Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight

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Chapter 8 - Avoidance, Apologies, and an Ice Cream Fetish

I have nothing to be jealous over.

We're not dating. We're barely anything at all. And even though we kissed just yesterday, I made it abundantly clear that I don't want to be anything more than friends. And while that rule extends to me, it means that he's allowed to date whoever he wants as well.

Not that they're dating. Not everyone dates every person they smile at.

For fuck's sake, Bella. Get a grip.

Christ.

I try to stop my stalker-like spying. I really do. But I can't help but stare down the hallway until the redhead finally slinks away, saying things to Edward that I can't hear. They may as well have made out right there in middle of the nurses station for all the feelings it stirred inside of me. I'm sure Jessica is having a goddamn field day over witnessing my silent demise.

Edward hands the chart to someone and then turns to walk down the hallway. I immediately disappear inside the nurses station and search for something to do – anything to keep myself occupied while he's here.

I figure now is as good a time as any to check in on all my patients. Without a backwards glance, I sneak away from the nurses station and pray that someone is feeling needy. Preferably, it won't be anything that requires me leaving their room.

I'm in luck. One of my patients wants help going to the bathroom, and she's elderly and slow and breathes like she's just run a marathon by the time we make it back to the bed.

"Looks like I just got some good exercise," she jokes happily, and I force a smile in response. I'm a little too preoccupied to express my joy over our successful ten-foot bathroom expedition right now.

More than anything, I'm bothered that I'm so bothered by this.

I decide to go to the bathroom myself. Maybe I can hang out there for a while and blame stomach cramps or something. I just don't feel like talking to Edward anymore. Not right now at least.

I have to pass the nurses station on my way, and I see him out of the corner of my eye. I don't make eye contact. I pretend that I don't know he's even there.

I realize how awful I'm acting, but it doesn't stop me.

I procrastinate for as long as I can in the bathroom. I eventually leave when someone pounds on the door a second time. It's Shelly, and I smile apologetically as we pass each other.

Edward is still at the nurses station when I return. It's possible he's waiting on me – something I didn't even think to consider before – and his eyes immediately meet mine as he smiles, a small crease of concern between his brows.

I am so fucked.

I finally approach him, conceding that I can't avoid him forever. I feel nervous. Tense. My palms are even sweating a little.

I sit across from him, forcing a smile, and try to appear nonchalant. "Hey," I say casually.

"Hey," he replies, his brows immediately pulling into a frown. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Another forced smile. Edward isn't convinced.

"If you say so."

"How's your day been?" I ask, quickly changing the subject. "Not extremely busy, I hope?"

"Not too bad. I still have three more floors to round on. I'm hoping to get out at least by three."

"Well good luck," I say sincerely. I may not be extremely happy with our circumstance – with the way I'm feeling – but I know he's likely still tired and in need of sleep. He doesn't look much more well rested than he did yesterday.

"Thank you." He gives me a sincere, crooked smile, and I feel like shit. That's the only way to describe this…whatever it is.

Pure shit.

And I'm reminded exactly why I wanted to remain single for a while.

-x-x-

"Be careful, Dad. If you want to just leave it in the truck I can call someone to come help us bring it up."

"Don't be ridiculous, Bella. I may be old, but I'm not disabled. I can carry light furniture up a few stairs."

"It's a lot of stairs and it's not that light. And you know your back has been bad every since that car accident."

My father narrows his eyes at me, one side of his mustache twitching. It's possible he's trying to hide a smile, though with a hidden upper lip it's sometimes hard to tell.

"Don't you worry about my back, Bella. You let me worry about my back."

My dad is here today to drop off a dining room table that he received from a friend. I assured him a table wasn't necessary – I usually just veg out on the sofa in front of the TV – but he insisted that you can't have a proper home without one. And who was I to argue?

"At least let me help," I insist, grabbing one edge of the table in preparation.

"Well of course you're gonna help. You didn't think you'd just stand there looking pretty while your old man did all the work, did you?"

He winks at me, and we heft the table off the ground and up the stairs. It's a slow process, with lots of muttered curse words and shouted instructions on his part, but eventually we make it inside the building, down the hallway, and into my apartment.

We have to go back for the chairs, but I insist on bringing them on the elevator. With everything set up, I stand back and examine my new piece. It's painted white and clashes horribly with my other mismatched decor, and it also looks like the leg on one of the chairs was chewed by a dog or something. But I suppose that's the price you pay when nearly all of your furniture is used and passed down from old friends.

