It's Friday at noon (in Seattle, anyway.) Time for a "consultation" with Masen!

Huge, huge thanks to Hadley for making this pretty and offering the best feedback. And to Mich for going over this with me time & time again. Like legit... so many times lol

THANK YOU for reading. And loving these characters as much as I do.

Still a few chapters to go... :)

When I walk into work, Esme just shakes her head and laughs.

"I know, I know. But look!" I shove a paper bag into her hands. "I bought croissants."

She quirks a brow. "You work up an appetite?"

"Just a sorry-I'm-late-don't-be-pissed gesture."

"I don't think you've ever been late before. Did something come… up?" She laughs even harder at her own joke.

"I forgot to set an alarm is all." It's not a lie. I just leave out the part where Edward and I had mind-blowing sex and that he made me come harder than anyone ever has. No one needs to hear that before ten in the morning.

I'll wait until at least eleven to tell her that.

"Sure, sure." She bites into one of the croissants. "The ol' alarm excuse."

"It won't happen again," I say as I clock in.

"I'm not mad, you nerd. For someone who spent their morning getting boned, you sure are in a bad mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood," I say, sitting on the stool. "I'm just… I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

"Uh oh."

"I think Edward might try to tell me he's Masen tonight."

"Oh!" She brightens at this. "That's good."

"I guess."

Now she's confused. "Is it bad?"

"It's not bad, but… I'm going to the tattoo shop at noon to meet him. I made an appointment under a different name, and I'm gonna show up and be like… yo."

Esme cracks a smile. "What a plan."

I feel panicky again. The worry set in a couple of different times when I was with him this morning, but I tried to let it go. I didn't want him to think my feelings had anything to do with us and having slept together.

"Poor kid's gonna get the shock of a lifetime," she laughs gently.

"Should I just no-show him? Maybe just let him tell me in his own way? He kept saying we need to talk later. I'll hold off—"

"No."

"But what if he gets embarrassed? Or thinks I was fucking with hi—"

"You don't have bad intentions. And neither does he. So it'll be fine," she reassures me. "Stop second-guessing yourself. Besides, it's kinda full circle, doing it this way. Stick with your plan."

I feel slightly better. "You mean stick with my 'yo' plan? Because that's all I got."

She chuckles. "Well, obviously come up with something better than that."

I spend the next few hours pretending to work and trying to come up with exactly what I want to say to him. But the more I think about it, the more nervous I get.

So, I need to just wing it. As long as I'm honest with him, nothing can go wrong.

Soon enough, it's nearing noon.

Esme wishes me good luck and gives me the warmest hug before I head across town.

When I'm standing outside of Artful Dodger, I'm a fucking wreck. On the inside, at least. On the outside, I'm calm, chill.

I've never taken "fake it 'til you make it" to heart more than at this very moment.

In retrospect, thinking about revealing this to Edward seemed fun. When Jess and I drank mimosas on her birthday and laughed about it all—about the shock that would be on his face and how I'd have the upper hand—it was comical.

But so much has changed in just one week.

It started out as wanting to get even with him. Then he started opening up to me, more than he ever had. The more he did, the more I fell. And the more I fell, the more I understood his motive.

I just hope he doesn't freak out, and understands my motive as well.

I head inside, thankful he's not sitting at the front desk. I hadn't thought about what would happen if he were standing out in the open. Thankfully, Alice greets me alone. I scan the area and only see two other tattoo artists with clients.

"Vi-purr!" she says, laughing at the nickname she's given me. "What can I do for ya?"

I smile. She has such a calm, easy vibe to her, so my nerves lessen a little. "I actually have a consultation with Masen today."

"Right on. What are you looking to get done?"

"Hopefully, a peonies tattoo."

"Is this your first?"

"Yeah." I glance around, still a little nervous.

"How big were you thinking?"

"I dunno…" I hold out my hands, trying to measure how big the sketch Edward drew was.

