All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the author. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. January 2011.

Thanks as always, to my incredible xrxdanixrx, who also made the banner. Check out her wonderful new story: These Days. XO BB

A million thanks to my dear friend MizzezPattinson who has graciously agreed to pre-read this story. Much love, hun. Your support means everything to me. XO

Thanks to all who are reading, reviewing, and recommending this little story. As always, let me know what you think. Well, let's see what our Edward will do now.

Edward

Chapter 12

"Edward." My name falls from Isabella's lips as a whisper while my eyes stay locked to James' steel, icy blue ones.

I feel like I'm going to pass out as we stare at each other, and I'm actually thankful that I didn't turn around and just leave as I originally planned. James is clearly drunk, and I shudder to think about what may have happened if I had just walked away… what might still happen.

"Who the fuck is this?" James slurs, narrowing his eyes further.

With those simple words, all the years of hiding how it feels to being taunted and intimidated boil to the surface, and I unleash on him. "You're all the same," I say, my voice shockingly firm. "It starts out in the playground where you probably threw sand in some six year old child's face. It progresses to high school where you tried to stuff someone in a locker and then broke their glasses when they wouldn't do your algebra homework. And now, you're forcing yourself on a woman who has clearly rejected your advances. You… are nothing but a bully."

My heart races, and I feel the blood drain from my face as he steps towards me, swaying slightly in the process. "You just made a big mistake," he says, poking me in the chest.

"James, you need to go," Isabella urges, trying to pull on his arm, but he yanks it from her and fists the front of my shirt. I shut my eyes, knowing what's coming. At least, perhaps, this will give Isabella time to get out of the room. That's really all I care about.

"Edward, is everything..." Emmett's voice registers from the doorway, and my eyes fly open as I feel him move beside me. "James, what the hell? Get your hands off my brother, man," he growls, taking a protective stance beside me.

James looks between Emmett and me, releasing his grip. "I was just trying to have a little fun… with Izzy, here," he stammers, unable to even stand upright.

"Her name is Isabella," I say, my voice wavering, my eyes locked to his.

"I don't need this shit," James hisses, his eyes darting to Emmett, knowing there is no way he can take him on, at least not when he's this intoxicated. Actually, I'm not sure he would be any more successful if he was sober.

A silent stand off begins between them as I see the tell tale signs of Emmett's protective mode kick in. As much as I may complain about his lack of etiquette and his questionable taste in clothing, I know that he would lay down his life for me without hesitation. He's the bravest person I know and I am in awe of him.

I also know that I need to get James away from Isabella. She seems frozen in place, her eyes wide and panicked as they dart between the three of us. "Emmett, can you see that James finds his way out of here?" Somehow, I manage to find my voice.

"I'm on it, man. Come on, you need to sober up," Emmett growls. With shaking legs, I step to the side as James stumbles out the door, mumbling under his breath with Emmett following behind him.

Isabella is in front of me quickly, her eyes glassed over while my breathing starts to come in gasps. "Edward? Shit… Come here, sit down." I feel her arm around my waist as I lean into her, and she leads me to the chair behind the desk. "Breathe," she whispers, her voice soothing, and I try to focus on it… something to keep me from passing out. I sit down in the creaky chair, bending forward and feeling like I'm going to vomit as she grips my hand, clutching it tightly.

She squats beside me, still holding onto my hand. It's a lifeline, and I squeeze it back, afraid to let go. I lift my head, staring back at her, her expression beyond worried. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" I ask.

"I'm okay. My wrist is a little sore, but I'll be fine," she says quietly.

"Let me see." I gently lift her arm with trembling hands, pushing up the sleeve on her hoodie, scowling at the light red mark from where he clearly grabbed her too tightly. "We need to get some ice on this," I mutter, feeling light headed as the adrenaline starts to make its way out of my system.

"I don't care about my arm. What were you thinking, Edward?" she asks, her hand cupping my cheek lightly.

"I could ask you the same question." She shuts her eyes, shaking her head. "Do… do you have a relationship with that man?"

She huffs, opening her eyes and dropping her hand from my face. "No. What I had with James doesn't qualify as a relationship." I furrow my brow. I'm fairly certain I don't want to hear any more. "It was just sex... that's it." Her words hang in the air while I try to process them.

"I see." I run my shaking fingers through my hair. I need to lie down. "You deserve more than just sex, Isabella. You do realize that?"

