A/N: I hope everyone had a nice Valentine's Day weekend. Mr. PattyRose and I enjoyed it thoroughly. ;)

Loved reading your thoughts on the last chapter. Despite the angst I may put you all through, I'm a die-hard romantic at heart. ;)

Betad by Michelle Renker Rhodes.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer

Chapter 14 - How Addiction Begins

EPOV

"'Bout time," Jasper greeted me as soon as he opened the door. "What took you so long?"

"Dude, the guy who was supposed to cover my shift at the bar was late."

"Alright, alright," Jasper smirked. "Hurry up; we've been waiting for you. Alice is getting ready to cut the cake."

I rushed past him and into the kitchen of Alice and Jasper's small apartment in Queens. Mel, in a frilly, pink dress and sparkly crown, was standing on one of the kitchen chairs, next to a cake shaped like a Princess. The rest of our family - Alice, Rose, Royce and their baby daughter, Rachel, as well as Jasper's buddy, Emmett, were there as well.

As soon as Mel spotted me, she jumped off of the chair and ran straight into my arms, her crown wobbling down onto her forehead, big, blue eyes wide and excited.

"Uncle Edward, you made it!"

"Of course I made it," I grinned, pushing the crown back in place and kissing her raised brow. "You think I'd miss your seventh birthday?"

We sang Happy Birthday and blew out pink candles, and then Mel opened her presents. She had this princess obsession going on, so before coming over I'd run into the toy store and bought her a couple of Princess dolls. One of them looked friggin' just like her with the black hair and blue eyes.

"You sure know how to make her happy, but you didn't have to buy her anything, Edward," Alice whispered while we watched Mel go to town with the wrapping paper. "Just you being here is enough for her. She was getting anxious."

"'Course I'm here," I shrugged. "Have I ever missed her birthday?"

"No, you haven't," Alice agreed, smiling at me with so much gratitude it was embarrassing. "You're always here for her, Edward."

I rolled my eyes, and she chuckled.

"Anyway, I thought you'd bring your girlfriend."

"What girlfriend?" I snorted.

"Jasper said he saw you with some girl last time he was at your place."

"That's not a girlfriend," I smirked.

Alice stared at me.

"What? Look, she's not worth bringing around here. She's not…someone I'd want around Mel."

"If she's not worth it, then why, Edward? You're so much better than those kinds of…relationships."

Despite the question, there was no judgment in her tone. There never was. And anyway, I had no response. So I kept my eyes on my niece, watching her play with her new toys.

Once Mel was in bed, Emmett left, and I helped clean up. And then I swung my jacket back on.

"Where are you going?" Jasper asked.

"I've got some friends waiting for me."

"I was hoping you'd stay with us tonight."

I looked around the room. Everyone was suddenly staring at me.

And I knew what staying at Jasper and Alice's meant. Jasper didn't buy alcohol. He didn't allow it in his house, and besides, I could never drink around Mel. I never had, and I never would.

But it'd been a few hours…

"Maybe next time." I headed for the door.

"Edward." It was a tone I rarely heard from Jasper. Authoritative. Commanding. He wasn't simply my brother when he used that tone.

With a deep breath, I turned around and met Jasper's steady gaze.

"This is getting serious. We're seeing you less and less."

I scrubbed a hand down my face. "Been busy."

"You look pale."

"I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth. "Just tired."

"I don't think your working as a bartender is the best idea either."

"It's a job. Make good tips," I shrugged.

Jasper sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Look, just…stay tonight, alright?"

"Not tonight," I shook my head.

"You can't stop, Edward," Rose hissed. "That's why you won't stay with Jasper. You haven't had a drink in a few hours and now your fiending. You won't admit it, but you can't stop."

"I can stop whenever I want. What do you think I am, an Alckie?" I snickered. "Some sort of addict, like Dad?"

"You're just like Dad, but-"

"Rose!" Alice said, cutting off my sister. "Enough."

And like her husband, it was a tone she rarely used, but when she did, everyone listened. She crossed the room to me, reaching out and taking my hand.

