Hi everyone! Anyone else going a little crazy during this quarantine? I didn't think it was possible, but I've read so many books that I've grown a bit tired of reading. It hurts to admit that. I need another hobby haha

Anywayyy - enjoy!


DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. Lyrics included in this chapter belong to the gorgeous Mr. Harry Styles.

Beta: Fran

2018

I'm in a cocoon of warmth, and I don't ever want to leave. And, given the sureness of Edward's arms around me, he certainly shares that sentiment.

Our embrace has progressed from me kneeling at his feet with my face pressed to his throat, to the full-on chest-to-chest, cheek-to-cheek, ass-in-lap snuggle we're currently tangled up in. It's all things warm and intimate, yet nothing about it is sexual. Which, I think, is exactly what we need right now.

I've never felt so close to him. I think my heart could burst.

Edward's hand lifts, stroking gently down the length of my hair as he turns his face to plant the tenderest, feathery kiss on my temple. "It's been a long day." He comments, leaning back to get a better handle on my expression. My body cries out at the loss of our connection. I have an overwhelming urge to lean forward and press myself against him, but I refrain in favor of lifting my eyes to his. My stomach jolts as his pale green irises meet mine; the emotions swimming in their depths are staggering.

"It has," I answer him, fingers clenching tighter around the soft fabric of his shirt.

"You look tired," he observes quietly. Concern wrinkles his forehead, and I can't help but lift my hand to press the lines out with my thumb. His lips quirk up in a faint smile in response.

"You do, too." I drop my hand to his cheek, thumb now tracing reverently over the beginnings of dark circles forming under his eyes.

"Don't worry about me," he huffs softly, leaning his face into my touch. "You, on the other hand, need some sleep." He turns his face swiftly, dropping a kiss into my palm. "Come on," he murmurs, tightening his hold on me as he stands. I let out a startled noise and wriggle to lock my ankles over his lower back.

"Edward," I complain breathlessly.

"I've got you," he chuckles, dropping a hand to my ass as support. I narrow my eyes at him minutely in response to his action, and he just shrugs a shoulder.

"Pervert," I mumble, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I'm not above it, clearly." He comments, navigating from the living room to my bedroom.

"And here I was thinking we were having some good, clean fun." I drone sardonically while, nevertheless, enjoying the sensation of his hips between my legs and his palm under my ass.

Seems I'm not above it either.

"We are," he intones, climbing onto the bed with me still stuck to him. "Move your legs," he advises before laying back onto the mattress. I heed his warning and scramble away, curling into the space beside him and letting out a content sigh. "Nothing nefarious going on here," he observes quietly. "Just some cuddling and sleeping."

"Mmm," I hum in assent. "I can hang with that."

"Good to know," his chest rumbles under my ear as I settle my head on his sternum. "Now, go to sleep. You look fucking beat."

"Ow," I mutter, feigning insult. "Are you saying I look like shit?"

"Shut up," Edward jostles me, teasingly. "You know that's not what I meant."

I do.

A smile curves my lips in answer.

We fall into silence, the sounds of our synched breaths filling the room. I try to let the cadence of his rising and falling chest lull me to sleep, but an errant thought pokes at me. And, the moment I acknowledge it, more tumble forward and crowd my brain, making me absolutely restless.

"Hey Edward," I whisper into the comfortable darkness. I don't want to burst this bubble that surrounds us, but I can't sleep like this. I need to unpack the thoughts swimming in my head. And, he's the only one who can help me do that.

"Hmm?" He hums in reply. He sounds so cozy; I can't help but bury myself further in his embrace. "Mmm, you're warm," he mumbles, anchoring me to him with a sinewy arm around my back and a hot hand clamped over my hip. "What's up? I thought you were sleeping."

"I was trying," I chew my lip, struggling to string words together to communicate what's plaguing me. "I just ... still have some questions."

There's a pause where Edward seems to consider what I've said. His fingers drum lightly against my hip before he lets out a deep breath. "All right, hit me with them."

Okay, here goes nothing.

