A/N: These kids changed the plan on me a bit.

Big thanks to my Facebook group for helping me out with the soulmate sentence in this chapter. They gave me so many plot bunnies. I think I went with Jayme's suggestion at the end of the day, but they were all so good.

The sound of an incoming text never failed to make Edward smile. The reason was simple. More often than not, it was a text from Bella.

That day, despite her words being straightforward, Edward couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. He couldn't explain it even to himself. He just knew she needed cheering up.

If he was being honest, it was probably his own mood he was feeling. He'd had another fight with his parents. He knew their concern came from a good place, but he didn't need to be reminded constantly that he was living his life wrong. They thought they had all the answers.

Edward: How do you feel about motorcycles?

Bella: I get pissed off at them when I'm stuck in traffic. Who do they think they are, moving forward when I can't?

Edward: What if you're on one?

A minute went by, then, she sent a YouTube link. Edward had to laugh. It was from a few years back—a video with a few thousand reviews. It was a right-wing nutcase, talking about Charlie Swan—specifically about his delinquent, teenage daughter.

There was a short, grainy video within the video of Bella and a few, well, delinquents. The epitome of the stereotype—a bunch of kids with long hair, spiked into the tallest mohawk Edward had ever seen in one kid's case, riding motorcycles with that look on their face. The look of someone who wasn't about to wait for trouble to find them.

A bunch of kids pretending to be badasses, in other words. He couldn't judge; he'd been that kid once.

He tilted his head, watching teenage Bella—not so many years ago—climb onto a motorcycle, flipping the bird at whomever was videoing her.

She was visibly pregnant.

His heart gave a quiet pang, pieces of the puzzle that was Bella Swan falling into place with neat snicks. He remembered the way she'd gone pale when Nurse Mike suggested she hold baby Henry. It could be that she'd given the child up for adoption, but he didn't think so.

He wanted to ask, but… Well. It could wait.

Edward: Busy tomorrow?

~0~

They matched.

Bella came out of her apartment building wearing the same thing he was—jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair flowed loose, and he had the thought he might be a genius for planning this trip. It was a beautiful day, and she was stunning. The thought of her wind-mussed hair spread all around her...

But he was getting ahead of himself. There was energy between them—lightning and fire—but nothing they'd spoken about. He was far from naive. He knew how days like these ended, but he also knew he had no right to think of it as a certainty. He didn't want to. He wanted more with her. Nothing specific. Nothing he'd really thought through. Just more.

He reached for her without thinking. If she found it odd, she didn't say, only took the hand he offered. At her touch, so much of the tension he carried just drained out of him. She too had a heaviness about her when she'd stepped out of the building that seemed to drain from her features.

It was nice—the thought that his mere presence could make someone happy; lighter. He was used to being the cause of worry and drama.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Let's get gone," she said with a grin.

Yet they sauntered toward his bike at a slow pace, fingers clasped right at the tip; playing at whatever they weren't saying. He did let go of her fingers to put the helmet he'd brought for her on. They both knew she was more than capable of fastening the straps herself, but he pretended he was being helpful. She didn't seem annoyed. Her eyes lingered on his as he smoothed her hair back and her lips tugged up in the smallest of smiles.

He wanted to kiss her. Again. He dreamed about the taste of her.

Instead, he climbed on his bike and turned his head to look over his shoulder. He watched as she mounted the bike behind him, and he couldn't help his smile. Her arms locked around his waist.

Then, they were off.

It took about half an hour to get out of the citified area. A turn onto a side road and they were on their way.

The drive he'd picked out was a favorite of bikers. The kind of drive motorcycles were made for—all winding roads and hairpin turns. As they wound their way up the mountain, the morning clouds that had hung low in the sky from where they lived in the valley came up on them all of a sudden, obscuring the road more than a few feet in front of him. It was that awesome kind of scary—just enough danger to thrill. It was the kind of scene a vampire or a werewolf would feel right at home in. Bella's arms tightened around his waist, and her body pressed hard against his.

It was only when they broke through the cloud bank that Edward stopped. It wasn't an official destination—just a place they could stretch and admire the view. He pulled over at a turn out, holding the bike still as Bella dismounted. He watched her a beat—that moment when she took off the helmet and let her hair tumble down. She was beautiful. Against the backdrop, the scene was stunning.

