25. Weighed in an Even Balance

"Bella, do these sandals go with this dress?"

I looked up from the paper I was writing, taking in the four-inch red heels Alice was holding up. "Holy shoes, girl! Can you even walk in those things?"

"It's just a study group. I'll be sitting most of the night."

"You're wearing those to a study group?"

She shrugged, her eyes darting away. "Yeah. So?"

"Emmett will be there, won't he?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

I grinned. Edward had gotten Alice all wrong. He had thought she was afraid of Emmett because of his intimidating size. The truth was, she couldn't manage to say a single word to him because she had a monumental crush on him.

"The shoes look great, but do up one more button. You don't want to look like you're trying too hard."

She hurriedly buttoned her sundress, showing slightly less Wonder Bra-assisted cleavage.

"There you go. You look hot."

The front door opened then, and Carlisle and Edward strode in, looking sweaty, but happy.

"Be serious, Edward," Carlisle said. "You can't major in Philosophy unless you want to spend your life living out of a cardboard box."

"What, you mean you're not going to support me forever?" He crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of water bottles for them before his eyes fell on Alice. He gave a low whistle. "Lookin' good, girl. Is Emmett coming over or something?"

Alice huffed and stalked back to her bedroom.

"How were the batting cages?" I asked.

"Carlisle sucks at baseball."

"What?" Carlisle said, looking offended. "I hit more than you did."

"You hit more fouls than I did. If we were playing a game, you'd have struck the fuck out."

"It's been a while. Don't embarrass me in front of my girlfriend."

I giggled and shifted my laptop onto the coffee table, moving to welcome Carlisle home with a kiss. "Don't worry. I automatically operate under the assumption that Edward is full of shit."

"After all, he does want to major in Philosophy."

Edward rolled his eyes. "You're a regular comedian."

"Call your mother. See what she thinks of your plan."

"Jeez, I was just thinking about it. You don't have to go dragging Mom into it." He took his water bottle to the living room and flopped down on the couch. "What about music? I'm good at that."

"Sure. And if you're lucky you can live out of a box in the nice part of town."

"Hilarious."

Carlisle and I followed him to the living room, sitting next to him.

"Medical school?" he said thoughtfully.

"If you want to spend half your life training, and half your paycheck on malpractice insurance."

"Fine," Edward said, rolling his eyes, "what do you suggest I major in?"

"Archaeology, of course."

He snickered. "Thanks, but I outgrew playing in the sandbox when I was seven."

Alice emerged from her room wearing the red heels and carrying a bedazzled messenger bag. "How do I look?" she asked us, doing a little turn.

Edward looked her over. "You really want to get his attention? Undo one more button."

Her eyes widened, and she looked between Edward and me in indecision.

"Oh, come on," I argued. "You think the only way for her to get Emmett's attention is with sex?"

"Trust me. He's not one for subtlety."

Alice pressed her lips together and undid a button. "I'll be home in a few hours," she said, turning and heading for the door.

"Have a good time!" I called after her.

"What about business?" Edward asked Carlisle.

"Could you be a little more vague with your plans?"

"That's kind of the point. A business major would be useful in a lot of careers."

"Business majors are students whose parents got after them for being undeclared."

Edward gave him a pointed look. "Then it's perfect for me, isn't it? What about math?"

"So you can teach high school?"

"What's wrong with teaching high school?"

"Nothing, if you don't mind living a frustrating, unfulfilled life."

"Hey!" Edward said with an indignant sniff. "I'd be a good teacher."

"Of course you would, Edward, you'd be good at anything you chose to do. But that doesn't mean you'd be happy doing it."

Edward glowered at him.

Carlisle chuckled and ruffled Edward's hair, making him duck away. "Go do your homework, or none of these programs will have you."

"Whatever." He hauled himself to his feet and gave my shoulder a shove as he passed me on the way to the door. "See ya, Bella."

I watched him walk away, then turned and arched an eyebrow at Carlisle. "Aren't you being a little critical?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I'm just playing devil's advocate. Edward likes to argue with me."

"Apparently." I shifted onto my knees and threw a leg across his lap, straddling him. "It's good to see you guys getting along, even if you do have to argue to do it."

He nodded, running his hands over my hips. "You're not going to distract me, you know."

"Why, Dr. Cullen," I said, batting my eyelashes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you don't. But if you don't tell me how you want to celebrate your birthday, I'll have to surprise you. And I know how you feel about surprises."

"They're bad," I said firmly, reiterating his point. "They're always bad. When you read about someone trying to plan a surprise in a novel, you can pretty much guarantee that there will be pointless misunderstandings and unnecessary fuckery."

