughts of being with him in such a manner, I should be satisfied that he was even willing to be my friend and guardian.

The next morning, I was at Columbia's admission office bright and early to submit the forms to Mrs. Cope.

"Ms. Swan. So you've finally decided to get your parents to sign the forms, I see." Mrs. Cope had said, by way of greeting.

I grimaced at the mention of my parents, and shook my head in the negative.

"No, as I said yesterday, my parents are not around. I got a guardian to sign the forms." I said, as I handed her the manila envelope.

"A guardian? And I thought you said you didn't know anyone in New York? Ms. Swan, lying is very unbecoming of a future Columbian student." Mrs. Cope said, raising a busy and poorly groomed eyebrow at me, her eyes accusing.

I felt hurt at her words, but swallowed my emotions and retorted, "Yes, I didn't know anyone in New York. My very kind neighbor offered to be my guardian yesterday. I'm sure you'll find the papers in good order."

"Very well, I see." She said. I clenched my fists at my side, resisting the urge to slap this infuriating woman.

Mrs. Cope took out the papers, and began looking through them. As she looked through them, she gave me a weird look.

"Is anything the matter?" I asked.

"Mr. Cullen of Cullen's architecture is your neighbor? Your guardian?" She asked, looking at me.

"Yes, he is. Is anything the matter?"

"N-no, not at all." She finally replied. Putting the papers back into the manila envelope, she turned to me and said, "The papers are in order. If I could have your admission acceptance forms -"

I plucked them out of another file, and handed it to her, holding my breath.

After what seemed like forever, she finally nodded.

"Ms. Swan, you are now officially a student of Columbia University. You will receive your schedule and lessons courses in the mail shortly."

I nodded, thanked her curtly, and took my leave.

On the way out, I gave myself a figurative pack on the back, and said a silent word of prayer to thank god for letting me know Edward Cullen, and to bless that kind man, wherever he may be.

EPOV

"So, how's ya new neighbor?" Jasper enquired, cheekily. "Does she frustrate you, sexually?" He asked, eyebrows moving wiggling suggestively.

I threw a stapler at him.

"Don't be so crude, Jasper Whitlock. I'll have your ass fired for being rude to your boss." I replied, biting into my chicken sandwich. We were having lunch together – at my desk.

He laughed, shaking his head. "So how's she, honestly? You said you couldn't get her out of your head the last time we spoke. Got her into your pants yet?"

I threw a ruler at him.

"Bella's a fine girl, Whitlock. She's sweet, intelligent, funny, beautiful-"

I was cut off by a guffaw from Jasper. "God, Cullen, ya got it bad! And how old is she, again?"

"18, Jasper. 18. I swear, I'm not pedophilic. But I can't stop those feelings whenever I see her. No other female had aroused my interest ever, except for her. I can't just let her go just because she's 18. And 18 is legal, Jasper. Argh, tell me, is it wrong to like a girl 13 years younger than me?" I groaned in conflict with my emotions.

"No, it's not. As you said, 18's legal. I must meet that girl, Cullen. No one has managed to elicit such emotions from ya. Geeze, ya almost seemed normal there for a sec." Jasper said.

I chuckled humorlessly.

"But she might not even like me. I'm so much older than her. Why would she like me, when there are plenty other willing guys her age? And trust me when I say they'll be willing."

"It's up to ya, Cullen. Do you want to give up this shot at happiness, just because she was born a little later than ya? Obviously, ya care for her very much. Ya like her, very much. You've never liked women as much as her. Why not go for it, for all ya know, she might like you too." Jasper replied, looking at me keenly. "God knows, Edward, if anyone deserves some happiness, it's ya." He drawled in his lazy southern accent.

I smiled at my best friend, and closed my eyes tightly.

"I do care for her, very much. She reminds me so much of myself when I was younger, alone in New York. Just yesterday, she was crying, because she couldn't find a legal guardian for school. Her parents have left her alone in New York, whoever they are. I felt so torn and sad for her." I told Jasper.

He nodded his head. "So what did you do?"

