Wah. I'm not ready for this to end, y'all. I do have an epilogue I'm working on, and then some... so hopefully I can get the epilogue out this weekend.

So many people helped out with this story over the last few years (Kim, Vic, Patrizia, Livlove you guys) but I wouldn't have been able to complete it without the encouragement and guidance of sweet Hadley. She's the best, and I'm so lucky to have her as a friend.

Remember when I was like, "I'm gonna write a fun, humorous fic!" Jokes on me. But it turned into something so much more (for me, at least) and I'm so grateful to everyone who stuck around for the ride. It means everything—thank you for reading.

Now let's get those two idiots back together... :)


Instead of meeting my colleagues in the lobby, I catch a ride to the airport by myself. I text Ben on the way there, telling him I'm sorry, but something important came up, and I have to take some time off to fly out to Chicago. I don't feel too bad lying. And really, I'm not lying. Edward is important. Ben replies that he hopes everything is okay and to let him know if there's anything he can do. I merely reply thanks, and keep it at that.

Before my first flight takes off, Edward replies to the text about my bad dream.

How did you have anything but good dreams after THAT FaceTime ;)

I smile at the screen and shake my head, cheeks heating as I remember how turned on I was last night.

I don't know, I type. Definitely not reading into it. Was up at 4am though, so I'm dead.

Yikes, yeah. You at the airport?

Yes. I would've been here anyway to fly to Seattle. I just keep the part about me surprising him to myself.

Have a safe flight. Text me when you land? I'll be in a meeting, but still.

I will. I hesitate, then keep my fuck it state of mind and add: I love you, Edward.

Love you, too, baby.

XXX

I'm a nervous-wreck.

During my layover, I have a Bloody Mary. And on the flight to Chicago, I drink a mini bottle of champagne. I'm just so anxious to see Edward. To hold him, actually touch him. To kiss his face. To see his expression when he finally realizes I'm there. The more I think about it, the more my body and head buzz with anticipation. I don't think I'll feel settled until I'm in his arms.

When I land, I take a half-hour Uber to Millennium Park. I don't know exactly where he's staying, and I can't necessarily ask without ruining the surprise. But from what he said—that he was at some extended-stay type of hotel across from Millennium Park—I think I'll be able to figure it out.

I do some Google searches on the way there and have it narrowed down to at least two places. I finally land on which one it probably is, only after looking at the photos of the rooms. I'm pretty proud and mentally high-five myself for being a good little stalker. My celebratory mood doesn't last long because now that I know where he is, my nerves intensify.

It's just after seven when I'm dropped off. I cross the street, rolling my suitcase behind me, walking toward the vintage building. I'm on high alert, wondering if I might accidentally run into him. He's probably already in his room though—we've been talking around this time every night. In fact, he might call me soon, and realizing we'll get to do this in person makes my stomach clench in the very best way.

I have to wait a couple of minutes to talk to someone at the front desk, and the extra time kills me. I anxiously tap my foot as I glance around the lobby until the person in front of me is done being helped, and it's my turn.

"Checking in?" the clerk finally asks, not bothering to look up from his computer.

"Actually… well." I lean my head a little closer. "Can you tell me which room Edward Cullen is in?"

At this, he looks up, frowning even more than he already was. "I'm sorry. We can't give out that information."

I figured. I just hoped I might get someone who was a little bit of a rule-breaker.

"I get it," I laugh lightly, trying to appear cool as I glance at his name tag. "But you see, Ted, I'm his girlfriend, and I'm here to surprise him." I know it's futile, but maybe he's a rule-breaker for grand gestures. "I flew here from—"

He's not falling for it. "Again, we can't give out that information. If you'd like to book a room, I can help you. Otherwise I'm afraid—"

"Bella?"

Everything stops.

I spin around to find a messy-haired Edward with wide green eyes standing behind me. There's no screen, no thousands of miles between us. He's even more handsome in person than I remembered. His brows are knit together in confusion, but seconds pass and the crease on his forehead disappears the same moment a blinding smile morphs onto his face. My breath catches in my throat, and I'm throwing myself at him, wrapping my arms around him so tightly, barely giving him time to register what's happening.

"Bella." He says my name again and I melt at the sound. "I can't believe it," he breathes into my hair, dropping whatever was in his hands to hold me. "You're here."

"I'm here. Fuck, I'm so happy to see you," I mumble against the crook of his neck, hot tears burning my eyes.

"How did you—" He stops, loosening his grip but keeping his hands on me.

