Heh. Well, this is embarrassing. It's been like four years since this story was updated, and well, all that was missing, really, was this chapter. Like, everything else has been written. I blame grad school.

Thank you for sticking with this story, if you're reading this. This story has been near to my heart for awhile – it's grown with me and looking back at this Bella, I see a lot of my teen self in her because well – in a way I wrote her as a piece of me. Stubborn and a little strained.

I hope you enjoy this chapter – a little fluffy, a hint of lemon ;) I like to think that this Edward and Bella are a lot less, well… obsessive? More relaxed? Slightly more likely to give in to their crazy mad love for each other? idk

If you enjoyed, don't forget to drop me a line – your reviews bring me happiness. And now, the moment you've been waiting for.

Chapter Fourteen:

Recovery

Rage boiled in my blood and burned like acid behind my eyes and on my tongue. The edges of my vision blackened, tunnel vision focusing me on one thing: Bree.

Bree. Bree, Bree, Bree, Bree.

Bree, who had made the last eleven years of my life a living hell.

Bree, who had laughed at my pain, my suffering.

Bree, who had done nothing but ruin me.

Bree, who would extinguish me like a small, flickering flame in a darkened room.

No, I couldn't let that happen. I would crush her, destroy her, even if it killed me.

My teeth gritted painfully, grinding; the sound of it reverberated up through my jaw.

My fists clenched, my mouth contorted into a snarl, I exploded. Shoving at her in my mind, I flattened her, swallowing her protests; her attempts to fight back useless, for a change.

I stumbled – I was aware of that much. My legs gave out as I pushed against her, my ears roaring with white noise and my sight dimming, but I didn't feel myself hit the ground. I hung, weightless, as my breath left me.

~o~

I came to on the floor. I wasn't sure how long I'd been there, but it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds.

Edward's face was swimming in the air above mine, his cold hands holding my face. His mouth shaped words that I couldn't hear over the incredible, deafening silence.

She was gone; I could feel it in every corner of my mind, in every fiber of my being. It was like I had been in a dim, musty room my whole life and I had only just thrown open the window to let fresh air and light in. I filled my body completely for the first time that I could remember.

My hands fisted in Edward's sweater, my breathing rapid.

I was free.

Tears welled in my eyes, burning and falling in thick, sticky trails into my hair.

"Oh god, Edward," I sobbed, holding him to me like he might just disappear. "Please, please don't leave."

Edward shushed me, rubbing my back calmingly. "I'm not going anywhere."

I babbled uncontrollably, "I'm so scared, oh, god, Edward. I thought – I thought that she'd get rid of me and I'd never see you again." The rest was unintelligible and I couldn't focus on what I was saying, anyway. My heart was pounding and I could barely see; my eyes and throat felt raw.

"I'm here, don't worry, you're going to be okay," Edward reassured over my cries. He picked me up, holding me in his arms like I weighed nothing and the next thing I knew, I was on my bed. I gripped his sweater sleeve in my hand, sniveling and refusing to let him go. He pulled my blanket over me to cover me up and then laid down next to me, wrapping his cold, strong arms around me.

I closed my eyes, breathing in his smell, the wool of his sweater, trying to calm down, but failing miserably. The blanket was wrapped around my neck and shoulders and I wanted nothing more than to put my arms around his neck and just hold him to me, so he couldn't leave.

Wrestling the blanket down and ignoring Edward's attempts to pull it back up, I slipped my arms around his neck and tried to hold back the wracking sobs.

Eventually, I calmed down enough to remember that I was naked except for the quilt over me, but I didn't care. Edward had already seen everything and he was touching me, his chilly fingers caressing my scarred back.

It sent shivers through my body, but his embrace was the surest thing I had ever known.

I tipped my face up, my nose in his soft hair and sighed, still crying, but not as hard as before.

"Edward," I whispered into his neck, pressing my lips against the crook of it. "Edward."

I shifted a little, pressing my body more firmly against his and inhaling again as the quilt dropped down to my hips. His breath tickled the short hair by my ear. "Bella?"

"Kiss me," I murmured, tilting my head back so that I could look into his angular, molten eyes mere inches from mine. "Kiss me."

Our lips touched and the kiss was soft, gentle, at first. He didn't move, still beside me as I kissed his unyielding mouth and shimmied up slightly on the bed so that his face was level with mine.

A slow warmth was building deep in my abdomen and finally, finally he kissed back. His hands sent electricity running through my body as he inhaled sharply, pulling me closer to him by my hips.

I hitched my leg over his, his jeans rough against my bare thigh. My hands wove into his hair and I tried to pull him over me, rocking back with my body, but he was as immobile as stone.

