A/N: Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks for reading, and for reviewing.

EPOV

She got in the car.

As badly as things had gone in the hospital, as much of a jerk as I had acted toward her, Bella still got in the car. I had felt her pulling away when we had walked out of the building. I had felt her considering her veto as we drew closer to the car. I could see the request to be taken home in her eyes when she looked up at me when I opened her door for her. But I didn't want her to go. I didn't want to be separated from her. Not now. And I could feel that need in my gaze as I looked down at her. I'm sure my eyes practically begged her not to ask me to take her home. Very manly. But I couldn't help it. The thought of her leaving me now was… painful.

She looked up into my eyes as I held her door. She swallowed hard and looked away. Then, when she looked back at me, her expression had changed. And she didn't say a word as she slid into the car.

My chest felt tight when she did. Not the same kind of pain as the thought of taking her back to Forks and driving home without her, but a different kind of clenching right in the center of my chest. I shut the door behind her and rounded the car to my own door. I had to stand there for a second to collect myself. It took several flexes of my jaw and a few deep breaths before I trusted myself enough to get into the car with her. And when I finally did, I closed my eyes and allowed myself one long moment to just… feel.

I soaked in her electricity. Her warmth. She was so warm in the seat beside me. And I swore I would never wind the windows down in my car again if I could just keep the scent of freesia and strawberries exactly the way it was right now.

Bella didn't speak. She sat patiently while I calmed myself enough to open my eyes again. When I finally looked at her, she was watching me. I braced myself for the reaction I'd had in the hospital. The anger. The defensiveness. Not wanting her to see as much as she did. But it didn't happen.

She didn't say anything. She didn't even offer a sympathetic smile. Somehow she seemed to know that that would irritate me. Instead, she simply cocked her head, taking in some aspect of me, then she glanced out the windshield toward the front of the hospital.

I felt the pressure building in my chest again. I had to get away from here. I turned the key quickly in the ignition and punched the car into reverse a little too abruptly. Bella's head jerked toward me. Still, she didn't comment. She simply put on her seatbelt as I raced out of the parking lot.

The farther I got from the hospital, the more relaxed I felt. I started driving more normal speeds. My fingers loosened on the steering wheel. And I was able to notice Bella's fingers twisting her wolf charm again. When my fingers twitched toward hers in response, I knew that I was nearly over the hospital fiasco.

Just in time.

I looked over at Bella as I turned down a street where the houses got increasingly bigger. She was gazing out the window with a small frown that brought out that little crease between her eyebrows. I wondered absently how secure the wolf charm was on her bracelet. I knew that she already was nervous being alone with me. I didn't know how she would react when she saw where I was taking her. But I didn't want to take her anywhere else.

And it was a little late to tell her now.

I pulled into the driveway and shot a fast glance over at her. Her eyes widened and I swore she mouthed the words "Holy shit" as she stared out the windshield. My heart gave a raw pound. I knew that reaction. Carlisle's mansion, Carlisle's money... It all was being calculated in her head. I waited almost painfully for her to speak.

"You. Live. Here?" she murmured finally.

Her words came out strangely, as though she were trying to make them fit in that order but couldn't seem to make it work in her head. I frowned a little. "Yeah," I muttered, hating Carlisle intensely for every dime he'd ever earned.

Her next whisper was so soft I could barely hear her. "Oh."

I glanced sharply at her. She hadn't looked away from the front of the house. But she wasn't gawking. She looked oddly... sad? I stared at her, trying to understand her reaction. She still didn't look at me when she added quietly, "It's nice."

Sure, I thought bitterly. Nice. Just seeing the damn house made her start putting up barriers. And it wasn't because I'd brought her home, either. Although the anxiety level probably wasn't helped any by my bringing her here. But I could tell it was something about the house itself that made her feel… insignificant? And that damn veto was back in her eyes.

I should have taken her to the park or something. Idiotic move to bring her here when she already was nervous. But I wanted to be alone with her, so no one could interrupt and take her away. And this was the only place I could think of where I wouldn't have to worry about distractions.

But it would have been nice to have gotten one thing right with her today. Just one. Bringing her home clearly wasn't going to be it.

"Yeah," I said lowly. "It's all right." I shot the house a dark glare and climbed out of the car. Bella didn't move as I rounded the front of the car to get her door. That wasn't a good sign. She wasn't waiting for me to open the door for her. She was staring at the house. And hesitating.

I stood for a moment with my jaw clenched, holding her door open and waiting. I was just about to ask if she wanted me to take her back to the school when she suddenly swung her legs out of the car and stood beside me. A little uncertainly. But standing. And looking me squarely in the eye.