"I booked the flight this morning. I was just feeling idiotic, like… I want you to know I'm all in. I'll do anything for you, anything," I ramble, my thoughts jumbled and not coming out coherently. "I don't want it to be like before, where you're putting in the effort, and I'm just… I can't do that to us agai—"

He cuts me off, kissing me, and I close my eyes. His hand cups my cheek, brushing tears, and our lips stay pressed together for a moment before I kiss him back deeply. His mouth is familiar but strange. My cheeks are wet, and his lips are soft, and it's like the last kiss we had, in his bedroom, but it's so much better because this is not a goodbye. It's hello and I'm all in and I love you. It's good, so good and him, and I clutch at his chest, needing him closer because fuck if I'll ever let him go again.

We begrudgingly pull away when the angsty clerk clears his throat.

"Miss? Will you be needing a room?" he asks, looking between us disapprovingly.

"She won't be needing a room," Edward answers for me, reaching for the handle of my suitcase, tangling my fingers in his other hand.

My heart is pounding so hard when we're alone in the elevator, I'm certain he can hear it. He doesn't pull his gaze away from my face, and it's the best feeling, his adoring eyes on me. It doesn't lessen the hammering in my chest though. If anything it makes me more nervous.

We aren't in the elevator long before we reach the tenth floor. I follow him out, my hand still in his, until we're in the room. We remove our jackets, and then he immediately grabs my waist, pulling me against him and hugging tightly. We stay like that for a moment, just holding each other. Nerves flutter in my stomach but in the best way.

"I seriously can't believe you're here." We pull back just enough to see each other's faces. "How did you find me?"

"Google." We laugh, and I add as an afterthought, "Did you leave something downstairs?"

He looks confused, then says, "Shit. My food from Shake Shack."

"Go back and get it. I'll wait."

The shake of his head is subtle. "There's no way in hell I'm leaving you."

I laugh his name, telling him he can go. But he doesn't move, just keeps staring down at me. His eyes trail over my face and body, like he still can't believe it's really me.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, absently tucking some hair behind my ear, fingers gently grazing down my cheek and along my jaw.

"I've been flying all day. I'm just—"

"Don't. You're beautiful." I lean into his touch, and he sighs. "God, I fucking… love you. I love you."

I'm kissing him again, mumbling my own feelings of love against his mouth, nearly chanting it because he needs to know. The sweet kisses don't last long before it erupts into something more heated and passionate. His hands roam over my ass, gripping me to him, and my body tingles all over. I moan into his mouth before pulling back to kiss his neck, his Adam's apple. It's my favorite part of his neck—how it juts out in the manliest way. I tell him this, I don't know why, and he laughs. I can feel the vibration from his throat on my lips.

"Fuck. Okay. If we don't stop, I don't think I'll be able to hold back," he grits out. "And as much as I want that—"

"Don't stop. I want it, too." My body is on fire, and I won't be able to think or breathe until he tames this feeling.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this but… should we talk?"

I unbutton his jeans, sliding my hand down the front and into his briefs.

"It's been months," I murmur, watching his face go slack as I touch him. "Like, since before Thanksgiving. I think we can hold off on the talk."

"Shit," he says, but it comes out like a slow hiss. "Okay."

I stroke him a few times, but he's already so hard. So I yank down his jeans, and he steps out of them, his erection creating a tent in his briefs. His toned arms lift me up until my legs are hooked around his waist, my mouth sucking on his neck again as he walks us toward the bed.

"Your arms are bigger," I pant against his skin.

"I started boxing."

I groan. "Your chest too. Fuck."

Though I'm still attached to his body, he lays me down on the mattress, staying between my legs. He grinds against me for a moment, then frantically takes off all my clothes before ridding himself of his own, too. I can see his arms and chest and everything that was covered by cotton, and he looks so, so good.

He's there again, pressing into me but without barriers. Feeling the pressure right where I need it is so good, I feel like I'm gonna lose it. I tell him this, and he accepts it as a dare. When his mouth makes its way down my body, sucking and licking, it doesn't take long until I'm gripping his messy hair and lifting my hips off the mattress, coming against his mouth.

I catch my breath as he lies on top of me again, kissing my neck, my lips. Brushing some hair away from my face, he stares down at me in the most tender way. It takes me back to the first time we had sex.

"I've missed you," he whispers.

My fingers are feather-light on his back. "Me too."

"I've missed the sounds you make," he murmurs hotly. "I've missed putting my mouth on you. I forgot how much you love that."

"I've missed you doing it," I say breathlessly. "It's so much better than when I had to imagine it."

His eyes glaze over, darkening. "You touched yourself while thinking about me?"

"All the time."

He rolls off of me. "Show me."

My hand moves down my stomach, fingers sliding inside where it's still slick from his mouth. He moves a little so he can watch, face going slack as he does.

"Fuck, that's so hot." He licks his lips, groaning as he strokes himself.

I stop, bringing my fingers to his mouth, and he leans over to suck them. The sensation sends a tingle throughout my body.

