July 9, 1952

"Day seven in Cullen territory," I said as Esme set a plate of food in front of me. "Subjects have been feeding me three times a day. Suspicion is high. Appetite is great. Food is great."

"Subjects are disgusted by human food," Emmett muttered, eyeing the scrambled eggs with distaste.

"Subjects used to eat this stuff," I reminded him through a mouthful. "We all gotta eat, gramps."

"What about a nice, juicy bear?" He rubbed his belly. "Delicious."

"You just went hunting."

Edward's terse voice drifted in from the living room. He had been nose deep in a book, as was his custom for the past week. That, combined with his bad attitude, was really starting to wear.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Unclench, Edward, you're driving all of us crazy."

I flinched at the slam of the front door. "He is okay?"

Esme stared after him. I saw she was clutching the dish towel tightly. "I'm sure it's nothing."

I let my eyes fall to my plate. I wasn't hungry anymore.

It didn't seem like nothing. Edward was in a good mood a week ago. That is, until he found me snooping. From that point on he was cold, both to me and everyone else.

I wanted to confront him about it. This passive aggression was affecting the entire house.

It took an hour for me to work up the courage. When I finally went outside, my stomach was twisted in knots.

I didn't have to look far. Edward was sitting at the edge of the property. He was still reading. He didn't look up or even acknowledge my approach, though he definitely heard me walking over. I bit my lip, wondering what to say.

Everyone had been walking on eggshells around him. I didn't like the hostility, especially because I enjoyed his company so much. My continued presence here—the longest since Chicago—was very new to me. Every moment was precious.

I didn't want to waste any more of them wondering if he was going to pull the stick out of his ass.

"What's your problem?"

"Excuse me?"

I got the sense no one talked to Edward like that. Sure, Emmett teased him. Rosalie bickered with him. But no one seemed to directly call him out on his shit.

Well, I was happy to be first in line.

"You're acting like a mega jerk. What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," he said coolly, closing the book. "I'm going hunting."

I watched, my jaw dropping open, as he sped off into the trees. Fine. I stomped to the front porch and sat there, fuming.

Rosalie sat down with me, an umbrella in her hands. "Trouble in paradise?"

"No," I said, glaring. "He's being annoying and I tried to set him straight. Did you hear the way he talked to Emmett?"

"Oh," she laughed. "You don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Come on, let's get some food for the house. I'll explain later."

Rosalie wouldn't budge until we were in town. She held up things for my approval, ignoring my impatience. Finally, when we packed up the car, she sighed heavily.

"I really hoped he would tell you this himself, but . . . Edward likes you."

"What?" I sputtered. "Have you seen how rude he's been to me all week?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you two were in grade school, he'd be pulling at your pigtails."

He had pulled on my braid once when I told him it was time for bed . . . I shook my head quickly. That was an entirely different thing.

"Well . . . it would never work."

"Why not?"

I threw my hands up helplessly. "Rosalie, I time travel. I'm not exactly girlfriend material."

"He's immortal," Rosalie reminded me. "He could wait years for you. He already has."

When I didn't reply, she chuckled. "It is a truth universally acknowledged . . . that Edward Cullen has a crush on you."

We both heard my heartbeat pick up. I sat there for a moment, digesting what I just heard.

"We don't even know for sure," I mumbled.

"You could find out," she offered. "If I float the idea in my head . . . cloud this conversation and plant a false one there."

"You can do that?"

"Sure," she nodded. "We all do it. It's intrusive to know he can hear my every thought."

Her face darkened and I wondered what thoughts she wished to hide. I almost shivered. If her eyes were any indication, it was something terrible. I put my hand over hers. She squeezed mine gently, then moved to start the car.

We were in the living room when Edward returned. His eyes were lighter, but the sour expression indicated his mood had not changed. I waited six minutes before I announced I was going for a walk. Without looking up from her magazine, Rosalie told Edward to go with me.

"Why?"

"The wireless said there was a burglar in the loose. Someone should go with her for safety."

"I really don't need—"

"Walk in the woods, it's getting sunny again," she said, flipping the page. "Don't let her get burnt, Edward."