"Edward," I breathed, kissing along his jaw. "Please, I – I need you, Edward. Please." I found his lips again, urging him again with my heel. I could feel him hard against me and I ground down, gasping. "Edward."

Something in him seemed to snap; he was over me, hips pressing along the inside on my thighs, one hand cradling the small of my back and the other hitching my leg up. I moaned, holding him to me as his lips crushed against mine, my hand snaking down his neck and around is back.

He tasted like honey and lilacs and I never wanted this to stop, not ever. I yanked at his sweater, pulling it up so that I could feel his chiseled chest.

His skin was like ice and it stole my breath as his stomach pressed to mine. I gasped as his lips dipped down to my neck, my collarbone, over my breast. I felt like I was made of fire, my pulse pounding in my ears, my body throbbing for attention.

His hands were on my hips again, holding me in place against him, and I lifted his face back to mine for another searing kiss, pushing his hand down between our bodies. I arched into him as his fingers brushed against me, panting heavily against his shoulder. I felt his mouth on my neck. "Edward," I breathed.

A rush of cold air; my hands fell back onto the bed, empty, and I sat up. He stood in the corner, tense, his eyes the darkest I'd ever seen them. "Edward, what are you doing?"

I made to stand up, but his burning stare held me in place. "No," he said, his velvet voice barely a whisper. "I – I need a minute." He clamped a hand over his mouth, glancing down. He inhaled deeply through his nose, held it, and then exhaled harshly.

I pulled the abandoned quilt over me, still aching for his touch.

"We shouldn't be doing this. Not now, not after all of that. I shouldn't've – I almost –"

I interrupt him, standing this time despite his sharp gaze. "Edward, I want this –"

"No," he snapped. He visibly deflated. "I'm sorry. I – I can't."

"Is it because of this?" I probed angrily. The blanket dropped from around my chest and I gestured angrily at my scars. "Am I not good enough for you –"

He picked up the quilt in a movement so fast that I didn't even see it. He wrapped it around my shoulders, his gaze boring into me, and held it there. "No, it's not that. Never. You know how I feel about you. But, Bella, I think we should call Carlisle –"

"Why? So he can dig into our relationship? That's what you want, isn't it?" The words were out of my mouth before I could even think twice about them, vicious.

"What? No," he blurted, his brows furrowing. "I don't understand, Bella –"

"Get out!" I yelled, burning with embarrassment, shoving his hands away from me. "Get out! I don't want you here, Edward, go away."

His expression was heartbreaking, but I was on a tear, irrationally angry, and even as I recognized that this was unreasonable, I didn't care.

"You heard me, get out! Fuck you, Edward Cullen, if you think that unless I'm sniveling and crying that I'm not – what the fuck are you doing?!"

He had his tiny silver phone up to his ear, deftly fielding my attempts to snatch it away. "Oh, so you're going to call Carlisle now, huh? Get out! Get out!" I shoved him toward my bedroom door, mutedly surprised when he let me, and slammed the door in his face, locking it swiftly. It wouldn't stop him from coming in, but at least it would make him think twice about it.

I could hear him in the hallway, but I didn't care, I just didn't want to have to look at his stupid face any longer.

I grabbed my lamp from my desk and threw it at the door when I heard him try to turn the knob. The light bulb shattered, sending glass skittering across the floor.

"Bella –"

"No, fuck you, Edward! I don't need to be fixed."

"I never said you did, Bella," he reasoned through the door. "Come on, please. Open the door."

I ignored his persistent knocking, digging in my closet for sweats and shoes so I didn't have to tiptoe around the broken glass on the floor, and turning on the radio to drown him out. I laid down on my bed, irritated, and curled up with a pillow, letting the hard notes feed the anger gnawing at my chest.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, but I didn't pick it up. Edward stopped knocking. The next song came on and then the next. My phone vibrated again.

"Goddamnit," I snapped, grabbing it and flipping it open. "What?"

"Hi, Bella," Carlisle's smooth voice came over the speaker. "How are you?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I rolled over on the bed.

"Honey, I wish I was," he replied. "I just received a really troubling phone call from Edward. He says that you're really upset and he's worried about you."

"Well, he can just leave me the fuck alone," I said louder than I needed to, just to make sure Edward could hear me if he was still on the other side of the door.

"And what about me? Should I leave you alone?" He asked after a short pause.

"Probably," I grumbled.

"Here's the deal, Bella: I'm outside your house with Edward. You could look at us out the window, if you'd like…. Yeah, hi," he waved as I came over to the window; Edward was standing by his Volvo on the street, watching me.

I glared.

