A/N: You know what's great about having Tuesdays off? I can work Saturday and, on holiday weekends, I still get a three day weekend. :D

Hope you guys are having a good time.

Edward knew damn well he was out of line and out of control. But then, that was always the case where this particular woman was concerned.

For the millionth time since the night before, Edward kicked himself. Damn, stubborn woman. He wasn't that guy—the guy who didn't know how to keep his hands to himself. She made him into a man he didn't want to be.

No. She didn't make him anything. He was responsible for his own actions, which was another reason why his lack of control was disconcerting. She'd always been the very last person he should be interested in; the epitome of a bad idea. First, the married woman and now the woman who hated his guts.

Nothing about how he felt when he was around Bella was normal for him. To this day, he remembered the jolt that had gone down his spine when he first saw her. He'd been in class, only half listening, when the sound of her voice, the succinct summation of her response to the professor's question, drew his attention. He'd laid eyes on her and had to sit up straighter in his seat.

It wasn't that her beauty was striking. He never would have been able to pinpoint what it was. He just liked the look of her. He liked the way her hair flowed down her back, liked the way she held herself—straight and alert. He liked the cock of her head as she listened attentively to what the professor had to say, and he liked her ass in those jeans.

If Bella knew the way he'd watched her during that first class they had together, she'd have his balls. But that was the way it had always been with him. He'd been obsessed from the first glance, unable to shake whatever this was, the pull that was so much more than attraction or lust. He'd watched her, cataloguing bits and pieces of information, observing that she was smart and confident, yet unashamed of admitting where the gaps in her knowledge lay. She'd question a professor incessantly, often staying behind after class let out to get further clarification, if she didn't quite grasp a concept.

Edward had thought more than once about offering to tutor her. School had always come easy to him, and medical school was no exception. But no. He thought she seemed like the type who preferred to battle it out on her own.

There was something about Bella that unsettled him—made him restless in his own skin, desperate with want. Not necessarily a want to have something with her—although, that went without question—but at least to quiet the buzz in his blood. She drove him to distraction. Whenever he was near her, she quickly became the thing he was most aware of.

It had always been this way; he'd always been half out of his mind where she was concerned.

Shortly after the party where Edward had first kissed Bella, he'd vented to his best friend. To this day, he remembered his own agitation, how he paced around the living room of his apartment, ranting and making a mess out of his hair.

To his surprise, Santiago laughed. "Do you know what your problem is, Edward?"

Edward stopped pacing to look at him. His friend was giving him a strangely thoughtful look. "You're not used to not getting what you want."

"What?" Edward narrowed his eyes. He gave a huff of a laugh. "Women have said no to me before. I'm not the kind of asshole who can't take no for an answer."

Santiago held his hands up. "I'm not calling you an asshole. I'm just saying that you want this woman. I mean, you really want her. You like her, and you want her."

"And I'm not used to not getting what I want," Edward finished for him, glaring. "I'm not an entitled prick."

"Well…" Santiago smirked. "Look, don't get me wrong. You work hard. No one's saying you didn't work for the things you've accomplished, but seriously. Can you think of a time you've ever not gotten something you wanted? Something you really wanted?" He ticked things off on his hand. "The car you wanted when you were sixteen. The school you wanted when you were eighteen and again when you were twenty-one. This kick-ass apartment. Every spring break trip you've dreamed of. Every summer in Europe or South America or...didn't you go to Antarctica once?"

"It was the same trip as South America. And I brought you on a couple of those."

"Yes, and I still appreciate it, but that's beside the point." Santiago grinned at him. "You want Bella the way you wanted all those things. They weren't whims. They were important to you, and so is she. You got all those things, and you can't have her. That's why it's driving you nuts."

"It's not a matter of me wanting her. She deserves more than her husband is giving her. She deserves—"

"You?"

Edward scowled. "No, not me," he lied. Yes, him. It wasn't that Jacob was a horrible person. It was just that Edward was better suited for her in every way he could think of. "Just...I don't know. Not him."

Santiago saw right through the lie and clapped him on the back. "This is what I mean, Eddo. Life just hasn't taught you that not only do you not always get what you want, but sometimes, it doesn't even matter if it makes all the sense in the world. It doesn't matter if you earned it. You might not get it. And you don't earn human beings, which means her husband doesn't have to deserve her. He just has to be the one she wants. That's it."

He wanted her. Not in the passing way he wanted any woman he was vaguely interested in. He wanted all of her. Her friendship. Her smiles. Her beautiful mind. Important, Santiago had called her.

And there was no way he could have what he wanted. There never had been.