"Isn't the plot of your favorite Shakespeare play based solely on pointless misunderstandings and unnecessary fuckery?"

I glowered at him. "Things that make good fiction are rarely the sorts of things that make for a pleasant reality."

"I guess you'd better tell me, then."

I settled down onto his lap and wriggled against him, catching his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "I want," I whispered, pulling back slowly, "to go home with you and spend the entire evening naked in your bed."

"Mmmm . . ." He kissed me again, his hands sliding beneath my shirt and caressing my sides. "Nice try, Isabella."

"What?" I poked my lip out, blatantly pouting at his refusal. "Don't you think I should get to choose how we spend the day?"

"You're not locking yourself away with an old man on your twenty-first birthday."

"But I like my old man." I nipped at his ear lobe and kissed my way down his neck, still trying to distract him. He seemed oblivious to my efforts.

"Would you like to go to a club? Have your first legal drink?"

"No." I nibbled softly at his neck. "I don't like clubs."

"Out to dinner? I have some pull with a fair number of culinary instructors. I'm sure I could get us reservations to some place with an impressive wine list."

"I don't like food either." I tugged back his collar and dipped my tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat, catching him in a moment of weakness and eliciting a low moan.

"I'm not going to be distracted," he said again, though he sounded a little breathless. "Do whatever you want with that evil little mouth of yours, but I won't forget about your birthday."

"Really?" I asked, deliberately misinterpreting his words. "Whatever I want?" I reached between us and popped open the button of his slacks, and he groaned. Before I could get the zipper undone, he grabbed my wrists and twisted me onto my back, pinning me down with his body as he stretched my hands over my head.

"Naughty, naughty girl," he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear. "I may have to put you in time out."

"Does time out involve you taking off my clothes and fucking me?"

He chuckled, low and dark, as his free hand crept beneath my shirt and started fondling my breast through my bra. "No. It involves me leaving you here all alone while I go arrange a surprise birthday celebration for you."

I scowled at him. "You're a cruel, cruel man."

"And you're a beautiful, alluring, young girl who deserves to have the properly clichéd experience of ringing in her twenty-first birthday with excessive amounts of alcohol and the company of people her age."

I grinned. I couldn't help it. He'd said the magic word. "Fine, you're right. We'll hit a couple of clubs with Jacob and Rosalie—and Edward, if you'll lighten up a little about him drinking. But at the end of the night I'm coming home with you, and I'm expecting to be fucked into oblivion."

He buried his head in my neck and moaned softly as his hand kneaded my breast. "That sounds perfectly reasonable."

"But no gifts."

His hand stilled and he raised his head. "No deal."

"Oh, come on!" I recognized that I was being whiny, and I tried to modify my tone into something less petulant. "I don't need gifts. I already have you, and you're everything I could ever want."

"Exactly. You have me, and we have a real, honest-to-god relationship. Which gives me carte blanche when it comes to gifts. It's my right as your . . . boyfriend."

I didn't miss his hesitation. He was still getting used to the labels that came along with commitment, and I knew that was one he struggled with. I couldn't blame him. It seemed like such a silly, superficial term, inadequate to describe what he was to me.

And once again, he had come up with an argument that defeated me. Because I wasn't about to do anything to make our relationship feel any less legitimate to him. Anyway, he was right. This did sort of come along with the territory. There wasn't anything on God's green earth that could stop me from giving him something on his birthday.

"Just don't go nuts, okay? A nice book would do the trick. Maybe one of yours?"

He just laughed at my hopeful suggestion. "I don't think the purpose of giving gifts is to punish the receiver. No, my love, I have something else in mind."

"Like what? Are you going to strong-arm Dr. Berty into going easy on me when I defend my thesis? Because that would actually be kind of awesome."

"And wholly unnecessary." He tweaked my nipple and buried his head in my neck again, his lips tracing a path across my sensitive skin. He still had my hands secured above my head, but I made no effort to move them, fully enjoying his ministrations.

"Does it involve sex? Because if it does, I'm willing to keep an open mind."

"You'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out."

I was about to press him a little more when I heard a key slide into the lock. I blew out my breath in a huff and muttered, "Jacob." It had to be him. There was no way Alice had come back when there was potential for seeing Emmett.

Carlisle growled softly and withdrew his hand from beneath my shirt. "That boy needs to learn to knock."

I giggled as the deadbolt clicked open and the key slid into the lock on the doorknob. "Don't move. Maybe if he walks in on us a couple of times, he'll get the point."