"I signed the guardianship forms for her." I replied, looking down.

Jasper whistled. "So her parents are really… not around?"

"They're alive, from what she told me. She doesn't know where they are. They gave her the apartment, and money for college and survival, and just disappeared from their only daughter's life." I told him, thinking of how my parents were very much similar.

"Still no idea who those heartless parents are? Swan, you say. What's her mother's last name?"

I shook my head. "She won't say."

"Protecting her parent's interest, perhaps? So her parents must be some pretty big hot shot, eh?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, she doesn't say much about them. I wish I knew, though. I wish I knew who were those heartless people who just abandoned her in New York. From how she acts, it seems as though her parents never bothered about her in her entire life. It pains me."

Jasper whistled again. "Good god, Cullen. You really do care for the girl, don't cha? Sure ya ain't gonna make a move on her? For the first time in the time I known ya, you actually sound like ya have some emotions there- it's a pleasant change, I like it!"

I threw my finished sandwich wrapper at him.

"Get out, Whitlock. I'm not opposed to sending you back to Texas!"

He simply chuckled. "Oh, Cullen, ya'll thank me one day, when you make a move to capture her lil' heart. The completion ya'll feel if she's the one, it's beyond words. Like ya gone up to the heavens."

The completion ya'll feel if she's the one.

I thought back to how utterly happy I felt yesterday, eating dinner with her, just talking about everything and nothing in particular. The way she made my heart stutter, the way she made my body react like a 17 year old hormonal teenager. The way she made my brain reel. The way she made me smile at everything she did or said.

Was I really falling for Bella Swan?

I shook the thought out of my head and refocused my attention on my work.

At half past seven, I finished a deal with some South American company for concrete supplies, and finally packed up to leave.

As I drove home in my Volvo, I couldn't help but wonder who Bella's parents were. It was very intriguing, you couldn't deny that. Wealthy enough to leave her an apartment in uptown New York, and practically million of dollars in hard cash. Heartless enough to leave their only daughter alone in New York, and change their phone numbers after that. And that last name, Swan. It certainly made for an interesting little mystery.

Ah, well. Perhaps I'll find out more about her parents this weekend – I had planned to bring Bella around New York for a bit, to show her the famous architectures of this city.

BPOV

I had spent the better half of the day purchasing a cell phone. As I sat at the kitchen window, which happened to look out to Edward's kitchen's window, fiddling with my phone, I couldn't help find it rather ironic that I had bought a cell phone when there was absolutely nobody's number I could save into it.

Hell, I didn't know anyone's number in this State, or in the entire of the United States for that matter. As I looked out the window, I couldn't help but wonder if it would sound rather forward if I asked for Edward's number –just so my phone wouldn't look so pathetic, and so I actually had a real person's phone number in the memory, apart from all the Pizza outlets and Chinese takeout numbers which I had so painstakingly keyed and saved into my phone.

Until I knew Edward, I never knew that dull ache I felt within my chest all the time was not normal. Before I had experienced the taste of friendship, I never knew what I felt before was loneliness. It seemed as though once you had a taste of something, invariably, then you knew what you'd been missing all this while. I looked out my window, and sighed. I almost missed Edward, whether it was because I simply longed for the companionship I never had, or because I missed his laughter, his smile, the brilliant green of his eyes, I didn't know.

I finally pulled myself away from the window, and set to work getting some dinner. I had forgone lunch, and decided that I should not refuse myself dinner either.

As I chopped some carrots, I was startled by a shout from outside my window.

"Hey, Bella!"

I jumped at the sudden noise, and my hand slipped from the knife, causing it to slice my other finger holding the carrot in place.

I gave a small cry when I saw that my finger was producing quite a large amount of blood, to my immense horror. Edward poked his head in through the window, startling me again.

"Bella? Are you alright? I just said hey." He said, looking in through my window.

I held my hand under the running water as I spoke to him, trying not to notice the blood on the chopping board, or the blood that was still flowing freely from my finger.

