Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just fooling around with the characters.
A huge thanks goes out to FamouslySo (AllAtOnce) for her fabulous betaness. She always keeps me in line and has such nice things to say!
Out of here
We're out of here
Out of heartache
Along with fear
There goes the fear again
There goes the fear
---------------
I cracked a tired eye and felt stiffness creep up my neck. We'd fallen asleep on the couch again. This time I was still perched on Edward's chest. His deep breaths simulating a boat ride – with each inhale and exhale, my body rose and fell rhythmically. I didn't move, instead held on tighter and pressed my face more firmly into his chest. The result was two strong arms purposefully curling themselves around my body.
My mind slipped, thinking back to Mike and his distaste for cuddling. His distaste for sleeping on the couch. Hell, his distaste for rolled up sleeves. Always so controlled, always so controlling.
Edward's breathing hitched in his sleep and brought me back to the present. His mouth snapped and popped lazily and his teeth ground together. My lip curled in contempt.
Please don't let him be a noisy sleeper.
He sank down further into the couch cushions and strange, small noises emanated from his throat – not quite a snore, not quite a wheeze. His head turned from side to side, his teeth grinding and lips smacking.
What the hell?
I'd slept without interruption for what? Five hours. How the fuck had his crazy sleep behaviors not woken me up? Between the head thrashing and the teeth noshing, it's a wonder I hadn't been bucked off of the couch sometime during thenight. I kind of tucked my feet tighter, wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his chest. I stared at his face and hoped he was having a dream and it would all pass soon. It was either a dream or a seizure. I couldn't be sure.
It was like sleeping with a fucking three-year-old.
Things were getting worse. His hands started moving and clutching my body. The wheezy gurgling grew louder and I started to feel a little panicked. I raised a hand to his shoulder and was going to wake him. But what if he was like a sleep walker and reacted violently to being woken? What if he backhanded me in his fitful sleep rage? Then again, what if he was actually having a seizure and choked on his tongue while I laid on top of him? How was I going to explain that to the police?
Umm, yes sir, you've got that right. I was actually lying on top of him when said episode occurred. Yes, but I thought he was just having a bad dream… you know like dogs… when they twitch and jerk in their sleep.
Fuck it. I was going to have to wake him up. If he backhanded me, I would just have to ice it.
I slipped my hand down to his ribs and patted gently. I shook him lightly and all of the noises and movements increased. Terror clouded my face.
I knew he was too good to be true.
"Edward, wake up."
More tremors and gurgling. I shook him with more force.
"Edward, you're having a bad dream. Wake up."
No response. His face merely curled into a grimace.
"Edward!" I shouted, "You're having a bad dream! Wake up!" I shook him more and nothing.
I sat up on his chest, placing a hand on each of his shoulders, and started to sort of bounce in an attempt to stir him.
"You're having a bad dream or a seizure. Please get up!" My voice sounded frightened, but he didn't respond. I raised a hand to his cheek and lightly popped his tightened jaw.
"Edwaaaaaaaaaaarrrd!" I pleaded.
Finally, the jerking stopped. I stilled on top of his body, one hand on his shoulder, one hand on his chest.
I felt a funny vibration in his chest and my mind immediately flew past being panicked well into being terrified.
He was having a fucking heart attack.
His heart was vibrating under my palm.
The vibration increased.
I could almost hear it.
Oh God, I can hear it!
Wait… that was laughter.
He was fucking laughing.
His eyes popped open and stared back at me brightly. His lips twisted into a wide smile and laughter bellowed from him. His hands grasped my hips and my mouth just hung open.
No he fucking didn't.
My body started to catch up with my mind, my hands fisted and I felt the urge to pound his chest. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and a light sheen of sweat covered my brow.
He was still laughing, unable to form a coherent sentence. Just a series of 'but,' 'you should have,' and what sounded like the word seizure.
"Edward this isn't funny," I scolded. He started to reply, but the laughter simply grew louder.
"Edward, that was very scary for me."
Still only laughter and gasping breaths.
"Edward, my last boyfriend died in his sleep. He had a seizure. I wasn't able to... wake him up," I whispered solemnly.
His laughter ceased altogether. His gripped loosened from my hips. His mouth hung open.
Gotcha.