The door swung open even as I was finished talking, and sure enough, Jacob's "Oh, shit," told me that he was probably regretting his decision to let himself in. But the gruff voice that came after it froze my blood and made me stiffen beneath Carlisle's solid frame.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I couldn't see the door from my position on the couch, but that wasn't a voice I could mistake. I wrenched my hands out of Carlisle's grasp and pushed him off of me, scrambling to my feet.

"Dad!"

He barely glanced at me, his attention focused almost solely on Carlisle. "Do you want to explain what the fuck you're doing with my daughter?" he demanded, his face going red.

I started toward Charlie, in an attempt to placate him, but Carlisle's hand shot out and grabbed my arm, dragging me back to him. I looked up at him, startled, and was shocked to see the dark fury roiling behind his eyes.

"Carlisle—" I said softly, but Charlie's angry yell interrupted me.

"Get your goddamn hands off of my little girl!"

"Charlie," Billy's soft voice drifted in from outside, the single step in front of the door hindering his progress into the apartment. He and Jacob were both hanging back, looking on wide-eyed, but Billy looked like he would very much like to intercede.

Charlie ignored him, though, stalking toward us, his temper flaring when Carlisle pushed me behind him and put himself between my father and me.

"I strongly recommend you get your temper under control before you approach her," Carlisle said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Carlisle—"

"I don't need permission from you to speak to my own daughter!"

"Dad!" I looked frantically back and forth between them completely caught off guard by the sudden confrontation in my apartment—and by the fact that neither one of them was paying me the slightest bit of attention.

"If you know what's good for you," Carlisle growled, "you'll walk out that door and leave her be."

"No, he doesn't have to leave." I pushed around Carlisle and stepped toward Charlie, but Carlisle pulled me back against his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around me. One hand settling over my throat.

Charlie's eyes widened, his face turning a frightening shade of purple as he went positively apoplectic. He started toward Carlisle, his fists balled up in front of him, but he had no idea what he was getting himself into. With speed I had never seen from him, Carlisle pushed me down onto the couch and jumped in front of me to meet Charlie. He threw a swift punch, catching Charlie hard across the jaw and sending him staggering back a couple of steps.

"Stop it!" I jumped up and inserted myself between them, trying to hold them apart as they closed on each other once again. "Jacob, help me!"

Jacob snapped out of his stunned silence and darted forward, dragging Charlie a safe distance back from Carlisle.

"Isabella Swan, get outside right now!" Charlie bellowed.

"No." Carlisle pulled me back into his arms again, murmuring softly to me. "Stay close to me. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Hurt me? No, Carlisle—"

"Jacob, let go of me. Isabella! I told you to get outside, young lady—"

"STOP IT!" I yelled, fighting the urge to clap my hands over my ears. "Both of you stop it right now! This is ridiculous!"

"Who the hell is he?" Charlie demanded, rubbing his jaw.

I looked back and forth between the two of them, but they didn't seem like they were going to start throwing punches again, so I crossed my arms over my chest. "Dad, this is Carlisle."

"Car—"

"Dr. Cullen," Carlisle interrupted him sharply, his eyes flashing.

Charlie raised a challenging eyebrow. "Doctor?"

"He's a professor at USC," I explained.

"God damn it, Bella! You're screwing around with your professor?"

"Not my professor."

"My professor," Jacob spoke up. He had moved behind Billy's wheelchair and was maneuvering it up over the low step and into the apartment.

I glared at him. "You're not helping."

He just shrugged.

"And I'm not 'screwing around' with him," I said, turning back to Charlie. "Carlisle is my boyfriend."

"Like hell, he is." Charlie started toward him again, but Jacob leapt forward and dragged him back by his collar as Carlisle pulled me against him.

"Dad, stop it. I don't know what's wrong with the two of you, but you're acting like bratty little kids."

"I can take care of this for you," Carlisle whispered, lowering his lips to my ear. "Say the word and I'll make sure he leaves and doesn't come back."

"What? No." I turned in his arms, giving him a puzzled look. "Carlisle, he's my dad."

"I know." He shot Charlie a dark look, fully aware that he could hear our conversation. "I understand if you feel you have a certain obligation to him, but you don't have to allow him to treat you this way."

"Treat me . . . what? He's just a little mad, that's all. I mean, sure, he's overreacting," I shot him a pointed look, "but it's not a big deal."

"I am not overreacting! I walk in here to find some opportunistic sleaze taking advantage of my daughter—"

"If you can't be quiet I'm going to send you to my room," I interrupted.

His eyes darkened, but I only smirked.

"I mean it. As long as you're under my roof, you'll obey my rules. Now behave yourself."

"Maybe we should leave," Carlisle said. "We can go back to my house."

"We're not going anywhere. I want both of you to sit down and air your grievances like adults."