"See?" My dad pats the table. "Now you have a proper place to eat."

I hold back a snort, because there's no way I'll ever eat here. But I suppose it'll be a good place to store some crap. Maybe I can put a filing cabinet underneath and make an office desk out of it.

"Yeah, Dad. It looks great." I give him a heartfelt smile, letting him know I truly appreciate the gesture.

"You hungry?" he asks me.

"Starving."

"Good. You can buy me some lunch."

-x-x-

We decide to eat at a deli, and the best part is that it has great desserts and coffee. We both order turkey sandwiches and then split a giant cookie, each of us indulging in a hot cup of joe. My father is certainly where I get my taste for coffee from – he drinks about five cups a day and still doesn't have a bit of trouble sleeping at night. I usually only drink one cup in the morning and maybe another later on if I need a pick-me-up, but I won't be surprised if I become a regular addict one day. I already get minor headaches if I try to skip my daily indulgence.

We talk about nothing in particular. Dad comments on how it's such a nuisance to drive in Seattle – it's far too busy compared to his quiet hometown of Forks. He also asks me if I've made any friends and wants to know how my job is going. I answer him truthfully each time.

"You been talking to any more boys yet?" He looks at me, quirking an eyebrow, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"I don't know what you mean. I'm talking to you right now," I answer lamely, just being a smart-ass.

He knows what I'm doing and calls me on my bullshit right away. "I'm no boy, Bella," he informs me, matter-of-fact. "I'm your old man. And you know damn well what I mean."

I shake my head, my mouth full of cookie. Of course my mind is on Edward again, and stuffing my face with his preferred dessert isn't helping matters. But at least it's not a chocolate caramel-chunk cookie, though that does sound exceptionally delicious right now.

I swallow before answering. "Not really," I say.

"Mmm hmmm." He drinks his coffee, and I think his response sounds kind of cryptic.

"'Mmm hmmm' what?" I ask.

"Nothing. You're just a beautiful young girl, and I know lots of boys must be trying to talk to you."

"Don't talk crazy, Dad. Men aren't flocking to my doorstep or anything. This isn't Animal Kingdom."

"I know that, Bella. But I just worry about you. You're living in a big city by yourself. You were with that one boy a long time."

"Yeah, and now I've never been better," I assure him. This is somewhat true – I've been marginally happier since ridding myself of the drama associated with Alec, though constantly thinking of Edward is putting me on the verge of insanity.

"That may be. You don't need to rush into things with another boy anyway. Lord knows you're young. Your mother may disagree – I'm sure she'll be harping on you for grandbabies soon enough – but I think twenty-six is too young to be getting married. That's the problem with a lot of couples today – they get married before they have a chance to experience their life and then they're unhappy and they get a divorce. Just look at your mother, for example."

I want to disagree where my mother is concerned, but I don't dare. However, she did stay married to my dad for thirteen years. That's practically a lifetime for her.

"Well, Alec and I weren't talking about getting married. So it doesn't matter," I say, my interest on my cookie again. I'm tearing it into tiny pieces and eating them one by one.

Truthfully, that was one of the many problems when it came to Alec. We never talked about getting married.

Five years together and no talk of marriage. That's a red flag if I've ever seen one.

"That's good. He wasn't good for ya," my father grunts. "A man who can't keep it in his pants isn't good for society, much less my baby girl."

Oh dear God. Please tell me my father didn't just refer to Alec's "it."

"I know Dad. Trust me," I say, hoping to placate him so we can get off this God-forsaken subject.

But he goes on. "You should get yourself an older boy next time," he says. "They're more mature and ready to settle down. They're not unpredictable the way the youngins are."

Alec was older than me, but only by two years. Edward has to at least be in his thirties. Then again, I'm not sure why I'm even considering Edward's age, seeing as how I've been ignoring his texts ever since his encounter with the redhead. I finally just decided that I should stop talking to him for a while, because I'm obviously getting too attached. This jealousy business opened my eyes to exactly how much I like him, and I think it's best to just step back for now.

Not that completely ignoring him was the best way to go about it, but if we start texting, then I'll probably give in and keep talking to him. I'll probably even let him kiss me again, come to think of it, and that's exactly what I don't want happening.