"Oh my God, Bella. I had no idea. I just…it was…I wasn't…" he stuttered and stammered. I felt minutely guilty for the guilt trip I was sending him on, but he deserved it.
"It was so scary Edward, like I was reliving the terror of that night." I was laying it on thick.
"Bella, I'm such a fucking idiot. I'm so sorry." His eyes were pleading, but we weren't quite there yet.
"It was so real, I couldn't wake you and I, I…" I paused dramatically, looking up at him mournfully. His face was twisted with a hundred different emotions. All of them a different shade of regret and remorse. "And I should have junk punched you to wake your sorry ass up!"
I slapped him on the thigh.
My eyes snapped up to his. I watched his face register what I had said.
That's right.
His face tightened and he looked on the verge of anger. I momentarily regretted goading him, but I recalled the stinging under my arms as he thrashed from what I feared was a heart attack or seizure.
We stared at one another.
It was a stand off.
A face off.
And then he burst into laughter. That joyful ringing. Not too loud. Not too creepy. Just right. Deep and warm and happy.
"You got me. I'll never do it again." He reached over and grabbed me gently by the back of the neck, pulling me towards him. "But in my defense, you drooled on me all night." He touched his lips to mine sweetly and I couldn't stop the resulting smile.
"I don't drool," I pouted as he tucked me back into his chest.
"Yes you do," he assured, "I always wondered what Uncle Buck meant by waking up thinking you were asleep in a swamp, but last night I discovered what it was all about."
I pushed off of his chest indignantly and stared down at him. My eyes caught a slight discoloration on his breast pocket. His eyes followed mine and he laughed.
Shit.
It was a drool stain. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks.
"But I never drool."
"You sure as shit did last night," he laughed. I covered my face sheepishly, but he pulled my hands away.
"It's ok. I don't mind," he soothed, "I knew I made women drool…"
"You're an ass." I hopped off of him, taking a brief moment to stretch, before I started towards the bathroom.
"You sound like Rice Krispies," he joked and swung his long legs over the side of the couch, "Snap, crackle, and pop."
I just ignored his joke and proceeded to brush my teeth. I heard the clank of his bag hitting the floor. He padded into the bathroom, toothbrush in one hand, a few items of clothing in the other. The gray band of his Hanes boxers peered out at me. I couldn't look away.
Naturally, he caught me looking and laughed. He tugged the underwear out and laid them on top of the pile.
"You showed me yours. It is only fair that I show you mine." He stepped past me and dropped the clothes on the closed toilet seat. He stepped up to the sink and grabbed the toothpaste.
"We use the same brand," he smiled. I grinned dopily with my toothbrush hanging from my lips and toothpaste foam on my chin.
We stood there brushing our teeth. His clothes were impossibly wrinkled, his hair impossibly disheveled. Overall, impossibly handsome. It was so domestic. So natural. A happy sound hummed in my chest.
I finished brushing my teeth and Edward bent back to turn the shower on.
"You want coffee or anything?" I aske d, grabbing a couple of towels from the linen closet.
He mumbled something that sounded like a no and diner. I just nodded and sat the towels down on top of his clothes. I slipped back behind him towards the door and he caught my wrist. He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth and bent down to kiss me lightly on the lips.
"Good morning," he whispered, toothpaste dribble on his chin.
"Good morning," I managed. I touched a hand to my lips and he smiled crookedly. He let my wrist go and proceeded with his prior task.
"Don't use all of the hot water," I warned as I left the bathroom.
"We can always shower together," he replied, "Don't leave on my account."
I just shook my head and stalked into the kitchen. I turned on a pot of coffee and went back into the living room to gather my things from last night. I straightened up the pillows on the couch and shoved our shoes into the basket by the door.
I grabbed his bag and my purse and headed into the bedroom. I passed by the bathroom and the door was wide open, Edward's clothes in a small pile by the tub. I swallowed thickly and craned my neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of him through the adjacent mirror. I couldn't make out anything. I wanted to stamp my foot, but instead I just headed into the bedroom and gathered my things for the shower.
I pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a light gray top. A thick brown belt and brown sandals would look nice and I'd be comfortable enough if we went for a long tour of Chicago. I pulled a few pieces of jewelry from my jewelry case and fussed over which pair of earrings to wear.