"I want you right now," I moan, and he moves between my legs. "I need you."

"I don't think I'll last long…" he prompts, sounding apologetic.

"Don't care."

He grips his dick and guides himself into me. It takes a second, but after some tortuously slow thrusts, I push back with my hips, needing more friction. I pull his shoulder, until his chest meets mine. With his face buried in my neck, it's just like I imagined last night—hot breath on my skin and the full weight of his body as he fucks me. I nearly cry because I've missed this so much.

After a few minutes, he slows his pace.

"Get on top," he breathes out. "I wanna watch you."

He pulls out, and I climb on top of him, sliding back down in one swift move. We both cry out, then it's quiet in the room, only our shallow breath and moans filling the space.

Reaching up to cup my face, he slides his thumb into my mouth for me to suck on, and his eyes shut tightly. "You feel so fucking good, Bella."

Our bodies move lazily, loving the way it feels, like we have nothing but time.

"I love seeing you on me, fucking me," he grits out, thumb ghosting over my clit. All I can manage is a soft, throaty moan because I'm close again. "I love that you're mine." Gripping my hips, he pumps faster before sitting up and attaching his lips to mine. "Stay with me, Bell."

"Okay," I pant. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever again. I love you."

His fingers dig into my skin, and I hope he leaves a mark. Bruise me. Brand me. Make me yours, I want to beg. I wrap my arms around his neck, keeping him close and whispering the words into his ear, telling him just how much of his I am.

He nods dumbly, eyes closed and mouth open as we pound against one another.

"I love you," he breathes out, biting my shoulder.

We fall silent as our pace quickens. And soon enough, we come together, not bothering to stifle our moans as we completely lose ourselves in one another.

XXX

We order food from Postmates while we recover then shower together. He washes my hair, and I scrub his back. His hands don't leave me for long, if at all, and it sends a thrill throughout me.

We get out of the shower, and I linger on the bathmat, shivering as he grabs me a towel and wraps it around my shoulders. He runs his hands up and down my arms, trying to warm me, and I lift my chin to kiss him. We move to the sink to brush our teeth, both still wrapped in terrycloth, foamy-smiling at each other in the mirror.

I've missed these moments with him, just being together. It's like being apart from each other let me recognize that he takes care of me in a way no one ever has before. In a way I've never let anyone before. Like when he slides his shirt over my head, pulling my wet hair out from under the collar. Or when he tucks my cold feet under his thighs while we watch Netflix. It's all the little things that I've missed. It's all the little things that add up to one giant fucking thing: I love him. I always will.

XXX

I'm curled against his side, my head resting on his chest. It's just after three in the morning. We've fallen asleep a couple different times, tangled up in each other. Every time I wake up, my heart swells with the realization that I'm here, with him. It's like the best dream I never have to wake up from.

My fingers trail a pattern along his chest, and I smile when he shivers under my touch. We just had sex for the third time tonight, and I don't know how many more times it'll take until we're sated.

Other than not keeping our hands off of each other, we've kept the conversation pretty light all night. I can tell he's waiting for me to take the floor. For whatever reason, now feels like a good time.

Still lying against him in the dark, safe in his arms, I tell him about therapy, the parts I feel comfortable with, anyway. How Emily has been helping me retrain my way of thinking to be more compassionate toward myself. She helps me realize that not everyone is the enemy. There's no hidden agenda, not everyone is out to eventually hurt me. Edward lies quietly, taking in what I'm saying, kissing my temple every now and then.

I tell him about Renee… how she showed up just days after he left. I can feel him tense a little, like he's not thrilled to hear this. He stays quiet, though. I tell him parts of what I said to her, sneaking a glance at his face. He looks surprised but proud, the small smile on his mouth the best encouragement. I go on about how she's still in Forks, as far as I know, and how I wrote her a letter in therapy. I don't tell him any of that, other than it helped me get a lot of shit off my chest that I didn't realize I'd been holding in. I muse that it's funny how much more room there is in your heart after you let shit go that's not serving you. His grip on me tightens a little more after that.

When I'm done, Edward still stays quiet, really taking it all in. It's kind of nice, this silence, giving ourselves a moment to just be.

"You think you'll give the letter to Renee?" he finally asks.

I've thought long and hard about this over the last week. "No."

"So you're not trying to have a relationship with her anymore?"

"I never really had one with her," I say honestly, shifting a little so I can see his face. "But, yeah. I don't think I'd get anything out of trying to reconnect with her. I'm not as sad about that as I used to be."

"Okay." He tilts my chin up a bit, kissing me. "I'm happy for you. And I'm proud of you. And just… yeah."

"Thank you," I whisper, tangling my legs with his. "Thank you for being patient."

"I told you—you're it for me."

"God, it's so sexy to hear you say that."