My dad finishes his coffee and waves the server over for a refill. He can tell my thoughts are elsewhere, I'm sure, but he doesn't comment on it.

He sets his fresh cup down and looks at me.

"So…when are you gonna come visit your old man?"

-x-x-

My dad comes upstairs for a few minutes, but leaves just a little after four o'clock so that he can beat the Seattle traffic and make it home at a decent time for bed. I watch TV for a little while and then check the fridge for something to snack on. But I have nothing.

I go to the grocery store and shop slowly, buying a few things that I can fix to eat at home. I normally eat easy things like sandwiches or soup or else I just order out. Cooking just for myself is too much trouble.

My phone rings while I'm shopping. It's Edward, and I still don't answer. I feel a little guilty as I put my phone on silent and stash it inside my purse.

I come across the freezer section and pick out four different flavored pints of Ben & Jerry's. I'm not planning on crying and eating my weight in chocolate or anything, but one of my life goals is to try every flavor before I die. I figure I might as well get a head start in case something happens.

After I've made my purchases and loaded everything into my car, I check my phone again. Edward has texted me.

Are you ignoring me?

I guess nothing gets past him – not that I'm not being painfully obvious or anything. I'm either ignoring him or I've fallen off of the earth.

I feel like shit again. I should just talk to him and explain how I'm feeling rather than acting like the petulant child I've become. Though truthfully, I didn't really think he'd continue to try and contact me the way he has. I figured he'd take a hint early on and decide I'm not worth the trouble.

I slide onto the driver's seat and debate texting him back. Finally, I decide I'll just call him when I get home and slip my car into reverse, slowly pulling away from the store.

I have music playing inside my car, but I don't hear a single word. My thoughts are plagued with what I plan to tell Edward. I even develop a strategy in case he tries to woo me again, and this ends up being very thought-consuming.

At my apartment, I unload my car, determined to get it all in one go. My arms are pulled straight to my sides with the heavy bags as I head towards the front of the building, my fingers feeling like they're going to rip from their sockets with the weight. I look down at the plastic bags, struggling to get a better grip, and when I raise my eyes again, I'm immediately met with a set of bright green.

Edward is sitting on the steps outside the building. Edward, still in his scrubs – no lab coat – with his hair a mess, his eyes tired. He stands immediately, rushing forward to help me with my bags, and all I can do is stare at him.

"What are you doing here?" I finally ask as he removes the weight from my fingers. The sight of him along with the rush of blood to my fingertips brings sweet relief; I've never been so simultaneously happy and afraid.

He sighs and says, "I'm trying to find out what's going on with you." His tone isn't hard, but it cuts me just the same.

"Nothing's going on with me," I reply, keeping my voice casual. "And I can get those." I gesture towards my bags, but he already has them in his hands and doesn't move to give them back.

"I've got them," he says shortly.

We begin walking towards the entrance of the building.

"So you're not ignoring me?" he asks skeptically, and he already knows the answer. I blush a little and wish I would have just called him on my way home. Then I would have some type of defense, however lame it may be.

"It's complicated," I tell him. "You probably won't even understand."

"Try me."

"There's no rule that says I have to return all your phone calls, you know. We're not dating."

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell I've hurt his feelings. His brow furrows and his lips purse. I wish I wouldn't have said anything.

"Yeah, well it's a pretty shitty thing to do, Bella," he says, exasperated, and I hit the button to call the elevator. "If you decide you don't want to talk to me anymore I'd at least like a little notice or a reason why. I mean one day you're kissing me and the next you won't even talk to me."

"You kissed me," I remind him.

"And you kissed me back. I've never forced myself on you," he responds indignantly.

His voice carries across the lobby, and man coming off the stairs turns to gape at us as he passes. Edward and I quiet down for just a moment.

Luckily, the doors to the elevator part and we quickly step inside. We're the only people in the tiny space and the tension is thick as we begin to rise.

"So are you going to tell me what this is about?" he asks again, his voice calm.

"It's nothing. I'm not upset about anything," I lie. Well, technically I'm lying, I guess. I'm not necessarily upset with Edward for talking to his ex – he's allowed to talk to whoever he wants – but I'm upset over the way I feel about it.

"You're lying," he says simply, and I'm caught off guard. Am I really that transparent?

"No I'm not," I lie again.

"Alice said you saw me with Victoria."

"Who's Victoria?" I ask snidely, and then I quickly get myself in check and try to take the edge out of my voice. Edward casts me a look.