"So, I'm going to tell Edward to leave so we can have some privacy," I saw Edward's head snap toward Carlisle,"and we can talk about what's happening, okay?"

"Nothing's happening."

"I think we both know that's not true."

I narrowed my eyes. "And if I don't want to talk?"

Carlisle ran his fingers through his blond hair. He was still in his lab coat. "You are free to kick me out, but I'd like it if you could at least give me a couple minutes. Can you do that for me, Bella?"

I grimaced. "Fine."

"Alright. I'm just going to tell Edward to leave, then," he turned to look at Edward, the phone still pressed to his ear. Edward didn't look very pleased, but with one last look up at my window he climbed into his car and sped away. Carlisle waited a few moments before continuing, "I'm going to come upstairs, if that's alright with you, Bella."

I nodded after a moment and he saw the movement through the window. "Good."

I hung up and returned to my bed when I heard the front door close. I stood up again when Carlisle knocked on my bedroom door a few seconds later, having forgotten that I'd locked it, and then collapsed back, wrapping my quilt around me.

Carlisle left the door open a crack, moving to sit in my desk chair. The glass crunched under his heels. He sighed. "I know you don't appreciate bullshitting." I was slightly shocked as the word left his mouth, prim and proper Carlisle, but he continued without missing a beat, "So, I'm going to be really straight with you, Bella."

My cheek twitched and I hummed disgruntledly.

"Edward told me about how he found you. He also told me that he can't hear your thoughts normally, but this morning he could, which is how he knew that something wasn't right. I can understand that there are some things that you would rather keep to yourself, but I think it's very important that you be honest with me right now: is there something that you have been keeping from me that I should know about as your therapist?"

I almost lied, but Carlisle's expression made me think better of it. "Yes," I managed in a low whisper, ashamed. I brought the edge of the quilt up to cover my mouth.

"I'm not disappointed or angry with you, Bella, I just want to help you in any way that I can."

I stared down at my hands, deflating. "I know."

He waited patiently, not so much as moving an inch.

"I hear – heard – a voice. Bree. I'm not crazy, though – she was very real, Edward could hear her today – but no one else believed me about her, so…"

"You didn't think that I would believe you," he stated. His face was devoid of any expression, a blank slate.

"No. Why would anyone?"

He ignored my question. "What did Bree say to you?"

"Mostly insults. She liked to dredge up shit, make me feel horrible. Sometimes she would be so loud that I felt like I was going out of my mind, but lately she'd been pretty quiet."

"Was she loudest when you were feeling angry or depressed?"

I huffed. "I dunno – maybe?"

"When you tried to kill yourself, was she with you?"

I flinched. "Well, yes."

"And this morning?"

"Yes." I bit my lip, still hidden under the covers

"What happened?"

I finally looked up at him. "I couldn't get out of bed for school; I didn't care – yesterday or today. But today's been worse. I didn't sleep well and I was so tired and yet anxious for no fucking reason. And when I was in the bathroom I thought about, you know, self-harming – I didn't – but Bree was there, egging me on. I felt terrible – really, really bad – and I got in the shower to clear my head, but it didn't help, and I lost control."

There was the briefest pause. "You mean that Bree took control?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Has that happened a lot?"

"Sometimes, less in the last month or so, but she'd been quieter than ever, too, so I think that had something to do with it." I had to ask, I had to know. I wasn't even sure he would tell me the truth, but if anyone would, it would be him. "Carlisle, you believe me, right? You believe that she was real?"

"Bella, there is no doubt in my mind that she was real," Carlisle said calmly, looking past me, deep in thought. I believed him.

"What the hell was she? She used to tell me that she picked me, that she'd wanted my body for her own, but how the fuck is that even possible?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I don't know. Edward gleaned as much from her thoughts before you – uh, expelled her. I think we can safely say that she was probably a vampire, perhaps one with a rather sinister gift that allowed her to jump bodies."

My stomach dropped. "Is she out there, then? In someone else?"

He shrugged, pensive. "I don't know. I hope not, but I don't think she'll be bothering you again – I think you proved to her that you're far more trouble than you're worth."

"So, is that it, then?" I asked. "Is she why I've felt…?"

Carlisle gazed at me, contemplative. "Bella, do you remember when I told you to get rid of those anti-psychotics?"

"Of course," I said without thinking. Horror filled me. "I'm not taking them again. They didn't help –"

"I know," Carlisle reassured, his golden eyes, so much like Edward's, compassionate. "I don't want you to take them again. But, Bella, I think I've gotten to know you reasonably well over the last two months. Would you agree?"

"Sure," I muttered hesitantly.