"I'm sorry, you startled me and I accidentally cut myself, which was why I didn't reply you immediately." I replied, distractedly.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry for startling you. Is the cut very deep? Would you like me to take a look at it?"Edward asked, concern all over his face.

I shook my head in horror at the thought of bothering him with something as small as my cut finger.

"Oh, no, Edward, please don't. I'm fine my finger's fine. I'm sure it's just a small cut. There's no need to worry yourself over it." I hurried to say, as I grabbed a paper towel to dry my finger out.

Edward was silent for a bit, and I thought I might have hurt his feelings, when he came jumping in through my window. I gasped in shock, and jumped backwards.

"Bella, your hand, is not fine. Look, it must be a very deep cut." He gestured to the paper towel around my finger. I looked down at it, and sure enough, the paper towel was soaked right through bright red. I nearly fainted at the sight of so much blood, and had to grab hold of the counter to steady myself.

Edward took one look at me, and lifted me up easily onto the kitchen table.

I gasped, again. Good god, if I wasn't crashing into his chest, all I seemed able to do was to gasp when he was around.

"Sit, Bella." He ordered sternly, as he stood between my legs, and took my hands in his, unwrapping the bloody paper towel. I looked away, not wanting to see what damage I had done to my finger, and because the close proximity to him was doing things to my head and body. In a blue shirt and grey slacks, his tie loose around his neck, Edward Cullen looked every bit the model he could have been. He reached for the first aid kit on top of my fridge, and after sterilizing my finger with a particularly painful solution, and pressing a cold compress onto it, he bandaged it up nice and good, so that no blood could be seen from the outside.

I was beyond mortified, that every time I met this guy, he seemed to have to help me in some way or another. How shameful was that? What must he think of me, indeed. What if he didn't want to be my friend anymore? My parents didn't seem to like me because I asked for help all the time.

I blinked back my tears of frustration at my incompetence, and looked away from my finger. He was holding on to my hand. Engulfed in his much larger one, it somehow looked… right.

"Hey, Bella, don't cry. Is it very painful? I'm sorry I couldn't do it in a less painful manner… Carlisle's the doctor, not me." He said, chuckling ruefully, mistaking my tears.

I shook my head, and cleared my throat in a pitiful attempt to speak.

"Thanks, Edward. I'm so sorry, it seems like every time I meet you, I need your help in one form or another. I'm so sorry for bothering you like this all the time. I'm sure it must be very annoying." I said.

Edward frowned.

"Bella, how many times must I tell you that it's not a sin to ask for help? There's nothing wrong in asking for help when you need it, Bella. And in the first place, you never asked me for help, I offered it. In no way do I find helping you annoying, Bella. In fact, I find that I want to, very much." He said, his voice lowering towards the end.

I shook my head, helpless against his strong emerald gaze.

"But you must find it annoying. I'm sure you have better things to do than to help me. I'm nobody, nothing good will come out of helping me. " I said, remembering the way my parents used to shoo me away whenever I asked for help.

Once, when I was 9, I had cut myself against a shard of glass lying on the table where my father had broken a wine bottle (from Swan's vinery, of course). My hand had started bleeding profusely, and I had panicked, running to him and asking for help to stop the blood. Instead of giving me a band aid, my father, lost in his drunken stupor, threw another wine bottle at me, and shouted at me to get lost.

"Get lost , Isabella. You useless good for nothing. God knows why I brought you into this life. God, when your mother wanted to get rid of you, I should have agreed. Hell knows why I thought it might have been a good idea to have a child. You're nothing but a nuisance. And clean up the blood stains on the floor, they disgust me. You disgust me!" My father had yelled.

I cringed away in shock and fear, covered in a bottle of expensive red wine, running upstairs to my room, where I had managed to use a bunch of toilet papers to stop the blood from flowing all over myself after washing off the wine. I had returned downstairs, and scrubbed the floor clean afterwards.

The next day, needless to day, my finger had gotten infected. Thanks to the good will of the helper who came to clean the house and who found my hand swollen and full of pus, I had gotten to the doctors in time to prevent septis from setting in.