Edward got off the bike and finally let his eyes drift away from Bella to take in the panorama. It was hard to believe a view like this existed so close to the sprawling suburbs. Right then, the valley and the distant city weren't visible through the heavy cloud cover. It looked like a river of fluffy white hugging the lines of the mountains.

"Looks like you could step right off the cliff onto one of them like a Charmin commercial," Bella said.

Edward chuckled, stepping close to the edge of the cliff and peering over. "Yeah, I don't recommend that."

He heard the crunch of dirt beneath her feet as she stepped closer. They stared out at the view, enjoying the cool, clean air.

"You didn't ask about the video," Bella said as though they'd been in the middle of a conversation.

For some reason, it didn't shock him. "What about the video."

"You know."

He did. "It's not really the kind of thing people should ask about, I think. But if you wanted to tell me…"

She sighed. "It's a short story. He was born too early. Like Henry, except I didn't hear the words. He had no soulmate words. I knew he wasn't going to make it then. I knew. It took him two days to die though. " Her voice was far away and thin. Sad. "Are you going to tell me I was stupid?"

"Why would I do something like that?"

"You saw me. Seven months pregnant and riding motorcycles."

"I don't think that's stupid."

"Motorcycles are dangerous."

"So are cars, statistically. The trick is not to crash them." He paused a beat. "Was that why he came early?"

"No. It just happened, the doctor said. But I always wonder if he was just being nice." She scuffed the dirt. "I was pathetic. No boyfriend. My mom… at least she FaceTimed me, I guess." Scuff. Scuff. "My dad sent an aide."

"Jesus Christ," Edward couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

"It was an election year. It was probably better, really. What was my father ever going to say? At least he sent a woman."

Edward didn't know what to say. He shifted and took her hand, squeezing his fingers tightly around hers. Touch always made him feel more human. He searched for words, but they didn't come. What could he say about the loss of a child? Unfathomable. What could he say about her parents not being there with her? Unfair. Orphaned as he was, he'd always had loving parents in some fashion. It was even less fair that someone let her believe she was responsible for the death of her son.

He flexed his fingers around hers, sighed, and let go of a secret he'd held alone for eleven years. It was the only thing he had—a piece of himself, his worst moment because she'd already given up hers.

"I have a child," he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her body jolt, felt her fingers jump in his hand. "You do? I… What's… I mean, what's his name? Hers?"

He stared out, past the thick clouds that hugged the mountains to the cityscape in the distance. "I don't know," he admitted, wondering if he could see the child from here; if they were still that close. He sighed. "It was two in the afternoon, October twenty-ninth. I was at work and then… My mind cleared. It went completely blank for a second except for the words. A soulmate sentence." He shook his head. "'Are you aware you've picked out shit colored paint?'"

Bella blinked. "Really?"

"Poor kid. Apparently they don't have good taste in paint."

"And their soulmate is a nosy asshole if that's their first words." She squeezed his hand. "You didn't know, then? About the baby?"

Edward shook his head slowly. "I wasn't with anyone. No one I'd been with had even hinted they were pregnant. It might not have been on purpose. It might have been the mother would have told me if she could. Casual sex is… Well, I guess it is what it is. I never went out looking to hook up, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. If I hit it off with a woman and one thing led to another…" He shrugged. "No strings. No fuss. No breakfast in the morning."

"And no exchanging numbers or basic where-to-find-you information?" Bella filled in.

"Yeah." He slipped his hand out of hers and shoved both his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped as he towed the ground. "I would have been there."

Her hand was warm at the center of his back. She leaned close to him. "I know." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "You could still go on Maury."

Maury Povich had a popular segment on his show—fathers like Edward who'd heard the soulmate sentence ringing in their head, marking the birth of a child they hadn't known about. Mostly, though, on his show, the men had an idea who the baby mama was. Maury would ask them to submit to genetic testing to prove the child wasn't the father's and, predictably, drama ensued.

"I didn't know what to do when it happened. Where to start," he said. "A month went by, then two. A year went by like nothing. I met Tanya. Then, prison happened, and here I am."