"Dr. Ellis. Sorry."

Hearing Edward refer to her by her first name does nothing to abate that feeling I have. If anything, it makes it a hundred times worse.

"So? I mean yeah, I saw you together. Why would that bother me?" I'm not sure if my voice is coming out as assured and collected as I'm hoping it to be. The elevator doors open and we step out.

"You're a terrible liar, Bella."

Damn it.

"I'm not lying."

"You know, I really don't get you," he says, irritated. I quickly unlock the door with my key and push it open, admitting us both inside. "You say you don't want to be more than friends right now, which is fine. I keep hoping you'll change your mind about it, but I understand if you have your reasons for not wanting to get involved right now." He sets the bags on my new table and all but glares at me, and I realize I don't like angry Edward very much at all. "What I don't get is why you would completely stop talking to me simply because I spoke to a female coworker. Especially since you insist on being 'just friends.'"

His words hit me a lot harder than I thought they would, and suddenly I can feel my throat burning as tears threaten to surface. He's right, of course; I'm being an asshole and my actions certainly aren't fair to him.

And what's worse is that I don't want to make him upset. I don't want to make him angry. And yet here I am, doing both of those things simply because I'm confused over our new situation and the things I'm feeling.

I turn away from him and stand there a moment, trying to fight back the tears. I never meant to become so emotional, and the last thing I want is for Edward to think I'm trying to guilt him with another of my many mood swings. I can sense his presence behind me, and after a few seconds pass, he places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Bella, look at me," he says softly, any trace of anger suddenly gone from his voice. I blink rapidly before turning around, hoping to clear my face of this overwhelming emotion I'm suddenly feeling.

But Edward sees everything. He reaches forward to brush my cheek with his thumb, sighing quietly. "I'm not trying to upset you, Bella," he says gently. "I just can't figure out what the hell you're thinking."

I shake my head, slowly casting my eyes to the floor. "I don't know what I'm thinking either," I finally admit.

"Well…at least I'm not the only one," he jokes lightly.

I managed to keep the tears at bay, but my nose is beginning to run a little. I try to refrain from sniffing so that I don't broadcast the confused, emotional mess I really am.

"You said you liked me the other day," he continues, and his hand is still near my face, his thumb still grazing my skin. "You may not have known what you were getting yourself into at the time, but I'll have you know I took you seriously. You'll have a hell of a time getting rid of me now."

His tone is light, almost joking, but the words stir something deep inside of me and I find myself raising my eyes to meet his piercing gaze.

"I'm sorry I ignored you," I say sincerely. I wipe my nose, trying to muffle the sniffle behind my hand. "And I do like you. That's why everything is so confusing to me right now."

His body is close to mine. Just a few inches separate our chests.

"Why is it confusing?"

"I just got out of a very long, stressful relationship, Edward. That's why."

"Will you tell me about it?" he asks, and I sigh, finally stepping away from him so that I can begin putting away my groceries. I probably have four pints of different flavored melted goo by now.

"What do you want to know?" I ask. I figure, all things considered, I at least owe him this much.

"How long did you date?" Edward begins unloading the bags onto the table. He's trying to help, and things suddenly feel a little lighter between us.

"A little over five years," I answer.

"Why did you break up?"

"He cheated on me."

Edward's eyes meet mine, a loaf of bread in his hand. "Then that guy's a fucking idiot. You realize that, right?"

I snort, though it's really not that funny. I take the bread from Edward's hand so that I can put it away. "That's sweet of you, Edward. But trust me, things weren't that great between us for a while. It's not really that much of a surprise."

"Then he didn't try hard enough," Edward says simply.

"You hardly know me, Edward," I counter, keeping my voice light. Sure, we've gone out and kissed a few times, but we still haven't known each other long.

I turn around to find him unloading my ice cream from a bag, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"I know you have some kind of weird Ben & Jerry fetish," he jokes, cracking a smile. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out of pure mortification at the situation.

"That's not what it looks like," I say, sounding exactly like some sort of addict as I take the cartons from him. I juggle all four in my hands and struggle to open the freezer. "These have a purpose. I'm gonna try every flavor before I die," I explain.

Edward whistles. "Wow. You're a little young to be starting a bucket list though, don't you think?"

"Now seems like a good a time as any. And it's not like eating every flavor will be torture."

"Fair enough."