"You're not like your father; you don't run. Neither you nor Jasper run. So stay, Edward...for Mel and me. Stay."

I swallowed thickly, my throat beginning to ache, dry and scratchy, but the way Alice looked at me…the trust in her eyes…

Slowly, I peeled off my jacket and threw it across the couch.

From across the room, I heard Jasper's sigh of relief.

"Come on, little brother," he grinned, "You got this. Just one step at a time, bro."

OOOOOOOOOO

"I've got to go," she says, and then ends the call.

"Bella?"

Wait, was she talking to me or to her date?

Fuck, I don't know.

I rake a hand through my hair, cursing myself as I do because now it's all a mess again. Heart in my hands, I watch her from the curb, across the street from the upscale restaurant to which the fucker in the three-piece suit brought her.

She's talking to him; smiling, and never in my life have I wanted to have super hearing or read minds as badly as I do now.

Three-Piece-Suit fucker is nodding - but it could be a "Good-job-at-getting-rid-of-the-fucker-on-the-phone" nod, or it could be an "I-understand-completely-if-you-don't-feel-well-and-just-want-to-go-home," nod, so it doesn't tell me much.

And then Bella reaches out and puts one of her hands over the guy's hand, and my chest constricts.

But then she stands up, and the guy stands up, and she wraps something around her shoulders, and the guy comes around the table and plants a kiss on her cheek, and fuck, what's going on? What the hell is going on?

Bella picks up her purse and starts walking.

Three-Piece-Suit asshole watches her go - with this really pitiful look on his face.

And I may or may not be sporting the biggest shit-eating grin this side of Manhattan.

While she stands at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change, I release a steadying breath through narrowed lips, craving a smoke, but I don't want cigarette breath tonight.

This is Bella running towards me, and tonight I'm going to kiss the hell out of her if it's the last thing I do.

"Come on, little brother, you got this," I imagine Jasper saying, patting my shoulder encouragingly, grinning my way.

"I got this; I got this," I chant quietly.

She crosses the street, taking a few quick steps while her long, dark hair flutters in the breeze, and I can already smell her perfume: that scent that's like flowers blended with honey and only hers. When she's close enough, I reach out for her hand because I can't hold back anymore. I can't resist her, and I won't.

She stops and looks up at me and neither one of us bothers to be discreet about the fact that we're checking one another out. She's got a shawl thing wrapped around her shoulders, so I can't see them now, but I saw her dress before when I was watching her with the Three-Piece-Suit asshole. It's a strapless number that hugs her curves; sexy, but not skin-tight…not like those girls I vaguely remember from…before. Her legs look like they stretch for miles and miles, long and so fucking shapely and hot in those heels. I've never seen her in heels, and I'm breathless and dizzy.

Our eyes finally meet.

"Hey…I'm Edward Cullen."

"Hey…I'm Bella Swan…and I really like that leather jacket on you," she grins. "And that sweater and shirt. And those pants."

"Thanks. I already told you how beautiful you look tonight."

"Yes, you did - in the middle of my date, no less," she adds wryly.

"I'd apologize, but I'm not really sorry."

"Then don't apologize."

Silence. We stand there staring at each other, but it's not uncomfortable. It's not uncomfortable at all. It's like…this feeling of woozy anticipation deep in my gut and a thousand times more real than any sensation I ever got from a bottle.

She smiles brightly at me, perfect white teeth contrasting with honey skin, and then she squeezes my hand.

"Alright, then, Mr. Cullen. You managed to get me to venture out here with you. Shall we get started? I'm giving you until midnight, and it's…" - she checks her watch - "nine-thirty."

"Until midnight to what?" I ask, trying to blink away the spell she puts me under every. single. time.

"To convince me," she grins, arching her perfect eyebrows teasingly.

"Oh, yeah," I smirk. "Until midnight? Okay, so…where would you like to go?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" she laughs, sounding so damn carefree and excited I just want to kiss her right now and the hell with convincing her.

"That's not how this is going to work. This was your idea; you tell me where we're going. Or beyond crashing my date, did you not plan that far ahead?"