Carlisle regarded Charlie warily, and neither one of them made a move to sit down.

"Oh, for god's sake. You're both being ridiculous." I moved to the couch and sat down, hoping they would join me. "First of all, Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I . . ." He cleared his throat and glanced at Billy as Jacob wheeled him over to the couch. He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked down at the floor. "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday."

I turned back to Carlisle, one eyebrow raised. "See what I'm saying about surprises?"

He didn't even crack a smile.

"Will you sit, please?"

He moved wordlessly to the couch and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his.

"Dad?"

He glowered at Carlisle and sat on my other side, also taking my hand. Billy followed, wheeling his chair next to the couch but keeping silent.

Jacob smirked at both of them and plopped down on the coffee table facing us. "I should have brought popcorn."

I ignored him and turned back to Charlie. "Thank you for coming. I mean it, it means a lot to me. But things would be a lot less awkward if you'd have called first."

"Things would be a lot less awkward if you weren't sleeping with your professors."

Carlisle tensed and I squeezed his hand, trying to keep him calm even as I felt myself getting irritated. "Seriously?" I said to Charlie. "Are you going to sit here and insult me? Because if so, maybe Carlisle is right. Maybe you should leave."

He pursed his lips in protest, but he looked contrite. "This is a bad idea, Bella."

"I'm willing to concede that the situation is potentially problematic, but I think Carlisle and I are doing a pretty good job of making it work."

"It's not his business," Carlisle said coldly.

I turned to him, feeling irritated. "Do you have to bait him? I honestly don't understand what has you so worked up."

He gave Charlie a hard look. "I don't appreciate the way he behaves toward you. Being your father doesn't give him the right to mistreat you."

"Oh." It was the distaste in his voice when he said the word "father" that made me realize what was wrong. I let go of Charlie's hand and covered his with both of mine. "Carlisle, it's not like that with us. My dad is good to me. Sometimes we don't see eye to eye—like now—but he's never . . . done that."

Carlisle gave Charlie a mistrustful look.

"Hey." I reached up and touched his cheek, guiding his gaze back down to mine. "Sometimes parents aren't so bad. In fact, sometimes they're pretty great. Charlie and I get along just fine."

Charlie cleared his throat pointedly at my use of his name, a habit he had never appreciated, but I just rolled my eyes.

"Of course, sometimes he overreacts over the most ridiculous little things and we end up arguing for a while, but I promise, he's not going to hurt me."

"Hurt you?" Charlie sounded even angrier than before. "You're accusing me of abusing my daughter when you—"

"Dad, seriously, if you can't relax I'm going to make you stand in the corner."

"Bella—"

"No, I mean it. This sucks for you, I get it. It's not easy finding out that your daughter is dating an older man, and it's really not easy finding that out about it the way you did. This hasn't been your day; I'll give you that.

"But the fact is, I am dating Carlisle, and I think he's amazing. He's good to me, he's never tried to take advantage of me, and there's nothing about our relationship that either one of us needs to be ashamed of. I'm happy. If you choose to be unhappy, that's your problem. I don't want to hear about it."

Charlie stared at me, momentarily dumbstruck, and Jacob snickered.

"'Atta girl, Bella."

"Jacob, stay out of it," Billy said. He was staying characteristically quiet, letting Charlie and me work through our issues without interference, but I had no doubt I would hear from him eventually. I welcomed it. Billy's opinion carried weight because his words were usually carefully thought out.

At least, they were where I was concerned. With his own kids, he could be every bit as reactionary as Charlie. But then it was usually Charlie who was the one to offer his objectivity.

"This is a bad idea," Charlie said, drawing my attention back to him. "If you continue this farce of a relationship, you'll regret it."

I released Carlisle's had and folded my arms over my chest, leaning back against him as I glared at Charlie. "First of all, if you call my relationship a farce again, this conversation is over. Second, I don't believe I will regret it. But even if I do, that's my choice to make. I think Carlisle is worth the risk.

There was a knock on the open door, and Edward poked his head in. "Hey, Bella, do you—" He broke off, looking at the group gathered in the living room. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Do I what?"

He eyed Charlie and Carlisle, taking in their hostile body language, and a slow smile crossed his face. "I was going to ask if you had a fondue pot, but this is way more interesting." He crossed to the coffee table and nudged Jacob over, taking a seat next to him. "What's going on?"

"Bella's dad walked in on her and your dad making out on the couch, and then they yelled at each other, and then your dad punched her dad."

Charlie turned wide eyes on Edward. "This is his son?" he demanded, gaping at Edward. "He's the same age as you, Bella!"

