Author's Note: Thanks to moosals for pre-reading on short notice. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.
Each "section" of the story has three chapters. This is part 2 of "The Birthday."
I will not let Edward distract me. We will spend time talking today. We will not have sex in my office.
Maybe if I could repeat those statements often enough, I'd actually follow through.
Edward entered my office without knocking promptly at ten o'clock. Before I could even register his arrival, he had me up out of my chair, showing me exactly how talented his lips and tongue were.
"Edward," I moaned when he moved onto my neck, "No making out today. We really need to talk — I have progress reports on all of my patients due to my supervisor by five this afternoon."
Undeterred, Edward continued dazzling me, his hands cupping my ass as he pulled me against his erection. "I mean it, Edward," I insisted, using my hands to push his chest back.
Edward sighed, then pouted, then finally nodded, moving around my desk to take his seat in the guest chair.
"Ok, Doc, shrink me."
I rolled my eyes. "First of all, I have at least a couple more years before I get my doctorate. Secondly, I am a counselor, not a psychiatrist."
"Whatever," he shrugged.
"I figured today we could talk about your sexual history."
"All in the name of counseling me, right?" he replied with a wink.
"Mostly," I admitted.
"Only if I get to ask you the same."
"If there's time," I agreed. Though I intended to make sure there wasn't. "So when did you lose your virginity?" I began.
"Do you want the exact date?" he smirked.
"Why the hell not." I had to admit, I didn't remember the exact date I'd lost my virginity.
"February 7, 2010. I took a girl upstairs at a Super Bowl party."
"Were you drunk?" I asked. "Or had you been drinking at least?"
"Yeah, I was feeling pretty buzzed. She was kinda the school slut, so I knew she was a sure thing, but I was still scared shitless."
"And then what happened?"
He shrugged. "Everybody knew what we'd been doing, and all the guys congratulated me afterward. I felt… vindicated somehow."
"So, um…"
"Just ask, Bella," he smirked.
"Um… did this become a regular thing for you then? I mean, I may not have believed you when you told me that you drank because you actually like the taste of beer, but I assume you enjoyed sex."
"Not at first," he said quietly. "I mean, yeah, I enjoyed it. But back then my drinking was still pretty much limited to parties. I couldn't really go out and buy beer so I could chat up girls at school until I got myself a fake ID at the end of my sophomore year."
"And once you got the fake ID?" I asked.
"That's when I started to drink a lot more often, whenever I felt like I needed a boost of courage," he explained, picking at a loose thread on the bottom of his t-shirt. "I'd ask girls out when I saw them at the mall, or whatever. I could pretty much have sex on demand with the school sluts, but that wasn't what I wanted.
"I wanted a real relationship with a nice girl, and the girls I'd meet at the mall or the local fast food joints weren't always willing to give it up without going on a few dates first. But I couldn't date without getting buzzed, so most of those relationships didn't even make it to sex before the girls would dump me."
"Because you were drinking too much?"
"Yeah," he admitted shyly.
"And you didn't see that as a warning sign that maybe your drinking was out of control?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.
He shrugged, but remained silent.
"Edward…?" I prompted him.
"I blamed the girls for not knowing how to have a good time."
"Some guys, when they're too drunk, are unable to get erections," I observed. "Did that ever happen to you?"
Edward sat staring at his feet, the tips of his ears turning pink. Finally he nodded. "At the grad party," he whispered.
"Is your father an alcoholic, Edward?" I asked suddenly, realizing he needed a subject change.
Edward's eyes shot up to mine. "What? No."
I nodded. "I asked because alcoholism can be hereditary. Are there any other alcoholics in your family that you know of?"
"My granddad is dead now, but I can remember him always drinking hard liquor after dinner," he admitted. "And my mom's brother is an alcoholic."
"Then there's a good chance it's genetic," I agreed. "I think you're one of the unlucky ones, Edward. The vast majority of teenagers can drink at parties like you did and not develop an addiction.
"You know you can't drink at all once you're released, right? You can't handle it."
"I know," he whispered. "It's not like I craved a drink all the time though, or got drunk every night."
"And that's good, because it means your addiction is more mental than physical. I know Dr. Banner made notes in your file about some mild symptoms of withdrawal when you first arrived, so you do have a physical dependency, but I think the mental part is going be the toughest thing for you once you're out in the world again."
"But you'll help me, right? I mean… we can keep seeing each other once I'm released?"
I sighed heavily, closing my eyes. "Not in a professional capacity, not if we're sexually involved. You'll need to attend AA meetings, of course, and if you feel that you need more counseling, then I'd be happy to recommend someone."
"But I trust you," he whispered.
"And that's great," I said softly, "Because we've made a lot of progress. But I can't be both your lover and your counselor. This is all ethically wrong as it is."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, hanging his head. "I know I'm pushing you do to something against the rules."
"Well, I'm not exactly following the code of professional ethics and saying no to you."
"Do you not want to come to my room tonight?" he asked quietly, seeming to hold his breath waiting for my reply.
"I shouldn't. I'm not sure my body is on board with waiting though."
"So you'll come?"
"I'll come," I nodded.
And with that, Edward was up and out of his seat. He quickly moved to me, helping me to my feet and hugging me close to him. "Thank you," he whispered, before claiming my lips.
We traded soft kisses back and forth for several minutes before Edward finally pulled back, leaning against the desk while he held both of my hands in his. He looked… serene, and I couldn't help smiling at him.
"Did you mean what you said yesterday?" I asked suddenly.
"I don't know," he giggled, "What did I say?"
"You said, 'I think I love you.'"
"Oh. That." I watched as the tips of his ears turned pink again. He was adorable.
"Would you be mad if I said that I think I could fall in love with you?" he asked shyly.
Removing my right hand from his, I cupped his cheek, kissing him softly. "On the contrary. I'd be very flattered."
A/N: "Reason For Living" readers — I updated on Monday when FF was being a bear and not sending out all of the Alerts, if you hadn't noticed the new chapter yet.