"It is my belief that you are struggling – and have been coping, in your own way – with a very real illness, Bella. Whatever Bree was, however she exacerbated your symptoms, now that I know about her and she is gone, I think I have a clearer picture of what you've been dealing with on your own. How exactly have you been feeling lately?"

"I was feeling so great this week – you saw me. I was doing really well," I told him.

Carlisle nodded.

"I don't understand why I feel this way, Carlisle. Everything was on the up and up, and now – I've been so… angry, Carlisle, and I can't think, I can't sleep. I feel like there are a thousand brilliant things I can be doing right now and I could do all of them, perfectly, but I just can't muster up the energy to do any of them."

"And what happened with Edward just before he called me?"

"I don't know." I pinked a little. "I don't really know what I was thinking. I just really wanted to… uh, be with him. I didn't want him to leave and then he rejected me – and I'm really fucking angry about it."

"You know why he had to stop?"

God, this was not a conversation I wanted to be having right now. "The fucking blood. My fucking blood. But that doesn't make it any better," I warned. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Okay," Carlisle agreed. "That's fair."

My irritation sparked again because none of it was fair, but I tried to hold it in.

Carlisle seemed to be carefully wording whatever he was going to say next. "Bella, I would like you to try a mood stabilizer."

"Why the fuck would I take one of those?" I bit out.

"Because it might make you feel better," Carlisle said simply. "More, even. You've been feeling a little off-kilter, lately, right? Not yourself?"

"Mostly because I haven't been," I snarked.

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a pointed look.

I sighed. "Why do you want me to take it? You said that I didn't have to take meds anymore."

"Because, at the time, it was clear that what you were taking wasn't working for you. I believe that is because you are bipolar, Bella. The stuff with Bree and the side effects from the other medication was masking it, but what happened earlier today, both before and after she was gone, has made it clear to me that you're currently in a mixed state. Last week you seemed to me to be hypomanic, but I couldn't be sure at the time. Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head.

"It means that you probably felt great, perhaps you had some mildly grandiose ideas about yourself, and yet are also really easily irritated or frustrated– and this will have all seemed rational at the time and not necessarily out of the ordinary. That's the mania, which you seem to be experiencing very mildly – clinically, we call it hypomania."

I nodded, although my expression was twisted. "So what about a few weeks ago, then? Was that hypomania?"

"Did it feel like now?"

I grimaced, but nodded. "Sort of."

"Based on how you described it to me at the time and how it appeared, as well, I think that you may have been in a mixed state and are currently. A mixed state combines the depressive and manic symptoms, which are experienced at the same time." His hands were tracing through the air, gesturing to two spaces and then coming together. "I know that seems counterintuitive, but the deep depression, combined with the racing thoughts and energy, are hallmarks of a mixed state. I couldn't be sure at the time, so I didn't prescribe anything, but now I am fairly confident that I understand what is going on."

"And that's why I tried to commit suicide?" I didn't like the idea of being a slave to some sort of emotional state.

Carlisle could see my thought process on my face. "You tried to commit suicide because of what you were feeling. Knowing how to recognize these swings when they are happening and talking to someone about it is paramount to your well-being. Mixed states are very dangerous – often it can provide someone both the intent and the will to go through with suicide."

Carlisle's golden eyes scanned my face. "I suspect that when you come down from this 'high,' you'll start to wonder why you were so upset earlier and why you were feeling so antagonistic towards Edward and myself."

"This just feels like my type of normal, Carlisle. How do you know any of this," I demanded, gesturing vaguely, "is right? I've had more 'diagnoses' than I can count; what makes you right?"

Carlisle leaned forward and braced his forearms against his knees. "Honestly, I may not be, but I think that you have rapid cycling bipolar disorder. You can choose to believe me or not, but I would highly encourage that you at least try medication before you decide against it. Untreated, your symptoms will only get worse. If you start to feel better, more in control, then great – if not, we can reevaluate and decide together if you need to try something else, or if you should be taking medication at all. Is that agreeable to you?"

I gritted my teeth, glaring. "Yes."

"Alright," Carlisle reached for my hand and I let him take it; it was ice cold. "I'll write a prescription before I leave. Bella, because you are still a minor, I'll have to tell Charlie about this diagnosis – I won't tell him anything else without your permission, but he must know that you are on medication. If there are any side effects, or if you slip into a depressive or hypomanic episode while taking it, he will most likely be able to recognize it before you do and we can treat it before it gets bad."

I scowled. "Fine."

"Would you rather I tell Charlie, or you?"

"I don't know what I'd say to him – I don't really want to say anything." I felt a tinge of shame, mixing in with my frustration.

"That's fine. I'll call him today, alright? I can give the prescription to him to fill, too, if you'd rather not do it yourself. I know that this is probably really overwhelming for you right now."