She stands up, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm going to get you some water. I'll be right back," she says softly.

I stay slumped over, watching as she moves quickly out of the office. I lift a hand to my face, removing my glasses as I try to wrap my head around what I've just done. I've never confronted anyone before, and I'm not really sure how to process what I'm feeling.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Emmett's voice breaks me from my self imposed melt down.

I raise my head as he moves beside me. "I'm fine, Emmett. Thank you for asking... for being here. I'm fairly certain I'd be lying in a pool of my own blood right now if you hadn't showed up."

He slaps my back. "I doubt that. That took balls, man."

"Or sheer stupidity."

He chuckles. "You're a Cullen. We stand up for what's important to us. I'm proud of you." I smile weakly at him. "It's been a big day for you," he says, smirking.

"And I didn't even have to go zip lining."

He laughs, loud and boisterous, cutting through the tension in the air. "Where's James?" I ask, putting my glasses back on.

His scowl returns quickly at the mention of James' name. "Jake is driving him to some town close by and finding him a place to sleep it off."

"Is that wise?"

"You did see the size of Jake, right? He's almost as big as I am, and James is pretty much passed out, anyway. He probably won't even remember what happened."

"How convenient." This is going to be etched in my mind for an extremely long time.

"What happened, bro? I've never seen you like this."

"I don't know." I rest my forehead in my hands. "I came back here to find her, and I was actually going to leave, but then I heard the vile, repulsive things he was saying, and I… I just snapped. That's never happened to me before. I've never lost control. I didn't even care if he hurt me. I just wanted to get her out of here," I try to explain.

"You did the right thing," he says, patting me on the back.

"I got your water…" Isabella's voice trails from the doorway as I turn my head to her. "I can come back."

"Naw, it's okay. I'm going check on Rose, anyway," Emmett says, hitting my back harder than he needs to before moving to Isabella. "Are you sure you're okay?" She nods at him, and he hugs her. "Catch ya in a while, bro." He sounds completely unfazed as he makes his way out of the office and down the hallway.

Isabella smiles at me, moving to the desk and handing me the large glass of water. "Thank you." I drink back the entire contents without stopping.

"I'm pretty sure I should be saying that," she says, watching me closely. "I've never seen anything like that. That was just… I don't even know."

"Foolish?"

She shakes her head. "No. It was amazing. Thank you. I didn't expect him to follow me. I told him I wasn't interested. I just came back here to clear my head, hoping he'd be gone when I came out, and well, you know the rest."

"Well, hopefully he won't be back," I say, although something tells me we wouldn't be that lucky.

"He was pretty drunk. I doubt he's going to even remember what happened."

I nod, amazed at the power of alcohol to wash away such an intense experience. I push up from the chair, my legs unsteady. Her arm is around my waist quickly, and even though I'm fairly certain she couldn't stop me from falling, I feel strangely stronger with her arm around me.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," I say, staring down at her as exhaustion starts to sink in.

She nods, her eyes searching mine. "Would you mind walking me home?" she asks quietly.

"I thought you said Cooper Landing was safe?" Her face falls, her arm releasing me, and I instantly regret my words. Clearly, the events of the evening have been too much for me. "I'm sorry. That was extremely rude. Please forgive me, I'm... I'm still recovering from... whatever that was a few minutes ago." She smiles, my heart warming. "Of course I'll walk you home. Do you have a jacket?"

"No."

I shake my head. "How can you be warm in just this?" I ask, waving my hand in front of her zip up, which hardly seems adequate for an evening that is as cool as this one.

She shrugs her shoulders. "I'm used to it. It's a nice night, and besides, I have you to keep me warm."

My breathing catches at her words. "Yes. There is that." She smirks, linking her arm with mine and leaning into me as we leave the office and proceed down the hallway.

BTN

Thirty-six. The number of minutes I've had to sit and endure Emmett's version of the events in Isabella's office while Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie stare at me in disbelief. They are more shocked than I am, I think.

Eight. The number of times Isabella's hand has run a circuit up my arm, causing my heart to race and my mind to wander.

Two encores, which were not deserved for Sam and his wayward band of marginally talented musicians... if you want to call them that.

One extremely awkward hug from Charlie as he thanks me for coming to Isabella's rescue. Those are his words, not mine, and honestly, the whole ordeal is one which I would like to try to put behind me. I've had a lifetime's worth of attention this evening, something I loathe, and I desperately would like to return the place of invisibility that I normally occupy.