I've barely been able to think straight since I found out she was going on a date.

"I guess I should've planned ahead."

She chuckles, and though she waits patiently, she's not going to make this too easy on me.

"Well…since you already ate, I suppose dinner is out of the question?"

"It is," she grins mischievously.

"Hmm," I ponder thoughtfully, rubbing my chin with my thumb. I don't miss the way she bites her bottom lip while she watches me, and it thrills me. Fuck, I need to kiss her.

"Have you had dessert?"

"No," she chuckles again. "And just to help you out here, I love dessert. I love sweets. They're my weakness."

"Your weakness, huh? Do you like chocolate?"

"I love chocolate!" she confesses, bouncing enthusiastically on those fucking heels.

"Alright then, I may have an idea."

When I move in closer to her, I hear her slight intake of breath, and her eyes grow wide.

She wants to be kissed. I know she does. But once I kiss her, I won't be able to stop, and…

And there's so much she doesn't fucking know, so much she deserves to know, so much she has to know before one kiss leads to another, and before…before I can't imagine one day going by without her.

"One step at a time, little brother," I hear Jasper say. "You just have to take it one step at a time."

"One step at a time," I hear Carlisle say, like he has so many times over the past few months.

One step at a time.

I place my hand on the small of her back. "Shall we, Miss Swan?"

Her mouth curls up into a soft grin. "We shall."

Side by side, we silently walk back to my truck, parked half a block away. It's cool out, but considering it's mid-November, it's not too bad at all tonight, and what's more, the heat of her body next to mine has me burning.

When I open the truck door to help her in, she puts her soft hand on my forearm, bestowing on me another one of her beautiful smiles; the ones for me, not the ones she gave me earlier this week.

"I got this," I remind myself quietly as I walk over to the driver's side.

"So where are we going?" she asks once I turn the truck on.

"Nope," I grin, my eyes on the side-view mirror while I pull out of the parking space, "you wouldn't tell me where you wanted to go, so now it's a surprise."

"Lucky for you, I happen to love surprises! Speaking of which, how did you know…" She trails off and smirks. "Angie!"

I chortle aloud. "Yup."

"I'd say I'm going to kill her, but I'm not," she admits.

I glance over at her, and for two seconds, we're locked in each other's eyes, and with a strangely…light and refreshing feeling, a feeling like maybe the world is full of possibilities…I drive us off.

OOOOOOOOOO

We keep things light and simple in the truck, yet all the while I'm hyper aware of every move she makes: when she shifts from side to side, when she crosses one leg over the other, and her dress rides up a bit, exposing her legs just above her knees. I've got to keep my eyes on the windshield even though I can feel her heat and my hands twitching to reach out, to touch her warmth and make sure she's really here.

"So what'd you tell the jerk in the three-piece?"

She chuckles. "I told him I had a hot guy waiting outside for me with a better offer."

"Whoa." I jerk my head back in surprise, and she laughs.

"No, not really. That would be pretty mean, don't you think? Poor guy, I told him the truth: he seemed like a nice guy, but I didn't see it going anywhere. He was actually really decent. He could've been a jerk about it."

I nod. "So that first thing you said wasn't true then?" I ask, side-glancing and teasing her like she teased me about the midnight deadline.

"Which part? The part about the hot guy or the part about the better offer?"

"Both."

"The part about the hot guy I'm not answering, as for the better offer…" – out of my periphery, I see her head turn my way, and I feel the burn of her gaze – "…well that's what I'm here to find out."

I let out a low chuckle. "Fair enough."

There's a bit of traffic driving down Union Square, and my fingers tap a restless beat over the steering wheel while I wait for the cars to move.

"I think Mel was a bit upset at me tonight," she says.

I give her another quick sideways glance and frown. "What makes you say that?"

Out of my periphery, I see her shrug, and it reminds me of how bare her shoulders are under that sweater.

"She had a bit of an attitude with me."

I shake my head. "Don't take it personally. She always has a bit of an attitude going on. Actually…I may have been in a bit of a…bad mood myself this morning, and it may have rubbed off on her."