I heard the water shut off and the shower curtain open and close. I waited a few more minutes and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The door was still ajar and a fog of steam crept into the hall. I edged closer and could smell fresh, clean Edward.
"I'm dressed. You don't have to lurk around the corner."
"I wasn't lurking," I replied and opened and closed the linen closet. I grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom. There, amid the steam and porcelain, was a vision of sex.
Edward. Wrapped haphazardly in a low slung towel, cleaning out his ear with a little Q-Tip. His pale body was still shiny and dark patches of hair distracted me. His body was lean and hard, but with soft looking areas all the same. His hair was wet and dark, pointing in every direction as though he'd just run a towel through it. My motor functions slowed and I cursed every hormone that came to life at that very moment.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," he smirked.
What was is with him and the John Candy film quotes?
My mouth just opened and closed.
Open.
Close.
Open.
"You can't do things like that," I stammered, clutching the things in my hands close to my chest. He just continued on with his ridiculous grinning and tossed the Q-Tips into the garbage can.
"Why baby? I'm your boyfriend. Boyfriends can take a shower and be seen partially naked in front of their girlfriends, right?" He moved until he was inches from me. I could smell and practically taste his warm skin.
I just gurgled and twitched, I briefly feared that I was going to pass out.
"Ok, boyfriend, get your half naked ass out of here so I can shower."
"The nakedness thing is equal opportunity, girlfriend."
"Out." I pointed at the door and he laughed and grabbed his clothes off of the toilet. He brushed by me and dropped a kiss on my shoulder. I shut the door behind him.
"Oh no, I'm carrying too much stuff," I heard him howl from behind the door, "My towel fell off."
My hand twisted the knob out of instinct, but I caught myself before I wrenched to door open.
"You were so close Swan, I heard the knob turn," he goaded. Instead of responding and feigning innocence, I just turned on the shower.
The water would have to be cold.
Really cold.
-------
"We'll split the Big Kahuna between us. And I'll have a large orange juice and she'll have…" He paused for me to respond.
"The same please. And a coffee with cream."
The waitress nodded and tried not to stare at Edward as he slouched over the table, twisting a lock of hair and staring down at the menu. I wanted to console her and let her know that every woman I've met while in his presence has had the same reaction.
Glassy eyes.
Surprised smile.
High-pitched voice.
She was, however, the first one to sweat above her lip. I was going to be kind and attribute that to her duties as a busy waitress and the fact that she was most likely in the throes of menopause.
"Anything else?" She asked, while he continued to pour over the menu.
"Do you still have fried bananas? I can't seem to find them on the menu." He looked up at her with quirked eyebrow, his smile on the verge of disappointment.
"An old timer," she grinned, "I'll get Siggy to get them right out… do you want powdered sugar?"
"And chocolate syrup," he cooed. Her smile brightened and she stuck her pen behind her ear.
"It'll be just a few." She grabbed up our menus and skittered off to the kitchen.
"This place isn't as busy as I remembered it being. Sundays used to have a line down the block," he observed, throwing a cautious look around the retro themed diner.
"Well, maybe it's just a slow day," I offered, "That or it's slow because it's only barely daylight." I yawned.
"Yeah, probably…" he looked around the diner, quietly taking in the familiar sights and smiling kindly at the table beside us. I looked over to see an older couple, sitting on the same bench sharing a waffle. The plate was piled high with nearly six inches of canned whipped cream and enough syrupy strawberries to send them into a diabetic coma. The old man playfully spoon fed the old woman and kissed away the cream he got on her cheek. I sighed in response to their sweet interaction.
"So, Miss Swan, if we're going to do this right, we need to get our story straight." Edward reached across the table and laid his hand palm up for me to take.
"Our story?" I asked taking his hand.
"The story of me and you."
I was confused.
"The story of us. Our cover," he clarified as the waitress set our drinks down.
"Oh, well, I don't know. Shouldn't we just stay as close to the truth as possible. We met at your store. You were terribly flirtatious and took me out to lunch. The rest is history."
He looked at me incredulously. His eyebrows knit in clear disapproval. He shook his head.
"What? That is as good a story as any? Besides I'm a terrible liar," I defended.
"No, it isn't. Here's what I'm thinking," he took a long drink of his orange juice and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. His bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes tightened.