"So…" He prompts, smirking. "You know, when you were at the front desk I heard you tell the clerk that we're together."

I mirror his smirk, not even embarrassed. "And?"

"How long have you been going around telling people I'm your boyfriend?" he teases, repeating my words from that day on the plane when I heard him telling some woman I was his girlfriend.

I laugh, shaking my head. "Not nearly long enough, that's for damn sure."

He likes this answer. "You wanna try this again, huh?"

"More than anything," I murmur, fingers grazing over his jaw.

"Me too," he agrees. "I think we need to talk about what we both need out of it this time, though. I don't want anything to come between us ever again."

I nod, stomach clenching, hoping this doesn't spark an argument, but fully knowing if it does we'll get through it. "Well… I need you to not lie. I know you wouldn't do anything like that again, and I know I could have handled things differently but… I just have to say it. So it's out there."

"Okay. I understand," he says earnestly. "I need you to trust me."

"I will. I do. I need you to trust me, too," I counter.

"I trust you, Bell," he whispers, holding my gaze. "I need you to forgive me if I do fuck up. I'm not perfect. We're not perfect. But… I can't have you running away at the first sign of a problem. I need you to stick with me."

"I can do that," I say honestly. "I need you to not assume I'm gonna run every time something gets hard, though. Give me the benefit of the doubt, okay?"

His expression softens. "Okay."

We go back and forth, saying what we want; what we need. Neither of us argue, each of us agreeing to everything the other says. We're not asking for anything out of the realm of possibility, just mutual love and respect. It's all we need.

"Anything else?" he eventually asks, when the conversation starts to wind down.

I pretend to think, keeping the sly smile on my face. "One last thing."

"Yeah?"

"I need you to ask me again."

He searches my face. "Ask you what?"

"To move in with you."

His entire face brightens. "You want that?"

"I want you. And long-distance isn't gonna work for me. I don't want an expiration date with you, or to only spend a few days together every couple of months."

He looks genuinely surprised by what I'm saying, like he didn't expect me to get back to this place so soon. Maybe I didn't expect it, either. But more than ever, I'm ready. There's no sense in prolonging the separation when we both know what we want. I've already missed out on time with him. I'm not gonna let that happen again.

"What about your job?" he asks, always sensible.

"Fuck it. I'll quit. I might be unemployed for a little bit, but if you're okay with that…?"

"So, I'd be your sugar daddy?"

"Shut up," I laugh. "Not forever. Just until I get a job. It's not like I don't have some savings, but I probably wouldn't be able to split rent with you right away, and—"

"You don't have to explain yourself. I'm okay with it, Bell. I kind of like the idea of taking care of you." My heart swells. "You really wanna quit your job though? I thought you liked it?"

"I don't like it more than I love you. I don't think us starting over is gonna bode well with me still working for Ben, even in Santa Barbara. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, no matter how attractive you are when you get possessive," I tease.

"I only get possessive because you're mine," he drawls, smirking.

"I know," I say, moving to straddle him. His shirt hangs off me, and he slides his hands up under the cotton, warm hands on my lower back. "I'm all yours."

"I'll never get tired of hearing you say that," he murmurs, growing serious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"What do you see when you think about our future?"

I really think about it, then tell him, "I see everything."

"Like what?"

"Like… sharing the same bed for the rest of our lives. My shit constantly cluttering the bathroom counter top. Late Saturday nights and lazy Sundays in bed."

"I like the sound of this," he murmurs, gaze tender.

"And I'll be in therapy because I'm still working on myself. Maybe someday, we'd be in couple's therapy." He's quiet, letting me finish. "Not because we'd struggle, only because we'll do anything to stay strong. But maybe we would struggle," I add as an afterthought.

"But we'd get through it," he says for me.

I smile, searching his face. "I know it's not going to be easy, but I want it all with you," I whisper. "The good, the bad, and everything in between."

At this, he kisses me deeply. But I'm not done yet, so I say against his lips: "I see us moving outside of LA eventually, or maybe back to Seattle to be close to your parents again. I want babies with you. Maybe two—"

"Three," he butts in.

"Don't be greedy," I laugh. "But I'll think about it."

We fall silent, enjoying the moment, just staring at one another.

"Ask me again," I breathe out. But this time I add please.

"What am I supposed to ask?" he teases, and I playfully slap his chest. He laughs, grabbing my wrist, pulling me down to capture my mouth. With my lips against his, he murmurs, "Nothing makes me happier than being with you. Move in with me, Bella."

"Okay." I smile, closing my eyes, picturing our future again. I can see it all so easily. When I finally open them, I stare into his eyes, full of affection and anticipation for what's to come. I want to imagine our lives from his perspective, so with a tender kiss to his lips I whisper, "Now tell me what you see."