"You, um, you mentioned that bad luck with relationships was your motivation behind keeping things casual ... do you mind, uh, explaining that?" I don't mean to sound so tentative, but I am a little anxious about his reaction to that question. I mean, he did just spill his guts about Irina. I don't know how willing he is to let all of it hang out there, especially on the same night. Given how closed off he's been with me prior to tonight, I feel like it's a legitimate concern. This might push him beyond his limits, but it's a risk I need to take for the sake of my peace of mind.

I felt like an idiot earlier today when I realized I knew virtually nothing about him. Call me greedy, but now that I've had a little taste of what he's made of, I'm fucking ravenous for the whole damn thing.

"You want me to explain my dating history?" Edward rephrases, seeking clarification as his chest steadily expands and retracts under my cheek.

"Yeah."

Edward breathes deeply, my head lifting with it, and lets the air out slowly, his arms tugging me further into him. "I honestly don't know where to start," he admits lowly.

"Who was your first girlfriend?"

"Kate," he murmurs, lips ghosting over my forehead. "She was my high school girlfriend. We started dating sophomore year, a year before the band was discovered."

"What happened?" I trace my fingers over his arm, trying to touch every single downy hair that adorns it.

"The band traveled a lot senior year," he clears his throat, fingers drawing up and down my back. My skin prickles, goosebumps sprouting in the wake of his digits. "We started drifting apart. She ... cheated on me. One of my buddies saw her hooking up with another guy at a party."

"I'm sorry," my lips brush his throat, and I feel a shiver wrack through him in response. It warms me that I affect him just as much as he does me. I can't help but smile a little at that. "I don't understand how someone can cheat on a guy like you."

"It was just a high school relationship," he shrugs. "I never thought it would last. But it did teach me a valuable lesson - there's no place for relationships while on the road."

"Maybe," I frown. "Or maybe you were with the wrong girl."

"Could be that, too." He nods solemnly. "But, I strictly avoided serious attachments after that. Until Irina, that is, and you know how well that went already."

"How about after you guys divorced?" My palm slides over his ribs soothingly. "You weren't touring. Did you date anyone then?"

His hand pauses its stroke on my back, idling over the band of my bra. "There was one other. A year after the divorce. Tanya." The disdain with which he speaks her name makes me raise up off him to take in his face. He's scowling, lips turned down as if he just tasted something foul.

Oh, boy.

"It was just after I scrapped my solo album," Edward murmurs. "I guess you could say I was feeling lost. So lost that I found myself in her bed." I grimace, and he notices, chuckling lightly in response. "She was a distraction, a way for me to forget I was throwing away everything I worked so hard to achieve. She liked to go out, liked to hang out with her friends. She was fun, so much so that I didn't realize the fact that we were photographed everywhere we went. And, when it wasn't the paparazzi, it was her or her friends taking pictures of us to post to her social media. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this."

His words make my stomach turn, and I swallow against the uncomfortable feeling. "She used you."

He inclines his head in a somber nod. "She did."

"Edward," I murmur sympathetically, palming his cheek. He just shrugs and tilts his head to press a soft kiss against the inside of my wrist. As a result, a jolt of electricity slices through my belly.

"After I broke things off, I made a conscious decision to forgo all future relationships. There is," he pauses, eyes softening, "was room for only one girl in my life - Rose. Well ... until you came along."

"Until I came along," I repeat, feeling warm all over. "Messing up your plans. God, I'm so annoying!"

"You are," he chuckles, "but in a cute way." He pauses, assessing my features slowly before continuing. "What about you? Anyone make it past the second date?" He smirks, recalling information I gave him a while back with chilling accuracy. My cheeks heat in response. My past relationships are really fucking pathetic.

"I had one boyfriend in college. Tyler." Edward raises his brows like, "go on." I screw my lips to the side and shrug. "There's really not much to tell. He was a frat boy, but the smart variety. He was in my Theories of Human Development class. We did a project together and then dated for about six months after the class ended. I gave my virginity to him. A week later, he promptly dumped me. Should have known better, but that's what I get for dating a frat boy."

"What a douche," Edward frowns, curling his fingers around my wrist and using it to tug me against him. "Garrett was in a frat."

"Did he fuck-and-duck virgins, too?" I chuckle bitterly, making myself comfortable against his side.