"Fucking understatement of the year," I muttered, a tear escaping from the corner of my eye. I wiped it away hastily. "Yeah, just – just give it to him. I probably won't fill it myself if you give it to me," I told him honestly. "What about Edward?"

"What about him?"

"Are you going to tell me to stop seeing him?" I asked, dread filling me.

Carlisle smiled kindly. "I would never suggest that: he really cares for you – you make him happy and I can see that you feel the same way."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry that I got him involved in all this."

"Bella, you have nothing to apologize for." His voice was smooth, gentle like a balm. "What you've been feeling isn't within your control – it's not your fault. All I want is for you to do what is best for yourself – and for Edward to do the same."

"Still, I should have told you," I murmured.

"While, as a father, I would have liked to know who had enamored my son so thoroughly, you were doing what was best for you. You were in a tough position – I know that it couldn't have been easy, keeping our secret, working on recovery, and trying to balance your relationships with me and Edward. I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything with no fear of awkwardness or repercussions. If you would like to see another therapist because you feel uncomfortable, I completely understand and could provide you with a list of others in the area who you could see, as well."

"I don't want to see anyone else," I responded immediately. "I just don't want to make things awkward for you."

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I'm in this all the way, if you are."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Alright. Unfortunately, I have to get back to the hospital soon, but I will definitely see you Monday, okay?"

"Are you going to tell Edward?" I blurted, standing as he got up from the chair.

"That's for you to share, not me," Carlisle soothed.

Panic still lanced through me. "Won't he be able to hear it in your thoughts, though?"

Carlisle chuckled. "Edward's gift isn't quite omnipotence – I'm very good at segmenting my work and personal lives. He won't hear it from me, I can assure you. Maintaining the privacy of our sessions is very important to me. However," he advised, "I would recommend that you at least talk to him about what happened today. As confused as you are, as overwhelmed as you feel, he probably feels that too, right? Tell him however much you want, that is up to you, but I think it would make you feel better."

I walked with him downstairs and showed him out. As soon as I shut the door, I slid down to the floor, my back against it. "Fuck," I drawled out. "Fuck."

~o~

The rest of the day, honestly, wasn't much better. Charlie came home early, fussing in that awkward, distant way of his. Strangely, I didn't mind it; it felt nice to have someone – my father – take care of me.

Edward texted me that night, asking if he could come to see me. I thought back on Carlisle's words, his promise that our conversation would truly be private, but also his suggestion. I couldn't bring myself to do it, the day had been too much. I almost didn't text him back, but that haunted look on his face when he left swam back into my mind's eye and I sighed, reaching for my phone on the nightstand and feeling guilty for even thinking of leaving him hanging. I had told him to get the fuck out.

Not today. I managed. Ask me again tomorrow.

His response sent my heart fluttering. Whenever you're ready.

And Edward did ask me again the next day, just as I requested. Charlie had vacillated, already in his uniform, watching me from the door of my bedroom. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay home?"

I smiled weakly at him from my prone position on the bed. "I'll be fine, dad."

"I'll come home at lunch," he promised. Charlie lingered at the door, then shuffled inside, patting my foot over the blanket. "Bella, I know I don't say it much, but I love you."

I didn't quite know how to respond; tears welled up in my eyes. I blinked hastily, trying to hide it. "I love you too, dad."

Charlie cleared his throat. "I'll bring you some pie from the diner – coconut cream, right?"

I let out a watery laugh. "Thanks."

True to his word, Charlie reappeared at lunch with a small stack of takeaway boxes. I dragged myself downstairs to greet him, collapsing in my sweats on the couch and obediently taking the medication he gave me along with some soup.

"Stan's got it covered down at the station," Charlie said between bites, watching the football game on the TV.

I nodded, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch over my cold feet.

"I, uh, rented some movies," he said, glancing over at me. "I know it's Saturday night an all, and you probably have plans with friends, but would you humor your old man with a movie night?"

I snorted. "Dad, I don't have any plans."

Charlie nodded. "Well, I figured as much, but didn't want to assume," he grumbled into his burger.

I checked my phone as Charlie readied the first movie of the Star Wars franchise. Edward's text sat waiting. Can I come see you?

I wasn't really feeling up to it, the idea of having to explain myself exhausted me. Ask me again tomorrow.

I fell asleep on the couch next to Charlie sometime during the second movie, waking up as the credits scrolled on the screen. "Do you want some popcorn?" he called from the kitchen.

"Uh, sure," I answered, stretching and getting up to put in the next film.