"Did you have any more questions concerning my sad, sordid love life?"

"Actually, yes. How serious were you guys?" Edward looks at me, patient but expectant.

"What do you mean?"

"Were you engaged? Living together?"

"We lived together, yes. We weren't engaged. We didn't really talk about getting married."

Edward hums to himself, but doesn't say more. The groceries are almost completely put away, and we complete the remaining task in silence.

When we finish, I lean against the counter. Edward walks over and joins me, his shoulder nearly touching mine.

"Will you tell me about Dr. Ellis?" I ask him, my voice hesitant. I'm not really worried about his reaction, but I felt like I owed him my explanation regarding Alec. He, on the other hand, doesn't really owe me anything. He didn't act like a total douche for a day and a half.

"Sure," he says, turning his face to mine. His green eyes are sincere, his face passive. I want to close the small gap of space between us and snuggle against him, but I feel like that would be counterproductive right now.

"Did you guys date?" I ask.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Around a year. And then we were on and off again for a few months."

"Are you still friends?"

"We don't hang out after work or anything, if that's what you mean," he answers. "But yes, we talk to each other at work. We're civil."

I nod thoughtfully. That's a perfectly acceptable explanation, though I still dislike the image of her touching him, however casual those touches may be.

"Why did you break up?" I go on.

"It just didn't work out."

"Then who broke up with whom?"

"I broke up with her."

"Did you live together?"

"No. But we stayed at each other's place most of the time."

I realize I don't like the idea of him staying at her place, or she at his, but I guess it's not really any of my business whether or not I like it. It's in the past, anyway. And though this information bothers me, Edward is being nothing but honest.

I shift against the counter and look down at my feet.

"I'm sorry I ignored you," I say again.

"You already apologized," he points out.

"I know. But you're right, it was a really shitty thing to do. I should have just talked to you and told you I needed some space."

Edward looks at me, his eyes searching my face. "Do you still want some space?" he asks hesitantly, and I can tell he doesn't want me to make him leave. And though I should say yes, and push him out the door, I just can't make myself form the words.

"I don't…I don't want you to go," I finally answer, because it's the only truth that makes any sense. Edward nods slightly, then lifts his arm, an invitation to move closer.

"Come here," he says, and I'm moving closer to him before I can think over this decision, practically melting against his body as he pulls me into his arms. My nose presses directly into his chest, and he smells like the hospital and faded soap.

Everything feels better here. His lips press against my forehead, and I hear him breathe me in as his chest expands and falls. I don't want to move away. I want to stop thinking, to get lost in this moment.

"I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for," he murmurs against my skin. "You'd just resent me in the long run, wondering if things would be different had I let you do things at your own pace. I get that, I really do. We can be friends for a while, if that's what you want."

I'm surprised by these words. The pull in my chest tightens, and I press against him just a little more firmly.

"Does that mean no more kissing?" I ask, my voice somewhat muffled against his chest. The question is meant to be a joke, but it doesn't really come out that way.

I feel Edward's lips pull into a smile against my forehead.

"You know I'm all for the kissing," he replies, his voice teasing.

"Kissing you is probably a bad idea," I muse, my voice teasing.

"Why is that?"

"You know why."

"Mmm. Maybe I need a reminder," he teases, and I lift my head to playfully scowl at him.

As much as I want to lean forward and kiss him right now, I refrain. Because I'm right, for once. Kissing him only increases the pull in my chest. It only makes me think of him more often.

And I have something more serious to discuss, though forming the words is almost painful. But they need to be said, because it's a problem that could cause a greater rift between us if we're not sure exactly where we stand with each other.

It's time to lay all our cards on the table. And I need to just rip off the bandaid.

Unable to think of more metaphors in which to stall the discussion, I spit it out. "What about dating…you know…other people?" I ask him.

His teasing smile falters, and it's the exact expression I dreaded seeing. I'm probably hurting his feelings all over again. "Are you going to?"

"That's half the point of staying single, isn't it?" I ask. "If I'm not allowed to date then it's like I'm in a relationship…"

"You can date," he interrupts me. "You can do whatever you want, Bella. It's not like you have any sort of obligations to me."

He smiles, but it's clearly forced. And his words bother me more than they should.

But I need to do this for myself. I need to see what else is out there. I don't want to be an old woman who ponders her life and wonders if things would be different had I not rushed everything all the time.