Isabella and I walk behind Emmett as he runs towards the row of cabins with Rosalie on his back. Jasper and Alice hold hands, swinging their arms between them while we make our way from the bar into the cool night.

I'm completely exhausted, and I'm not even sure how I'm able to stand upright. Isabella links her arm with mine while Alice inquires as to an excursion to Anchorage. We continue down the stone path, and I remind her that is on the agenda for the day after tomorrow.

"How do you remember all this stuff?" Alice asks.

"I just do."

"Bella, you should come with us. You can be our tour guide," Alice suggests.

I resist the temptation to remind Alice that we don't need a tour guide. I have outlined our entire trip to Anchorage with alternative activities for them to choose from. I am sure they are not going to want to accompany me on a trolley tour and a trip to the Anchorage Museum.

"That sounds like fun," Isabella says, leaning into me.

Who am I to complain?

After bidding good night to the others, we arrive in front of Isabella's house and she unlinks her arm from mine, digging into the front pocket on her jeans and producing a key. "I locked the door before I left," she explains, smirking at me.

I smile at her as she struggles to get the key into the lock. It finally slides in and she pushes the door open, leaning against it, staring up at me. "Come in... please."

I shift on the porch, my fingers raking through my hair. "Isabella, I'm... I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?" she asks quietly.

"You've been through quite an ordeal tonight and I'm sure you would like to take some time by yourself."

"Actually, no. That's the last thing I want."

I take a shaky breath in. "I don't have anything with me, you know, to sleep in."

"Well, last night, you slept in your t-shirt and boxers. I'm assuming you have those on, unless you're going commando?" she asks, the amusement evident in her voice.

"I am most definitely not going commando." She smirks at me, her eyes drifting to my slacks. "I don't have a toothbrush or vitamins."

"I have both of those things. I just bought a new toothbrush the other day. It's pink, and I have those gummy bear vitamins," she says quickly.

"Gummy bear vitamins? Aren't they for children?"

She giggles. "I like how they taste. Listen, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. No pressure, okay? If you don't want to, then-"

"No. I want to, believe me, and it appears that I have run out of reasons why I shouldn't."

"Really?" she asks skeptically.

"Well, actually no, but I don't want to think about it, anymore. I would just like to come in."

BTN

"I'm just going to get changed," Isabella says while I shift nervously in her bedroom doorway. How is it possible that I feel simultaneously terrified and ecstatic? That seems to be how I'm feeling frequently since I've been here… since I've met her.

"Changed?" I ask warily.

"Yeah... you know, pajamas?"

Of course, right. I take a deep breath while she goes into bathroom adjacent to her room, shutting door. I hear the water turn on as I take in her room. It's a kaleidoscope of colours; vibrant purple walls and mismatched pictures of varying sizes, hanging up. The frames are all different colours and hold pictures of her with Charlie, and a woman, who I'm assuming must be her mother. I can see the resemblance.

There are two frames on the wall opposite her large picture window that catch my eye. I move to them, studying them closely. The first picture shows Isabella, holding up a large fish by the mouth as Charlie stands beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. The next one is a picture of her mother and her, sitting on the ground in front of a camp fire, laughing together.

I stare at them, acutely aware that I have no such pictures in my house. My parent's house is full of pictures, full of life. What am I doing with all of my memories?

My eyes fall to a small picture frame, outlined with daisies that sits on her nightstand. I pick it up, furrowing my brow when I see it is a picture of Leah, Jacob, and Isabella, laughing on the dock in front of his plane. I turn the picture away from the bed to face the window. I would rather not sleep knowing a photo of Jacob was beside me.

"How do you sleep in here? It's so... distracting," I say.

I hear her chuckle from behind the door. "I like it... I like waking up and feeling energized. Who wants to lie in bed all day long, anyway?"

Me. With you. The thought comes to me unbidden while I begin to fidget. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I wander from the pictures to the aging dresser in the corner of her room that is strewn with photos, some in frames, some tucked into the mirror.

There is a black t-shirt peeking out of the bottom draw, and I see bright, pink lace, trailing from one of the top drawers. It is most clearly one of her undergarments, and I feel myself flush... almost the colour of the lace that is tempting me.

"Tell me about your room, at home," she calls to me from behind the door. I turn from the dresser, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window. Yes... do not look at the lingerie.

"There's not much to tell. Its beige and empty, I suppose you could say." I rake my fingers through my hair.