There was something incredibly wholesome about the entire affair, Charlie sitting next to me, munching on a bowl of popcorn he'd placed between us. It was a strange feeling, just being co-present with him, and when he gently shook me awake, the windows dark, I felt a swelling of emotion that was almost foreign.

~o~

The next day passed like this, Charlie going out and bringing home pie again.

Can I come see you?

Ask me again tomorrow.

~o~

On Monday, Charlie let me stay home again, but volunteered to take me to my weekly meeting with Dr. Cullen. I didn't have the strength to argue that he shouldn't leave work early and I was, honestly, grateful that Charlie wasn't leaving me to my own devices. I wasn't sure I'd be able to take myself.

"How are you, Bella?" Carlisle greeted warmly when I entered his office and plopped down on couch.

I shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

Can I come see you?

Ask me again tomorrow.

~o~

More days passed. Charlie didn't push me to go to school, but came home for lunch each day and was home early for dinner without fail. We watched more movies, Charlie feeding me soups, sandwiches – some of which he actually made himself – and pie. He seemed to enjoy taking care of me – it was the first time anyone had really taken care of me in a long time.

"I'm going to get fat if you keep giving me pie," I joked, spooning more meringue into my mouth.

"Bella, you're so skinny that every time you turn sideways, I think you're gonna disappear. Pie is good for the soul, anyway."

We started watching another fantasy trilogy, which he had slipped out of a plastic bag he'd brought in with the pie. "I figured you were sick of sports," he said by way of explanation.

Can I come see you?

Ask me again tomorrow.

~o~

Finally, I managed to start showering in the morning, brushing my wet hair and pinning it out of my eyes. I did laundry. Charlie seemed pleased as he sat with me on Saturday, drinking his coffee.

Can I come see you?

Okay.

~o~

A knock drew my attention. Charlie frowned, put his empty coffee cup on the table, and went to the door.

I sat up straighter as I heard Edward's voice, leaning back in an attempt to spy the door down the hall. Charlie's hulking form blocked most of the door, but I saw Edward's shock of bronze hair.

"Hello, Edward," Charlie's voice was surprised and he tossed a glance at me over his shoulder. "Bella didn't mention you were coming over."

"Well, I wanted to bring over her schoolwork – there isn't much, but I thought she wouldn't want to deal with it when she felt well enough to come back." The lie – a half-truth, really – was effortless on his part. I could see a stack of books poking out from behind Charlie's arm.

Charlie hummed, unconvinced. "Thanks," he said, a little gruffly. I winced, getting up and hurrying to stand next to him.

Edward looked as great as ever, dressed in jeans and a respectable sweater over a collared shirt. The weather was milder than it had been, though still cloudy.

"Hi, Edward," I breathed, clearing my throat. "Uh, do you want to come in?"

Edward smiled as Charlie moved aside; I waved him into the kitchen. "You can put the books on the table," I called.

Charlie shut the door, his eyes on me. "Did you ask him to come by?"

I fidgeted under his gaze. "I told him he could drop by."

I started to turn away, but Charlie reached out to stop me. "If you want him to leave, I'll kick him out right now."

"Dad," I whispered, horrified. I knew Edward could hear us in the kitchen, was probably listening intently with amusement.

"Just thought I would put it out there," he replied in defense, his hands up and shoulders hunched. "Just give me a holler."

I most certainly wouldn't, but smiled weakly as he went back to the living room. I heard the TV switch to the sports channel.

Edward was sitting in one of the mismatched kitchen chairs, looking completely out of place in my kitchen. "Thanks for this," I said louder than I needed to. Although Charlie was doing his best to pretend he wasn't listening in, I knew better.

"Of course," Edward replied, his voice clear and smooth like velvet.

I lowered my voice to a whisper as I sat at the table next to him. I couldn't meet his eyes. "Thank you…for giving me time."

"Bella," he murmured, his fingers coming up to rest near mine, but he stopped just short of entwining them like I wanted him to. "I would give you anything – if you asked me to wait for a century, I would give it to you."

I chuckled nervously. "Well, I don't think I'll ever ask for that long." I stretched my fingers out slowly, the tips just brushing the edge of his chilly hand. "Can you forgive me?"

He let me weave my fingers with his, my eyes focused intently on the shape of his hand, the feel of it in mine. His nails were perfectly trimmed, utterly clean and rounded.

"There's nothing to forgive, Bella," he said lowly. I brought my eyes up to his, surprised by the sincerity there. "I just want you to be happy." He brought my hand up to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently.

I just stared at him, entranced by his golden eyes. I heard a throat clearing and looked up, startled. I withdrew my hand from Edwards, blushing so intensely I thought my ears might have turned red.

