Stephenie Meyer, you know, owns Twilight. Whatever is left here is mine.

Thanks to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc who helped immensely with this chapter.

The reviews and comments have been absolutely wonderful -thank you!

CHAPTER 10: Give And Go

As he drove I asked him questions about the game of hockey. I wanted to supplement the very basic knowledge I'd picked up from the internet, movies, and books I had gathered. I wanted to learn everything about him that I could. I was greedy for any scrap of information and insight that he could give me. I could see the excitement and animation in his face and gestures as he talked, and in the way he kept sneaking glances at me, just as I was doing to him. The attraction between us seemed to spark and sizzle in the confines of the car, and I knew it wasn't just my imagination or wishful thinking. I was kind of surprised that I was completely comfortable with the feeling, the anticipation, and a little excited. He fascinated and intrigued me, and the more I got to know him, the more I realized it wasn't just his pretty face or amazing body. He was fun, complex, and smart. I was completely enthralled.

He told me a little bit about growing up with his talented and clever older brother, and I could hear the respect and love he had for him. It made me slightly regretful; I'd grown up pretty much alone, and not just because I didn't have siblings. He was so observant – he could hear the wistfulness in my voice when I asked more about his family. Either that or he was paying closer attention to me than I thought. His hand moved to hover over my knee before he drew it back, and I watched the motion with a little regret. He'd started to make a couple of gestures like that during our ride to the arena – as if his desire to touch me was instinctual, unconscious — before he thought better of it. I didn't know how to tell him I wanted him to touch me. I was beginning to crave it.

We pulled into the large parking lot surrounding the ice arena. I opened my door and got out before he could come around to do it himself. I appreciated his gentlemanly gestures, but I didn't see the need to sit and wait for him to open my door every time we stopped. I met him at the hood, and he frowned slightly at me. I grinned in return and then looked around curiously, surprised to see quite a number of cars there. I asked Edward about it as we headed toward the front entrance.

"There are a lot of leagues that play and practice, we all try to get ice time when we can. There are usually people here from about four in the morning until eleven at night during the week, later on the weekends."

"Really?" I was surprised.

"Yeah." He pulled the heavy glass door open for me, and I went inside. "It's the only ice rink for miles. The next closest is in Port Angeles." Port Angeles was over an hour away. "There are a lot of us that play hockey, and the figure skaters use it to practice and for competition as well. Then there are the open skate periods…" He shrugged. "It gets a lot of use." He came up behind me and once again placed his hand on my lower back. He wasn't actually putting his arm around me, but he was touching me and it felt possessive just the same.

I looked at the lobby as we entered. It appeared pretty typical. The floor was a soft but firm black foam-type material. We went through another set of doors that opened into a wide, curved hallway with a cement floor and a larger concession stand to our left. Edward steered me toward a large, bright opening, and we stepped out into the arena where seating surrounded the rectangular ice rink. It consisted of aluminum bleacher-style seating on the long sides, and wooden chairs whose seats flipped up around the shorter ends. There were a number of large, very burly looking men skating around the ice. I realized they looked so big due to the fact they were in uniform and pads. I wondered what Edward looked like in his. Taller and bigger and broader…oh my.

He walked up to the ice, which was separated from the seats by a half-wall. A Plexiglas shield topped the wall around the shorter ends of the rink. There were benches where the opposing teams sat on either long side. Edward paused, his hand still on my lower back. His fingers lightly stroked across the fabric of my jacket, but I felt it as though it was my bare skin. I suppressed a shiver as he guided me toward the seats behind one of the team benches.

He sat next to me. "Are you okay? You're not too cold?" he asked as he rubbed my shoulder.

I considered lying just to make him keep touching me, but I didn't want him to think I was uncomfortable in any way. It was a little cool, but actually much warmer than I thought it would be so close to that much ice. I looked up and saw huge heaters attached to the ceiling over the seats, providing the comfortable temperature.

"I'm good," I told him. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"I always come the night before one of my games to think, to kind of visit the scene of the crime before the fact." He shrugged self-consciously. "Concentrate for a bit on the upcoming game. I try to think of all the things I need to do and go over strategy one more time by myself, and make sure I don't forget anything."

It seemed like a lot of responsibility and pressure. I guess I had seen it as just some sort of backyard game and boys having fun – it was kind of how I had viewed all sports when I had bothered to think about them at all. I had never realized the work, effort, and discipline that went into organized sports. I suddenly realized what he had said, that he needed to think and usually came to the rink by himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Edward. I don't want to intrude or anything if you want to be alone."

