A/N: To the wonderful ladies that are with me on this journey - NewTwilightFan, Ninkita, NKubie, Twimom1960 and LunaBev. Thank you! This wouldn't be without you!

Disclaimer: My characters will say and do questionable things. Yell at them not me!

Chapter 21

Decide, Bella. Him. Or. Me.

Him or me, Edward whispered in her ear, his breath warm as his lips brushed against her skin. His chest pressed against her back, steel to softness, enclosing her in his warmth. She leaned into his touch. Goosebumps rippled across her arms and down her back at the low timbre of his voice. Bella tried to face him, to ask for clarity — whom she was supposed to choose, but she was rooted to the floor. Her voice escaped her. She couldn't say the words that needed to be said, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Speak, dammit! Say something!

Then he was gone, stepping back into the darkness, leaving her cold and desperate. Her arms flailed, trying to reach him, but grasping at nothing. Her feet still wouldn't move. She tried to scream, to call his name, but nothing. Numbness spread through her body as she accepted the truth. She was alone.

Panting, Bella jostled awake. Her heart pounded against her rib cage as the remnants of the dream swam through her barely conscious mind.

Decide, Bella. But decide between whom? Who else was there? She tried to grasp at the lingering threads of the dream, but nothing made sense. Bella scrubbed a hand down her face and rubbed her tired eyes. God, I'm losing my mind!

She peeked at her alarm clock and groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes. 6:17am. It was just too damn early to be thinking about him and yet, there he was, a constant presence in this new reality. Bella blew out a frustrated breath, turned her head and glared at the jacket she'd thrown into the corner of the room when she got home the previous night. He made her so angry. He turned her on and pissed her off at the same time. She'd gone from wanting to rip his clothes off to fighting the urge to punch his handsome, arrogant face. And she wasn't a violent person! The most harm she could do was with her fingertips using a keyboard. A slow smile curled Bella's lips at the thought of spamming his email with useless, unnecessary advertisements.

Maybe one for Viagra. Or a few dozen.

She shook her head and the grin fell, already regretting her line of thinking. As much as the idea beckoned to her, she wouldn't be able to follow through with it. Childish. Vindictive. That's not who she wanted to be, no matter how much he had hurt her. All she wanted was to move on. Wipe her hands of the mistake she'd made that first night and remember not to listen to Rose's advice. She just wasn't the one night stand type of girl. She wanted commitment and trust. Someone to want her as much as she wanted them. That wasn't Edward. She knew this, had seen the gossip rags, the many women on his arm. He didn't do relationships.

The words he'd said on the dance floor filtered through her mind. Rebel from the wrong side of the tracks. Untamable. Reckless. All that she knew, those characteristics made him who he was, but why from the wrong side of the tracks? What had he been trying to say? His life — successful parents, fame, fortune — screamed anything but wrong to her. But there was something in the way he'd said it that made her want to know how he defined wrong. Or right.

Bella sat up, her mind brimming with curiosity. Edward had this indecipherable firewall that she wanted to break through, to learn what was on the other side, but whatever ciphers or codes she threw at it, he either retaliated or added another layer to the protective barrier around him. It was maddening.

There had been so many moments when she thought she'd seen glimpses of something real in his eyes, something that kept her expecting more, but they were thwarted by the cocky, arrogant, tightly controlled man with an iron heart.

Fire and ice. Sugar and spice. Polar opposites.

And while most opposites did attract, there were always anomalies. Exceptions to the rule. When two people are too different, they only tear each other apart. That's what she wanted to say in response to his text asking her to meet with him. Her fingers typed the words but found it difficult to send it.

Forcing a swallow down past the lump in her throat, Bella's finger hovered over the send key. Her heart constricted at the thought of the looming goodbye. Of never seeing him again. Of never anything with him. God, her body ached all over, trembled with the notion. She just couldn't do it! Couldn't press that button. Couldn't force herself to admit that it was over.

Bella placed her phone back on her nightstand, draft message deleted. She wiped away the tears. Her plan was clear. She'd send him the jacket, hoping it, he, would fade into the background of her mind. Then, as soon as she could work up the courage, she'd scrub her phone's data of any trace of him and their exchanged texts and force herself to move forward.

One step at a time. Rose's advice from the previous night echoed in her mind.

I can do this! I've done it before!

Slowly Bella got out of bed. Her head pounded. Her heart ached. She rubbed her chest and took a deep breath, stopping when she heard Rose and Emmett's soft murmurs through the closed door.