It had been Santiago Edward vented to again at lunch one day. It had been two years after Jacob's death. Edward had tried to approach Bella, and she'd turned the other direction, cold fury radiating off her.

"It's not that I think she should be over it. Her husband died. That's horrible. But she knows." He dragged his breadstick through the artichoke dip with particular force. "It's just that she knows. She knows. She's lost patients. She's lost patients exactly the way I lost Jacob Black. She knows how awful that feels."

Santiago stared at him. "She knows how awful losing a patient feels? Edward, do you know how awful it feels losing someone close to you?"

"I appreciate that, but—"

"But nothing. She doesn't owe you rationality. You were the last one to see her husband alive. She's allowed to hate your guts, I mean, as long as she doesn't hurt you." He quirked a brow. "She beat you up or something?"

Edward rolled his eyes.

"Does she bad mouth you?"

"No," Edward said with a grunt. "She told a patient who had to transfer to my hospital that I was more practiced at endonasal endoscopies than she is." He paused. "Although, that's just the truth. I happen to have performed more than she has."

Santiago fixed him with a look, and Edward sighed. "Professionally, she speaks as highly of me as I do of her."

"I guarantee you that most patients' loved ones don't even have to remember the surgeons who worked on their loved ones. You've lost other patients, right?"

"Yes, of course. And each of them has weighed on me."

"That's not the point. The point is that none of your patients' loved ones like you. The best they can do is forget you exist, but I'll bet some of them downright loathe you for letting someone die on your watch, even if it's an idle thought. People question all the time whether or not their doctors and surgeons did their best, gave their all, or even gave a fuck." Santiago smirked. "My mother was in the hospital last year. I'd swear up and down that ninety percent of the nurses were just eager to get back to their gossip. You don't even want to know what I thought about the doctor who could only spare us exactly four minutes every other day. And Momma lived."

"Well, if you had a bad experience—"

"Bella had a bad experience. Her husband died. She's under no obligation to say a single kind word to you, and that's even if you didn't have history." Santiago flashed him a sympathetic smile. "Deal with it, kiddo."

Deal with it.

If she'd been any other patient's wife, that wouldn't have been a problem. He did try. After that initial attempt, he'd done his best to pretend she didn't exist when they were in the same room. He didn't look at her, didn't attempt to smile at her, and tried not to be anywhere that there was a chance they'd be in the same vicinity.

But then she'd showed up at his parents' house right in front of him. Damn her. He still didn't understand why she'd insisted on going through with the program when he was involved. Then again, Edward could have said no too. Why had heinsisted on going through with the program? He was doing his mother a favor, sure, but there were a lot of other people in her life that could have done what he was doing.

It didn't matter now. They were in it, and Edward was going to have to learn how to deal with the intensity of whatever the hell was going on between them. He was going to have to forget that both times he'd kissed Bella, she'd kissed him back. He was going to have to forget the niggling idea that maybe, just maybe, Bella had to fight just as hard as he did to ignore the pull between them.

Regardless, she didn't want to want him. That was clear, and that should be all he needed to know. It wasn't like she was going to cause any trouble for the project.

The morning they were all supposed to leave, Edward was up earlier than the rest. He was still pacing in the lobby, attempting to put out the first of what promised to be many fires on this trip. Their flight had been delayed. He'd told his mother it was a dumb idea to schedule their first engagement in same afternoon they flew in. So, now he was arranging a new flight and arguing with the airlines about what they were going to do about the money spent on the old flight.

Edward was on hold when the others came downstairs. They were far enough away that he couldn't tell what they were saying, and maybe that was a good thing. As it was, his stomach churned and anger had his free hand curled in a fist.

Bella and Benjamin were walking together. They weren't touching, but his head was bent toward hers, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her smile grew wider, into a full blown laugh at whatever he said.

Edward turned away, trying not to scowl. What the hell was she doing with him anyway? She was way too smart to fall for his charming act. He was an actor, for fuck's sake, and not one known for long-term relationships. He was just after one thing. Was she really going to let herself be dazzled? She was better than that.

"Mr. Cullen? Is that an acceptable option?"

Giving his head a shake, Edward turned his attention back to the phone conversation. He had a job to do.

~0~

Fucking faulty airplanes.

In his quest to keep as far away from Bella as possible, Edward had chosen a seat at the back of the original plane while her seat was at the front. The new flight was crowded, and as a result, Edward was seated right behind Bella.