The veto was gone. For the moment.

I closed the car door behind her and thought I probably should escort her into the house somehow. But I wasn't sure how. Offering her my arm seemed ridiculous. I couldn't take her hand. I didn't really want to walk behind her or in front of her…. Ugh. Maybe I should just carry her. I considered that for a split second. Holding her in my arms. Her arms around my neck. Her head against my chest.

I motioned her toward the door and fell into step beside her. Casually.

She seemed to like the front porch. Something about it intrigued her. I caught her glancing from one end to the other as I unlocked the front door. The porch was long and wide, and probably could hold a swing or a few chairs, if Carlisle had been inclined to put some out. But neither of us cared to sit and talk, so the space was unused. Bella seemed to like the look of it, or maybe its potential, anyway.

When we stepped inside, those observant chocolate eyes skimmed over everything in sight. And immediately landed on the piano. She glanced at me quickly but didn't ask if it was mine. I thought of playing her song with her sitting beside me and felt my heart begin to speed. "You want anything?" I asked. "A drink? Something to eat?"

"No," she replied. "Thanks. I'm okay."

I nodded. "Okay. Well… This is the house." I made a grand motion with my hands. "Want a tour?"

She grinned a little. "Sure."

I led her through the downstairs. I watched her reaction in each room. She took in so much with those wide brown eyes. I wondered if anything escaped her notice. When we ended in the living room and she studied the piano again, I felt the urge to play for her again. But I pushed it away and led her to the second floor, wondering if she'd noticed my desire to play her song. And figuring she probably had.

"Carlisle's room. Carlisle's study. His library." I pointed out each room as we passed it on the second floor. I noticed her lingering at the door of his study and moved back to her side. "What is it?"

She was staring at the painting on the wall behind Carlisle's desk. It was a Hassam, I think, if I remembered what he'd told me. A city street at twilight in the early 1900s. "That's… That's an original."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Holy shit." Suddenly she looked over at me, embarrassed. "Sorry. But… Holy shit," she said again.

I wanted to chuckle at her enthusiasm, but I didn't want to offend her. I hoped my smile didn't seem mocking. But I couldn't help grinning at her reaction. "You can go look, if you want."

She looked up at me again, and I really had to fight the laughter then. The expression on her face was comical. She was torn. She clearly wanted to. But she shook her head. "No…. I don't want to invade his space. But thanks." She shot another lingering glance at the painting before moving past the door.

I passed her to resume the tour and paused at the foot of the stairs to the third floor. "The man lived alone until he adopted me. I'm not sure why he had this big a house. I guess that's what you do when you're rich, though…." I shook my head. "I shouldn't say anything bad about him like that. He does donate a lot of his money. And he works all the time. Not just at the hospital, but all over, helping out. But I just… I don't understand this house." I shrugged and gave Bella a quick grin. She smiled back and trailed me up the stairs.

I hesitated at the door of my room. I suddenly felt extremely awkward. Bella was about to walk into my bedroom.

I should have taken her to the damn park.

I took a deep breath as subtly as I could and motioned her into my room. "This is my room."

Bella glanced over at me. Then she took me completely by surprise by simply stepping past me like being in my bedroom was no big deal. I quickly followed her.

She looked around curiously. Her gaze skipped over the bed, the black leather couch – her eyebrows quirked a little there – the desk, the nightstand… I looked around, too. My room was relatively neat. Thankfully. Except for the white shirt I'd thrown in the corner the day before. I wondered if I could move it while she wasn't looking….

Her eyes landed on the tall bookshelf in the corner. Everything in her seemed to zero in on the spines of the novels there. I thought for a second that the number of books I owned may be cause for ridicule, but she seemed very interested in the shelves. Smart, I remembered. And judging from her body language and the glint in her eyes… "You like to read?"

She smiled a little. "Yes. When I can get a quiet moment to myself."

"So go ahead."

She spun to look back at me, surprised. "What?"

I nodded toward the bookshelf. "Read if you want."

"You didn't steal me away so I could read all day."

"No," I agreed. "I stole you away so we could spend the day together. And if you want to spend it reading, then that's what we'll do."

Bella turned back to my overloaded bookshelf. After a long moment, she murmured, "I don't deserve this."

Her voice was almost sad. I couldn't understand her tone. But I knew my answer. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. "No, you don't." When she glanced at me, her eyes were dark. Wounded. I added, "You deserve more. But this is a start."

