I know you wanna leave me,
But I refuse to let you go,
If I have to beg, plead for your sympathy,
I don't mind 'cause you mean that much to me.

Now I've heard a cryin' man
Is half a man with no sense of pride,
But if I have to cry to keep you,
I don't mind weepin' if it'll keep you by my side.

Ain't Too Proud To Beg - The Temptations

Her back was pressed against the rough, mossy bark of a tree, with nothing but the sounds of birds and their heavy breathing to break the silence. She'd stopped caring about what it would take to get the stain out of the back of her shirt as soon as his hands were on her. The heat from his chest and the ambient heat of a summer day were stifling, though it wouldn't have made a difference to her either way. His lips on her throat, the low groan as her fingers wound their way into his hair, was making her head swim, and every rational and sensible thought had long since gone out the window. He pulled away for a moment, but she only gripped him tighter.

"Gee, aren't you supposed to buy me dinner first?" he chuckled. She pursed her lips before finally conceding to catch her breath.

"You're right. What would the neighbors think?" He snorted, brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

"I think I created a monster."

"Maybe," she smirked. "Or just poked it with a stick." He raised a single eyebrow, and she immediately turned red.

"Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You started it," he laughed. With another kiss, he melted her pouting away. She couldn't stay annoyed with him, even if she wanted to.

"I didn't drag you away from something important, did I? I wasn't really thinking." She wasn't really thinking now, either. It was impossible.

"You sure as hell wouldn't have to drag me. I'd much rather be here," he replied. "Wait, don't you have work too?"

"They won't miss me for a little while. The store was dead."

"Yep. A monster."

It would be fine. Probably. The Newtons wouldn't be back from Portland until dinnertime. She locked up, she flipped the sign, and everything was in order. No harm, no foul. Her mind was elsewhere for the entire shift. She gave that plumber the wrong change, and she must have walked back and forth between the shelves and the storage room twenty times, always forgetting what she came in for. She wouldn't have been much use there anyways.

But those hands. Dear Lord, those hands. Even just flashing that little smile, which was soon replaced with something much more intense, heavy, magnetic, was enough to send a jolt of lighting all the way down her spine. He was so careful at first, but with some encouragement, he let himself loose, and it became a battle to see who could last the longest without coming up for air.

Tongue was a new one for her, but it took only a moment to get used to before concluding that she liked it. Through the combined power of her inexperience and Edward's old-fashioned sensibilities, her first kiss, and every one that came after it, was soft and chaste. She should have been grateful for that. Other girls dated pigs, walking breathing testaments to the validity of the phrase 'Guys only want one thing.' Other girls either messed around with them and were thereafter 'easy,' or said no and were labeled a tease. Edward never tried anything. Edward didn't want to.

"I should probably head back soon," she murmured. His hot breath behind her ear and the rumble in his throat prompted goosebumps to sprout all over her body.

"Awww, five more minutes," he whined with a playful nip to her ear. She giggled.

"I think we both know it wouldn't be five minutes. Not if you keep...Oh."

It seemed he was trying to test her willpower, and succeeding. She was already on the verge of losing. She lightly pushed him backwards, just barely enough space between them that she could think clearly.

"I really should go."

"But I don't want you to."

"I don't want to either, but the only way you'll get a repeat is if Mr. Newton doesn't kill me for sneaking out."

"Fine," he huffed with mock annoyance. "Tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place?"

"I have work, remember? And so do you, assuming you make it through the night." She rolled her eyes.

"Afterwards, then."

"It's a date." He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around her for a deep parting kiss that threatened to pull her back and away from reality once again, like a strong current dragging her out to sea.

The rest of the day was mercilessly dull. It took everything she had not to close early. Twenty minutes. Fifteen. Twelve. Nine. Seven. Six.

"Close enough," she sighed. Her date tonight was with the stove and a mop, but at least she'd be home. Just a quiet evening with Charlie.

She shut their front door gingerly behind her in case her father was asleep in his chair again, not an uncommon sight the day after his late night shifts. Instead, there was a baseball game playing on the television, barely audible over her own footsteps.

"Hi, Dad," she said with a wave before slinking away to the kitchen. He rose with a long grunt and followed her.

"Evening, kiddo. How was work?"