"Stop apologizing," he said softly, his eyes on mine. A faint wash of red stained his cheekbones, and I didn't think it was from the cold. "I didn't want to take you home. I need to do this – I know it seems a little obsessive – but I wasn't ready for you to go just yet."

I thrilled to his words and felt a wide smile break out over my face. "I didn't want to go home, either."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He reached over and squeezed my fingers. "I'm sorry if you're bored."

"Stop apologizing." I threw his words back at him, and he grinned. "I'm fine. You go ahead and do what you need to do."

"I'll try. You're kind of a big distraction, but in a good way." It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize again, but he raised his brow warningly as if he could read my mind. I managed to keep silent, and he turned to face the ice.

He leaned forward in the seat, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped between his spread knees. I watched him curiously for a few seconds, surprised and thrilled he was letting me share such an intimate, almost vulnerable, moment. I turned my attention to the action in front of us before he noticed me staring at him and I made him nervous. There were a lot of smacks, thwacks, and grunts, and the occasional sound of bodies crashing together at high speed. I winced, realizing strings of profanities and good-natured ribbing also flew across the ice. I didn't understand any of it, but it was totally fascinating.

We sat in silence for a while. I was content to let him do whatever he needed to do and just sit with him – I could tell he was deep in concentration. He didn't seem uncomfortable, just focused, so I amused myself by trying to figure out how the men on the ice could keep track of the puck. I had an overview sitting up in the seats and still couldn't follow it. I was so caught up in watching them tear up and down the ice following the hard black rubber disc that I unconsciously jumped in my seat and gave a small cheer when I saw it go in the net. Edward turned his head to me with a smile, and I grinned back at him.

"Did you see that?" I asked. "It went right in! I saw it!"

"Yeah," he returned my grin and shook his head. "It's called a goal," he said, the smartass. "I'll make a hockey fan of you yet."

"I didn't mean to bother you," I told him when he didn't say anything else, just sat there smiling at me.

He laughed and shook his head again. "You aren't bothering me, Bella. I asked you to come with me, remember? I'm glad you did."

"Yeah," I said softly. "So, who's playing?" I nodded toward the ice.

"This is a scrimmage – practice — for the adult league," he explained. "They're here every Friday night unless the high school has a scheduled game. We mostly play on Friday nights. Our home opener is on Saturday, tomorrow, because of the rink schedule."

"Hey, Edward." One of the players skated up to the wall and leaned against it, looking up at us. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Demetri. I'm hanging in there."

"Game tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Edward stood and touched my elbow, making sure I was with him. He walked down to the front row to shake the man's hand. "I'm just communing with the Hockey Gods."

Demetri smirked and clapped him on the back. "You suiting up? Gonna play with us tonight? I could use you, man."

"Nah." Edward's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he turned to me. "Demetri, this is Bella. Bella, this is Demetri."

"Hello, Bella." Demetri pushed his helmet up off his face and shook off the huge glove he wore. He gently took my hand in his large one. I couldn't quite place his accent.

"Hi," I said shyly in return, smiling at him. He stared at me in a curious but friendly way.

"It's nice to meet you. I've never seen Edward bring a girl to the ice before. Guess I can see now why he's not joining us tonight."

Of course I blushed, and Demetri laughed. Edward took pity on me. "He's just trying to give me a hard time, Bella. Ignore him."

"Has she ever seen you skate before, kid?" Demetri asked, slipping his glove back on his hand and punching his fist into it.

"Tomorrow's our first school game."

Demetri looked from Edward's face to mine. "So? I take that as a no?" He shook his head. "You don't know what you're missing, Bella. He's a talented son-of-a-bitch."

"Demetri..." Edward growled warningly, his cheeks flushed.

"Sorry," Demetri apologized with an unrepentant grin. He looked at Edward and raised his brows. "But it's true. You know you're welcome anytime, Cullen. I can always use you on the ice."

Edward gave him a punch to the shoulder. "Maybe next week. We've got to get going."

"It was nice to meet you, Edward's Bella," Demetri called as we walked away. "Come back anytime."

"Thank you, Demetri. It was nice meeting you, too." I threw a grin over my shoulder as Edward led me away.

Demetri laughed as we walked out the door.