Her tone left us with no choice. Edward held the door open, but his eyes were fixed on Rosalie. He looked puzzled. She must have been doing everything possible to keep him out of her head. It seemed to be working. I shot her a dirty look at this hasty plan. She only smiled sweetly at me and made a shooing gesture.

This was not going to work.

Fifteen minutes had gone by in silence. No words were exchanged between us. The only thing this venture accomplished was getting me to sweat. Profusely. It was embarrassing and I felt myself losing my nerve.

It didn't help that he was sparkling again. A sight so fantastic that I couldn't tear my eyes away from. But then I would remember my anxiety and continued on my way.

"This is stupid," he muttered at last. "A burglar wouldn't attack anyone in broad daylight."

"Whatever."

I felt his eyes on my back. I imagined him trying to read my mind and failing. Again. I felt smug that my thoughts were safe.

"It's not so easy, is it?"

"What?"

"Not knowing what I'm going to say."

"I don't need telepathy to talk to you," he scoffed.

Obviously, I wanted to sneer. Since it's going so well for you right now.

"Okay," I said finally. "That's enough."

He stood watching as I folded my arms and scowled. "Why are you acting so rude? Is it something I did?"

Pain shot across his face. "You didn't do anything."

"Then what's the problem?" I asked, suddenly desperate. "Everyone's so worried. I know I'm not around much, but . . . you can talk to me. We're friends, right?"

"Right." His smile looked strangely sharp.

"Then let's talk about it," I said, sinking to the ground and crossing my legs. He did the same. I waited for him to speak but he did not. Clearly he was going to need some encouragement. I sighed.

"You don't like talking about yourself, huh?"

His answering smile was almost embarrassed. "Not really."

"How come?"

"I suppose it's because of my gift. With all those thoughts swirling around my head . . . it's hard to think for myself sometimes."

I let my eyes linger on his face. Was it so far out of the realm of possibility that Rosalie was right? I could almost imagine her whispering in my ear. Pushing me toward him.

"Rosalie thinks that you . . . " I forced myself to say the words. "She thinks that you, um, like me?"

It sounded like a question. But soon I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The words were out and I could not take them back.

I watched, astonished, as he nodded his head once. Twice.

"I do," he whispered. "I have . . . for a long time."

The hope that bloomed this morning grew to a swell. We had private moments and lingering glances, but I was always prepared for the situation that he would not returned my feelings. That was expected. I almost convinced myself that outcome was more than likely. I prepared for the disappointment of my unrequited feelings.

But I was never prepared for him sharing mine.

My eyes widened. "Really?"

Edward tilted his head. "You sound surprised."

"I am," I blurted out. "I mean, you're you. Amazing. And I'm just . . . a freak."

"Extraordinary," he corrected. Then, hesitantly, he reached out to stroke my cheek.

I leaned into the touch, a sigh whistling through my lips. His eyes went to them for a moment before he frowned.

"Forgive my rudeness, Bella. Again."

"I'm good at it now," I grinned. "Forgive my . . . name calling."

"I deserved it. My mother would have been outraged."

I imagined that scenario and giggled. Their heights would be drastically different now, but I could easily see Elizabeth pointing her finger in his face and scolding.

"I can't believe I spent an entire week being a dolt," Edward groaned. "I can't afford to waste a moment with you."

My smile faded. "Seven years is a long time."

"What's the matter?"

"It just don't seem fair to you," I said quietly. "You might wait a long time for me to come back."

His hand moved to my cheek again. I held still, transfixed. Even the simple task of breathing became difficult.

"I'm immortal," he told me. "I can wait years, if that's what it takes."

"But—"

"I met you when I was seven years old," he said, pressing a finger to my lips. "That was decades ago and I'm still here."

I pulled at his hand. "But to make you wait for me . . . that just seems selfish."

"Isn't it time for you to be selfish? After years of dealing with a condition you cannot control?"

I never thought about it like that. When considering a potential relationship with Edward, all of my thinking was focused on why it wouldn't work. But what about if it did work?

"We're like Penelope and Odysseus," I said at last. "Although I think I'm Odysseus."

