I'm so glad y'all loved hearing from Edward. Thank you for reading—y'all are making this story so fun to write.

Many thanks and hugs to Hadley for her amazing help!

Next update will be Monday. OH. But I have a pretty wonderful teaser photo that Lizzie Paige made for the next chapter. If you wanna check it out, it'll be on Facebook Saturday. Link to my profile is in my bio!

Also make sure you're caught up on Body of Christ! Father Edward needs your support now more than ever.

P.S. Shoutout goes to May for swift kicks to the dick... ;)

The room is significantly lighter when I wake again. When I realize Edward's still in bed with me, sound asleep, I smile to myself.

I stare at him for a second. He's lying on his side, facing me. His lips are slightly pouted and he's breathing deeply. The urge to touch him courses throughout me. It's so tempting to lift his arm and slide closer. To bury my face in his neck, breathe him in.

I leave him be and decide to shower, letting the warm water wake me up. When I'm dressed again and towel-drying my hair, I walk out of the bathroom to an empty bed. Part of me assumes Edward might've left without saying bye. But then I find him sitting on the couch.

He regards me briefly and makes a point to stand when I walk into the room. It's weird, kind of formal. Kind of sweet.

"Hey," he says softly.

There's uncertainty in his eyes, but I don't know why. Our conversation last night ended on a good note. Albeit a bittersweet note. But still. We were able to talk unguarded. I hope he isn't regretting that now. I definitely don't.

When I sit, he sits. It's like he's nervous, mirroring my every move. I pull my knees up to my chest, and slide the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands.

"Your hair is a wreck," I tell him, smiling gently.

He grabs a fistful, breathing out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. It's… yeah."

"You sleep okay?" I ask, trying to break the lingering tension.

"Yeah. Did you?"

"Yeah."

He hesitates. "I should've slept on the couch, sorry. I just dozed and then—"

"What?" I frown. "No. It's fine."

His brows raise ever so slightly. "Okay."

"Okay," I echo. Things still feel a little awkward, but it's definitely on his part. Not mine. "Can I make you breakfast or something? As a thank-you for taking care of me?"

He pulls on the back of his neck. "It's okay."

I don't want him to go yet. "I don't mind," I try again.

"Really, it's all good."

I drop my head against my knees and groan. "Please don't be like this. I had fun last night."

He's quiet until I look back up at him. His coolness melts, and his eyes spark with amusement. "Most people don't find it fun to be sick."

"Well most people don't have you taking care of them," I say easily, not caring how ridiculous it sounds.

His smile is small and shy. "So… what now?" he asks casually.

"We can just hang out," I offer after a moment.

"Hang out," he echoes.

"Friends hang out."

"Are we friends?"

"We're not not friends," I say, frowning. Then again, friends don't typically hate each other.

"You're right," he says, watching my face intently.

Oh. So I said that out loud.

I open my mouth to tell him that I don't hate him, but he speaks first.

"I don't hate you, Bella." The sincerity in his voice tugs at my heart. "Not at all."

"It used to feel like you did," I admit with our gazes locked.

"And now what does it feel like?"

"It feels... like..."

It feels like you want me. Like you care. It nearly feels like… like whatever that feeling is that exists before you fall for someone. The almost-love. The eagerness and the longing. And for the briefest of moments last night, I kind of hoped this could be something more.

Shit.

I cannot fucking say that out loud.

"It feels like… I mean, do you have a thing for me?" I ask before I can talk myself out of it. "Is there something between us?"

He opens his mouth then closes it, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. The delay kills me.

"I don't not have a thing for you," he says carefully, gauging my reaction.

I breathe out a frustrated laugh.

"So we're not not friends, and you don't not have a thing for me," I recap. "Sounds very complicated."

"Sounds very us," he offers, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smirk.

It's stupid and simple, but he referred to us as an us. And my stomach does that funny thing it's only recently started doing where it disappears for a moment.

"Yeah," I agree, heart racing. "It does sound very us."

I get to say it this time, and I love the way it sounds rolling off of my tongue. From the look on Edward's face, he likes it, too.

Just when we're getting somewhere, there's a knock on my door.

"Um. One sec," I tell him, and leave the couch. I rarely have people over anyway, but definitely not at ten in the morning. And definitely not unannounced.

When I look through the peephole, I'm both surprised and glad to see Esme.

"Hey," I greet her.