She hesitated. Her eyes changed again, from wounded to something I couldn't read. I thought she wouldn't ask what she was thinking, but finally, she did. "Why…?"

I waited, but she didn't finish. "Why what?"

She took a breath and lifted her chin to look me in the eye. "Why do you think that of me? You barely know me."

I considered it. I didn't want to just answer. I wanted to give her the answer she wanted. "I'm a pretty good judge of people, Bella," I told her quietly. "But you… I can't read you. It's frustrating. But even though I can't figure you out? There is one thing I am sure of. You're worth it."

She stared at me for a long moment. Neither of us spoke. I had said much more than I'd intended. But there was something about her. Something in her made me just… say things that I never intended to say. I'd have said almost anything to get rid of the sadness in her voice a moment ago. But I'd only said what I'd been thinking. And I could tell she believed me. Even if she wasn't entirely comfortable with the praise, or sure what to do now.

Finally she turned and moved to the bookshelf. I quickly kicked the shirt under the couch. "I don't get to read much anymore," she commented as she scanned the titles. Her fingers ran reverently along the spines, skimming with a feather light touch. "Not since my stepsisters and stepmother moved in. It's never quiet enough."

I climbed up on the bed to watch her. "Do you like your stepfamily?"

She shrugged. "They haven't killed me in my sleep," she replied. "Yet."

"Well, that's a positive endorsement."

She snickered. "About as positive as it gets." Her hand ghosted over a few more books before suddenly freezing. Her lips curved. Carefully, she eased a book free of the rest and trailed her thumb over its cover. I could see it was an Austen work – Pride and Prejudice. Classics were her thing, then. I had expected that. She looked up at me suddenly and held up the novel. "Is this okay?"

"Of course." I motioned toward the third shelf. "Can you hand me Dracula?"

"Speaking of killing people in their sleep," she mused as she selected the book. I smiled as she moved to the bed to hand it to me.

My fingers brushed against hers. We both jerked a little. The jolt was like a burn. For a second, we both froze. Her skin was so warm. Then she slid her hand out from under mine and stepped back from the bed. Her cheeks tinted pink as she let her hair fall down around her face. Without a word, she moved to the couch and tucked herself into the corner.

For a long moment, I simply stared at her. She felt it, too. It still amazed me that she did. And I had no idea what it meant.

When she turned the page of her book, I finally opened mine. We read for a few minutes in silence. It was surprisingly comfortable. I'd never felt at ease with anyone in my room before. Even Emmett. And silences generally never lasted. But with Bella, the silences didn't feel heavy. They were calm. Soothing.

After about ten minutes, I noticed that she kept sneaking glances at something beside her on the couch as though something were tempting her but she was trying to resist. I followed her gaze to see that I had left my iPod there the night before. My mind raced to what I'd been listening to. Classical. I wondered if there was a way to get the iPod before she…

Picked it up.

She suddenly gave up resisting and reached over to pick up the iPod. I knew exactly what song I'd listened to last. The song to which I'd pictured her face last night. Clair de Lune. She pressed the button, and I cringed as she read the name of the song. The crease appeared slightly between her brows, and she glanced up at me, then back at the screen. When she looked at me again, she held up the headphones. "Do you mind?"

I wanted to gape at her. Somehow, I managed not to. "No… Do… You like Debussy?"

"I'm partial to Clair de Lune."

Holy. Crap.

She stood suddenly and shrugged out of her hoodie. My throat felt tight as I watched her. When she laid the jacket over the back of the couch, I tried not to stare. But her dark brown hair was a perfect contrast against the burgundy of her T-shirt, and now I could see the pale skin of her arms….

She still had a patch of gauze on her forearm, I realized suddenly. But it was a much smaller square. Her stab wound was healing.

And I could see the outline of her figure better now, which reminded me of the blue vest outfit from the Renaissance festival. Which made me remember what she'd looked like in the rain. Which… I needed to stop. I focused to see that she'd sat down again and put in only one headphone. And I suddenly noticed what her shirt said.

"Forks Police?"

"Oh." She glanced down at her shirt. "Yeah… My dad gave me this shirt."

"Your dad?"

"Charlie Swan. He's the chief of police."

I stared. Swallowed. "I kidnapped the chief of police's daughter."

Bella grinned. "Technically it wasn't a kidnapping. I got in the car."

"True." I nodded slowly. "I hope he'd listen to that before he shot me."

She laughed quietly. "He doesn't really carry his gun that much. You probably wouldn't be in danger." Her laugh faded. "Not that he would know I was gone, anyway."