"You're off having adventures while I fend off suitors," he teased, laughing at my shocked face. "I'm joking, of course."

The silence that fell was calm. Comfortable. Edward was the happiest I had ever seen him. My own happiness seemed to have no ceiling. It soared higher and higher, warming me from the inside out.

I leaned closer, testing my nerve. We both listened to the quickened pace of my heartbeat. Then I jerked back, horrified by a buzzing insect near my face.

His hand moved so fast I barely saw it. He snatched the mosquito from landing on my skin, squishing it in his palm.

I grimaced. "I think they're attracted to my sweat."

He chuckled. "Well, yes. Your hair looks like a haystack, but I like it."

I glared up at the sun. Though it was cool to see him sparkle, the sun was making me feel disgusting. "It needs to rain now."

"Or we could go swimming."

"Really?"

He pulled me to my feet. "Your favorite loch is just past that clearing. Come on, I'll race you."

Edward sped off into the trees, his laughter lingering behind him. I ran in that direction, shouting, "Cheater!"

He was waiting for me at the shore, ankle deep in the water. I paused to absorb the lovely sight. Days ago I nearly drowned here . . . now I was eager to dive back in.

Edward turned and pretended to be surprised. "Oh, there you are."

"Haha," I said sarcastically. I spun around and began unzipping my dress. When it was loose around my waist, I left it hanging from a nearby tree. It would be safe and dry there. When I turned back to Edward, he wasn't smiling anymore.

"What's this?"

"We're going swimming, aren't we?" I said innocently. The slip I wore underneath it was pretty mild for my time, but I wondered what was going through his head right now.

He was still gaping when I walked past him. I grinned and dove in, submerging myself completely.

It didn't take long for him to change his mind. When I surfaced, he was standing next to me, shirt and pants discarded in the breeze. I let myself admire him.

Michelangelo's David had nothing on Edward Cullen.

"Better?"

It was a moment before I could look away. "Much."

"Good."

I waited until he was closer and splashed him. He blinked the water out of his eyes and splashed me back. It quickly erupted into a splash fight. He, of course, had the advantage. The stream of water was so much that I screeched defeat.

"You are so annoying."

"But endearing," he said smugly. I let my feet find purchase at the bottom and splashed him one last time.

"I guess."

Edward moved closer until there was less than a foot between us. Something told me to stay very still.

He took my face in his hands, gently moving the wet tendrils of hair from my eyes. With Andrew I felt nothing but indifference. But with Edward there was mounting anxiety, anticipation . . . desire.

It was a sweet, brief kiss. I never wanted it to end. His mouth was cool and smooth against mine. When he pulled away, I was glowing.

"I've been wanting to do that."

He looked so boyish and happy. I wanted to kiss him again. And again. I placed my hands on either side of his waist and stood on tiptoe. The second kiss was longer. Less polite. My pulse was racing when he pulled away.

"Me too."

His eyes were darker than before. He almost looked . . . hungry.

"Everything okay?"

"I just need a minute," he said softly. He blinked and the gold returned. I was in his arms then, cradled against his chest. Right where his heart would be.

He seemed to guess what I was thinking. "If it could beat, it would beat for you."

"You know mine does."

Then I held him tighter. The shiver of a trip back was coming, and I didn't want him to know.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm leaving," I whispered, fighting back tears. "I'm going back."

We stepped back from each other. A safe distance, but eons from the closeness we had just established.

I wanted to be back in his arms, back in that safe space. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted to be here with him.

I refused to shut my eyes. Time was my enemy, but these moments were worth remembering. I lifted my hand to wave, and then I was gone.

A/N: Ahhh, finally, right? Poor Edward and Bella can only angst so much.

I saw that Number Our Days has been added to the Bella Centric: A Little of Everything community as well as The Time Traveling Community. Thank you!

So I have a little treat for you guys. Due to the shorter length of Chapter Eleven, I'm going to post two chapters next week. Chapter Eleven will be posted on Monday and Chapter Twelve will be on Friday. After that, the updates will go back to every Wednesday.

Don't forget to review, and I'll see you all this Monday! (If I survive Halloweekend, that is . . .)