"Why were you in a bad mood this morning?"

Once more, I glance over her way quickly. I can't help it though I know I should keep my eyes on the windshield.

"Let's just say I wasn't looking forward to tonight."

"You weren't?" she asks, her voice startled and…slightly hurt, and I realize what she's thinking. I've put my foot in my mouth again.

"I mean that I wasn't looking forward to your tonight," I clarify. "To your…date." I enunciate with a smirk. "This tonight, however..."

"Oh. Oh," she chuckles. "Okay. How did you know I had a date?"

"A little birdie with long black hair and blue eyes told me."

"Mel," she laughs.

"Mel," I confirm. "She just…had to dig that in there, you know?"

She lets out another sweet laugh. "No, I don't think she told you to dig in anything, Edward. She loves you!"

"Pfft," I snort. "You should've seen her this morning."

"Oh, I've seen the attitude come out, believe me," she chortles. "But she worships you, Edward. I've seen that too. And I've heard it when she talks about you."

"What does she say?" I ask a little too quickly because I know she wouldn't. Mel and I have never actually discussed it, but I just know she wouldn't.

"Nothing in particular. I can just…tell how much you mean to her," Bella says softly.

We weren't too far from our destination, so I'm already parking the truck again. We're a couple of blocks away, but it's as close a parking space as I'm likely to get. I put the truck in park, my hand resting over the stick shift, and with a deep sigh, look over at Bella again, finally able to keep my eyes on her.

"Can we try something?" I ask quietly.

She shrugs her shoulders, smiling, and God, I want to rip that shawl right off and see those pretty, bare shoulders up close.

"Let's try not to talk about Mel right now, not just yet."

Because if we talk about Mel, then we have to talk about so much more.

"Okay," she nods slowly.

"Okay. Are you ready?"

She nods more enthusiastically.

"Let's go."

OOOOOOOOOO

She convinces me to order a fondue bowl for two, and I'm more than a bit relieved when she doesn't offer to pay or even go halves.

After a few minutes, we manage to find a cozy table for two and wait while our small pot of melted chocolate is placed before us, surrounded by a plateful of graham crackers, marshmallows, bananas and peanut butter.

And then we're dipping all these things into the hot pot of melted chocolate; rather, she is. I'm not really into dipping shit into chocolate, but she's laughing while she makes these small sandwiches with all the ingredients and dips them, moaning and rolling her eyes when she takes a bite. The restaurant is pretty dark and noisy and warm, so she takes off the shawl, and there are those shoulders – those bare, honey-toned shoulders with a few birthmarks scattered here and there, and I'm hypnotized, but I have to look away. Either way, through all the noise and bullshit and hoopla going on around us, she's all I see; her voice and laughter is all I hear. There's something about this moment, about sitting here with her that I could get addicted to real easy. I know I can. Just like I know I have no right. But she's here laughing and talking and spending time with me, and I can't pretend anymore that I'm not addicted.

So she dips a graham cracker into the chocolate because I tell her that's the only thing here I may like dipped in chocolate, and she holds it up to my mouth. I take the offered cracker drenched in chocolate, and chew it and look at her, and she looks at me, and I don't want a drink, I don't want a smoke, and that's how I know I'm addicted.

OOOOOOOOOO

I ask her if she'd mind taking a walk down to Union Square Park a couple of blocks away, and she says she'd love a walk, especially after that dessert. She says it's going to go to all the wrong places, and I tell her the truth: that there are no wrong places on her. She looks down and I think I've done the foot-in-mouth thing again, but even in the dark I see the blush spreading, and I know I'm okay – so far.

Then I ask her if she's cold, even though she's got that shawl thing around her shoulders again, and she says not really, which I can tell means yes, so I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders even though that's just adding more layers. God, I want to touch those shoulders.

"Thanks for bringing me here; I loved it," she chuckles. "I'd always heard about this place, but I've never been here. Have you?"