I frowned. I didn't like the look in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

She kept her eyes on the iPod. "He's not home much." She chewed on her lower lip, calling my attention to that perfectly imbalanced mouth of hers, and I almost was distracted before she added, "Kind of like Carlisle, I guess. Works a lot."

She wanted to change the subject. So I did. "Speaking of Carlisle… The painting in his office. You like Hassam?" I asked, hoping I had the right name.

Her eyes lit a little, and I knew that I'd gotten it right. All of it. "I like his cities," she said. "Paris, Boston, New York. When he painted people in the streets and parks. The rest of his work I'm not as into. But ones like the one downstairs… I like those."

She knew a lot about this guy. I took a guess. "You paint?"

She looked embarrassed. "No. I don't paint."

And the way she answered led me to my next guess. "But you do artwork?"

She hesitated. "I draw."

Aha. An artist. "What do you draw?"

"People, mostly." Bella fiddled with the iPod. "The way I see them, anyway." She looked up at me suddenly. "You have a lot of classical music. The piano is yours, isn't it."

Damn. Somehow she always managed to throw me off. I'd just been wondering if she'd drawn me, and now she had me back to thinking about my composition about her. And playing it with her sitting next to me. Warm and close against my side. "Um… Yeah. It's mine."

Her brown eyes were taking in my reactions again. "Do you play a lot?"

"I used to," I answered honestly. I wanted to tell her I'd just started composing again. When I'd met her. For her. I wanted to play her song for her. But I clenched my jaw and kept my mouth shut. I'd already said more than I'd intended today. There was no way I was telling her I'd composed a song about her practically the day I'd met her. After I hadn't played a single note for two years.

Because that wouldn't make her scream "veto" at all.

"Hm," she mused. Her eyes dropped back to the iPod in her hand. But not before she had taken in something about me. I wondered what it was.

Suddenly she got up and headed to my bookshelf again, taking the iPod with her. I observed her from my position on the bed as she scanned through the spines a second time. It pleased me, a lot, that she seemed so comfortable now in my room. With me. I grinned to myself, enjoying the warm feeling in my chest as I watched her ponder the titles. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, giving me a better view of her face as she frowned a little in concentration. So cute.

She selected another book. Another classic. She was honed in on my school section. This time it was a Bronte. Wuthering Heights. Her small smile as she flipped to a page toward the middle told me how much she loved that particular work. She didn't even have to start at the beginning.

As she turned the pages, she stepped over to the window and glanced out. Something caught her attention and she leaned a little closer to the glass. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I smiled at her. "I kidnapped you. I suppose it's only fair."

"Your big friend Emmett." I frowned, wondering where this was going. "Do you want him to know I'm here?"

"I don't…" I trailed off, at a loss, then I suddenly understood. "He's here," I growled. I jumped to my feet. He would ruin everything if he found Bella here. "Dammit."

Bella looked back at me from the window. Her face was unreadable. "He just pulled up."

I stared at her for a second, trying to understand her expression. When she turned her back to me to face the window again, I figured it out. And my heart sank. "Bella, I'm not ashamed of you," I assured her. "At all. It's just… It would not be good for you if Emmett knew you were here alone with me. Trust me on that. Please."

For a moment she stared out the window. Then she finally turned to face me again. Her tiny smile sent relief soaring through me. "You better get downstairs, then. He's almost inside."

I smiled widely. "I'll be right back. I promise." I started to leave but paused in the door to look back at her. "Anything you want." I motioned around the room. "Feel free." And I raced downstairs to catch Emmett before he started up to my room.

The big idiot was just coming in the front door when I hit the bottom of the stairs. He looked at me suspiciously when I appeared in front of him. I returned the look. "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"It's lunchtime," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I came to see if you were still sulking."

"And to steal food," I muttered as he headed for the kitchen.

"Yeah," he replied casually. He opened the refrigerator and helped himself to bread, lunchmeat, and cheese. "So are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Still sulking?" He cocked a brow at me over his sandwich-making operation. "You don't seem to be. You seem kind of… happy." He slapped an extra few pieces of turkey on his bread, considered, then added another slice of cheese. "What are you up to?"

"Listening to classical music. Looking at classic art. Reading classic literature."

As expected, Emmett's face screwed up in disgust. He picked up his sandwich and headed for the door. "Later, dude."

I tried not to smirk as I shut the door behind him. I glanced at the clock to see that it was lunchtime. Emmett had left all the ingredients on the counter. I hurried into the kitchen to make two sandwiches.

I couldn't wait to get back upstairs.