"I was so worried! I texted you last night to see if you were feeling better and never heard back."

"Oh, shit. Sorry." I try to mouth to her that Edward is here.

"What?" she asks aloud, frowning. "What are you trying to say?"

"Come in," I tell her with a pointed stare as I open the door wider.

And then she sees Edward.

"Oh! You have company." She steps inside, carrying a tupperware of soup.

"This is Esme, my boss," I tell Edward.

"I hate it when you introduce me like that," she says, laughing a little. "I'm your friend first. Always."

"Right." I shake my head. "This is Edward. He was helping me last night. After I got sick."

"Edward." Esme shakes his hand, smiling wider now that she knows who he is. She all but swoons. "It's so nice of you to take care of her."

"It was nothing," he says simply.

He's wrong. It was everything.

Esme glances between us, hearts for eyes, and unfortunately Edward takes it as his cue to go.

"I was just gonna leave," he tells us, reaching for his boots and sitting on the couch to put them on.

"You were?" I ask, hating his sudden departure.

"Yeah. I have some stuff to do before work."

He focuses on lacing up his boots, then stands. "Nice to meet you," he tells Esme then looks at me, gaze softening the tiniest bit. "Feel better, Bella."

"Wait." I follow after him. "I'll walk you out."

We slowly make our way toward the front door. I'm standing so close to him, but we aren't touching. I glance over at Esme who seems to be busying herself by putting the soup into the fridge. She's doing a terrible job of pretending she's not eavesdropping.

"So, I'll see you Wednesday, right?" Edward asks.

"I won't not see you," I tease, and he laughs, making my chest expand from the sound. "So... are we friends now?"

"Sure." His eyes light up. "Friends."

"Can friends maybe hang out before Wednesday?" I ask hopefully.

"Friends could definitely do that," he agrees, staring down at me. I'm pretty sure he's not looking at me like a friend though, and it makes my heart go wild. "Like, maybe tomorrow night? If you're feeling better."

"Tomorrow night works. I'll make you dinner."

He smirks. "Okay. I'd like that."

He lingers for a moment and I'm about to thank him for taking care of me when the urge to touch him courses throughout me for a second time. So I hug him. I close the small distance between us and wrap my arms around his body, resting my head on his chest. It takes a second but then he wraps his arms around me, relaxing into my touch and hugging me back.

"Thanks again," I whisper with my cheek pressed against his shirt.

He brings a hand up to the back of my head, and we just… hold each other for a moment. It's tender. Sweet. And then Esme knocks something over in the kitchen and we slowly let go.

"Sorry!" she says, smiling awkwardly.

Edward breathes out a laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says, looking down at me.

"Okay. Bye."

He leaves and I close the door behind him. Esme's standing in the kitchen with crossed arms and an amused smirk on her face.

"What?"

"Wow," Esme says, grinning so wide. "Care to tell me what that was all about?"

I sit with her on the couch and tell her everything. About how he showed up and took care of me, even holding my hair while I puked. How he laid in my bed and didn't freak out when I basically used him as a pillow. How we opened up to each other and shared things in the darkness of my room.

"I thought he was infuriating?" she asks.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "He is."

"And difficult?"

"That too," I say with less conviction.

"Oh, Bella."

I groan, covering my reddening cheeks. "Fuck me."

"No, thank you," she quips. "But he might."

I laugh at her, shaking my head. "I think I'm in trouble."

Her smile is sympathetic. "Why?"

"Because I think I like the guy I used to hate."

She has "I told you so" written all over her face, but she's kind enough not to gloat. "Worse things have happened, kid."

I hope she's right.

xx

I take it easy for the rest of the day, even napping for a couple of hours on the couch. I call Renee back and pretend to give her shit for offering up my address to Edward. But I'm not actually mad about it. It's honestly kind of funny to me. And a very Renee thing to do. In the end her reasoning was that she knows all of the instructors have to undergo background checks, so she figured he was harmless.

She was technically right. But I jokingly remind her my life isn't worth gambling. Liam's, on the other hand, is.

After we hang up, I reheat the soup Esme brought me and start watching Love is Blind, since my mom won't shut up about it. I'm on the third episode when my phone lights up with a message from Masen.

Masenry: Hi, stranger. Long time, no talk.

Swannie: It's been like a day, you weirdo.

Masenry: Actually it's been two.

He's right. I think I lost a day due to being sick.

