Thanks for all the love.

See ya Monday.

Hadley's a gem!

Edward's face stays exceptionally neutral after I ask if he's seen You've Got Mail. Apparently, he hasn't, but knows the premise. His gaze stays trained on the laptop screen as he scrolls through Netflix, and I smirk.

We settle on watching reruns of Parks and Rec instead.

It feels comfortable with him. Lying in his bed and laughing at the show and being otherwise normal people. Not bickering or evading. Not pushing and pulling.

Just being us.

There's still the elephant in the room of him not coming clean. And then the other elephant: me not forcing him to come clean. But that's not my style, and I don't want to do that to him. I'll keep dropping hints here and there and tease him. For a tiny bit longer, anyway. And since I literally figured out he's Masen merely hours ago, I still need some time to hash out things with Esme or Jess on how I wanna approach this, in the off chance that he doesn't tell me first.

And he might not tell me first. But I'm okay with that. We're human. People make mistakes. People have done worse things in the history of the world. Nothing he's done so far seems malicious to me. And I sure as shit don't want to embarrass him. I want him to trust me. To know that whatever he shares with me is safe. Blowing up at him and demanding answers would only ruin everything.

I just don't really want to lose what we've only just started.

"Can I borrow something to sleep in?" I ask, when the second episode has ended.

"Sure."

He walks toward his dresser but stops in place when I speak.

"I want the shirt you're wearing."

He holds my gaze. "Okay. Do you mind if I…" His fingers graze the button of his jeans.

"Not at all," I quickly agree. "Take them off. Take everything off."

His laugh is husky, amused. "Not everything, Bella."

I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head and removes his jeans, standing in front of me in only a pair of black briefs.

This motherfucker.

He's toned and tatted and absolutely perfect.

"You've really nailed the handsome to sexy ratio very nicely," I tell him. "You should be proud."

He doesn't look proud, though. He looks a little modest, albeit a bit amused by my reaction.

My eyes explore his inked body as he sits back down next to me. I hungrily take in the black raven that's just above his pec, the feathers grazing his collarbone. I stare at the lion tattoo that covers his heart, which instantly makes me think he's trying to guard it.

I let my gaze linger on his sleeve. My fingers trail a featherlight path up and down his arm, until I'm tracing over the lion. His smile is shy, almost nervous as I ogle his body.

"No colored tattoos?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Personal preference," he says. "I just think blackwork looks better."

I think of his Instagram, and how most of his clients' tattoos are in blackwork, too. I nearly mention it, then stop myself.

"What's on your back?" I ask greedily.

He shifts a little, and I don't know what to think about the large tattoo covering his left shoulder blade. It's a skull smoking a cigarette, but half of it is skeletal, and the other half is the shadow of a man's face. Smoke from the cigarette wafts across the top of his upper back. It's beautiful, almost melancholy.

"Is this you?" I ask quietly.

"I guess so."

I lean over and press a kiss to the tattoo, leaving my mouth there. "It makes me kinda sad. I don't know why," I murmur against his skin. "What made you get this?"

"I just… guess… sometimes I have a hard time being myself. Opening up to people? I don't know."

"Why?"

He's quiet, but I don't move. I don't want my eyes on his face because he might close himself off.

"I don't know," he whispers. "Have you ever felt not good enough before?"

"I mean, yeah. But not like… this." He sniffs and turns to me. "You're good enough," I whisper.

Sincerity fills his eyes, and he leans over to kiss me. It's soft. Sweet.

"Thank you for showing me your tattoos. For sharing this side of you," I murmur against his lips.

"Not like I had a choice," he teases lightly. "You wanted my shirt."

"And you so easily gave it to me."

"Maybe I just have zero willpower when it comes to you."

I shake my head, breathing out a laugh and grabbing his shirt. I remove my clothes, everything but my underwear, and it's kind of adorable how he looks away, busying himself with starting the next episode of the show. I pull his shirt over my head, and the look he gives me once it's hanging off my body makes my heart skip a little.