"I love that idea, but with it being your first tattoo, I wonder if you should get something smaller. Just so you know what it feels like. Less commitment if it's too much for you, you know?"

I wasn't expecting her to start a full-on conversation with me, and I can barely focus on what she's saying. At any moment, Edward could walk in. I'm too flustered for this.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe you're right," I say distractedly. It's not like I'm actually getting a tattoo today. This is just a consultation. I can think about the logistics later.

"Don't worry," she says, maybe sensing my nerves. "You'll be in good hands with Masen."

"I think I'll be in good hands with him, too." Maybe I say it a little too dreamily because Alice laughs a little, giving me a funny look.

"Midnight Sun is playing a show tonight. Will I see you there again?" she wonders.

"Yeah, you will."

"When I saw you at their last show, I was totally gonna point out that Masen is the bassist in the band. But clearly you already knew that."

Clearly.

I didn't know at the time, obviously. I nearly laugh at the close call that would've been. Things would've probably gone down differently if Alice had blown his cover then. I would've been pissed. Embarrassed. I wasn't in as deep with Edward as I am now, that's for sure.

"He's really talented, isn't he?" I muse.

"Definitely. Sometimes I try to remind him what a loser he was in high school, just to keep him grounded." Alice laughs, shaking her head.

I smile genuinely at this. "You knew him in high school?"

"Oh, yeah. We go way back. Like, elementary school. My boyfriend Jas and I are close with him."

Jasper and the girlfriend. The friends who helped him when he was in need.

I knew I liked her for a reason.

"Oh, wow," is all I say because I'm too overwhelmed with feeling grateful Edward has people like them in his life.

"Yeah. All joke's aside, Mase is a really good guy."

"I think so, too." My entire face must give me away because Alice catches my eye for a second, but she doesn't push.

I wonder if Edward told her about me—about Masen and Swannie and everything else. If he's known her for ages, he might've confided in her. Then again, maybe not.

"Well, we should totally have a beer later if I see you at the show," she says, friendly enough.

"For sure." I smile back at her. "I'd like that."

"Sweet. Well, Masen's in the break room," she says, standing from her chair. "I'll let him know you're a little early."

"Wait." Fuck. "Without explaining what the hell is going on, would you mind if I just went to his work station and waited for him there?"

She shrugs. "Sure, whatever. Take the stairs up to the loft. His area is in the back right corner."

"Okay." I turn on my heel, then stop again. "And when you tell him his client is here, will you refer to me as Marie?"

She looks confused but highly amused. "Will do… Marie."

Thank fuck she's so relaxed. I, on the other hand, am overwhelmed with anticipation and anxiety.

I walk up the stairs and inspect his work station in the corner of the loft. There's a tattoo chair and a rolling cart with materials on it. Next to that, there's a desk. Random tattoos frame the wall surrounding his area. Some are taped up, and some are scattered around his workspace.

I see the sketch of me—the girl with the flowing hair and petals floating around her. It's tacked to the wall, like he wanted to look at it every day. There's the drawing of the Starbucks cup with "fuck off" scrawled on the front, the one that started all this. I see the swan and the peonies. I pick up that one and smile down at it. It's so pretty. Delicate. Exactly the way I'd described my favorite flower to him that first night in my bed, when he was taking care of me.

God. All this time it was him. I mean, deep down I think I knew. Maybe. And it wasn't that long. Edward only kept up the charade as Masen for a few weeks. And during that time, he made sure I fell for him in every capacity. It really worked out in his favor.

I hear shuffled footsteps on the stairs. A nervous clearing of a throat. Then I turn around to see Edward.

He looks as pale as a fucking ghost.

The very moment I see him, though, it's like all my nerves fade away.

"Yo." I'm an idiot. "I mean… hi."

I set the peonies drawing back on his desk.

"Bella?" The look of pure shock on his face doesn't feel nearly as good as I thought it would. He looks worried sick, the epitome of a guy who's on the verge of losing everything. "Fuck."