We're slowly strolling down Broadway, side by side. Our hands keep bumping into each other, knuckles brushing against knuckles, and I have no idea what the standard operating procedure is here. When you meet a girl at a bar or even at a club sometimes, you don't take her to Max Brenner's for dessert. You don't take a leisurely stroll with her down a noisy, city street. You don't wonder if she wants you to hold her hand. When you're a plastered motherfucker, you take them to the back, or to an alley, or back to her place, or yours. When your next door neighbor is your fuck-buddy, you knock on her door, she lets you in, you fuck her and leave. That's what I know.

"No. My sister-in-law used to rave about it. I think my brother brought her once or twice, and she fell in love with it. He was supposed to bring her again, but it just never happened."

"Oh."

We reach the intersection of Broadway and Union Square, and it's teeming with cars, cabs and pedestrians all trying to get to different places at the same time. When the light turns green, I reach out and take her hand and help her cross because it's a crazy intersection and because I can't not touch her anymore.

She weaves her fingers through mine and holds on tight, and maybe she shouldn't have done that because she doesn't know that I'm addicted now, and I may never let go.

So we walk along silently, her hand in mine, warm and smooth, and I wonder what she thinks of the calluses rubbing against her palm, but she's not complaining. She's not trying to loosen our hold. We climb the small steps and walk towards the statue of the man on the horse, and I'm looking at it with my heart beating hard in my chest when she stops us and sits on the stoop, pulling me down with her.

I sit next to her. With her one free hand, she smoothes down the hem of her dress, bending her legs sideways so that the skirt doesn't ride up too much, but I still see those legs.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks.

My eyes climb to her shoulders; to my jacket on her shoulders.

"We don't have to," she says.

"I do...want to talk about it, I mean."

"Your brother and sister-in-law…how did they pass away?"

My eyes move to her eyes, her warm, dark eyes, so deep and bottomless. And I remember the dream…

"I'm here, Edward. I don't care. I'm here."

"They were hit by a…drunk driver."

"God, I'm so sorry," she whispers, and even through the noise of everything surrounding us, I hear her. She reaches out and takes my other hand, and I look down at where we're joined.

"My sister, Rose, was watching Mel. I was supposed to watch her that night, but...I'd been out with a couple of friends the night before and I wasn't...Jasper and Alice were going to the movies. They usually went with Mel, but this one time…I think it was some R rated shit. Anyway," I breathe, "my sister called me and told me there'd been an...accident, and I met them at the hospital, but they'd died instantly, and...yeah, that's..."

She squeezes my hands tighter, so tight I feel her nails on my knuckles. For a long while, neither one of us speaks. Her thumbs begin drawing light, soothing circles over my knuckles.

"What happened to the...driver?"

"He's in hell somewhere."

I see her nod out of my periphery, hear her audible swallow. "I thought maybe it was something like that, but…I wasn't sure."

Now I let my eyes meet hers again. "Mel hasn't told you any of it?"

She shakes her head. "She's just begun to mention them, but it has to be on her terms. If I ask her something about them, she shuts me down by either saying she can't remember, or she just doesn't want to talk about it."

"My friend Carlisle, he's a psychologist," I tell her after a while. "He says Mel needs to speak to someone; someone she can trust, someone with who she feels comfortable, but she refuses to see a therapist. The state would pay for one, but…she doesn't want to. She says she doesn't need to."

Bella nods. "If you wouldn't mind…I mean…I'm no therapist or anything, but I think she feels comfortable with me. Maybe I can push her just a little," she says. "Try to get her to talk, you know? It's always good to talk to someone, to share your burdens."

For two seconds, while I'm looking at her, I see Alice-

-but not the actual Alice because Alice was Jasper's. She was his rock, his strength, his salvation.

What I mean is that I see, for just a fraction of a second, a future where maybe…just maybe…I can have my own rock, my own strength. My salvation.

"That would be…" – I exhale – "really great of you. She adores you, you know."

She looks down, blushing again, and then looks back up with a soft smile. "I care about her too. But she'll open up on her own time, Edward. I won't force her, and besides, she seems less…angry than she did when she first started dancing with me; at least, I think so," she shrugs.