Of course, of fucking course, Benjamin had charmed the people in the seat next to Bella so both he and Tyler were in the same row. Naturally, being a gentleman, Benjamin took the middle seat. He was charming the pants off both women, though he was trying particularly hard in Bella's case.

Edward's jaw ached from being clenched for so long. He had a moment's vindication when Bella started to correct the asshole on New Orleans' history. He'd been showing off and, as Edward expected, was so full of crap.

Benjamin tsked. "You were going to let me make a fool of myself, weren't you? Take you around New Orleans, telling you stories you already know."

Bella chuckled. "Like I was going to pass up a chance like that. You usually get paid millions of dollars for your storytelling services, don't you? I'm a sucker for a good deal."

"Sucks to be you. I'm not going to take you on a history date anymore."

A date? They were already going on a date? Christ, they'd met yesterday.

"Your loss, buddy boy," Bella said, taunting him right back. "I'm excellent company."

"I didn't say we weren't going on any date. Just not a history one."

"There are other kinds?" Bella asked in mock surprise. "Well, I've been missing out all these years. What are we talking here, a seedy bar and a pool table?"

"How about jazz?"

"All that jazz?"

"New Orleans is known for its jazz scene."

Bella hummed. "I'm more of a country girl," she said with a slight twang.

Edward arched an eyebrow. "Really?" Benjamin asked, sounding surprised.

"No," Bella said, deadpanned.

Benjamin gave a huff of laughter. "I see how you are." He was so charmed by her; Edward could tell. "Do you know how to dance?"

Now it was Bella who laughed. "Oh, hell no."

Yeah. Hell no.

"Come on. It's easy," Benjamin cajoled.

The lady said no, Edward wanted to tell him. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I can teach you," Benjamin said.

Of course he could.

"We'll go to a place with a live band. I bet you'll know how to swing dance by the end of the night."

"You're so full of shit," Bella said, her tone incredulous.

Benjamin shifted in his seat, offering her a hand. "Come on. I'll bet you."

Beside them, Tyler chuckled. "Dancing's fun, Bella. It's not too hard when you have a good partner." There was a suggestive lilt to her tone. "Especially in the big easy. Jazz goes right to your bones." Her shoulders shimmied as she danced in her seat. "It's as easy as breathing."

Funny. Edward thought he liked Tyler last night.

"It's not easy for someone with no rhythm," Bella said. She hadn't touched Benjamin's hand. As far as he could tell, the man was still holding it up, ready to shake on it.

He shook it at her. "Come on. I'll bet you. Friendly wager."

"For what?"

Yeah, Benjamin. For what? Edward knew exactly what he wanted. Bastard was caught.

"Hmm." Benjamin hummed. "If I can have you out on the dance floor, dancing a swing dance, you owe me a trip to Griffith Observatory when you go to LA next week."

"Ha." Bella shook her head, but she sounded amused. "You're angling for date number two when you haven't been on date one yet?"

Edward gnashed his teeth. It'd be a damn good date too. An observatory he knew had a great view of the city, particularly at night.

"What's it matter? You suck at dancing, remember? So it should be no problem. I'm going to lose the bet."

"And if you lose the bet?"

"Then I have to charm you the old fashioned way, I suppose. Though, LA is my hometown. I can pretty much guarantee—"

"I mean, what do I get when I win?"

"Oh, right. Hmm. Do you want to meet Ryan Reynolds?"

Oh, for the love of…

Bella sputtered. "I…" She huffed. "What makes you think I have any interest in that?"

"Anyone who doesn't think he's attractive at least thinks he's funny."

"Take the bet. For God's sake, girl," Tyler said. "There is no losing in this situation."

Sure, Edward thought. If dignity wasn't a big loss.

"Fine. Teach me to dance." Bella shook Benjamin's hand.

~0~

It had been a long damn day. He'd herded everyone directly from the airport to the first school, while simultaneously making sure their luggage got to the hotel. Of course, there was a problem at the hotel that Edward had to take care of while his people were ushered out in front of a small auditorium full of kids.

He'd slipped into the back of the dilapidated space just in time to catch the tail end, where Bella, Benjamin, and Tyler were taking questions from the kids.

Edward had always liked watching Bella speak. If she wasn't talking about medicine—procedure and technicalities—there was a hint of shyness about her. She did this thing where she tilted her head into her hand, playing with a strand of hair and stumbling a bit over her words.

It was nice to see her off her game—like he was catching a crack in the armor she wore. Yet, even in her most self-conscious moments, her answers were well thought out.

"I mean, I'm kind of a zombie, right?" she said, grinning at the kid who'd asked her a question. "You know. Braaains. Brrrraiiins." She had her hands tucked up tight to her chest, cringing in a zombie pose.