"Ok. We met at a child birthing class. You were with a girlfriend of yours and I went with one of my single friends who just so happens to be having a baby…"
Wow, completely random.
"Wait, so you go to a Lamaze class and I scope you out and pick you up? Doesn't that make me a bit trampy?"
I ignored the fact that in reality I was a bit of a tramp.
"Well, I guess that could be misinterpreted… Here's one. We met in the ER waiting room. We were both there with friends who had minor injuries that left us waiting for hours. Being the solid friend that you are, you waited for hours on end with your broken and bleeding friend. We just so happened to sit next to one another in the waiting area and sparked a conversation."
I mulled over the idea. It sounded legitimate enough and didn't cast either of us as a villain. I shrugged.
"Ok. How long have we been dating?"
"Almost seven months."
"And when is our anniversary?"
"October 31st. We started officially dating on Halloween. We went to a party dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. I was walking you home and asked you to go steady," he smiled crookedly, "You agreed. You were drunk though, not black out drunk, but you agreed nonetheless."
I snorted loudly and our waitress dropped down four large plates in front of us. Piles of sausage, ham, eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns overflowed the oval platters. My eyes bulged and I laughed at the overwhelming portion sizes.
"The Big Kahuna," I muttered. Edward thrust a set of wrapped silverware at me and encouraged me to dive in.
"Hell yes, this is the best greasy spoon you'll ever visit. Emmett, Rosalie's husband, downs one all by himself," Edward gushed as he unfolded a paper napkin and pressed it down into his lap. Our waitress stepped back over with his plate of bananas.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Ketchup, salsa, and two plates if you wouldn't mind," he asked in his velvety purr. She winked and sashayed away.
"So do you like get a prize for eating 15,000 calories in one sitting?" I joked as I plunged my fork into the sea of eggs and cheese before me.
"Not here, but he did get a t-shirt once at this diner in Canada. He ate a ten pound pancake," he said matter-of-factly, as though competitive eating was a common thing.
"Well," I shook my head in disbelief. I didn't really have any commentary on that. Edward just smiled brightly and grabbed an empty plate. He proceeded to pour a half bottle of Heinz Ketchup on it and a half bottle of chunky salsa on the other empty dish.
I just sat and watched him. He bubbled on about Emmett and his various eating accomplishments. It was such a welcome change from the normal drivel I was used to. Mike's conversations tended towards the changes in the financial sector, sailing, or his mother. When he wasn't spouting off on those topics he sat silently reading the New York Times and being oblivious to my presence.
But Edward. Edward was kinetic. He was motion. He was moving me. Pushing me. Pulling me.
I felt like I was moving forward even as I sat there, watching him drag huge spoonfuls of greasy eggs through a plate of salsa. He was momentum and electricity.
He made me feel electric.
No one had made me feel electric. Ever.
I began to laugh as Edward laughed. It didn't matter what he was laughing about, whatever it was, if it was worthy of his affections, it was worthy of mine. He pulled his straw to his lips and drank more of his orange juice. His eyes glittering over the rim of his glass, I could feel myself warming to him. As cliché as it sounds, it was like my limbs were waking up from a deep sleep and I could feel.
What I felt wasn't all good.
I felt stinging pains from years of neglect. Neglect to both who I was and who I had become.
I felt aches from years of trying to be someone else.
I felt strained from holding myself, my true self, back.
I ran a fork full of hash browns through the plate of ketchup and shoveled it into my mouth, gracelessly.
"That's the spirit," he encouraged. I chomped sloppily and took a swig of my coffee.
"I haven't eaten ketchup in years. Mike didn't like ketchup and so I didn't eat it. Isn't that stupid?"
"We all do stupid things. But who is this Mike guy?"
He eyed me questioningly. I slipped up. I'd fallen out of character.
"Oh, just some schmuck I knew way back when," I waved it off dismissively. I moved quickly to change subjects. "So even though I was black out drunk, you still asked me to be your girlfriend? What's wrong Cullen? Afraid I'd turn you down?"
He stopped ladling his breakfast.
"Absolutely terrified."
-----------
After the caloric overload that was breakfast, I suggested we walk the city a bit.
We spent the majority of the day walking the familiar blocks of Edward's childhood. He told me stories of his younger years. He showed me where he attended elementary, middle, and high school. He took me around to the different places he'd worked as a teenager. Bits and pieces of the things that made him the man that he was today.