Swannie: Yeahhhh. Sorry I was busy being deathly ill.

And being taken care of by the most frustratingly sweet man… who I kind of have a date with tomorrow night.

Masenry: That sucks. Are you feeling better now?

Swannie: A little tired, but otherwise fine. I stayed home today and thankfully already have tomorrow off.

Masenry: I can let you go if you're tired.

Swannie: No way. I wanna talk.

Masenry: Good. Me too.

Swannie: What have you been doing? And don't say "not too much" or something similarly vague.

Masenry: I was helping a friend take care of some stuff.

Swannie: Oooh? Like what?

Masenry: Just some personal things.

Swannie: Interesting. Was this a female friend?

Masenry: Actually, yes.

My mind immediately goes to Rosethorn.

And then I think of my own situation with Edward.

Swannie: Hmm. If a male friend was helping me out, I'd instantly think he was into me.

Masenry: You'd probably be right.

Swannie: So you think this female friend of yours is attractive?

Masenry: Don't make me answer that. Please.

Swannie: So that's a yes hahahaha.

Ugh. One too many ha's to sound casual.

Swannie: Do you like her?

Masenry: You're the absolute worst.

Swannie: Come on. I wanna know. You can tell me.

Part of me almost wants him to admit to liking someone else so I won't feel so torn about having feelings for Edward.

Masenry: Fine. I like her.

Swannie: Yeah?

Masenry: I like her more than I know how to comprehend.

Yeah. Definitely Rosethorn.

Swannie: Wooooof. Well, shit.

Masenry: Yeah.

Swannie: What's stopping you?

Masenry: What makes you think I'm being "stopped"

Swannie: Well for starters, you're talking to me. And I don't get the vibe that you're a sleazy guy. So that makes me assume nothing has happened with this friend you like.

Masenry: Fair enough. You're right. And what's stopping me is that it's complicated.

Swannie: That sucks. If it makes you feel any better, there is kinda someone I've been developing feelings for as well. That, too, is complicated.

Masenry: Oh yeah?

Swannie: Yeah. But sometimes this thing with you feels… less complicated.

Masenry: I know what you mean.

Swannie: I guess I just don't want you to feel bad (if you even do feel bad?) for liking someone when I also have feelings for someone else.

Masenry: Who's the lucky dude?

Swannie: What makes you assume it's a dude?

Masenry: …

Swannie: lolll. And yes, I'm fucking laughing out loud. I can only imagine your face right now.

Masenry: Jerk.

Swannie: Yeah, yeah. Anyway. I dunno if I'd call him lucky. But we met like, a little over two months ago? He's the coding instructor for my brother. Again, it's reaaaal complicated.

Masenry: He's lucky. Trust me. So why is it complicated?

Swannie: Is it weird to talk to you about this?

Masenry: Nah. I asked.

Swannie: Fine. When I first met him I totally thought he didn't like me. And he got under my skin like… super bad. Major dick vibes.

Masenry: Maybe he just liked getting a reaction? Or he could be shy and wasn't sure how to approach you. Just a thought. But I don't know. Obviously.

Swannie: Maybe. I guess I just… I don't know what's going on between us.

Masenry: Between you and me? Or you and him?

Shit.

Swannie: Both.

Masenry: I don't really know what's happening here, either.

Swannie: When are you gonna man up and tell me who you are?

Masenry: Ouch. I mean, I get it. But ouch.

Swannie: No. "Ouch" is a swift kick to the dick. "Ouch" is not me calling you out, lol

Masenry: Swift, you say?

Swannie: I'm very agile.

Masenry: What are you, like, five feet?

Swannie: Five foot three, thank you very much. Being short helps with my agility. Are you tall?

Masenry: Yeah.

Swannie: I like tall guys.

Masenry: I like…

Masenry: You.

Swannie: Well, you won't much longer. I'm about to cut off all contact if you don't meet up with me.

Masenry: You wouldn't dare.

Swannie: Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't.

Masenry: You'd ghost me?

Swannie: Yeah. It'll be like I never existed.

Masenry: I don't like the sound of that. At all.

Swannie: Then meet up with me, fucker.

Masenry: Give me some time. Okay?

Swannie: Ugh. No. No more time.

Masenry: I'm serious. Just… trust me.

Swannie: Fine. But you're still a fucker.

Masenry: And you're feisty. I like it.

Swannie: Well I like…

Swannie: You. xx