"Older, actually," Edward said with a wide smile. He offered Charlie his hand. "How are you? I'm Edward. Nice to meet you."

Charlie didn't bother shaking his hand. He turned back to me, his face going red. "Please tell me he's married. That would just be the icing on the cake."

"Thank you, father, for assuming the worst." I stood up and grabbed Carlisle's hand, pulling him up with me. "We're going for a walk so that you have a chance to decide whether you want to talk rationally about this now or leave for the night and try again in the morning."

"Can I come?" Edward asked brightly.

"No. Go home." I strode out the door without waiting for an answer, pulling Carlisle along after me.

The tension seemed to ease out of him as we walked across the parking lot to the sidewalk. The more space we put between us and my father, the more he relaxed. Finally, about a block away from the apartment, he stopped and pulled me into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I just . . . I'm sorry."

"You should be." I tried to suppress my smile, but I couldn't. "You punched my dad in the face."

"He was yelling at you."

"Sometimes dads do that."

"They shouldn't."

"Whatever. You've yelled at Edward."

He looked away. "I'm not exactly a paragon of virtue. You shouldn't use my behavior as a model."

I laughed out loud at the absurdity of his position. "Are you kidding me? You honestly think it's wrong for parents to yell at their kids?"

"There are . . . better ways to handle things."

"Sure, I'll give you that. But people aren't perfect, and sometimes there's yelling." I pulled back and took his hands in mine. "Living one extreme has made you run to the other, Carlisle. You're an extreme pacifist. Which would be okay, except you let relatively mild friction freak you out."

He frowned.

"When you yelled at Edward, you thought it was the end of your relationship, didn't you? And now with dad and me fighting, you're getting all worked up again. But the fact is, disagreements are an inevitable part of a relationship."

Carlisle dropped his eyes and squeezed my hands. "I'm sorry. I'm . . . I'm out of my league, here. This is the sort of thing you shouldn't have to explain to me."

"I can think of worse things." I squeezed his hands back. "But we need some ground rules, okay? No more punching my dad."

He pressed his lips together, clearly unwilling to accept my terms. "If he lays a hand on you . . ."

"Okay, fair enough. If my dad hurts me—physically—you have my permission to kick his ass."

Carlisle blinked in surprise, and I smiled.

"That's how sure I am that he won't. It's a non-issue."

"He's very angry, Bella."

I grinned. "This is nothing. You should have seen him when I stole his gun out of his closet and accidentally shot out the tire on his police cruiser. I thought his head was going to explode."

Carlisle flinched, looking horrified at my story.

"But see, that's what I mean. He yelled so loud he made my ears ring, and he probably would have been justified in beating my ass black and blue, but he didn't. He doesn't do that."

He turned away, looking resigned, but kept one of my hands in his as he started walking again. For several long minutes he didn't say anything, but finally he spoke, his eyes fixed on some point far in the distance. "You didn't tell him about us."

It wasn't a question, and his bleak tone made me nervous. "Uh—no. Not yet."

Another long moment passed before he spoke again, his voice slightly colder this time. "I told you I wasn't interested in a relationship you were ashamed of."

"What?" I stopped again and pulled him around to face me. "I'm not ashamed of our relationship."

"Yet you didn't tell your father about it."

"I didn't want him to yell at me!"

His expression softened. "You're afraid of him?"

"No." I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling a little dizzy from the circular conversation. "I'm not afraid of my dad, but I knew he wasn't going to take it all that well, and I don't particularly enjoy fighting with him." I looked up at Carlisle, silently praying that he would understand. "I knew I was going to have to tell him eventually. I guess I just put it off."

He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. "This . . . this is not something I know how to handle. On the one hand, I remember quite clearly how I felt about my father, and I want you as far away from that man as possible. On the other hand, I know how I feel about my son, and I'm terrified of coming between you two."

"My relationship with my dad isn't anywhere near as fucked up as your relationship was with yours. And it's not delicate like your relationship with Edward is." I gazed up at him, willing him to trust me. "Just let me handle him. We've done this dance a hundred times, and we'll do it a hundred more. I know the steps pretty well by now."

"I'll stay close. Just in case."

I bit my lip, hoping what I was about to say wouldn't upset him too much. "Actually, maybe you should let me talk to him alone."

"No." His voice was gentle, but firm. "I won't risk it."

"There's no risk. Plus, he'll be less defensive if you're not there."

He gazed down at me, intense vulnerability shining in his eyes. "I'm afraid of losing you. I'm afraid he'll make you see that I'm not suitable for you."

"But you are."

"I'm not, Bella." He shook his head sadly. "You deserve—"

"I deserve to be with the person I love. And so do you. I'm in this all the way, Carlisle. I didn't give up on us before, and I'm not going to now."