"Oh, you know. The usual," she replied, her head stuck in the fridge in search of ground beef. "The Robinsons are blowing through fuses like there's no tomorrow, which might actually be what's keeping the shop's lights on these days, oddly enough. How was your day?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." His voice was low and fatigued.

"It's not the bears again, is it? I thought breeding season was almost over."

"It's not bears, Bella. It's Eddie." She groaned under her breath and upon finding what she was looking for, shut the door.

"What about him?"

"He called here this morning asking for you. I took his messages but stopped answering after the third call." She wandered over to the pantry and began filing through its contents.

"I was thinking Frito pie for tonight. Do we have refried beans? Hmm…"

"Bella?"

"Looks like we don't. Doesn't matter. I can make it with black beans instead. It'll probably healthier."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," she said flatly. "Edward called. I'll alert the press."

"Well, aren't you going to call him back?"

"I have nothing to say to him." She withdrew a large knife from the drawer and decided to take out her current frustrations on an onion. She had no interest in anything Edward had to say. Being reminded of his existence was smothering the butterflies that had recently taken up residence in her stomach.

'He's your boyfriend. You can't act like this." A stroke of the knife came down especially hard onto the cutting board. If she didn't pay better attention, she was going to lose a finger.

"We're over, Dad," she said firmly. "I told him as much last time he called, and when I see him again, we'll be officially over."

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "The boy is miserable, but he still loves you enough to try to get you back. You've made your point. Now go make up before he changes his mind."

"No."

"Bella," he warned.

"Dad, this is none of your business. I'm a grown woman, and I can decide for myself who I do or don't date." His mustache twitched.

"You're my daughter. You are my business. And I don't care how old you are; you're still a child, running around at night with all these 'friends' I've never heard of and dressing like your mother."

She'd finally reached the limit of her patience with Charlie. Strike one was sticking his nose where it didn't belong, Strike two was calling her a child, but speaking ill of Renee was what did her in.

"What the hell does that mean?" His mouth popped open.

"It means that her frivolous nonsense might be alright in Florida, but not here. Not in my house. What's gotten into you? No pride in your appearance anymore! Bad language! I agreed to all of her rules when it comes to you, but I will not let you just throw this all away because she gave you weird ideas."

"Why, so I can be trapped in a bad marriage too?"

The silence was deafening. She expected him to turn three shades of purple and send her to her room for back-talk, as if she were fifteen, but no. His face fell, and he turned tail and lumbered back into the living room. As vividly as it had gotten her point across, she knew instantly that her retort was below the belt.

"Dad," she sighed, hastily wiping her hands on a dishtowel before pursuing him. "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." He was gazing out the window, hands on his hips and refusing to look back at her. He cleared his throat, and with some hesitation, began:

"He's trying to fix it. He knows what's important, even if he might've lost sight of it for a while. I forgot what was important too once, and I've regretted it every damn day since."

"Dad…"

"'Stead of fixing it, I found something else, something that made all my problems disappear. I couldn't remember the last time I felt like that. But everything comes at a price, Bells. Everything."

He didn't like talking about it. Neither did Renee. This might've been the most he'd ever volunteered, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. Jaw set, he finally resolved to face her again, though he was not so prepared to look her in the eye.

"A man's gotta take care of what he has, defend it, honor it, be grateful for it. He's gotta keep his promises, come hell or high water, or he isn't really a man. He doesn't run off when things get rough. Eddie might've broken some promises, but at least he ain't runnin'. You understand?"

Her deep frustration with her father's uninformed advice had faded with her frown, replaced by a dusty kind of melancholy at the sight of the tired, uncommonly contrite man standing before her. However flawed his opinions were before, she did not have the heart to argue any further, only nodding and allowing him to swiftly excuse himself to the porch with a fresh pack of Marlboros. Through the window, she could see him drop into a rocking chair, his hand shaking as he attempted to light up. There he remained past sundown and late into the night.

By morning, he seemed to be back to his old self, though somehow less talkative than any typical morning. Breakfast passed by without incident or mention of the prior evening, and the rest of the morning was much the same. She donned the green canvas apron with the store's name emblazoned on the center, made brief, polite conversation with Mrs. Newton while holding her breath for any mention of her absence the day before, and tried not to be too distracted by the memories it had facilitated. Arranging boxes of screws and ball bearings was much more palatable in this dense, perfumed fog.

For the hundredth time that day, the bell clapped against the glass door, and she scurried to the front to acknowledge a new customer.