"I don't know, Em…." she could hear Rose speaking, worry in her voice.

"It had to be done…" Emmett grumbled a few more words, too distorted for Bella to hear. There were key words like stubborn, pig-headed, good for him and worried about him that she could understand. Bella moved closer to the door, hand on the door handle. Her brows furrowed. Puzzle pieces started to fall into place. Last night. The club. Edward. It had to be done.

Rose set her up?! And Emmett was in on it? Seeing Edward hadn't just been a coincidence?

Bella's fingers curled into fists, a new form of anger burning through her. Her own sister…? Talk about meddling!

Their voices carried down the hall, and soon she heard the front door slam shut. Taking a deep breath, Bella made her way into the kitchen. Dressed in a robe that barely covered her ass cheeks, Rose stood by the counter and waved at Emmett through the window.

Bella cleared her throat and leaned her hip against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. She needed answers.

Turning, Rose greeted her with a gentle smile. "Morning! Coffee?"

"This was your idea?" Bella asked lowly, trying to rein in her temper. She felt betrayed, manipulated.

Rose simply nodded and sat at the table, sipping the dark brew. "Did you at least talk to him?"

No apology? No regret? No explanation? Bella shook her head with disbelief.

"Why?"

"Because you two are the most stubborn people we know."

Bella opened her mouth to interrupt, but Rose kept talking. "You make assumptions about each other that aren't even true. You push. You goad. You torment each other and then run with your tail tucked between your legs. You're too fucking scared of the possibility of getting hurt to see what's right in front of you." She rose from the chair and took a step in Bella's direction, irritation mixed with compassion in her blue eyes. "I, Emmett, hell the whole damn city, just wanted you two to talk to each other for once. Not hump each other on the dance floor. God, Bella! Stop overthinking everything, and talk to the damn man!"

"I tried! But thanks to you and your latest boy toy, I wasn't prepared for him! You ambushed me!" Hurt and betrayal fueled the words she hurled at her sister.

"How could you be prepared?" Rose countered. "Tell me you weren't agonizing over him those few days you spent in DC? And for the record, Emmett isn't my latest boy toy! I care about him, and he cares about me! It's different with him," Rose defended.

"I'm sorry, Ro. I know Emmett is different for you." Bella rubbed her temple then reached for a mug. "I shouldn't have said that." Rose remained quiet, silently watching Bella as she tried to make sense of the emotions that swirled through her head. "Edward… he's just… he's so overwhelming. I always seem to lose myself, my wits, whenever I'm around him. I want to slap him and jump him at the same time. It's… it's…" She didn't know.

"Passion," Rose finished, her voice softer. Bella closed her eyes. That word alone brought it all back. All those breathtaking moments with him. Her hands trembled. Her body tingled with the memories. The man made her feel alive, wanton. It had been so good. "The chemistry between you two is off the charts. You just have to figure out how to balance it. To keep it at fireworks level and not a nuclear explosion."

Bella nodded and processed those words, her focus on the coffee. She recalled their conversation from the previous day. "So all that talk about moving on, taking it one step at a time… what was that?"

"Pep talk. I wasn't sure if he'd show even though Em assured me that he would, so… that was my backup plan."

"Well, it worked… until it didn't."

Leaning forward, Rose quirked a brow, curiosity in her eyes. She curled her hands around the mug. "What the hell happened? Minus the humping of course."

Bella recounted what happened between her and Edward on the dance floor, minus some of the more intimate details. His possessiveness, despite having broken it off between them, puzzled her. She couldn't seem to wrap her head around his hostility, why he wanted her to admit her feelings but deny his own.

"Do you see why I'm overthinking everything with him?" Bella asked after she laid out her concerns. "I don't know what he wants. He pulls me in, drives me wild and then pushes me away in the blink of an eye." She cried, overwhelmed by power he held over her. "He wants his jacket back tonight, but the rest…" She shook her head and lifted the mug to her lips. "I'm not even sure if he knows himself."

Rose traced the rim of her cup, lips pursed in thought. She met Bella's gaze. "Maybe that's why he is so attracted to you."

"What?" Bella scoffed and shook her head in denial. She tried to play off the hope that surged deep in her chest. She couldn't dive into the deep end again now that her mind had been made up. "It's just sex." Saying the words didn't lessen the sting of hurt.

"Maybe that's how it started. Maybe that's all he knows." Rose bit her lip as she mulled over her words. "You're the one that lured him in. You're the one that walked away that first night. You didn't linger. And then refused him the second time. It's new for him. A challenge, maybe."