He slid his arms around my waist, cradling my head against his chest. He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "I'm not used to this. The last person—the only person—to offer me this kind of commitment . . . was Esme."

I smiled wryly. "Yeah, don't go leaving me for my own good like you did with her, okay? I should get a say in the matter."

He slid a hand up to the back of my neck, his fingertips circling around to rest on my pulse point. "I promise."

"Will you give me tonight to talk with my dad? Please?"

He nodded, looking resigned. "You'll call me when you're finished? To let me know you're all right?"

"It could be late," I warned.

"I understand."

"I'll call you."

We headed back toward the apartment, strolling slowly, enjoying each other for a few more minutes before we had to rejoin the craziness inside my apartment. We didn't talk but I held Carlisle's hand and rubbed his arm, trying to communicate my dedication to him through body language.

Charlie was pacing the living room when I let us back into the apartment. He opened his mouth to speak, but I put up a hand to stop him. "In a minute." I glowered at Edward, who, of course, hadn't gone home, and then started helping Carlisle gather up his things. I walked him back to the door once he had everything, and he shot a dark look over my shoulder at Charlie before leaning down and kissing me deeply.

"Call me," he reminded me quietly, then pulled open the door and disappeared outside.

Edward was snickering from his perch on the coffee table. "Territorial motherfucker, isn't he?"

"Didn't I tell you to leave?"

"Yeah, but by now you should be used to the fact that I never listen to you." His expression turned serious. "Is everything okay?"

I shook my head dismissively. "You think we have daddy issues."

He snickered again.

I moved to Billy's side, leaning down for a hug and a peck on the cheek. "It's good to see you, Billy."

"You too, Bella. Only I have to say, I'm pretty surprised by the circumstances." He arched an eyebrow at me as I pulled away. "You've never been one to make foolish decisions."

I braced a hand on my hip. "You're right, I haven't. Which is why I would think you'd give me the benefit of the doubt, instead of assuming that I've jumped into some kind of seedy relationship with my professor." I was speaking to Billy, but my comments were aimed directly at my father.

"She's got a point," Edward said.

"Shut up, Edward."

"What? I was taking your side!"

"I don't need you to take my side. I need you to go home."

He snorted. "Yeah, like there's any chance of that."

Charlie ignored him. "After what I walked in on, you expect me to believe that you're not being taken advantage of? He was lying on top of you!"

"And I wasn't complaining," I said, wishing the confidence in my tone wasn't being undermined by the heat creeping across my cheeks. I may not have been ashamed of my relationship, but talking about this with my father was just plain embarrassing.

"That's not right, Bella."

"Why not? You weren't nearly this upset about me sleeping with Mike."

"Mike wasn't twice your age!"

I could tell that Charlie wasn't in the right mindset for a rational conversation, so I decided to redirect. I hadn't even said a proper hello to him. I dropped the arms that I had folded over my chest and crossed the room to him, hugging him around the waist. "Thanks for coming to visit me. I've really missed you."

"Are you trying to change the subject?" he asked gruffly, his arms wrapping around me.

"No. I'm just trying to put it off until after I've told my dad that I love him and I'm happy to see him. Don't worry, you can yell at me some more in a minute."

He squeezed me tightly and kissed the top of my head. "I'm happy to see you too, baby girl."

"How's Sue?" I asked, peeking up at him. I expected him to get self-conscious and glance away.

He looked puzzled. "Sue? She's fine. Says to send you her love."

"That's sweet of her." I watched for a reaction, but he didn't seem interested in talking about Sue.

"Are you going to tell me what's been going on?"

I pulled back and grabbed his hand, tugging him back to the couch. "What's to tell? I started dating a guy. You disapprove. This is pretty much par for the course, isn't it?"

"I'm not that bad. I haven't disapproved of all your boyfriends."

I gave him a silent stare.

"Maybe I haven't exactly approved of them, but that's not the same thing."

I snorted. "I'm glad you see a difference."

"How'd you meet this Cullen guy?"

"The library. I was doing homework; he was researching a book. I saw him every day for months, and then one day we started talking."

"And that's when he convinced you that it wasn't sick and perverted for a professor to date a student?"

"No, that's when I convinced him."

Charlie let out an exasperated sigh. "You see this?" he said, pointing to his graying temples. "This is because of you."

I giggled.

"Bella," Billy said, reaching out to put a hand on my knee, "there are good reasons that people usually date within their peer group."

"Like what?"

"Expectations," he said simply. "People want different things at different points in their lives. For example, your professor might be in a much bigger hurry to get married and settle down than you are."