I was smiling but thoughtful as we walked back to his car. Edward was quiet as we approached, hitting the unlock button on the key fob. I put my hand on his arm before he could open the door, stopping him. He turned to me with a questioning look.

"Demetri said…how come you've never brought anyone with you before?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and met my gaze in the dim illumination thrown by the parking lot lights. It was a rare dry night in Forks, but a little cold. I slid the zipper of my jacket up a bit higher, giving my hands something to do. He still didn't say anything, and I leaned back against the Volvo, putting my hands behind my hips to still them and use them as a cushion.

"Well," he said slowly, a smile spreading across his features as he took in my increasing nervousness. "I've never really wanted to, until now."

"Oh." I stared down at the ground and worried my lower lip with my teeth as I digested this. I looked up sharply as he moved a step closer to me. "I was wondering…"

"Yes, Bella?" He took another step. He was standing directly in front of me.

"I was wondering about something you said a while back." My eyes focused on the opening of his leather jacket.

"Okay…" he said encouragingly.

"You said…" I took a deep breath and forced the words out bravely. "You said you'd seen me before, at school, and that I'd avoided you. I didn't understand what you meant."

He reached out and ran his hand along the lapel of my jacket, staring at the motion with a thoughtful expression. "Hmm." His mouth twisted, and my stomach jumped.

He met my eyes, smiling that half-smile, but this time it was self-deprecating instead of cocky. "I'd seen you at school, noticed you, mostly hanging out with Angela. I found out your name and asked Ben about you."

I stared at him in utter shock, my mouth hanging open. "When was this?" I managed to gasp.

"Last year?" He shrugged, his fingers still playing with my jacket.

"Why?" I asked, my mind spinning. How could this be? How did I not notice? Was I the stupidest person on earth, or was this some kind of sick joke? And why the hell hadn't Ben said anything?

His hand moved to touch my hair. "Because I thought your hair was pretty. You have beautiful skin. It glows." His knuckles brushed my cheek. "Because you're quiet, but your eyes…your eyes show so much more."

"Guh?" I was melting. I was numb. Was I dreaming?

"I tried to talk to you a couple of times." He shrugged with one shoulder, and I could sense the nervous tension in his body. He wouldn't meet my eyes and his fingers went back to fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket. "I tried to approach you in the hall, or at lunch. At the one football game you went to last year. Each time you either looked away and ignored me completely, or just walked away without even acknowledging my presence. I figured you had no interest in a jock, you know, and that you didn't want to waste your time with what you thought I was."

Okay, I was the stupidest person on earth. "I – I didn't realize…"

He shrugged again, looking down, and I realized he really thought I'd been blowing him off, that he had believed I wanted nothing to do with him because he was a jock. I couldn't completely understand how that could be, but I only wanted to make him feel better, to clarify the misunderstanding. I put my hand on him, where his jacket opened about halfway up his chest. I could feel the heat of him through his shirt.

"Edward, I don't remember any of that." I looked earnestly into his eyes, trying to meet his gaze. "Trust me — if I thought you wanted to talk to me, I would have been all over you. If I didn't look at you or walked away, it was because I didn't want to embarrass myself."

He frowned. "Now I don't understand."

I sighed, finally placing my hand on his cheek, touching the line of his jaw like I had wanted to do for years. "I never in a million years imagined you, Edward Cullen, would want to talk to me. If it seemed like I was ignoring you, well, it was because I was embarrassed for anyone to see that I watched you all the time, that I thought you were…wonderful. I felt like an idiot. I didn't want you to know I was just like those other stupid girls, following you around like a brainless groupie."

"Brainless groupie?"

I dropped my hand, my cheeks turning red. I hoped it was dark enough he didn't notice. "You know what I mean."

"No one in their right mind would mistake you for a brainless anything, Miss Swan. And I'm usually in my right mind, although you have an alarming tendency to make me crazy."

"I do?"

"Yeah." He sighed, taking a deliberate step into me. My legs widened their stance involuntarily, until he was practically pressing against me. "I never know what to expect with you."

"But that's a good thing, right?" I asked breathlessly. He was just so close, so warm, so big. It was all I could think about.

"It is." He tipped his head down to me, our faces only inches apart. "It appears we've wasted a lot of valuable time."

I felt the steel of the car behind me and the hardness of him in front of me. "Let's not waste anymore, then," I said. The boldness of my words was contradicted by the tremor in my voice. God, I wanted him to kiss me!