"Again, all just sex," Bella countered, trying again to believe that.

That's all this was to him. He'd made that clear. To her… she couldn't deny that her heart desired more, even though she knew that it was like walking down an emotional suicide lane. Bella knew the risks, knew the damages that could, and probably would occur, experienced them all, and yet kept walking towards him. Despite knowing that he was the sort of man — reckless, rebellious and arrogant — she should definitely stay away from, there was something about him that kept her going back. Maybe it was because he was all those things and more. Something deeper. Something softer, gentler. Just a few glimpses and she'd been intrigued. He had her wanting more. Had her ignoring the warning bells. He was her enigma.

"That's what it started out as, yes, but I see the way he looks at you. Last night at the club, he could have had his pick of any willing pussy out there, but he only saw you, Bella. You!"

… any willing pussy… Therein was the rub. He could have anyone. Why her?

Bella pushed back the chair and headed to the sink to put away her now empty cup. Outside the window, it looked to be a beautiful sunny day, a contrast to Bella's somber mood. Covering her mouth, she yawned. She was just so damn tired; physically and emotionally.

Rose wrapped one arm around her waist and leaned her head against Bella's shoulder. It was something she'd done since they were teenagers, and it had always comforted Bella just as it did now.

"It all comes back to sex." Bella sighed wistfully. "Against my better judgment, I did my research on him. He doesn't keep the same woman around for long. Except that one blonde model, Tanya something. She popped up more frequently than anyone else. There must be a history, but even she isn't in the picture anymore." She squeezed her eyes shut, warding off the sting of tears. "I'm no different. Like you said, I'm a new challenge, and once he's bored with me, I'll join the long line of discarded women. Just another notch on his bedpost." Saying the words out loud caused the small spark of hope in her chest to evaporate.

"Alright. If that's the ending, at least enjoy fucking the man ten ways from Sunday. Release your inner slut and have fun."

Bella twisted out of Rose's embrace and turned to face her, mouth agape. "What? I can't! That's not me! If you remember correctly, I tried that and look where it's got me?!"

"It's just sex, Bella. Mind blowing, toe curling orgasms," Rose stated nonchalantly. "By the sounds of it, you've already written the ending in your mind, so why the hell not?" she challenged. "He's Edward fucking Cullen! And he has his eyes on you. Enjoy the orgasmic ride while it lasts! Let him blow your mind."

She made it sound so easy. That thought, the idea of letting him use her body for pleasure, the type she'd experienced first-hand and desperately desired more of, sent a shiver down her spine. A deep need settled in her belly and caused certain areas to clench, wanting to feel him moving, thrusting, pushing her body to new heights.

Images of a hard body and lust-filled green eyes swam through her mind. Sensual lips that whispered sinful promises…

Would she be able to walk away unscathed, unattached once he deemed her inconsequential?

Bella placed a hand to her midsection, dread settling in her stomach. "I think… I think I'm going back to bed. I haven't slept well all week, and my head's starting to hurt," she mumbled and turned towards the hall, her mind a mess. Conflicting emotions, so many thoughts and questions, surged through her. Rose's idea to release her inner slut, albeit appealing, warred against the rational part of her brain. To cut her losses and move on. One step at a time. There just wasn't a good outcome to any scenario. Either way, her heart would break.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

-MTSD-

Something just didn't feel right.

Edward pinned the throttle and lifted up from the seat as the bike flew over the jump.

Too hard on the landing.

Fuck!

He pinned the throttle again, eyes zeroing in on the next turn.

Slow the fuck down.

Everything blurred as the bike flew across the tracks, leaving tread marks in the dirt. He exhaled roughly and gripped the handlebars tight.

A blur. Fucking life. His life. Years. Everything blurred like a dense fog. He raced. He pushed, grabbing at everything, anything… and nothing… to make it through the day. To that damn finish line.

Pain.

Acceptance.

Adrenaline.

Pleasure.

Another jump. Fuck! Too damn hard for a landing. He was going to need to talk to the crew chief. Two days before the race and his bike was calibrated wrong.

Pain ricocheted through his knee when it scraped the ground as he barely made the turn. He'd come on too fast, too hard.

Shit!

Pleasure to bury the pain.

Bella! Fucking Bella. Those heart shaped lips. That gasp that escaped her mouth as she neared climax. His. Fucking. Name. Double fuck!

It's just sex, right?

Fuck! Me!

She could have said, "open wide" and rammed those words down his throat. His words. Damn her!