"Trust me, Carlisle isn't in any rush. In fact, I'm not sure he'll ever want to get married."

"And what about you?" Charlie asked. "That's not fair to you."

I shrugged. "I'm not all that motivated to get married, either. What's the big deal if we don't?"

"You're okay living your life without a commitment from him?" Jacob asked, sounding appalled.

"Who says we can't commit? I love him, and if things keep going the way they're going, I expect I'll move in with him eventually."

Edward snorted. "Like he doesn't already practically live here."

Charlie turned wide eyes on Edward, who threw up his hands defensively.

"Don't look at me, I tried to break the two of them up. It wouldn't stick."

Charlie turned to me, gesturing toward Edward. "You see? This relationship obviously makes Cullen's son uncomfortable."

"Oh, it does not. Edward was just being a little shit."

"That's true, I was," Edward agreed remorselessly.

"What about children?" Billy asked. "He's obviously already past that point in his life. Do you think he would want to do it again?"

"I know he wouldn't. Choosing a future with Carlisle means choosing a future without kids. But I was never really all that excited about having kids, so that wasn't a hard decision for me."

"Besides, she can be my mom," Edward said with a wide grin.

"Edward, go home."

"No." He smirked. "You can't tell me what to do, you're not my mom."

Jacob seemed to think he was hilarious, but Charlie and Billy both gave him bemused looks.

"Is he always like this?" Charlie asked.

"Pretty much."

He heaved a sigh. "Look, baby, it's not just about expectations and choices. Having a relationship with someone that much older than you . . . it causes an imbalance of power."

"Power?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "Since when are relationships about power?"

"Since always. It can be really difficult to find the right balance."

"He's right," Billy said. "When you two disagree on something, you're less likely to stand up for yourself if you see your partner as wiser and more experienced."

"Hm." Edward looked at me thoughtfully. "You know, I don't think Bella really has a problem there. In fact, if anything, I think the old man pretty much lets her call the shots. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Charlie said warily.

Edward grinned. "He doesn't like it when she gets mad at me." He kicked my foot and I kicked him back.

"He's irrationally protective of Edward."

"It's not irrational. I'm his only child. The hope of his genetic future. Plus, I'm delightful."

I snickered, but Charlie just frowned at him. "Bella, maybe we could take a walk? I'd really like it if we could have a private conversation."

Edward laughed and pushed himself to his feet. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving." He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips, jumping back with a smirk before I could shove him away.

"Would you quite doing that?"

"What, a boy can't show his future stepmother how much he loves her?" He winked at me and waved to Charlie. "See ya, Gramps."

Charlie's eyes went wide, but Edward was out the door before he had time to respond.

"Jacob," Billy said softly, "why don't you and I give Charlie and Bella a few minutes? We can go pick up something for dinner." "Sure," Jacob said. He kissed me as well—on the cheek, which I much preferred—and he and Billy headed outside, carefully maneuvering the wheelchair down the low step before pulling the door closed behind them.

"Dad, I love him," I said before he could raise any more objections. "I know it makes you uncomfortable, but there isn't much I wouldn't do to make things work with Carlisle."

"Have you thought about the fact that he's going to die earlier than you?" Charlie asked. "I mean, let's say he lives into his seventies. That means you'll be, what, in your fifties? That may seem old to you now, but it's amazing how fast that comes. Do you really think you'll be prepared to lose him that young?"

"No. I'll never be ready to lose him. But I'm not going to pass up the chance of a relationship with him just because I'm going to lose him someday."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, sitting back on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. "Baby, you're twenty-one years old. You're too young to be making long-term decisions like this. You're supposed to be out on your own, learning, exploring, figuring out who you are."

"I am. And it's amazing—no less so because I'm doing it with someone that I love."

"What happens if you learn something about yourself that doesn't . . . doesn't fit with your relationship."

I cocked my head. "What do you mean."

"I mean . . . well . . ." He shifted again. "I love your mother. I always will, you know that."

I was utterly perplexed by the shift in the conversation. "Yeah, I know."

"When I married her, I couldn't . . . I didn't . . . there were things I didn't understand about myself."

"Like what?"

He tightened his arms around his chest, staring at his knees. "Bella, I'm gay."

My jaw dropped.

He cast a furtive glance at me, and then looked away quickly.

I stared at him for long, shocked moment before logic started working its way through my brain. "No you're not," I said, confused. "You can't be. What about Sue?"

It was Charlie's turn to be confused. "What about Sue?"

"You're dating her!"

"What? What gave you that idea?"

"Rachel said everybody knows . . . and you guys sent me care packages."