"She is," I nod vehemently. "She's so different, and it's all thanks to you, Bella."

"No, Edward," Bella shakes her head, squeezing both my hands once more. "I mean, if I've helped at all, I'm grateful for that, but it's you she spends most of her time with. You're the main force helping her get through this."

I snort and look away. "You have no idea how impossible that is. I'm just a constant reminder of what she's lost."

She furrows her brows, clearly confused.

And the words are there, but what comes out is, "I don't want to burden you, Bella, with any more issues. You're Mel's dance teacher, and I'm grateful for all your help with her, but…you don't need to burden yourself with anything else."

I want to kick myself as soon as the words are out there, and my first clue that she may want to do the same is when her thumbs stop stroking my hands. Then the firmness of her grip loosens. Then she closes her eyes for two beats too long and drops her head with a snort.

When she looks back up at me, she tilts her head sideways and releases a long breath through her nostrils.

"Edward, I've been watching Mel three nights a week for almost two months now, never asking questions from her or from you even though at this point, I think I have a right. And now you lure me out of my date and feed me the most delicious chocolate," she chuckles humorlessly, "yet you're still pushing me away."

"No, Bella," I say, wrapping my hands around her face. She puts her hands over mine, watching me warily. "I swear, I'm not trying to be an asshole with you. It's just…there's a lot of stuff going on right now."

"We all have stuff going on, Edward," she says shakily.

"I know, I know." I swallow thickly and close my eyes, and when I reopen them, she's watching me, waiting, still so patient despite all my fuck ups.

"I've never been good at this. At…communicating," I clarify. "I don't want to push you away anymore, but…just give me time."

She squeezes my hands again, and suddenly something like…shame fills her features. She looks down again, but this time it's like she's hiding, and she takes a deep breath before looking up.

"You're right. It's hard to share everything all at once. I'm sorry." She looks away again. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." She won't look at me, so I force myself into her line of vision. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she smiles faintly. "I'm fine." And then she takes another deep breath and gives me a bigger smile before pulling my hands off her face, bringing them down to her lap, still keeping our fingers laced together. "I'm fine."

I study her for a couple of heart beats, searching her eyes, but I can tell I'm making her uncomfortable.

"Heavy talk for a first date, huh? Guess I'm not doing a very good job of convincing you, and I've only got…" – I check my watch – "about an hour left."

"I'm actually glad you spoke to me about all this. I've been wondering, but…I didn't want to pry. Besides," she grins, her spirits seeming to lift, "that chocolate fondue…man, was that sick, as your niece would say! Might go a long way towards convincing me," she winks.

I throw my head back, laughing. "Don't tell me that all I needed all along was a pot of melted chocolate. Had I known that, I would've brought you over a bucket full weeks ago."

"Now, I didn't say that was all you needed," she teases. "Don't forget the marshmallows."

"The marshmallows. Of course," I laugh. "Thank you for listening," I tell her more soberly.

"Thank you…for sharing with me."

Taking both her hands, I help her up to her feet, but I guess I must pull her arms a bit too hard because suddenly her body's falling forward and she lands on my chest, her hands on my shoulders, and she's right there. Right on me. Warm and soft, and getting me drunk on her scent and her skin, and it's the best thing in the world and the worst thing in hell because I've just got to dip my head and her mouth will be mine. She'll be mine, and she's perfect.

She's perfect.

And what fucking right do I have to steal her into my world? To claim her for myself when I have nothing to offer her beyond AA meetings and doing without new work boots to pay for dance classes, and keeping a half-empty bottle of Jack under the sink to try to keep myself from fucking up again?

And she's looking at me with those eyes, those dark, hypnotizing eyes, her mouth begging to be kissed because it doesn't know.

She doesn't know.

I reach up and stroke her perfect face, brush the tips of my fingers along her smooth cheek, skim them along her jaw, circle up to her bottom lip, and she closes her eyes…waiting…

"Come on, it's getting cold. Let me take you home."

For two seconds after she opens her eyes, she looks completely bewildered, blinking profusely. Then she sets her jaw in a tight line, swallowing thickly, and nods.