"Why?" she asks.

"All I do is sleep there, and I don't like to be distracted."

"And this is distracting?" she asks. I hear the door to the bathroom open and I get up from the bed, turning towards her, my breath catching. She's wearing a grey tank top and grey shorts that are extremely... revealing. Her legs are like ivory alabaster, glowing almost in the subdued light that bounces from the yellow lamp shade.

"Well, mostly youare distracting. I'm sure that would be case whether there were purple walls or not," I whisper.

"Don't you like it?" she asks, and I'm not sure if we're talking about the walls anymore.

I wet my lip, taking a shaky breath in. "I do like it. More than I should."

She moves to the bed while I stand, rooted in my spot. "The bathroom is free, if you want to—"

"Of course. Yes, I'll just… right." My brain finally kicks in and I remember how to walk, moving quickly to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I lean against the door, my breathing accelerated while I try to calm down.

I move to the vanity, taking off my glasses and turning on the cold water. I hold my hands under it and splash some in my face, peering up at the mirror. What am I doing? This is dangerous… highly dangerous, given my growing feelings for Isabella and the short amount of time I have left to spend with her.

I try to ignore that thought as my eyes fall to the vanity and the bright pink toothbrush that she's left out for me. It's still in the package, and although it is not the brand I would normally use, I open it, placing the wrapping into the garbage. She's left out a tube of Crest toothpaste, which I have to squeeze with all of my might to get a dollop out of. While Crest is the brand I use, I've never tried this Cinnamon Rush flavour.

My mouth is practically on fire as I start to brush. This is certainly not your typical Crest; it's strange and refreshing. I finish brushing, rinsing my mouth out and cleaning out the sink with a fresh hand towel that she's left on the counter.

I run my fingers through my hair before removing my tie and unbuttoning my shirt. I fold the shirt, setting it on the vanity. I take off my slacks, folding them, as well, and then ball my socks up together, placing them on top of the clothes. It feels unsettling to not hang everything up, but I don't dare ask for a hanger. How would that sound to her?

I find the bottle of Gummy Vites on the counter, chuckling at the picture of the bear on the front, and the caption reading "Best Tasting!" on the label. I open the bottle and select one red and one yellow bear, feeling a bit ridiculous as I chew them up. They are surprisingly good, certainly better than the "horse pills," as Emmett calls them, which I take.

Taking a deep breath, I put my glasses back on and open the door. She's already lying down on her side, her head propped up by her hand, smiling at me. "Did you like the vitamins?"

"They were surprisingly good," I admit, moving to the bed.

She blinks up at me, lifting the purple comforter. "You're going to join me, right?"

Good Lord. This woman is going to be the death of me. "Um… do you… never mind," I stammer, sitting tentatively on the side of the bed, my back away from her.

"Hey." She sits up, her arm trailing to my shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course. It's just been quite an evening for me."

"For me, too," she says. "Oh shit. I know! I'm on the right side, that's your side. Here." She pulls the covers all the way back, moving over and settling down onto the left side of the bed.

"You remembered I like the right side?" I ask, staring down at her in disbelief.

"Yeah." I remove my glasses, setting them on the nightstand and stretch out beside her. She inches her way closer to me, her head resting against my shoulder. "Is this okay?" she asks quietly.

"It's better than okay," I manage, shutting my eyes and breathing her in.

I can feel the warmth of her breath against my shoulder. I can hear her breathing; steady and slow. I feel her body relax and melt against mine as I adjust the soft cotton sheets around us.

I can't believe I'm here… in her room, with her beside me. It's like some dream that I don't want to wake up from.

Maybe that's what this trip is for me; a dream, a fantasy, because in my reality, in my world, women like Isabella do not ask awkward and nervous men like me to stay with them.

It makes no sense whatsoever to me, but then, this whole trip has been that way. From the airplane ride when we first got here, to the hike, from the northern lights to my surreal encounter with James. None of it was in the plan, and I'm starting to realize that maybe the plan wasn't all that I thought it was.

Her breathing slows, and she lets out a quiet sigh. She settles further into my shoulder, and even though I am dangerously out of my element, this feels comforting and real. I close my eyes and let the night take me.

Chapter end notes:

So, a turning point for our Edward as he confronts James and all of his demons from the past.

Thoughts?

Ever try Cinnamon Rush Crest? Give it a go, if you haven't. Numberward would be proud.

Twitter: CarLemon