I want you.

Those words had been on the tip of his tongue, but fuck if she hadn't thrown him for a loop. Played him like a damn fiddle. Putty in her hands.

Edward blinked, shaken from his thoughts as he neared a sharp left turn.

Fucking hell!

Slamming on the brakes, he slid the bike to a skittering stop. Dust billowed around him before it blew away with the breeze.

"What the hell, Cullen?" the mechanic, Peter, shouted as he walked towards Edward with a scowl on his face, hands on his hips. "New shocks. New clutch. And this was your worst lap time yet!"

Edward gripped his helmet and goggles tight, his temper boiling over. He ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair. "Then fix it, dammit! It rides like shit!"

For a moment, Peter looked baffled. "Like hell," he rebutted. "It's calibrated just as it should be. Better, even." He stepped closer and cocked his head, noting Edward's clenched jaw and hard set eyes. "Clear that head of yours before Sunday. You got it? If you're distracted…"

"It's disastrous. I know, Pete," Edward recited the same line he'd heard since the start of his career. "I'm fine." Grabbing a Gatorade out of the cooler, he downed half its contents and started to walk around the bike admiring the new shocks, inspecting the tires and new clutch.

"Whoever she is must be one damn magic pussy to distract you."

Edward's hand tightened around the bottle, his jaw and shoulders tensing with the need to defend himself, her, to rebuke the statement. But that would open a whole new can of worms. Fuck that shit. He continued his perusal, flipping Peter the finger. "Fuck you!"

Peter cackled, the sound mixing with the clank of tools. "Nah, man. You sure as shit ain't my type."

But Bella is mine.

Fucking hell. Two seconds without her on his mind and there she was again. Those eyes. That mouth. That sexy as sin body wrapped in blue. His balls tightened at the look of determination on her face. Her defiance, that resistance was his fuel, a new challenge. Like a new bike that he couldn't wait to ride, to break in.

I'll break her resistance and she can ride me any way she likes.

No woman had ever walked away from him willingly. They came to him — motohoes, actresses, models — fell to their knees or spread their legs just to be with him; all thinking they could tame the bad boy or at least angle for a spread across the front page of some gossip rag. They got exposure and he got a chance to fuck away his demons for a night or two. He didn't care. It was according to his rules, his limitations, and it never went beyond the bedroom. Edward made sure he didn't keep anyone around for long. Because relationships meant complications. Expectations. Strings fucking attached. Not a fucking chance. He'd made the mistake of breaking his own rule when he'd made that arrangement with Tanya. Look how that had ended, backfired spectacularly.

But Bella had him breaking all his rules. She made his head spin, brought color, the whole fucking rainbow, into his simple black and white world. Caused him to stumble, stagger. Stare. To want something he couldn't, shouldn't have, nor want. Made him want to challenge her. Himself. Break her resistance. Pull her close. Push her. Demand. Collide. And bury himself in her just to breathe her in, listen to her heart pound against his and do it all over again. To lose himself in her. He craved the quiet, the stillness that seeped into his bones whenever she was around him, touching him. A little piece of heaven in his fucked up hell.

He was one greedy son of a bitch for wanting more of her. For wanting to corrupt the good in her with his poison.

Emmett's voice pulled Edward out his head. "Man, that was some shitty driving," he said, clapping Edward hard on the shoulder. His lips were pulled in a wide ass grin, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. A black baseball cap sat backwards on his head, pushing back his dark hair.

Edward shrugged off his hand and snorted. "But yours will be worse."

"Worse than that?" The fucker laughed. "Unlike you, I got some tail last night. Mind fucking cleared." He titled his face towards the sky, spread his arms wide and smiled like a loon. "Aaaahhh," he sighed. "If pussy was a monastery, I'd be a fucking monk."

Laughing at the dumb analogy, Edward chucked the empty Gatorade bottle at his best friend's head. "You do know monks are celibate, right?"

Emmett's grin fell, his brows furrowed as that fact sank in. He shook his head and gave Edward a pointed look. "Don't matter. The point is, I got some and you didn't."

There was the jab. The push of an unseen button. Edward's jaw tensed as he fought the urge to retaliate. After he had calmed down from seeing Bella and their interaction on the dancefloor, he'd pieced it all together. Emmett's insistence and the VIP passes. Bastard had stepped on a damn landmine the moment he decided to meddle in Edward's life.

"Win some. Lose some," he replied, turning his attention back to the bike, trying to get his mind away from her again.