"He has been known to, although, I don't think any of them were virgins," he confirms, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "Damn, what a terrible person to lose it to."

"Mmm," I hum in agreement. "And the guys that came after him haven't really been better. I guess we're both unlucky like that."

"Hmm, we're a pair," he mumbles, clearly lost in his thoughts. Then, after a moment, he sighs. "I'm sorry for making things hard on you." I open my lips to interrupt him, but he places his hand over my mouth to stop me. "Let me finish," he scolds. "I just ... you have no idea how many people have tried to exploit me; how many have made money off my misguided trust. I'm not worth much now, but when I saw you were a fan, I had to protect my daughter and protect Irina as the mother of my child. I know that giving out the personal information of a student in your care isn't exactly legal, but the law hasn't stopped people in the past. I couldn't risk it."

"I understand why you did what you did, Edward," I murmur, hugging myself closer to him. "I don't blame you for being careful with doling out your trust."

"I just hope you don't hold it against me," Edward sighs, tracing a finger down my spine. The movement sends a slight tremor up my body as heat licks through me.

"I won't, and I don't." I shiver, nestling against his chest.

We're both silent as we breathe, mulling over the new information shared between us. I feel like the curtain has been pulled back even more, and now I have a better grasp on the origins of his reservations, relationship-wise.

Yet, there is still something that remains unaddressed that plagues my mind.

"Edward?" I prompt, in which he answers with a grunt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Haven't you already?" He mumbles, twisting in my arms to face me. This shift in position smooshes my face into his neck and tangles our legs together. I revel in the intimacy for a moment before piping up again.

"Yeah, but this is about something else." He hums in response, prompting me to continue. "Why did the band break up?"

"It's not obvious?" He asks, chuckling humorlessly.

"I think I have an idea," I say cautiously. "I just ... was it James?"

"Yes," his throat bobs against my lips as he swallows. "We had a studio session a week after Irina told me about their binge. I guess she ... let him know she told me, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to rub it in my face."

"What a fucking asshole," I growl, referring to both James and Irina as I grip Edward tighter. "James was your friend. How could he do that to you?"

"James only cares about himself," Edward sighs. "I don't think he considers anyone his friend. Anyway, we ... fought. Physically. I, uh, I knocked him out cold." At my startled gasp, he chuckles and smooths his hands down my back. "It wasn't much of a feat. He was really fucked up. Needless to say, we couldn't carry on together after that. Jasper and Emmett were shocked, but they understood. We all just ... moved on after that. Emmett moved to Hollywood. He's an actor now, I'm sure you know. Jasper went back to college, got a degree in music management, and then his JD. James ... I don't know if you remember, but he tried to go solo."

"I remember," I murmur, wincing as I recall the terrible excuse for music he tried to release. "He was horrible."

"Mmm, yeah. He was." He frowns, thinking deeply. "He disappeared after that. Last I heard he was holed up in some shithole in Vegas ... doing as he does."

"Bummer," I mumble dryly. "And what happened to the great Edward Masen?"

"Great," he snorts sarcastically. "Sure. He got a girl pregnant - or so he thought - and decided to settle down to give his daughter some semblance of stability. He tried his hand at singing on his own, but he caved under the pressure of the music industry. He's very particular," he frowns, "he likes to do things his own way, at his own pace, and with as little interference as possible."

"Sounds like this guy I'm dating," I feign confusion, stroking my chin pensively. "Maybe they're related?"

"Maybe," he chuckles, wiggling his fingers against my ribs playfully.

"No!" I squeal, rolling away and pressing my foot against his chest to hold him back. "You can stay over there if you're going to tickle me."

"Baby, come on," Edward pouts.

"No," I repeat, pressing my toes against his sternum. "Anyway, I'm not done yet."

"Oh, then, by all means, continue." He halts his pursuit of me in favor of sitting against the headboard, my extended foot in his hands.

"Watch those fingers," I warn him sternly. He rolls his eyes in indignation before gesturing for me to go on. "Okay, so, I understand why you stopped singing. But what's stopping you from doing it now? I heard you in the car, Edward. You're really fucking good."