"What?"

"What?" he echoes, and I smirk. "I just… like seeing you in my shirt. That's all."

I slip under the blanket and lie next to him again. Halfway through the third episode, I fall asleep with my head on his chest, listening to the soft hum of his laughter and wondering how someone like him could ever feel less than.

xx

It's still dark out when I wake up. I'm disoriented for a moment, until I remember where I am.

One of the windows is covered by the blackout shade, but the other has moonlight streaming through. I roll over so I'm facing Edward. After a second, he shifts in his sleep and drapes an arm over my hip.

I scoot even closer to him, staring at all the shapes that dance across his body. I notice a smaller skeleton etched into his skin, along his bicep, amongst other tattoos. I wonder if he's done that on purpose—hidden different skeletons on his body. It makes my heart hurt. I desperately want to know why he's so guarded, and I wonder if he'll ever really let me in.

He stirs a bit, then his eyes flutter open and stare back at me.

"You're watching me sleep?" he teases, yawning.

"Shut up," I laugh quietly.

He tightens his grip on my hip and pulls me flush with him, burying his face in the nook of my neck.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbles against my skin, pressing the smallest kiss to my collarbone.

My body tingles from his touch. Desire burns hot inside of me, and I don't think it'll ever fade out because I am so crazy about this man.

"I can't sleep with you… like this…"

"Like what?" he asks, face still buried.

But he fucking knows. His warm body is pressed to mine, his hot breath is on my neck. His hand slides up under the back of my shirt, and his rough palm covers the small of my back.

"Like… holding me all hot and sweet and—"

When he laughs, I can feel his breath fan out across my skin. He pulls back, so I can see his face.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I whisper.

We stare at one another. My chest is beating so fucking fast because being this close to him with minimal clothing is difficult. I'm not sure how we managed to fall asleep without touching one another the way I crave.

The air is thick with tension vibrating between us, and he leans in to kiss me. His hand cups the side of my face. Our mouths are give and take—he's giving me the sweetest, sexiest kisses, and I'm gladly taking them.

"Edward," I pant, and his mouth moves along my neck, nipping at my shoulder. Feeling his teeth graze gently on my skin ignites something inside of me.

I pull his shoulders, so he's lying on top of me, between my legs.

He doesn't stop me from doing it, either.

"Unngh," he groans out, slowly rolling his hips against mine.

It feels so much better than earlier, now that there's barely any clothing between us. I can feel him, all of him.

"I want this," I whisper, turning my head so he can suck on my neck.

His movements slow to a stop. "I'm trying to keep this… uncomplicated."

I laugh. "Oh. Is that what you're doing?"

"You know what I mean."

"It won't be complicated."

"Sex complicates things," he counters.

"I don't need sex, Edward. I just… want to feel close to you."

A beat passes and then his hips are moving again.

"Do you know…" He pauses.

"What?"

"How easy," he whispers, "it would be for me… to take my shirt off of you."

"Yes."

"To kiss my way up your thigh…"

"Uh huh."

"To hook my finger around your underwear and slide my fingers…"

I push my hips against his. "Go on."

His eyes are dark, glazed over. "I don't think I can."

"You can," I insist, voice husky and wanton.

"I could, and I would love every goddamn minute of it. But, fuck. Bella..."

"I want you. I don't care… I don't—"

I can't bring myself to say that I don't care if he's Masen because even though they're the same person, this isn't about Masen. This is about Edward. This is about me wanting Edward from day one. That sexy, motherfucking broody, tattooed coding instructor that made my blood boil, and my heart race.

Masen was just a bonus—a way for me to get to know Edward. And now that I do… I never want to stop.

"I could make you feel so good," I whisper, and he groans again, staring down at me.

"You're already making me feel good."

"It could be so much better though," I murmur into his ear, then pull his earlobe between my teeth. "Please tell me you want this."

He caves a little and pushes his erection against me again, kissing me harder.

"Of course I want this," he grits out. "I've wanted this since the first day I saw you."