We'd stop along the way to grab something to drink or eat or maybe to have a cigarette.
"I need to go to the grocery store."
"For what?" he asked, wrapping a long arm around my shoulder. I responded by looping my arm around his waist, dropping my hand into his droopy back pocket.
I must be feeling bold.
"My crazy houseguest has this ridiculous appetite and an impossible affection for ketchup. I need to stock up," I joked.
"That's not the only thing he's got an impossible affection for," he whispered into my ear. I shivered in response. My body reeled at the sensation.
"What else does he like? Salsa?" I husked.
"Salsa and Bella."
"Then I'm glad I have access to plenty of both."
He pulled in a jerky breath and brought me closer to him. We were weaving carelessly across the sidewalk.
"Bella, please don't tempt me in public. I can't promise I won't do something inappropriate."
"Oh, so it's ok as long as we're in private?"
"You can do whatever you want to me in private."
I stopped moving and tipped my chin upwards. His eyes caught mine and there was an unfamiliar expression. I decided to tread more carefully and stretched to give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. I smiled sweetly and wrapped my other arm around him.
I looked down at my feet as we walked. His hipster boots made me smile. A wandering eye moved up his body, past his slightly frayed jeans to… my eyes caught at an obvious bulge. A bulge where…
Oh shit.
I looked back up at him. He had slipped his sunglasses on and between the sight of him in his Ray-Bans and his erection, I was about to have a fucking orgasm. I couldn't stop myself, my eyes darted back down to the birthplace of every wet dream I would ever have from now on.
I just stared at it, almost willing it to disappear. For both of our sakes. I couldn't navigate the mean Chicago streets while staring down at his erection and I would assume he didn't appreciate his package there on display.
His gait began to slow and he maneuvered us into a secluded area near a loading dock.
"I told you I was not going to apologize," he breathed into my ear, "And I am not going to apologize for the way my body reacts to you." He pressed me against the brick wall with force, my breath left in a gush, but I found it again quickly in sharp gasps.
I swallowed thickly. I couldn't see his eyes for his sunglasses and I desperately wanted to memorize the heat they held when he felt aroused, when he felt aroused because of me. He took breaths through slightly parted lips; his tongue darted out to run across his bottom lip.
His lips sunk into mine, kissing me deeply. His teeth captured my bottom lip and tugged gently, my hands fisted through his silky hair. A hand found my waist and he took me even closer into him while the other wrapped around the nape of my neck. Our lips pressed together with intensity and need, never slowing, but merely deepening our contact in the flurry of movement.
My lips parted and our tongues swept over one another. The unmistakable taste of him glossed the inside of my mouth. It tingled like hot peppermint.
I couldn't think about what we were doing, rather I only felt the kiss of his stubble against my chin. The whisper of his eyelashes on my cheeks. The steely grip of his hands on my body. The liquid fire pooling between my legs. The unrepentant pressure of his arousal at my hip.
"Bella…you make…me…wild," he managed between kisses.
The hand on my hip fell away only to ghost over the covered flesh of my ribs. With tender movements, his fingers traced the lines of my body and sent an ache pulsing through me.
A hopeful sheen slicked the skin between my breasts.
My body was telling me what my conscious mind was hesitant to admit.
I wanted him.
Everywhere.
And in every way.
I moaned as his lips slipped from my own and trailed down the oversensitive skin of my neck. His head dipped down to the hollow of my collarbone. Heavy, open mouth kisses pressed into the thin skin. His tongue darted out and smoothed over the bone there.
Of their own accord, my hands grabbed and flattened over the planes of his back. The firm cast of his body was covered by the downy fabric of his sweater. My mind was forced to recall the visions from earlier in the morning. His body pink from the hot shower. His skin slick with moisture and smooth with youth. I clawed at his sweater, pulling it up and pressing my palms against the white hot heat of his skin. Tiny noises bubbled up from my throat. I felt insatiable.
Edward's nimble hands ceased their torturous climb up and down my ribs. In earnest reverence, a timid hand slipped under the heather gray material of my shirt. His slightly cool touch found the overheated skin of my stomach. A lazy finger traced the circle of my bellybutton and my body hunched over in response. My forehead found his shoulder and his lips grazed the lobe of my ear.