"What are you doing here?"

It was not a dirt-smudged laborer that met her at the counter, but an amber-haired adonis with wrinkled slacks and overcast eyes.

"The Chief said you'd be here."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here. In Forks." She knew she sounded harsh, but those feelings that had been simmering on the back burner were now forcing their way to the front.

"You wouldn't answer my calls. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Take me at my word? Keep going exactly how you were before?"

"Bella," he started, his voice raised in protest. He clearly thought better of it, raising a hand in defeat and starting again with a deep sigh. "I made this trip to talk, not to fight with you right out of the gate."

"Your plan's not going very well."

"Because you won't even let me speak!"

She shook her head and looked down at the notepad in front of her, pretending to read through a few scrambled figures so she wouldn't have to watch his face contort. His hair was mussed, and a bit of his shirttail was not where it should be. It was hard to stick to her guns in his presence, and even harder while taking in this state.

"There's nothing to say, Edward. My mind's made up. You should go back before your buddies start to wonder where you are."

"Dammit, Bella!" he snapped, too loudly.

"Everything alright out there?" called Mr. Newton's muffled voice.

"Yes, sir! Everything's fine!" She prayed he wouldn't walk in and complicate the matter further. "You need to go," she whispered hoarsely.

"Not without you."

"I am at work!" she hissed. "And wouldn't matter even if I wasn't."

"Then come have dinner with me."

"Not interested." He looked as if he was trying to pull his hair out by the roots.

"Just an hour to talk. A half hour. You don't even have to say anything. I'll say my piece, and then I'll go back to Seattle."

"No."

"Isabella!" he protested, markedly raising his voice again with his eyes fixed on the closed office door.

"Shhhh! Edward, are you crazy? This is a business. You can't be doing this here!"

"Then come have dinner with me."

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose to stifle the headache that she could already sense looming overhead. As much as she wanted to see him retreat to his apartment, tail between his legs, it felt inhumane, but first and foremost, she needed to not be fired for causing a scene in the store. These days, her karma was not good enough to leave this up to fate. Whatever would calm him down and get him out of there.

"Fine. One hour."

He finally released the breath he had been holding for what seemed like the entire conversation.

"Great," he said crisply. "I'll pick you up at six."

The door clicked closed once again, and she groaned, sliding down against the back wall and hoping for some miracle, like a sprained ankle or an abduction, that would release her from their agreement. A girl could dream.

She was relieved to find that he was not camped out in front of the Swan residence when she returned. Charlie was right where she left him, though now in his uniform, wandering absent-mindedly around the living room in search of what was likely his wallet.

"You'll never guess who I ran into at work," she said dryly.

"Who?"

"Really, Dad? Why did you tell him where I was?" His formerly innocent tone was abandoned, and he sighed.

"Because that's where you were, wasn't it? Work?"

"O-of course. That's not the point. You told Edward, and then he came and tried to make a scene in the store."

"Oh, Eddie wouldn't do that. Don't be so hysterical."

"I'm not! You told him where to find me, and now I have to go out with him because that was the only way I could get him to leave."

"Well, what's done is done," he said, finally locating his wallet and stowing it in his back pocket. "Might as well hear what he has to say."

"You're unbelievable." She turned heel and stomped back up the stairs. His meddling was becoming far too much. He wasn't going to influence her decision in this, no matter how many tales of woe he managed to conjure.

She had already determined that she wouldn't change clothes. This was one small hiccup, a minor cul-de-sac in what would be another warm summer evening on the reservation. A paper-thin veneer of ladylike modesty chided her for it, but was drowned out by her desire for an even warmer rendezvous with Jake than the last.

Edward's driver door closed with a thud in what felt like only minutes after Charlie's departure, as if he had been waiting in the bushes. When he appeared in the doorway, he was clean-cut and dolled up again, smiling and punctuating the almost silent drive with inoffensive questions or anecdotes, but wary, pensive, as if he was trying to read her mind. It was unsettling. Whenever he was this serious, this tense, she felt as if she were in trouble with her father, waiting for a lecture. But seeing as this futile mission was intended to persuade her, she wasn't so worried.

From the plastic seats in the booth, she could see half the town, though she wasn't sure if that was more of a statement about the diner or the town itself. He slid in on the other side, scanning all nearby surfaces that he might come in contact with. He had barely opened the menu when the waitress appeared, chipper as always.

