Chapter 9

Bella was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. This was problematic because her day – from beginning to end – had truly been taxing. She kept playing Edward's words over and over in her mind. Not just his words, but his actions, as well.

Had he really done all those things?

Had he really said those words?

She knew that he had, of course. She knew it because it was all there, tattooed in her memory. A memory that now contained the feeling of him holding her hand, the way his lips felt pressing against hers, the way he tasted…the rigid heat of his erection against her palm.

Jesus.

That actually happened.

She died a little at the thought.

But there was something else there, as well. A pulsing between her legs she'd never known. Bella had been aroused before. Usually from something she'd read, or particular scenes from movies she watched over the years. Arousal wasn't new to her, but being aroused from something happening to her in her actual life was another thing entirely.

It was terrifying.

However, as terrifying as it was, the fact that Edward made sure she knew he was feeling the same way had turned all of her alarm into something else.

Something glorious.

He'd gone just an hour before. There'd been no additional touching or kisses. No, he'd left her with nothing but the knowledge that he wanted more. He used that word.

More.

As if she could even imagine what more might entail. But in the privacy of her bedroom, she allowed herself to think about what it might look like. She thought about him saying he would see her in the morning, adding that he wouldn't tell her not to be nervous. He'd been so sincere when he said it, which made her heart stutter and beat as if trying to find a different rhythm than the one it had known all her life. And as they stood at her front door, Edward made her promise that even if she was nervous, she wouldn't avoid him.

She made that promise.

And Bella Swan always kept her word.

When she walked out of the elevator into the lobby the next morning, she found his eyes immediately. He looked all sharp and crisp in his uniform, and she didn't think she'd ever seen anyone so handsome. He didn't say a word as she approached, and the silence between them was weighted with everything that had transpired the night before, the air charged with the same electricity. And even though Bella was nervous, she found that she wanted to approach him instead of quickly walking out the door as she'd done so many mornings before.

She clutched her messenger bag until her fingers hurt. As if it was the only tangible thing indicating all this was real and not some dream.

"Good morning," she said softly.

"Good morning, Bella," he said, his tone matching her own. "You look tired."

She didn't even feel the need to be embarrassed because it was probably really true. She was tired, even if she felt more awake than ever. But he seemed to realize what he said, adding, "Damn – shit, I mean…." He ran his hand through his hair that was more unruly than usual. And it was something to watch this man who made her so nervous to actually look and sound nervous himself. She wanted to smile. She may have just a little. "Can I start over?" he asked.

But Bella didn't want him to start over.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I am a little tired."

"Me too," he said, a slightly crooked smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "But what I meant to say was that you look really pretty."

Bella's face flamed at his words, and she realized something pretty fundamental about herself in that moment – she didn't like compliments. She hadn't had much experience with them before this, but she couldn't imagine she would ever like them, or get used to the uncomfortable way they made her feel.

"Umm…thanks," she mumbled, biting down on her bottom lip. Unable to maintain eye contact, she glanced over to the table in the corner of the lobby.

"Hey," he said, pulling her attention back to him. "I mean it."

"I look the same way I always do."

"And I always think it," he said. "I thought we covered this already."

He reached out for just a second like he wanted to touch her, but he dropped has hand quickly, as if he thought better of it. And that made her feel even more self-conscious because, she realized, she did want him to touch her again. Even if the idea that he might want to was still terrifying to her.

"I probably shouldn't do that here," he said, looking around the lobby. "I mean, I'm working."

"That's not… I mean," she stumbled over the words clumsily. "It's okay. You're right, of course."

"But I want to." He said the words with such honest intensity, she could hardly deny them. "So, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to…I don't know…go to dinner with me tonight or something?"

"Like, out?" she asked. "At a restaurant?"

"Yeah," he said. "Out…you know, on a date."

Her heart pounded recklessly in her chest, as if it had little concern that the endless beating thumps made it difficult for her to breathe.

"I don't…I don't know," she managed to get the words out.

"I just thought that after last night," he trailed off, his expression crestfallen. And she didn't want to be the person who made him look like that.

"I just, I don't do so well in public places," she admitted, wondering when he was going to realize she was too much, had too many issues to make all of this worth it. "All the people…"

"We could go somewhere quiet," he suggested.

"I cook," she blurted out too quickly. "I mean…I mean I can make us dinner if you…wanted to come over again."

His smile was warm. "I don't want you to cook on our first date."

"I don't mind."

"The cooking or the date?"

"Either."

"How about this," he said, his smile wider than it was before. Bella liked when he smiled like that. It made her want to smile the same way in return. And it was possible she did. "What if I come over around seven-thirty with takeout? That way, you don't have to cook."

"I don't mind cooking."

"Well, then you can cook for our second date," he said. "If you want."

"Okay."

"Did you just agree to a second date with me?"

Was he flirting?

Is this what flirting was like?

Bella realized she didn't know how to flirt. She didn't even know if that's what was actually happening.

"Maybe," she said, her face flaming. "I mean, I think so. That is…if you still want a second date after tonight. You… I don't know. You might not."

"I will," he said solemnly.

And she believed him.

"Okay."

"See you tonight, Bella."

"See you tonight, Edward."

She walked out of her building and made her way to work, and even though she kept her head down the same way she did every day, her mind was filled with thoughts of more with Edward.

.

.

Edward was relieved by how well the morning had gone. He wasn't sure what to expect, especially given everything that happened the morning before. But he was hopeful, considering everything that went down between the two of them the previous night.

He'd gone home, hard as fuck, and took care of that shit in the shower. All while remembering how she'd felt against him, how she tasted. And it was those memories that made him come on his own stomach like a teenager who'd never been with a woman. But that was what Bella made him feel like. He'd never been with someone so responsive, and while that was hot as hell, he was goddamn sure that Bella didn't know what do with her own reaction. So, she sure as hell wasn't ready for his.

Because now that he knew how sweet Bella's mouth was, he wanted to taste every inch of her. He wanted to hear the sounds she'd make when he licked her pussy, and if they were anything like the sounds he made when he kissed her – Edward was done for.

By the time his shift was nearly over, he was more worked up than he wanted to be. It wasn't just nerves about their date, but it was also the very idea that it was a date. He'd thought about her all day, wondering if she was doing the same. He just hoped that with her anxiety, she hadn't spent the whole day panicking over what might happen. The line he was balancing was narrow as fuck. He wanted her – wanted to be with her – but he didn't want to cause her any unnecessary stress. And Edward wasn't sure how he was going to manage it. He figured the best place to start was by making her feel as comfortable and relaxed as possible.

It wasn't like he could bring over a bottle of wine with dinner. She'd told him she didn't drink. And then he realized he didn't even know what kind of food she liked. He couldn't believe he hadn't even asked. He'd just been so goddamn excited she'd agreed to the date at all.

Fuck.

He couldn't ever remember being this worried about something as simple as a date. And just that thought made him feel guilty because, in all probability, none of this would be simple for Bella.

When six o'clock rolled around, she still hadn't made it back to the building. He considered staying until she got there, but he realized he only had an hour and a half to go home to change and pick up dinner. He willfully ignored the nagging feeling that something was wrong with her delay, cursing himself for still not knowing her fucking phone number or even where she worked, and he headed out.

She'd be there when he returned.

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.

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A/N

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