"Fuck pretty much sums it up," I say, and I purposely keep my tone kind of light. I can see his tension ease up a little.

"Shit." He stays where he is. "Not that I want you to, but why aren't you freaking out?"

"Why aren't you freaking out?" I echo.

He fists some hair, blowing out a ragged breath. "I am."

He takes a few hesitant steps closer, but still keeps his distance.

"So should I call you Edward or Masen?"

He frowns. "Just call me Edward."

"Where did the name Masen come from?"

"It was my mom's maiden name, and it's my middle name." My eyes flick to the E and M on his forearm. Elizabeth Masen. "Some friends call me Masen, too." He clears his throat. "What about Marie?"

"Middle name." My smile is faint. "Can I sit?" I ask, pointing toward the tattoo chair.

He looks shocked. "You want to… stay?"

"I mean, don't you think we should talk this out?"

"I just didn't think you'd want to," he says honestly, doubt clear in his expression.

My heart hurts imagining him thinking I was going to figure out the truth and immediately leave him.

No wonder he didn't want to tell me.

"That's not the kind of person I am, Edward. This situation isn't black and white to me. Okay?"

"Okay."

I sit on the edge of the chair, but he stays standing. "I realized you were Masen a week ago."

It's like I can see his mind working out the timeline. "How?"

"Things just kind of… clicked." I'll get into my conversation with Jess and the Instagram investigation later. But for now, clicked sums it up.

"I see." His voice is low, worried. "I wanted to tell you so many fucking times, but I was scared," he murmurs, pulling on the back of his neck.

"Scared of what?" I ask quietly.

"Losing you. You hating me. You thinking I'm a liar and a fuck-up and—"

"I don't think any of that, and I don't hate you. I could never hate you."

He stares at the ground. "When did you actually find out?"

"The night you came out for Jess's birthday. Earlier that day."

Recognition flashes in his eyes, and it's like I can see him putting together all the pieces from the last week. The things I said to him, the hints I gave. My teasing and flirting with Masen then ultimately breaking things off with him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he says honestly. "I wanted to. I did. But the more I got to know you, the less I wanted to tell you. It was selfish."

"It wasn't selfish. I get it." My eyes land on the peonies sketch. "You're not mad at me for not telling you I figured it out a week ago?"

"No." I watch him swallow. "I thought maybe you knew, but then you went and broke up with Masen, which confused the shit out of me. I guess it makes sense now."

"I did that because I wanted you to know I was all in. That you were enough for me and that I wanted just you."

We fall quiet and just stare at one another. I'm not really sure where to go from here.

"You wanted me?" he echoes. "So, you're done with me, right?"

"I'm nowhere near done with you," I say lightly, offering an encouraging smile.

His nod is small, and so is his voice. "So this doesn't completely change everything?"

"Oh, it changes everything," I tell him honestly, and his face falls for a moment. "It changes everything but in the best fucking way. There's no longer any secrets between us. It's all out there."

He looks genuinely surprised by what I'm saying. So, I keep going.

"It's not like the way I feel for you can just fizzle out that fast. And over what? You wanting to get to know me? I'd be fucking stupid if I let you go over that."

"So, you're not pissed?"

"No. If I were mad, I wouldn't have had sex with you last night," I point out. "And this morning," I add for good measure.

His cheeks go pink around the edges, and it's kind of fucking adorable. "You don't regret sleeping with me?"

"I could never regret that." And I mean it. I would never let anything as bitter as regret taint being with him.

He gravitates a little closer to me, like he's finally starting to get it, and it makes my stomach flutter.

"Bella, I'm sorry," he says again. His tone is so fucking sincere, and it tugs at my heart.

"I loved talking to Masen. But you could've just talked to me as you, you know."

"I didn't know that." Another nervous hand through his hair. "And it was easier to talk to you from behind a screen. I didn't think you'd go for me. You're you. I'm me. I don't know."