Silence fell as they stood side by side, but not an uncomfortable silence. The conversation was far too heavy for a not-even-date, Edward mused. But somehow, that wasn't uncomfortable either. It felt strangely natural to share these things with her—the deepest, darkest secrets of their souls. Maybe that was why it was so had accepted each other, faults, scars and all.

What a profound and peaceful thing to be simply accepted.

"Are you ready to go?" They still had more ground to cover.

In answer, she stooped, picking up her helmet from where she'd rested it at her feet. "Onward."

For the first time since he'd walked out of the prison, Edward truly felt his freedom. He felt taller and lighter. He had a flash of memory of the young man he'd been—arrogant and sure as he moved through the world.

He had a plan. He wasn't sure he should, but he did. It was a loose plan—enough room to go several ways.

But he let that thought slip away with the cool, early morning air.

At the top of the winding road, they reached their first planned destination—a nice, simple observatory. They walked, fingers brushing into the tiny museum. They touched a lot. A tap from her to get his attention. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he leaned in to get a closer look at one of the pictures on the wall. It was so natural to touch her, to be so familiar.

On impulse… Well. No. His whole being had ached to feel her against him, pulled to his front as she'd been pressed to his back on the bike. As they toured the outside of the observatory, peering up at the tall lens, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her down, taking the brunt of her fall. They were both breathless—her with surprise and him because, slight thing though she was, her body falling on his had knocked the wind out of him. They were a tangle of limbs, both laughing as they sat up.

That smile. Such a pretty, pretty smile.

He cupped her cheek. Her grin fell to something softer, and she put her hand over his. He let his thumb sweep along her skin, brush her lips with the lightest touch. He raised his eyes to hers. She raised her chin to him, inviting.

With a sigh, he leaned in. The wind ruffled his hair, and the noise of the other people milling around faded into the background. For sweet moments, as he tasted her lips, there was only her. He scooted close to her, one hand around her and resting on her waist.

Quickly, those tiny tastes, the little nips at her lips, weren't enough. He wanted more. To devour. He wanted to push her back on the grass and memorize the way her body felt under his fingers.

He wanted.

The sound of a woman clearing her throat brought reality back. He and Bella parted. The woman led her young child away, tossing a glare over her shoulder at them. Bella's cheeks flamed. He smirked and pushed her hair back over her ear. She licked her lips, and ducked her head.

They breathed. In. Out. And then, she sighed and craned her head, looking up at the observatory's dome. "We have to come back here. I mean. I have to come back here. Someday. At night." She craned her head further back, looking directly up. "At night."

And there it was. A natural segue. "Well…" he began.

Bella looked at him and arched an eyebrow.

"There's a little town down the other side of the mountain. One of those cute places. Antiques. Quirky shops. Expensive food." He paused a beat, looking in her eyes. "Nice hotels and inns. My parents kept my credit cards in good standing. We could get a room."

She bit her bottom lip. A few tense moments passed, and then she laughed.

"What?" he asked, somehow more amused than self-conscious.

"It's nothing." She looked down, tracing her fingers through blades of grass. "Just hearing my father's voice in my head. Apparently, according to him, a man like you only wants one thing with a girl like me."

"That…" Despite his indignance, it wasn't as though he could deny he wanted her. There was more to it, but there was also that.

In the end, he just smiled. It was a mischievous smile; one that matched the mischief that played at her lips. She was no naive flower, easily lead and bent to his whim. He tickled her sides with the pads of his fingers. "What does your father know, anyway? It could all be innocent. Two beds. We'll find a copy of Who Framed Roger Rabbit and play patty cake." He let his eyes hold her gaze. "If that's what you want."

He'd never had any intention of pushing her.

She cupped his face in her hands so tenderly and then ran her fingers through his hair. Rather than answer about what she did or didn't want in a hotel room in a quaint little town, she kissed him. It was a slow kiss and sensual. He moaned softly into her mouth.

No. He wasn't leading her anywhere. Were they about to make another mistake? Possibly, but it seemed to be what they were good at. Regardless, wherever they were going, they were going side by side, holding hands, and running.

A/N: These kids needed a break! Hehe.

Though I don't think I've mentioned what state their in, the drive I based this chapter off is the is the Palomar Mountain Loop. It's a gorgeous drive (I did it in a car…). Feel free to drop in on the group for visuals. And I like to think we have a good time there.