Charlie, for his part, looked just as embarrassed, but appeared to steel himself. "I'm just gonna get more coffee." He busied himself at the counter, taking way longer than he needed to. Finally, he shuffled out, but not before casting me a look over Edward's shoulder that let me know I'd have some explaining to do.

I sighed.

"Your dad wants to know how long we've been seeing each other," Edward whispered.

"Did you know he was about to come in?" I asked, slouching defeatedly back into my chair.

Edward's answering smile was enough of an answer. "He already suspected."

"Of course," I sighed, drumming my fingers on the table. "He's a cop, and a good one at that."

"Besides," Edward said, bringing my attention back to his face. He really was devastatingly beautiful. "I was wondering if you might want to meet my family this weekend. You can say no," he added quickly, watching my expression carefully. "But Esme would really like to meet you and she wanted me to invite you over."

I gazed at him, slightly torn. The thought of meeting Edward's family – officially, as whatever we were – made my stomach flip with both anxiety and excitement.

"Do you want me to come?" I asked.

His crooked grin broke across his face, dimpling his cheek. "Yes. If you are feeling up to it."

I nodded. "Okay. Okay." I laced my fingers through his. "I guess I'll have to tell Charlie."

Edward's thumb rubbed circles into the back on my hand. "What will you say to him?"

I realized that he was nervous, or well, as nervous as someone as self-assured and tuned-in as Edward could be. "Well, I don't think he will believe me if I tell him you are just my friend," I began with a smile. My hair flopped into my eyes as I looked down at our hands. His perfectly flawless skin, compared with mine, riddled with silvery scars. "And we're not really just friends, are we?"

Edward shook his head, tucking my hair back behind my ear. "I think it is safe to say that we are not just friends."

My cheeks burst into flames as I thought about last week, of him pressed against my naked body, his fingers trailing between us before he pulled himself away.

"Why are you blushing?" Edward asked, his brows knitting together.

"Don't make me say," I murmured, casting a glance back toward the living room where I was sure Charlie was trying to listen in.

"He is actually trying to give us a little privacy," Edward said, seeming to figure out the source of my discomfort despite the suborn silence my mind posed to him. "He figures there isn't much I can do sitting in your kitchen."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Edward's fingers trailed over my still hot face. "Will you tell me?" he whispered, his smooth voice low. He leaned closer, his eyes smoldering.

All thought left my mind. My heart stuttered, my head swam.

"Bella?"

I let out a haggard breath. "You can't do that," I muttered, looking down at the table. His fingers were still on my jaw, trailing up into my hair. "It's not fair."

"Do what?" he asked.

"Are you telling me that you have no idea how you affect me?" I whispered, incredulous.

He looked surprised, then devilish. "Are you saying that you… like me?" he grinned.

I scoffed. "I think that much is obvious." I thought back to his touch, his hands on my hips; I shook my head to clear it, my heart thudding. "After I basically pounced on you last week."

Edward stilled and I glanced at him, nervous that I had said something wrong. He wore an intense expression, his eyes molten gold.

"Edward? Did I say something?"

He let out a breath, composing his face back into a grin. But that intensity didn't leave his eyes; I squirmed beneath it. "I think the opposite is true."

"What?" I'd lost the thread of the conversation, distracted by the proximity of his lips.

"I'm the one who attacked you," he elaborated, conflicting emotions passing over his face.

"Uh, I don't think so," I told him lowly, careful to keep my voice quiet enough that it would be masked by the TV playing in the living room.

"You were vulnerable," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I took advantage –"

"Edward," I cut him off, tugging on his hand. "Trust me when I say that I wanted that just as much – probably more – than you."

He let out a chuckle. "I doubt that very much."

I wasn't brave enough to dare him to prove it. Not with my father sitting in the other room. "We're returning to this," I warned him. "Later."

Edward sighed. "If you insist."

"I do." I bit my lip, thinking. "What would you like me to tell Charlie about you?"

He smiled softly. "I'll let you lead, but, well, when I was growing up, normally we would have courted first, before… well, before," he finished lamely, looking embarrassed.

I blushed. "Courted?"

Edward blinked. "Yes."

"Is that what you would like me to tell Charlie?"

He smirked and chuckled lightly. "Maybe in less antiquated terms. If that is okay."

"So," I began, staring at him. "you would like me to tell Charlie that you're my – my boyfriend?" I stuttered.

"If that is amenable to you," he murmured. "That's what I would like to be to you, if you want."

I was nodding my head before he'd even finished speaking. "I would like that very much." His answering grin elated me. "And what about…meeting your family?" I asked.

"Well, you should tell him – maybe not that you are going to a house full of vampires," Edward amended, "but that I'm taking you to meet my parents."