"Evening, Bella. How're you doing?"

"Fine, and yourself?"

"Another day in paradise," she replied with a wry smile. "You want the usual?"

"Yes please, with a cherry coke."

Betty was still trying not to stare at him. Bella had seen that look countless times before, though usually with a side of venom saved especially for her when he wasn't paying attention. It used to serve as a constant reminder that she wasn't good enough for him, that there were hoards of prettier girls lying in wait to snatch him away at the first opportunity, but now it just looked desperate.

"And what about your man-friend here? You ready hon, or do you need a minute?"

"He'll have the same," Bella cut in. "But swap the swiss for cheddar."

"Got it." She plucked the menu out of his hand and gave Bella a wink before heading back to the counter. Edward, on the other hand, looked completely bewildered by the interaction. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing him squirm for a change.

"Do you come here that often?"

"Only when my Dad has night patrol." He looked nervously over towards the kitchen.

"What is the 'usual'?"

"Cheeseburger with swiss and extra pickles, fries, and onion rings. I normally get pie too, but they only have apple today." This did nothing to ease his confusion.

"Are you really going to eat all that?"

"Did you come all this way just to pass judgement on my dinner?" she asked.

"No, I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm listening." She slid her cup over from its landing spot and took a sip.

"I've been thinking about what you said," he began. "I know I could have been more attentive than I was. You might not believe me, but this internship really is all about us, Bella. It's about planning for our future. I want to be able to provide for you and give you everything you deserve. This is how I'll make that happen."

"I didn't want things, Edward. I wanted my boyfriend."

"You're going to want a couple things," he said dryly. "Like a house, cars, a better life for our children? You need money for that."

"I don't care about a pool or driving a new Cadillac if you're so married to your job that I need pills to get through the day." His eyes narrowed. She shouldn't have said that, even if it was common knowledge.

"That was a low blow, Isabella."

He's not wrong.

"It was. I'm sorry. But it's the truth, and I don't know if I even want all that to begin with."

His quizzical expression was a sign that this might have been the most honest she'd ever been with Edward, save telling her about Phil and Renee. It was not, as she always feared, some great ordeal, and she wondered why she hadn't done this earlier.

"What does that mean? You're not really suggesting-"

Ah yes. That's why.

She was rescued by the arrival of dinner, which she immediately dove into with great enthusiasm while he watched, dumbfounded by this entire scene. With some hesitation, he began nipping at his own burger, gears silently turning as he looked out through the huge panes of glass that made up much of the wall. This had admittedly been quite a lot for him to take in, especially regarding a girl he'd gone steady with for this long. There was a growing awareness that, from the very beginning, she hadn't been honest with him, though come to think of it, she hadn't been entirely honest with herself either. It hurt a little, to her surprise. Watching him try to parse out what was real from what she told him, she saw beyond all the sins that were stripping the gears in her own head. She always hated disappointing people, which perhaps is how she ended up here in the first place.

They finished their meal in silence,but their usually savvy waitress was occupied elsewhere, and the sun had already set by the time the bill arrived. His gaze from behind the wheel was fixed and intense, deep in concentration, as if he were trying to solve a math problem in his head. She didn't disturb him, and she allowed him to open her door after finally pulling into the dirt and gravel in front of her house. He didn't move. Neither did she. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, waiting either for him to speak or walk away.

"I think...that maybe we both have things to think about," he began, glancing at the ground. "I promised I'd leave you alone, and I will, if that's what you want. I'll be back in time for Rose's graduation party." He paused and pressed his lips together. "If you want to reconsider, I'll be waiting."

He took her gently by the waist, pulling her close, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Bella."

She watched his headlights grow smaller and smaller as he drove away, before disappearing around the bend. The exhaustion finally began to settle in as she shuffled back into the house, and she felt like a stake being slowly tapped into the dirt. Climbing the stairs was now a chore, as was wrenching open the squeaky door to her bedroom. A cool breeze rolled in to meet her at the threshold.

"So that's where you were."

Late again, it seems. Two surprises in one day, and the girl's already running on fumes. Looks like it's all downhill from here.

EDIT: The next chapter is going to be long, and one of the most important ones in this story. I'm hoping to have it out next week, but it's going to need more time than the others. Buckle up, kids.

Thanks for reading! Please leave your likes and reviews!