Edward heard the crunch of gravel as Emmett stepped closer and cleared his throat. "You won the lottery."

Edward turned to Emmett, his brows furrowed, totally confused. "What?"

"You're just too stupid to see it," Emmett continued. He scratched the back of his neck and turned to face Edward, his expression guarded, cautious.

"Em," Edward warned through gritted teeth. He just didn't wanna hear it, for fear that he'd let his emotions rule his actions. Either he'd punch his best friend or go to Bella and grovel at her feet.

Not a fucking chance. Balls are still intact.

But Emmett didn't see the turmoil that raged within him, the demons that held him hostage. The control that was about to snap. "She's your checkered flag, man."

The refusal, the denial, the fight escaped from Edward's lung with those four words. He continued to stare at Emmett, willing him to keep talking, to change the subject. To get his mind away from possibilities. To keep the hope from blooming.

Checkered flag.

End of the race.

Afraid of some kind of sentimental girly shit coming from his mouth, Edward cleared his throat and turned to leave. With just a few words, Emmett had dug into his soul and pried the door open further. What ifs, maybes and holy shit… a future with her played on slow fucking motion. A future he'd never let himself dream about, to think about, all of sudden started to look like a race track and he was standing at the starting gate.

His footsteps faltered. His hands shook. Vision blurred. Fingers pulled at his hair.

Pain.

Darkness.

Impossible.

Edward braced his hands on the hood of his truck, trying to get his breathing under control, to stop the damn anxiety attack. Fucking Emmett for making him think of damn possibilities.

There was no future like that for him. Where she was goodness, light, color… he was a sinner, worthless, unredeemable. Broken.

Humpty fucking Dumpty!

The fucking nursery rhyme he'd hated during his childhood had become a metaphor of his life. He understood it now.

No king's men could ever put me back together.

The sound of the truck's door slamming shut caused Edward to wince. He gripped the steering wheel tight. His chest ached, squeezing his lungs as the seven foot brick wall around his heart started to crack. He'd felt the first jagged lines forming two weeks ago when he'd spent that evening with Bella in the trailer at the tracks.

Terror seized him. He couldn't let out the darkness that bled from his heart, his fucking past. He couldn't deal with the consequences. The fallout. The exposure.

Swallowing down the angst, Edward opened his eyes with a new determination. He was going to seal those cracks. Reinforce the wall. Bury the bones deeper.

Pleasure to bury the pain.

-MTSD-

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

You've lost your damn mind, Cullen!

His gaze moved between the door and his truck. Then to the window along the side wall. The curtains were drawn shut, but Edward could still picture that room clear as day, could still see her, feel her. Her lips on his body, her skin beneath his fingertips. The silent understanding in her eyes. Her simple acceptance.

He took a deep breath, knocked back by the onslaught of emotions. Possessed by the craving.

His finger hovered over the door bell. Thoughts spiraled. Yes. No. Yes. Definitely not!

He pressed the button.

"Fuck," he cursed as beads of sweat accumulated on his lower back. Edward stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

Just turn around. Walk the fuck away!

His fingers brushed against the keys. Tempting. His truck was so close, an easy escape. She wouldn't even have to know he'd been there.

But then, the door opened, and it was like he couldn't breathe and yet, finally could. His lungs filled with air. Life.

She stood before him, a green T-shirt twice her size reaching to her mid thighs. Hair rumpled and eyes, those dark eyes, heavy with sleep. Then she saw him and her eyes widened, just like her mouth, in surprise. Maybe shock. A flicker of irritation flashed in those dark irises.

I deserve that.

Edward cleared his throat, unfamiliar with the new sensations streaming in his blood, but finding it impossible to move, to escape her gaze. His fingers itched to touch, his mouth wanting to drink her in, to consume her. To be consumed.

Yep, definitely lost it.

Words came and went as he searched for the right ones to say, but all of them failed, just like he had and how he knew he would.

He swallowed harshly as the reality struck him down once more. He was a failure compared to her. She was goodness of the purest kind. He turned to leave, not knowing how to make her understand, how to justify his actions — past, present, nor future.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall...

He was afraid. Of everything. Of possibilities. And it all spiraled down to her as she whispered his name.

"Edward?"

Falling… falling… crack!

A/N: This is a turning point for Edward... and Bella. The journey isn't over yet, and it won't be easy, but it's a start. He won't be the typical loving, totally changed man like we want him to be. He's still got ways to go.

Thank you for reading and every review! I appreciate it more than I can say! xoxo