I push his shoulder so he's lying on his back and I'm sitting up, straddling him.

I take off my shirt. Or rather, his shirt.

He stares at my chest like he's in pain.

I half expect him to tell me to put it back on, but he surprises me, sitting up a little.

"You are so…" He kisses my left breast. "Fucking." Then the right. "Beautiful."

My chest is rising and falling with each pass of his tongue against my nipple.

"Touch me. Like you said."

"I am," he murmurs around my breast.

"Edward."

When he pulls back, his gaze is dark, full of lust and want and maybe a little frustration that I'm teasing him so fucking bad like this.

But he's teasing me, too.

He moves me off him, and I'm disappointed for a moment that this is over. A beat passes, and he moves to the bottom of the mattress, on his knees, staring down at me.

"Well?" I ask, impatient.

I watch his head barely shake from side to side before he moves carefully and hooks his fingers around the sides of my underwear, sliding them down my thighs. It's painstakingly slow, like he could change his mind any second. Once they're off, though, anticipation and lust flicker in my belly.

When he kisses his way up my body, I shiver under his touch and laugh a little when his lips pass over my ribs.

Then he's lying next to me but not touching me.

Like he's testing his restraint.

"Edward."

A beat passes, and his hand slides down over my stomach and starts exploring where I want him most. He sucks in a breath, and I bite my lip when he slides a finger, then two, inside of me. He's gentle. Curious. When I move my hips against his hand, his fingers move faster.

"Jesus, Bella."

"Fuck," I pant into his mouth, gripping at his shoulders. "Fuck, I want you."

"I want you, too. You don't even know."

"I do know," I breathe out, sliding my hand inside his briefs to grip him. "I do."

His thumb brushes my clit over and over again, and I clench my eyes closed as I breathlessly come against his hand.

With my hand still in his briefs, I kiss him. It's lazy, sated.

I move from beside him and kiss my way down his body.

"Bella…"

"What?"

"You don't have to."

"I want to." Then I pull out his dick through the opening in his briefs and take him into my mouth.

He groans and grunts and tangles his hand in my hair. I move up and down, sucking and licking and adding my hand until he's shaking and telling me it's so good, Bella, so fucking good.

I love hearing him come undone.

When I lie next to him again, I don't get dressed. He pulls the blanket up over us and I drape an arm across his stomach.

We're quiet. His fingers gently trail along my arm, and it's such a comforting feeling, I almost fall asleep.

"You okay?" he murmurs.

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah."

"I'd say I'm sorry for seducing you, but… I'm not sorry. Not even a little bit."

He laughs sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss to my temple. "I mean… I was a willing participant."

I tilt my head to kiss his jaw. "You really, really were."

xx

I wake up alone.

Early morning light shines through the large window, and I sit up, blinking. My phone says it's 7 a.m. I groan at how early I'm up for a day off and for how much I drank yesterday.

I get up and find a note on the counter.

Went to get us coffee. Please don't leave.

I go to the bathroom and dig through some drawers to find a washcloth. I stick it under the faucet and wipe under my eyes, hating that I wasn't able to take off my makeup last night. I'm rinsing with some mouthwash when I hear the front door open. I walk out to find Edward carrying two to-go cups of coffee.

I'm wearing his shirt and nothing else. It's long enough to cover my ass, and I catch him staring at my bare legs with an indecent expression on his face.

He kicks off his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Coffee?"

"I usually drink Starbucks," I say, gauging his reaction. His face stays neutral. "But sure."

"You'll like this."

I take a careful sip. It's smooth, nutty but not overpowering. And fine. Starbucks isn't good. But it's easy, convenient.

"You're right," I tell him. "I like it."

He sets his coffee on the floor and regards me for a second.

"I'm glad you stayed with me last night," he says, gently pulling me to stand between his legs before hooking his arms around my thighs.