Charlie snorted. "That's just Sue being a mother hen. With Harry gone and her kids getting more independent, she needed somebody to take care of. She does the same thing for Jacob."

"Oh." That made sense, but I was having a hard time shifting gears in my head. My dad wasn't dating Sue Clearwater? My dad was gay? How was that even possible? "Holy shit."

Charlie winced, and he looked at me with a mixture of fear, anxiety, longing, and even a little defensiveness that seemed oddly familiar. It took me a moment to place it as the same mix of emotions I had seen on Carlisle's face so often when Edward was giving him a hard time.

My dad was afraid I would reject him.

I reached across the space between us and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. And my dad, who was always so uncomfortable with any kind of affectionate display, melted and hugged me back, crushing me against him.

"I love you so much," I said, clinging to him.

"I love you too, baby."

I hugged him for several long moments, reassuring him that he had nothing to worry about, but I was burning with curiosity. New questions kept popping up as I shuffled through a lifetime of memories, looking at them in a whole new light. Twenty years worth of summers in Forks, fishing trips, sleepovers with Jacob . . .

"Billy!" I exclaimed, jumping back with a start.

Charlie smiled sheepishly, crossing his arms over his chest again.

"Those weren't fishing trips, those were booty calls!"

I was only teasing, but Charlie hunched his shoulders and glowered down at the floor.

I clapped my hands over my mouth. "Oh my god, they were!"

"They weren't booty calls," he grumbled. "We went fishing. That's all. We just . . . got a little closer after a while."

"After how long a while? Were you screwing around with Billy when you were married to Mom?"

"No, Bella, and that's exactly my point. This wasn't something I understood about myself when I was your age. What if you learned something like that about yourself—something big—only you were tied down to this professor of yours and didn't have the freedom to explore it?"

I considered his words for a minute before giving a nod of concession. "Okay, that's a valid point. But at what age should I be confident that I know myself well enough that I can settle down with someone? How long do I have to wait to be happy?"

"I don't know." He sighed and slid an arm around my waist. "Maybe you're right to go for it. I sure as hell don't pretend to have all the answers."

"Okay, how about this?" I said. "I promise to be open to any new developments that I discover about myself, regardless of the situation that I might be in. I promise to be honest about them with you and with Carlisle, and to make responsible and thoughtful decisions about them as they come up."

Charlie chuckled and shook his head. "I swear, Bella. Sometimes I think you were a better parent to your mom and me than we ever were to you."

I shrugged. "Maybe our family is a little abnormal, but it's a good one. Carlisle tells me sometimes that he envies our relationships because he never had anything like them."

"Carlisle." Charlie sighed heavily. "Do you know how weird it is trying to think of a man my own age as a potential son-in-law?"

"Do you know how weird it is to suddenly find out that Billy is more than just your best friend?"

He smiled ruefully.

"How long?" I asked him. "When did you two start . . . ?"

Thankfully, he jumped in and didn't make me clarify my question. "You remember that Pride Festival that you and Jacob wanted to go to when you were fifteen?"

I laughed. "I remember you wouldn't let me."

"You're damn right, I wouldn't let you, and it was a good decision. You were too young for all that . . . adult content."

I snickered. "You remember high school, don't you?"

He glowered at me. "Anyway, I went to it, and I realized that times were changing. I talked to Billy about it and . . . things just sort of happened."

"Wow." I mulled over this new information in my head. "You guys waited a long time."

He was back to being self-conscious again. "Well, you know. He had Sarah, and then she died and it took him a long time to get over that." He hunched his shoulders again, clearly uncomfortable about sharing the details of his relationship.

"Are you happy?"

He nodded, staring at his hands. "It's Billy. How could I not be happy?"

His answer put a smile on my face. "That's all I need to know."

"That's what I want for you too," he said, giving me a squeeze.

"Oh yeah? You know what would go a long way toward making me happy? If you would be nice to Carlisle." I gave him a pointed look and he grimaced.

"He's the one who punched me, you know."

"He's protective. And he's sensitive to violence. He didn't like you yelling at me."

"You won't let him hold you back?" he asked.

"I promise."

"All right, fine. I'll . . . try to be nicer."

"Thank you." I stood up and pulled my phone from my pocket. "I'm going to give him a call and let him know that we've worked things out so he'll quit worrying. And you might want to put some ice on your jaw. It's starting to bruise."

"Bella," Charlie said before I could leave, "maybe you could . . . ask him if he wants to come back and have dinner with us."

"Really?"

He scowled, his invitation obviously a reluctant one. "If he's going to be a part of your life, I guess he and I are going to have to get to know each other."

I smiled broadly and bent down to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy! You're the best!"