I hate the way he's downplaying who he is as a person right now. "That's so untrue," I mumble, suddenly feeling emotional when I think about him feeling inferior and not good enough for me. "You're—"

"An asshole?" he offers. "A fuck-up?"

"No." I swallow back my emotion. "You don't see yourself clearly, Edward. At all."

He shrugs. "You see something that I don't?"

"Yes." I inhale a deep breath. "I see a man who's passionate. Who loved his mom and still cherishes her to this day. Who still tries with his dad but refuses to let that relationship define him. I see a guy who's shy and timid, but when he opens up, it's so worth it. His smile and his laugh are rare but when he lets his guard down and lets you in, he's so fucking worth it. I see someone who's tender and loving, someone who went out of his way to take care of me."

I see someone I think I might love.

Fuck.

I'm completely in love with him.

"I see all the good parts of you," I tell him, tears blurring my eyes.

"You really think all of that?" he questions, like at any moment I'll take back what I've just said.

"No, I know all of that," I whisper, and a faint, almost reassured smile forms on his lips. "I've seen you as Edward and as Masen. Both sides of you mean so fucking much to me. Don't you see that?"

"I think I'm starting to." He lets out the deepest breath. "I'm sorry I lied to you. That will never fucking happen again."

"You didn't outright lie. And I forgive you," I say simply. "Pretty crazy concept, right?"

He takes another hesitant step closer to me, and now, if I wanted to reach out and grab him, I could.

So, I do.

I tug at the hem of his shirt and pull him over to me. I scoot further back on the seat, so he can stand between my legs. My fingers grasp the cotton covering his abdomen to keep him in place, and he stares down at me, searching my eyes, like he's still uncertain why I'm not mad.

He swallows. "I'd deserve it if you were pissed at me."

"You don't deserve that. At all." I search his face, find earnestness in his eyes. "I know you well enough to know you weren't being malicious. You were just scared. Guarded. And after meeting your dad..." I shake my head. "I get it."

"I was gonna tell you the truth," he admits quietly. "Before the show."

"Beat ya to it, I guess."

I smile gently, and he leans in to press his forehead against mine.

I tug at his shirt and pull him even closer until our mouths meet. Our kiss is sensual, slow, and free of any lingering tension because it's all out there now. It's all out there, and we can be together, the way we want to be. I grab the back of his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair.

"You'll still come to the show?" he asks, keeping his forehead against mine.

I laugh a little. "Definitely. You're not getting rid of me now."

"So, when I tell the door guy to put your name on the list tonight, maybe I could refer to you as my—"

"If I hear the word friend again, I might lose it," I warn with a grin.

He cracks a smile. "No. I was thinking more like my girlfriend."

"You could do that," I say, keeping my expression neutral. "You have to ask me first."

He opens his mouth, releasing a small laugh. "Shit. Right." He straightens and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and it's such a tender move that makes my heart leap out of my chest. "Be with me?" he asks quietly. "Be my girlfriend?"

I answer him with a kiss. "Okay." I grin. "Yes."

He smiles lightly, shyly, and stares down between us.

"So, that peonies tattoo," I say, giving him a look. "You told Marie it wasn't up for grabs. What gives?"

"Because I drew it for you. It's yours. No one else's."

He is going to kill me, I swear.

"You gonna mark me?" I ask, voice lowered. "Make me yours?"

He swallows. "That's the plan."

"Where?" I ask, licking my lips.

His fingers gingerly lift my shirt, caressing the skin across my ribs, and I shiver under his touch.

"I was thinking here," he says huskily. "And maybe here?" he adds, fingers skimming over the back of my shoulder. "And…" His hand falls between us, and I feel his touch trail from the side of my thigh, up to my hip. "I wanna do this part, too. So much unmarked skin."

"I'm just a blank canvas to you, aren't I?" I tease, but my heart is beating out of my chest, imagining him tattooing me.

"No." He shakes his head. "You're more than that to me. You're everything. Remember?"

I pull him closer and press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I remember," I whisper against his mouth. "You're everything to me, too, Edward Masen."