Okay so this is weird. It's been so long since I last posted that when I sat down to continue the story, I was utterly baffled as to where I left off. I ended reading the whole thing again before actually writing this chapter ahaha! Anyway, I hope this has been worth the wait and I promise there will be more very soon! Love always, Gaby.

I'd had a good day today. The first in a while actually. I couldn't stop my self from smiling slightly as I danced around the kitchen, making dinner for myself and Alice. I was thinking about mediocore, ordinary, teenage things like homework and parties and it felt nice. It felt relaxed; for once my brain wasn't buzzing with anxiety.

Not once had any agonisingly cringe-worthy or upsetting thoughts entered my mind about Emmett or Edward through the course of the day, instead I had the information that Emmett was too drunk to know what he was doing with Jess and as for Edward? Well I hadn't seen him all day which was a good start. I didn't want to see him.

The way he had left the other day unnerved me a little; the way he stroked my cheek and looked deep into my eyes with those serious, glimmering greens. The thought of that warm gaze made me shiver and that really did unsettle me. It was as if my body needed him with such a strong urge that it was forced to involuntarily convulse at the very thought of him.

Did I have feelings for Edward?

I shrugged the thought away, it was impossible. How could I have feelings for Edward when everytime I thought about Emmett, my insides began to melt and I felt a little bit weak in the knees? It just wouldn't make sense.

Shaking my head, I stirred the Carbonara I was making for dinner with one hand and reached across the work top to turn up the radio with the other. For some reason, I was really eager to have a girly night in with Alice. I'd even made her favourite dish to try and coax her away from Jasper for once. Hopefully she would stay.

A song I was into came on, on the radio and I grinned to myself as I began dancing terribly around the kitchen.

"Something smells good."

I dropped my wooden spoon as a low, velvet voice startled me out; it came out of no where.

Looking towards the door, my breath caught in my chest. I took in the long, lean frame and dark, designer clothes of the figure before me and immediately my eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Well you don't have to give me that look." Edward said, his face falling.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, already exasperated with his presence.

He shrugged and hoisted him self up onto the counter.

"Just thought I'd stop by," he said softly. I glared at him. "You know, come to apologise again." He added.

I sighed and turned back to my cooking, "I don't want to hear your apologies OK?" I shrugged, "whats done is done, you're an asshole and I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

He hopped off of the counter and came towards me.

"You can't just call me an asshole and expect me to be alright with it Bella." He reasoned, now standing too close.

I took the pan off the heat and turned towards him, arms folded. As far as I was concerned, he should be alright with it.

"Look, I'm sorry about the other night but haven't even let me explain."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting. He wanted to explain? Well, this was his chance to explain whatever it was he thought I needed explaining to me.

"I didn't use you."

That wasn't enough, I knew he was going to say that. I waited for more, a heavy silence falling between us; the only sound being the gentle bubbling of the ingredients cooking away in the pan.

"When I said I was glad you were drunk when we fooled around," he paused, running a hand through his caramel coloured hair, "I don't know, I didn't mean it like that."

He looked at me for some sort of sign of approval but that could have meant anything. I waited, still saying nothing.

"I meant, I was glad because I know that you didn't actually mean it and I'm not getting any confusing mixed signals OK? It just stops things from being awkward. I mean, imagine if we'd both been sober."

I looked at the floor; he had a point.

If we'd both been sober, this conversation would probably be very different. It would probably consist of the two of us discussing wether we still had feelings for eachother or not. I mean, sure, I was asking myself that very question no less than ten minutes ago but I sure as hell was glad I didn't have to discuss it with Edward.

I sighed and his face lifted into a smile.

"I can see that you understand Bella, so lets leave it at that." He said, smiling that crooked smile he knew I loved.

"Yes, I guess I see your point." I said. "It's good that we were drunk."

He continued to look at me intently, one eye brow raised as if he was waiting for me to say something else.

"What?"

He remained silent, just looking at me; a small, mischevious smile played about his lips.

I rolled my eyes, "Jesus Christ, fine, I take it back, you're not an asshole."

He grinned and took a step away from me, leaving us at a far less awkward proxemity than before. "Brilliant." He laughed, leaning back against the work top and peering at my spaghetti dish.

"What's this?" He asked, gesturing towards it.

"Carbonara, it's Alice's favourite." I shrugged before looking at him quizzically, "she's your sister, surely you should know that?"

He shrugged, "it looks good." He lifted his arm so he could dip his finger into the sauce. I slapped it away.

"I don't think so."

He pouted at me and widened his eyes like a child who had just been told off. Well, I suppose that's what he was.

I laughed at his pathetic little expression and he laughed with me.

"Come on, just a little taster?" He chuckled, winking at me.

Shaking my head, I continued to laugh and got on with my cooking whilst he sat on the side, swinging his legs and chatting away about meaningless things. It was amazing how he could make the meaningless things sound interesting with his low, intellectual voice.

I listened to everything he had to say, answered his questions, threw in my own anicdote or joke now and again.

The conversation came to a lull and we looked at eachother, I smiled and looked away but I could still feel the weight of his gaze on the side of my face.

At that moment, it felt like I'd been thrown 2 years into the past; laughing and talking and messing around with Edward. It was like when we were dating. That familiar moment where a silence fills the room and the tension hanging in the air is so heavy, you find it difficult to breathe. All he had to do now was walk away from the counter and advance towards me, biting his lip with dark, lustful eyes like he used to.

I blinked the thought out of my mind as the room quickly shifted back to Edward leant casually against the counter. He was still looking at me though; I cleared my throat and nervously pushed a lock of wavy, brown hair behind my ear.

I breathed a small sigh of relief that he wasn't coming towards me with that look on his face but I couldn't ignore the tiny part of me that felt a little bit dissappointed.

Looking up at him again, I bit my lip. Did I want this? Did I want Edward?

"Oh hell no Bella," he said all of sudden, "don't look at me like that."

I jumped back slightly, and blinked a few times. How had I been looking at him?

He was rubbing his face in what looked like exhaustion and heading for the door.

"Edward," I chuckled nervously, "what are you talking about?"

He turned back towards me, "your eyes went all cloudy and dark and you were biting your lip." He shook his head, "I know what that look means Bella, I dated you for over a year; I recognise it."

I didn't know what to say, I hadn't realised that my face gave out such obvious signs of how I felt. My cheeks began to glow a soft rose.

Edward took a few more steps towards me until we were standing chest to chest. He leant down and cupped my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm not going to do this now." He growled, his voice dark and laced with a sensual edge I tried to ignore. "Sort things out with Emmett, but Bella," he paused, "I'll always be here if it doesn't work out you know."

He stroked my cheek and gazed further into my eyes, "I never really left."

With that, he grazed his silky lips against mine, turned away and walked out the door; leaving me standing, shell shocked in the middle of my kitchen with nothing but a wooden spoon clasped to my chest.