A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait! I've been really busy and just haven't had the time to write. But! Good news is, this chapter's here now BUT before you read, I'd like to give a shoutout to two loyal readers who I've heard have been reading for a while and have been telling their friends about this story :) Yes, I'm talking to you, Ariana and Daniela. I, as well as Isabella, would like to thank you for telling your friends about this story. It's because of you and all my other loyal readers (and I'm not going to name all of you because the list would literally be long enough to be its own chapter) that I keep writing so thank you all for reading until this point and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!

Oh, and I've had a few technical difficulties in past chapters, but everything's fixed now and I'll pay more attention to mistakes and stuff...lol anywhoo author's note over. You can read now :) AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW :P

Chapter 21

I stared at the big black sign at the top of the building: MAFIA INK

It looked shady as hell and I felt uneasy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Edward noticed my hesitation. "If you're not sure about this, we could-"

"No, I want to." I said, keeping my voice as stable as possible. You only lived once, right? But your life will be five times shorter if you get some infectious disease or something and end up dying.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we entered. The inside was nowhere near as bad as the outside. Looked pretty cool actually, with every inch of the walls covered in art and tattoo designs.

"So what do you want?" Edward asked as we walked into the place.

"Uhhh…" I had never actually thought this far. As I looked around, I felt even more lost as the thousands of tattoo designs on the walls overwhelmed me.

"It's almost Thanksgiving; you could get a turkey tattooed somewhere." He continued.

I looked at him incredulously. "I am not going to get a turkey tattooed on my ass."

"I never said anything about your ass," He said innocently, but I knew him better than that.

I laughed. "But you were thinking it."

He didn't deny it and I laughed again before sobering up. I was at a complete loss.

"Can I see yours again?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. So I tried again. "C'mon I need inspiration."

"It's like twenty degrees outside."

"But we're not outside. Please?" I held my hands up in a pleading gesture and looked up into his eyes, pouting my lips.

He stared at me for a second more before shrugging off his jacket then his shirt, exposing his bare skin.

I, just like last time, had to struggle not to get distracted by his amazing body. I focused on the tattoos and not on the skin they were drawn on.

Starting at his wrist, I gently traced the lines with my fingertips up his arm. When I got to his chest, I felt a slight shudder go through him, and my hand froze on his chest and my eyes flew up to his.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"It's fine," He whispered back.

I looked up into his eyes, hypnotized.

"Uh, okay you can put your shirt back on." I said, turning away. He laughed but did.

Then I had an idea. I found a wrinkled napkin in the back pocket of my jeans and, after borrowing a pen from one of the tattoo artists, I used Edward's back as a flat surface to draw my design on. I drew a series of curved lines and in the end, they came together to look like a bird. It was perfect.

I held it up to Edward. "Well?"

He just laughed. "You would draw your own. It looks great."

A young tattoo artist walked up. She didn't look that much older than us with dark hair with ice blue tips. Every inch of visible skin covered with tattoos or piercings.

"You pick one out?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah," I handed her the napkin.

She nodded. "Okay, follow me."

We did. She gestured for me to sit a chair that sort of reminded me of a dentist's office.

As I situated myself, she she sat down in her own chair and spun around to gather some supplies. A moment later, she turned back to us. "ID?" She asked me as she pulled on some gloves.

I looked at Edward, eyes wide.

Both he and the tattoo artist burst out laughing at my panicked expression.

"Nah, I'm just playing. Are all your girls this gullible, Edward?" They knew each other? I looked to Edward.

"Nah, Bree, this one just tends to be a little slow."

"This one tends to be a little slow?" I repeated, glaring at him.

"See what I mean?" He and Bree laughed for a moment and I scowled at the ground, feeling like an awkward third wheel. Who was this girl?

"Bree was a senior last year at Forks High. She's actually the one who hooked me and the guys up with our tattoos." Edward explained, answering my unvoiced question.

Oh. That made sense. But I still didn't like how comfortable he was with her.

She turned to me, smiling. "Like he said, I'm Bree."

"Bella," I offered. She seemed nice enough. For some reason, that made it worse.

"Well, Bella, where do you want it?" She asked, smiling again, and I felt an unexpected wave of envy come over me. Sure, I was pretty, but she could have been a model if it weren't for the tattoos and piercings. I quickly pushed the thought aside and thought about what was important right now: my tattoo.

I had thought about this part. I lifted my shirt a little and pointed to the to the left side of my stomach.

"Okay, lie down."

I lied down on my back and lifted my shirt a little higher to expose my stomach. I shivered when I felt a cool chill on my skin as Bree wiped my hip with some antibacterial stuff around the area.

I looked up at the ceiling, which I now noticed was covered by a huge mural. It was pretty. Calming, with mostly blues and greens swirling around and coming together into a cool looking abstract painting.

Edward was standing next to me, his arms folded over his chest, the muscles in his biceps prominent.

"Will it hurt?" I asked suddenly.

"You're kidding, right?" Edward asked.

"Right, stupid question." I let out a small laugh. I closed my eyes and clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

I felt a hand cover my clenched fist. I opened my eyes to see Edward's hand over mine.

"Don't forget to breathe." He said, a grin gracing his face.

I glared at him, still kind of pissed off about how comfortable he seemed around Bree, even though I knew it was completely irrational. "No, I was planning on not breathing. I'm sure it will help with the pain if I'm dead."

He only raised his eyebrows at my bitchy tone.

"Sorry," I sighed, exhaling and he gently squeezed my hand.

Overall, the pain wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, not to say that it wasn't hell, and by the end of it all I had an awesome tattoo.

After I was all cleaned and bandaged up, Bree led us to a register. "Cash or credit?"

I froze, and not just because I was purposely limiting my movement because of my stomach. Shit. I had forgotten to bring money. I was such an idiot. Who walks out of the house without money? Me, apparently.

"I got this," Edward said as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

"No, Edward, you don't have t-"

"It's not a big deal, Princess, relax." He interrupted me.

I opened my mouth to protest but he held up his hand to stop me.

"Would you prefer debtor's prison?" He pointed to my lack of wallet.

Rolling my eyes, but secretly grateful, I silently watched as he paid.

"Don't be a stranger!" Bree called as we walked out of the building and I had to keep myself from turning back and strangling her. Huh. So this was what jealousy felt like: wanting to kill perfectly nice people for no reason. I scowled at the ground. I didn't like it.

"Thanks, Edward" I said as we got in the car.

"No problem." He said, starting the engine and drove out of the parking lot.

I turned to look out the window but yelped as a pain stung the side of my stomach. Edward looked over at me and I exhaled. "I'm fine. Just, keep driving." He didn't look convinced but turned towards the road anyway.

Slowly, I turned to look forward again, trying not to aggravate it side much but epically failing. I winced. "I guess this counts as our first official date, huh?"

He turned towards me again and looked at me for a minute. Seemingly making a decision, he spun the car around so fast my head punched into the headrest. My hands braced against the edge of the dashboard, my knuckles white with tension.

"What the hell?" I gasped. "Are you trying to kill us?"

He gave me a mischievous grin. "I'm taking you out to dinner."