The kids had laughed, and Edward smiled. She was so funny sometimes.

They'd all gotten to the hotel eventually. Edward had phone calls to make, so the other three had dinner together. Edward had gotten back to the hotel's restaurant just after Bella had excused herself.

"She's gotta freshen up," Tyler said, chortling. She bumped Benjamin's side, and the man had the audacity to wink at her.

"Right," Edward said, his throat tight. He made an effort to keep his tone light. "We have two schools tomorrow. One of them is early, so…"

Benjamin tilted his head a tick, something going through his eyes as he studied Edward. "Of course," he said smoothly. "We'll be back before we turn into pumpkins."

"Right."

Edward had tried to distract himself. He called his mother to let her know, in great detail, how it had all gone. He talked to his father. He returned a few calls from the hospital about a few cases he'd left pending for the few days he'd be gone. He did everything he could not to think about Benjamin leading Bella in a dance, his arms around her, catching her when she stumbled.

He ended up downstairs at yet another bar. It wasn't such a great idea considering he'd done the same damn thing the night before. This time, though, he wasn't going to accidentally find Bella there. He wasn't going to try to talk to her, and he wasn't going to end up kissing her.

And she wasn't going to kiss him back. She was going to kiss—

"Can I get you another, buddy?" the bartender offered.

"Oh, hell yes."

Another hour later, Edward's head was finally clear. He'd made his way up to the outdoor pool area of the hotel. The night air cooled his heated cheeks. He looked out at the lights of New Orleans, listening to the not-so-far off strains of music filtering up into the night air. There was a couple on the other side of the wide space, but the pool was closed. The lights cast an eerie blue glow, distorted by the water.

Edward sat in the darkness, finally free of his helpless obsession for a few minutes. He was so sick of being plagued by the need to relieve some of this tension. Why did he care so much?

For the moment, it didn't matter. He enjoyed the smell and sounds of the city. He smiled at the laughter of the couple at the other end of the space.

Minutes or an hour may have passed. The couple had left or else they were busy doing quieter things. Edward was watching the stars. He heard the click-clack of a woman stepping across the concrete at a measured pace. The sound stopped right near his head. Edward, spaced out, hardly noticed her presence until he heard her sigh.

He looked up and, sure enough, Bella was there. She was looking out at the same view, pulling her sweater tighter over her shoulders. His heart gave a weird twist as he stared at her. She seemed wistful, her expression far off, and her hair ruffling in the light breeze.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. It was a sound of resignation. "So, who won the bet?"

She gasped, stumbling a few steps backward. Her wide eyes narrowed as she saw him there. "What did you say?"

Edward unwound himself, sitting up and staring into her eyes. "Did you dance?" He didn't want to think of her dancing with Benjamin, but he did like to think of her dancing—the way her hips would move.

"What business is it of yours?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

He laughed again and stood. He took a step toward her without thinking. "It's none of my business," he murmured. His eyes traveled up and down her body. He liked her flirty dress. "Griffith Observatory is nice. They filmed parts of Rebel Without a Cause there." He liked the red of her lipstick. He couldn't help staring at her lips. "There's a bust of James Dean." His eyes met hers again. "And the stars are pretty."

She swayed in place, her head tilted up as she watched him. He took a step closer, and she didn't move. Her eyes were fire and uncertainty and…

God, he wanted to kiss her. He raised a hand as if to touch her, stopping when she flinched. She held her ground, swallowing audibly. He let his hand drop to his side.

"You didn't go home with him," he said, his drink-addled mind slow on the uptake. It was still relatively early, and she was wearing the same clothes she'd left the hotel in.

She pressed her mouth into a thin line. "What is it to you? Or let me guess. He doesn't deserve me either."

"He doesn't." Edward growled the words.

Now she was the one to take a step toward him, and though she was so much shorter, she seemed to tower over him, her glare piercing. "It must be nice being you. Edward Cullen knows everything. You don't even have to ask him. He's glad to tell you what you should and shouldn't want for your own life."

She pushed past him, her heels click-clacking. His hand darted out and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her back. She gasped, her fist clenched, but she didn't yank her arm back. She stared at him. He stared back.

One. Two. Three tense seconds passed. He swallowed hard and let go of her, taking a large step back. She held his gaze for another heartbeat. Then, she turned and hurried back inside.

A/N: Many thanks to my long suffering pre-readers, Mina, Packeh, Betsy, MoH, Eleanor, and Ausha took a peek at this one while I wrestled with it.

So! How's trix?