I heard as well as felt his sudden intake of breath. We stared at each other, and I fought the urge to blink. Hurry up this time! I thought desperately. He closed the distance between us until I felt his nose brush against mine. My entire body ached in anticipation – he was killing me here – and I could taste his warm breath…just before he pulled away with a violent jerk.

What. The. Hell!

He stared at me with narrowed eyes from a couple of feet away, and I finally heard what had startled him – loud voices approaching us. He was breathing heavily and glanced up as a group of men came into view, walking toward their vehicles. He reached behind me, opening the passenger side door of the Volvo and holding it open. I slid quickly inside, glad that I didn't go sprawling on the ground. My legs were weak with disappointment. The light flashed on in the car as he got in behind the wheel and then shut the door, turning to me with a chuckle.

"I'm never going to try to kiss you in a parking lot again. It's too hard on my…ego."

I groaned, twisting in my seat to face him. He'd better try to kiss me somewhere…and soon. My lips tingled with the desire to feel his mouth on mine. There was a strange vibration running through my body. He imitated my posture, making no move to start the car.

"So." This time his little half-smile was definitely cocky, no doubt about it. "You think I'm wonderful."

I raised a brow in return, despite the blush I knew was rising in my cheeks. "You like my hair."

"Mmm," he hummed, reaching out to touch a thick strand where it spilled over my shoulder. "And your skin." His fingers brushed my neck, and I couldn't suppress a small shiver. "And your eyes, don't forget those."

We smiled sheepishly at each other. Never breaking eye contact we slowly, unconsciously leaned in over the console toward one another. A horn chirped and lights flashed on the car that was parked facing us as it was unlocked by a remote. We both jumped back like we'd been tasered.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted, glaring out of the windshield. A couple of the men that had interrupted us moments ago got in the vehicle. It backed up and drove away.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. I was breathing heavily, both from the anticipation of his kiss and being surprised yet again. I started giggling — I couldn't help myself. He took a deep breath and looked at me, smiling ruefully.

"This is a cockblock of cosmic proportions." He winced. "Sorry."

"No, you're right." I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter.

Shaking his head, he laughed with me. He glanced at the clock and sighed. It was almost midnight.

"I guess I'd better get you home." He shook his head again, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. "You're coming to the game tomorrow, right?" he asked as we drove down the familiar streets to my house. "Crowley's having a party afterward. We're all going."

"Yep. Alice and Jasper are going to pick me up before the game. We'll be there."

He nodded. "Good."

"I've never been to one," I admitted, forcing myself to look out the window at the passing scenery instead of staring at his pretty face.

"You've never been to a party?" he asked, shocked.

I laughed, turning back to him. "No, I've been to a party before, just not an after-hockey-game party."

"Oh, yeah. That I do know," he said. "I would have noticed. I'm glad you're coming to this one."

I just loved when he said stuff like that – it made me feel so much better about my obsessive tendencies toward him. He pulled into my driveway, putting the Volvo in park and switching off the ignition. I looked at him in question as he reached out and squeezed my fingers, staring down at them. After a moment he raised his eyes to mine with a smile.

"I really had a good time tonight, Bella. I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you asked." I returned his smile. "Thank you for the ice cream."

"You're welcome." His eye studied my face. "I'd really like to kiss you," he admitted softly and then chuckled, shaking his head. "But there's no way I'm going to try that again tonight, especially here."

"Why not?" I asked, befuddled. Just friggin' kiss me, dammit!

"Because your dad has a gun, and after tonight…I don't think I should take any chances." His gaze didn't leave mine as he tipped his head toward the house. "Besides, we're being observed right now."

My head snapped around to see a curtain twitch in the front window. Damn Charlie for spying on us.

"It's okay," he sighed, getting out of the car.

"No it isn't," I grumbled under my breath as he came around to open my door. "You don't have to walk me to the door."

He frowned. "Of course I do, Bella. Don't be silly."

I shrugged, and he was close by my side as we walked up the porch stairs.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said as we paused outside the front door. His eyes flickered to the window as he leaned down to press his lips briefly to my forehead. "Good night, Bella."

"Good night," I murmured as he walked slowly down the steps and back to the Volvo.

With a wistful sigh I touched my fingertips to the spot on my forehead where his mouth had pressed briefly before turning to step into the house.

Put the pitchforks down - if you kill me, you'll miss Bella's first hockey game next chapter...

I barely contained the urge to launch myself over the plexiglass and lick him dry like some perverted momma cat.