I was worried he'd be cold today. Standoffish. Maybe feeling a little guilty after what we did last night. And if he is, he's not showing it. But I'm glad because I don't regret a single fucking thing. And I don't want him to, either.

"I'm glad I stayed, too." My heart soars. It might be dangerous but, "Can we just stay in bed all day?"

"I have some stuff to do later," he says, disappointed. I'm fucking disappointed too. "Otherwise, I'd say yes. I'd also make you breakfast but…"

Your fridge is full of beer and hot sauce? I think to myself, and then I chuckle out loud when I imagine how he'd react if I actually said that.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I know your lack of skills in the kitchen," I tell him. "I have zero expectations of you ever feeding me."

"I can feed you," he says dryly. "I can buy you breakfast?"

"Okay."

We walk to a diner a few blocks from his place and finish our coffees along the way. I'm still wearing his shirt, but I've knotted it on the side so it fits a little better. The look on his face when I put it on last night was too good to ever take it off.

"So, are you actually not gonna be dropping off Liam anymore?" Edward asks once we're seated in a booth and have more coffee in front of us.

"Yeah. Renee hired a nanny," I tell him. "I also kinda told you that because I wanted a reaction from you. But you gave me nothing." I sound a little more hurt than I mean to, but his lack of reply really did sting.

"I'm sorry, Bella." I shrug. "I was disappointed when I read your text I just…" He spins the salt shaker between his fingers. "I wasn't sure what to say."

"Disappointed, huh? You gonna miss seeing me or something?"

"Or something." He smiles a little. "Yes. I'm gonna miss seeing you."

"Well. That just means we'll have to hang out more… right?"

His eyes nearly sparkle. "I'd like that."

"Me too."

"Like Friday?" he asks, hopeful. "Will you come to my show?"

"Whoa, dude. Moving a little too fast, don't you think?" I joke.

"I thought you wanted it fast," he murmurs, licking his lips.

"I do," I say, feeling my cheeks burn. "You fucker."

The sound of his laughter makes my heart feel so light in my chest.

"Come to my show, Bella. I want to actually hang out with you this time… without Jake."

"Okay. I'll go. But I don't want to wait a whole week to see you."

"Me either."

"Let's hang out Wednesday. Keep up the tradition of seeing each other twice a week."

He nods, gaze softening. "I'm down."

"Good." I sip the last of my coffee. "I was hoping you'd say that."

xx

When Edward drops me off at home, we linger in the truck and prolong our goodbye. I'm not sure if he wants to kiss me, or if I should kiss him. In the end I go for it, leaning over the seat and pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth. If I'm able to do this whenever I want, I'm sure as shit gonna take advantage of it.

I spend the remainder of the day wearing his shirt and purposely not reaching out to Masen. But when I see he's uploaded a new photo to his Instagram, I can't really help myself. It's a sketch of two peonies—the petals soft and delicate, the complete opposite from the black ink it's intended for. He drew them just the way I described to him that night in my bed, when I was sick. He's basically begging for me to figure it out at this point, growing bolder with each passing day.

Swannie: Someone's been busy.

Masenry: What do you mean?

Swannie: The peonies. I like them.

Masenry: Thanks.

Swannie: Did you draw them with someone in mind?

Masenry: Yeah.

Swannie: Hmm. Wanna tell me about her?

Masenry: That might be weird.

I smile at my screen.

Swannie: Weird how?

Masenry: Because I just… think it would be.

It's funny how Edward's opened up to me, and now Masen is deciding to close himself off. But maybe that's a good thing.

Swannie: You said you were really into her. Right? I think you should go for it.

Masenry: I think I might.

Swannie: Good. Remember the guy I mentioned to you yesterday? Things feel very "on" with him again. So… yeah.

Masenry: That changed fast.

Swannie: I'm quick to forgive.

Masenry: Are you? That's good to know.

Swannie: Why? You got something to be sorry for?

Masenry: Not sure yet.

Swannie: Well, I'm all ears if you ever wanna come clean.

Masenry: I might take you up on that soon.

Swannie: I hope so.