"You can see other people too," I quickly say, but the words are like acid on my tongue. They're wrong. All wrong.

"Right," he says with a nod. "I know."

I rest my head against his chest again, reveling in the warmth and hardness of his body. I don't want the moment to end. Despite our conversation about seeing other people, I don't want to let him go.

And I don't want that skanky Dr. Ellis getting her claws into him again. Yet it's not exactly reasonable to ask him to wait on me.

I imagine what that conversation would be like.

"Oh Edward, please just sit back and watch from afar while I hold hands with and kiss other boys. You, on the other hand, must drive your celibacy-wagoned ass to work everyday. No pootang for you until I decide I'm ready. Sound good, darling?"

I sigh against his chest. If only.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" I eventually ask him. My irrational side is hoping we can cuddle on the couch some more. It's wrong, but I can't seem to help myself.

He hesitates, and then finally releases me. "Sure," he says.

"Okay. Umm…you can have some of my Ben & Jerry's if you want," I tell him. "I don't mind you helping me complete my bucket list." Edward just smiles. "Or do you want something to drink? I have Kool-Aid," I offer. "Or…water."

Edward's smile morphs into a small grin. "Your really good Kool-Aid?" he asks me, recalling my earlier assurance.

"Of course."

"I'm fine right now. Thank you, though."

"Okay. Do you mind if I go change then? You can pick out a movie while you wait. Make yourself comfortable on the couch."

"Sure."

I go to my bedroom, picking out some modest and comfortable pajama clothes. I wish I had something to offer Edward besides his scrubs, but at least they're not overly uncomfortable. I get changed and go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I don't plan on kissing him, but I'm still more comfortable when my breath is fresh.

It's irrational of me to do so, considering he just saw me five minutes ago, but I end up fussing over my hair for a moment and then debate on whether or not to wear a bra. The tank top I have on has a built-in bra, but sometimes my nipples are visible beneath the fabric. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to put on a show right after the conversation we just had. In fact, it would probably be wise if I wore a bulky sweater.

So a bra it is.

With everything tucked and adequately covered, I make my way back into the living room, pausing when I find Edward already dozing on the couch. He's still sitting up, his elbow propped on the armrest and his head propped in his hand, and doesn't stir at my approach.

I look at the clock on the wall, trying to gauge how long I was gone for. I think only about ten minutes.

The long hours at work must have finally caught up to him.

I bite my lip, trying to decide whether or not to wake him. His face is relaxed, his shoulders slumped. He's gorgeous even in his sleep, and I find myself wishing I could crawl into his lap and curl up with him.

I don't know if my resolve to stay single is going to work out, but I think I like Edward even more for giving me the opportunity to try.

I grab a book and sit down in the armchair to read. Edward sleeps soundly, only stirring once to get into a more comfortable position. After watching him a moment, I rise from my seat to make a sandwich. He never wakes, even after all the noise I make.

I eat quickly, then move over to Edward and coax him into a better position. I try to ignore the way I feel when I touch him – the way I feel when he sighs - and with enough prompting, he slides down on the couch until he's lying. I pull off his shoes and get a cover from the closet to throw over him.

I kneel in front of him and sigh deeply, my eyes raking over each little detail of his face – the sharpness of his jaw, his eyelashes, his cheekbones, his dark eyebrows and defined lips.

I look at him, and I wonder if I'm really making the right decision.


A/N: *Sigh* Silly Bella...

Special thanks to the fantastic duo ms-ambrosia and passionmama for all their work with this story.

A lot of people are asking me if Milky Way coffee is real. Let me assure you, my sweets, it is VERY REAL and muchos delicious. It's actually a Flavia flavor pack, and works the way I described in the story. And I actually really tried it at the doctor's lounge where I work. Damn, spoiled doctors ;) Here is a link to the flavor pack if ya wanna see, and it looks like they even make Dove flavors (yum!): www(dot)nutmegstatecoffee(dot)com(slash)products(dot)asp?cat=25

Next update will probably be at least two weeks from now. Sorry, I have a lot going on this week and doubt I'll have time to write. But I'll keep you posted on twitter if you follow. Also, I'm still working on the outline, but will hopefully be done by the next time I update.

I'm also planning on writing another EPOV outtake soon. Anything in particular you guys want to see?

I'm mybluesky1 on twitter. Thanks so much for all the reviews. I love you guys lots...

xoxo