I shook my head to clear the memory out and focus on the situation at hand.

Edward frowned.

"Bella, who told you that you're a nobody? And who said helping was annoying?" he asked.

I shook my head again, refusing to tell him about my parents. But Edward seemed to guess, either ways.

"Bella," He began again, very slowly, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. "There is nothing wrong in helping people, when they're in need. There's nothing wrong in friends helping each other, that's what friends are for. There's also nothing wrong or shameful in asking for help, or receiving help. I don' know what your parents told you, but heaven knows that help is nothing bad. Bella, believe me, I don't mind helping you. In fact, I would mind very much if you refused my help."

I looked at him, stunned. How did he know what my parents told me? He would mind if I refused his help?

Why, oh why, was this guy so horribly nice to me?

As though sensing my emotions, Edward pulled me towards him, hugging me. In the spur of the moment, I flung my hands around his neck and clung on tightly.

"Thank you, Edward." I said, my voice muffled against his chest. He smelled so damn good, like ciderwoods and cinnamon. So uniquely… Edward.

Edward didn't seem to mind my outburst, and hugged me back, squeezing my arms reassuringly.

"I'm here for you always, Bella. You'll never be annoying to me." He said, into my hair.

Everything was so damn confusing. He says I'll never be annoying to him, but my parents hated me when they had to help me. They found me irritating and useless.

"But doesn't it irritate you to have to help me?" I couldn't help asking.

"No, Bella." He growled, tightening his hold on me.

"My parents didn't like me very much when I asked for help." I finally admitted against his chest. Somehow, his broad, hard chest gave me the security to admit my insercurities to him.

"Oh, Bella. Your parents must have been the anomaly, then. I won't like you any less if I helped you, Bella. Really, normal people don't dislike people when they help them. We help people who we like, Bella, because we care for them. I care for you, so I help you. Forget about your parents, I'm not them. God, I could kill them for what they make you think." He growled again.

I nodded against his chest, his words touching me. He sighed, stroking my hair in a comforting gesture.

When we finally pulled apart, Edward ran his hand through my hair in an attempt to straighten it back.

"So what were you planning on having for dinner?" He asked casually.

"A salad. But it's kind of late, I'll just call one of the many takeaways whose numbers I stored in my phone today." I told him. "Do you want dinner too? Take it as my payment to you for helping me." I said, looking up into his eyes.

He frowned, and my heart stilled. Did he not want dinner? Or was I too presumptious in assuming he would like to eat with me? Perhaps he had a dinner date. Gosh, was I delaying him from his girlfriend? My heart sank at all the possibilities.

"I would love to have dinner with you, Bella. But it's not payment, I don't want payment for helping you." He said.

I smiled. "Are you sure your girlfriend isn't waiting for you to have dinner with her?" I asked just to make sure.

He grinned at me, lopsidedly.

"No jealous girlfriends to be worried about, Bella. I've never dated."

My eyes widened at his admission. How was that possible? But I decided not to pry, and called the nearest takeaway for food.

As I called them, Edward helped me get rid of the bloody knife and food, washing everything.

"So, Bella, I see you've bought you new phone. How coincidental, I have the same model, in a different color." He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Indeed, his was a black iPhone, while mine was a white one. I laughed with him at the coincidence, and my thoughts from earlier came back to me. Before I could garner the courage to ask if my new friend would give me his phone number, he reached out for my phone. I handed it to him in confusion.

Edward winked. Yes, winked.

"I'm putting my number in your phone, just so you can call me to be your white knight if you ever need help again, or if you just want someone to talk to." He said, smirking at me.

I gulped.

Before I could respond, he had used my phone to call his phone, storing my number in his phone too.

"And I'm storing your number in my phone, in case I want to call this beautiful girl to chat, or be her white knight when she's too stubborn to ask for help."

I gulped again, staring up at him wide-eyed. He simply helped me off the counter, kissing the top of my head.

My head swam in confusion as I followed him into my living room.

Did Edward Cullen just flirt with me?