He purses his lips in thought, eyes narrowing minutely. "I think it's fear."

"Why?" I probe. "What do you have to be afraid of? You've done this already. People loved you guys. You had so many fans."

"I..." he starts, stopping to sigh and tear his fingers through his hair. Uh oh. "I know, but it's different. We were young, fresh, riding the wave of boy bands when we were discovered. It was all a show back then. I changed myself in order to fit the mold of what was popular and marketable at the time. It made me rich, but incredibly unhappy. I can't do that again. I won't."

"Edward, I'm no expert, but I don't think that you will have to." He shakes his head in disagreement, but I keep going regardless. "Have you listened to the radio lately? There's so much diversity in what's being played." I pause, gauging his reaction. He doesn't do much, just screw his lips to the side stubbornly. "You should think about it, Edward. You're really good. Talk to Jasper - he can help you figure things out."

I leave it there, taking in his impassive face and crossed arms. Clearly, he's not sold on the idea. My eyes drift toward the ceiling as I contemplate the lines he draws around himself. I got him to erase a bunch of them tonight and that's a fucking accomplishment. However, as passionate as I feel about this topic, I don't think it's worth going any further with it tonight. I don't want to push him so hard he closes himself off from me again.

Edward, clearing his throat, draws my attention back to him. He's staring at me thoughtfully, hands clasped in his lap with his knees drawn up. "I, uh, I wrote a couple lines down the other day." His confession draws my brows up in question. "It's not much, but ... do you want to hear it?"

"Yes," I breathe immediately. Yes, I think I'll die if you don't sing them for me, now.

His lip disappears between his teeth as he nods, and then he releases it with a quick breath. "Mind you, it's not really put together, yet. I'm still trying to wrestle the words into a song."

I can only nod.

"Okay," he breathes and then closes his eyes as his lips part around the most tormented, yet liltingly sweet voice.

"Sweet creature."

He draws the words out as if they're painful to sing.

"Had another talk about where it's going wrong."

His eyes open now, staring straight into mine. My body hums in response, heat blooming all over.

"But we're still young. We don't know where we're going, but we know where we belong."

He smiles now, fingers trailing over my foot, which lays motionless in his lap.

"And, oh, we started - two hearts in one home. It's hard when we argue. We're both stubborn, I know."

His eyes twinkle as he pauses, breathing the next lines out in a rough, tortured voice.

"But, oh, sweet creature, sweet creature. Wherever I go - you bring me home..."

He trails off and starts up again. Louder and more fervent this time.

"Sweet creature, sweet creature. When I run out of road ... you bring me home."

My heart is pounding in my throat by the time he finishes sharing the start of his song with me. His chest is heaving under his shirt as he slumps against the headboard and squeezes my foot questioningly.

"Well?" He rasps between pants. "What did you think?"

"Edward..." I manage to breathe out, my voice lost in awe, face flush with emotion. "That was ... holy shit ... I don't even have the words."

"Good, then?" He smiles bashfully.

"So, so good. You are ... holy shit." Before I realize it, I'm scrambling across the bed, operating on sheer instinct. "You wrote that the other day?"

"Mhmm," he hums, hands gripping my waist, guiding me onto his lap.

"Is it ... about me?"

His lids lower as he wets his lips. I watch the drag of his tongue, the bob of his throat as he swallows. "Yes," he admits huskily.

I don't respond.

I don't think.

I just fuse my mouth to his, lock my fingers in his hair, and crush our pelvises together. His mouth opens in a groan, and I invade it with my tongue. He's warm and wet and soft, but hard in other places that shift against me restlessly.

"I thought we were having good, clean fun?" Edward murmurs breathlessly, hurriedly divesting me of my shirt - an action that harshly contrasts with the backpedal his words imply.

"Yeah, no. Fuck that," I quip before he wipes the cocky smirk right off my face. My lips part in a surprised squeal as he flips me onto my back and looms over me, his weight pressing the air out of my lungs and my body into the bed.

Edward's wrong.

I'm not the sweet creature.

He is.


Well, we got some history. We got some snuggles. We got some singing. What do you guys think?

Can't wait to hear from you!

xo

j