And side by side, we walk back the way we came.

OOOOOOOOOO

The ride back to Brooklyn is uncomfortably quiet. I know she's upset. I know I've hurt her – again. I've embarrassed her - again, humiliated her, but she doesn't know why. She could have any man she wants, there's no need for her to complicate her life with me.

She stares out of the passenger side window the entire ride back. A few minutes before we reach her block, she takes off my jacket and bundles it carefully, placing it in the space between us.

When we arrive at her building, I put the car on park and then…we just sit there.

"Thank you, I had a…good time," she says, turning her head to the side, but only giving me a sidelong glance.

I simply nod because what else can I say at this point?

"So I…." Her voice shakes, and she waits for me to fill in the blanks, but I don't have anything to fill them with, that's what she doesn't get.

Finally, she sighs and turns to open her door.

"Let me get that for you."

I get out of the car and cross over to her side, opening the door for her.

"Thanks," she murmurs, avoiding my gaze.

I walk behind her to her door and watch as she takes her keys out of her bag, adjusting her shawl when it threatens to slip off her shoulder. Her honey-toned shoulder. My heart hammers against my ribs.

"I guess I'll see you Monday," she says without looking at me, sticking the key in the lock while my chest heaves.

When I grab her arm and whip her around to face me, she glares up at me defiantly, triumphantly, with a small smile playing on her face like somehow, she's won.

I push her up against the door and fist the back of her hair in one hand, cradling her jaw in the other.

"Damn it, I can't push you away anymore," I breathe, my mouth almost on hers. Almost.

"Then stop fucking trying," she hisses, fisting my jacket with both her hands and pulling me flush against her so that I can feel her soft breasts, her quickly beating heart racing in time with mine right before I crash my mouth to hers.

It's a hungry kiss on both sides: tongues and teeth clash as she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me in even closer, fisting my hair and alternating between sucking my bottom lip, my top lip and frantically curling her tongue around mine. I feel the frenzied movements of her jaw under my hand; I feel the heat of her mouth absolutely everywhere.

"Bella…"

She moans into my mouth, and I'm lost. I'm gone. My conscience no longer exists. All that exists is the woman kissing me wildly, holding on to me like a lifeline, like I'm the only one who can save her when it's the other way around.

I drop my hands to her shoulders, pushing off that god damn shawl and running my hands over her smooth skin. Jesus, it's even softer than I'd imagined.

"Edward," she breathes, and I grab her bottom, lifting her up, pressing myself against her to keep her in place while I put my mouth on those shoulders. She sighs and arches her back, and I drag my lips shoulder to collarbone to shoulder, sucking on her intoxicatingly sweet skin all the way up her neck until I reach her mouth again. She cradles my face and draws my tongue deep into her mouth, and for an immeasurable moment in time, nothing else exists except her and me, except the heat of her body against mine, and the pent up kisses and touches because we've been holding back for almost two months. Two months of fights and confusion, but whatever else there may be, while her body squirms against mine, while I taste the sweetness of her mouth, I know that this is right. Whatever else may still be there once this kiss is over, this is right, and I'll never again fight against it. Any fight now will be against anything or anyone who ever threatens to try to take her away.

I'm thoroughly and completely addicted.

When she can't take it anymore, she pulls away and throws her head back against the door, panting furiously and grinning the most smugly glorious grin imaginable.

"Oh God," she gasps, "Oh God," over and over. "Oh God, that was..." Her cheeks are flushed bright red; her hair is a wild mess.

"Yeah," I grin, tracing her perfectly swollen lips with my finger. "It was."

"What time is it?" she asks breathlessly.

Dizzy and drunk in a way I've never been in my life, it takes me a couple of seconds before I can read my watch.

"11:56," I respond just as breathlessly.

She grins again. "Okay, I'm convinced, with four minutes to spare."

I chuckle heartily. "Well, let's not waste those four minutes."

And I move in and devour her once again.

A/N: Thoughts?

Twitter: PattyRosa817

Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.

See you all Thursday!