"I want you Bella. I want you more than I think I've ever wanted anything else."
"Oh, Edward," I moaned.
His hand slid further up my shirt.
My already hardened nipples tightened painfully in anticipation of his touch. Panting breaths rang in my ear and I was unsure which were his and which were my own. The steady thunder of my pulse rang loudly and it was only a matter of time before he could feel it.
I pushed his sunglasses up onto his head so that I could see his eyes. They were burning with passion. They were burning for me.
It had been so long. It had been so long since I felt desired.
And now passion was pouring over me.
His hand slipped under the stiff wire of my bra and tickled the swell of my breast. A hitched breath broke free from my throat and I groaned in pleasure. I felt pathetic for reacting so powerfully from such a light touch. Surely he thought I was desperate and green.
"Those sounds are going to end me," he husked into my ear. "Those sounds and the sensation of your sweet skin will be my downfall." He pressed himself into me and my pussy throbbed. I reached down to palm his stiff cock through his jeans. My hand barely grazed him before he took my wrist and brought it back to his neck.
I locked eyes with him. His gaze was dark and committed.
This is for you, it said. I shivered at his display of selflessness and in the realization of my own need.
I couldn't need him this much.
Not yet.
I couldn't need him this bad.
It was too intense.
He kneaded and caressed me to the brink of climax. Short bursts of air left my lips and my eyes squeezed closed. The need built quickly, thick and plush in my stomach. I was going to come at his fondling me alone.
In desperation, I ground myself against him. Hoping to create more friction between my legs, I widened my stance and moved myself over his knee.
I felt embarrassed. The months without sexual contact had made me quick on the draw. It was as though I was a 15-year-old boy dry humping with his first 'serious' girlfriend. It was experimental and going to be over too soon.
"Edward," I panted, "I'm going to…"
"Yes, Bella, let me help."
He dropped his other hand to my waist and brought his lips back to my mouth. His hand clenched the thick denim at the apex of my thighs. With perfect pressure he ground his hand against the throbbing ache in my pussy.
I forgot everything.
Where I was.
What I was wearing.
How long we'd been standing there.
Everything but who I was with and the indulgent pleasure he was giving me.
My forehead found his shoulder again and he whispered small words into my ear, pressing me on towards my final destination. Each word fell out in hot waves against my neck. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as the tightness increased and my unraveling began.
"Bella look at me," Edward instructed into my ear. I whimpered and shook my head in embarrassment.
"Look. At. Me."
I sheepishly lifted my head until I could see his green eyes. A tranquil smile dripped from his lips, his face the picture of calm. I could only imagine what I looked like. Pink with lust and wild with the sensation of his hands on me.
I speared my hands through his hair and brought his lips to mine, our persistent tongues wildly competing for dominance.
His hand increased speed and pressure only to bring me over the edge. I mewled into his mouth, a long and shaky cry of pleasure. He breathed deeply, taking my pleasure into his body without caution.
He held me close, his nose tucked into the loose hair at the crook of my neck and sweet, wet kisses fell on the skin of my shoulder. I clung to him tightly, spasms breaking over my body in waves as I came down from our encounter.
Our very public encounter.
Realization struck and I looked around for any witnesses. Edward's throaty laugh vibrated against my chest.
"No one saw, sweet girl. That was shared between us alone."
I sighed in relief and let my head fall back against the bricks behind me.
"God Edward… that was…"
My words failed me.
He chuckled. "That was only second base."
-------
Close your brown eyes
And lay down next to me
Close your eyes, lay down
'Cos there goes the fear
Let it go
Well, I hope you enjoyed that.
I just wanted to address something really quick... I've gotten some concerns that Bella is a little uptight. I can understand this, but keep her situation in mind. She is in a quasi breakup with her fiance. She is currently shacking up with Bookward. She wants to let go, but is scared to screw everything up. She is hesitant, cautious, and it comes off as being a bit cool.
Things are changing for her though. As we've seen in this chapter, she really wants Edward. So, maybe his sweet lovin' can warm her cold heart. :D
Oh, and let me do some shameless self promotion.... I've started a new fic, All that Glitters. Check out my profile for a link. It is completely different from The Sweetest Thing, but I don't think that is a bad thing.
Reviews are like second base... No, that's a lie. Reviews are like a home run.