"To give you a reason to bring me back?" I teased, remembering the last time he had made me tell Charlie where I was going, before I knew what he was.

"Something like that," he whispered conspiratorially.

"When will we go to meet them?" I asked, playing with his fingers.

He hummed. "I thought tomorrow afternoon. It will be sunny in the morning."

His complete non-sequitur peaked my curiosity. "Are you referring to what happens to you in the sun?"

He nodded. "I thought perhaps you might…need to see it."

"Why would I need to see it?"

He ran a hand through his hair, before muttering, "To give you one last opportunity to flee."

"Not going to happen," I replied quickly, tugging on his hand.

He flashed me a weak smile. "Charlie is going to come in to check on us in a minute."

I let go of his hand – just because I was going to tell Charlie we were dating didn't mean I was going to willingly let him see PDA – and leaned back in my chair as I heard Charlie padding up the hallway.

Edward stood smoothly, smiling at me. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Bella?"

I could have kicked him. "Yeah, sure," I answered as Charlie appeared in the entryway. "What time?"

Edward pretended to look thoughtful. I had to assume that he had a specific time in mind, if it was going to be sunny in the morning. "Would nine be okay?"

I nodded. "Sure."

Edward turned to Charlie, acting as if he hadn't expected Charlie would emerge at that moment. "My parents are expecting me for lunch – I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow, Bella. It was nice to see you again, Chief Swan."

Charlie looked mollified by Edward's formality. "You too, Edward."

I got up to walk Edward to the door, conscious of Charlie's eyes on my back. Whispering as low as I could, leaning against the door as Edward stood on the porch, I asked, "Will you come see me tonight?"

Edward smiled. "Of course."

"Bye, Edward," I called, waving for Charlie's sake. I watched Edward get into his car, then shut the door.

When I turned, Charlie was looking at me expectantly. "So, you're seeing him tomorrow?" His gruff voice was oddly uninflected.

I sighed. "Edward would like me to meet his parents."

Charlie frowned as I passed him, heading for the living room. I plopped onto the couch, pulling a blanket up over my folded legs. He stood awkwardly at the end of the armrest. "You said you were just friends," he accused, although there was a gentle undertone to his voice.

"We were," I began, steeling myself. "But, uh, we're dating now."

"And how long has that been going on?"

"Can you sit down?" I responded, gesturing to his end of the couch. "Your hovering is making me nervous." When he obliged, sitting stiffly, I answered, "Not that long. Just a couple weeks. It just kind of happened."

Charlie sipped his coffee slowly. "Kinda quick to be meeting his folks," he commented. "He seems to really like you."

I flushed. "Uh, yeah. Well, we've know each other for a couple months, right?"

"And you – you're happy, Bella?" he asked awkwardly, looking at me sidelong.

I nodded. "He's kind. And thoughtful."

"I can see that," Charlie muttered, glancing back at the kitchen, clearly thinking of the ruse Edward had used to see me. "Just be careful, Bella. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You don't have to worry about that," I answered automatically.

"I'm your father – I think I'll always worry about that," Charlie said, changing the channel on the TV so our paused movie was back on the screen. He settled back more comfortably on the couch. "Wanna keep watching this?"

I grinned; Charlie blinked, looking surprised by my enthusiasm. "I know you are dying to see Legolas stare longingly into the distance."

~o~

I went to bed early, eager to see Edward again and pleading exhaustion. Charlie eyed me suspiciously, but let me go without much argument.

I showered, making sure that Charlie heard me getting ready for bed. I pinned my hair back from my face, putting on an oversized shirt that used to be Charlie's and a pair of pajama shorts and fuzzy socks, climbing into bed.

I read a book, waiting for Edward to show up at my window, but he seemed to be waiting for Charlie to do something. Charlie peaked in through my door, as if checking that I was in fact in my pajamas.

"Night, dad," I said, leaning back more comfortably on my pillows.

"Night, Bells," he said, shutting my door softly. I heard him thump down the stairs and the low sounds of the TV as he turned on a game.

I almost jumped as a white hand appeared at my window, sliding it up, Edward appearing a second later. He shut it against the cold wind, smiling. "Hello."

"Hi," I whispered, shifting over and patting my bed. Edward hesitated a moment, then perched on the end by my feet.

"Charlie thinks you might sneak out," Edward said, nodding his head toward the door. "He wasn't convinced by your story about being tired. He's going to come check on you again in a bit."

I closed my book, flicking the lamp off and sliding down into my sheets. "Best not let him wonder, then," I said. Edward didn't move. "Come here, Edward."

At my bidding, he slipped his shoes off, reclining next to me, careful to keep a respectable space between us. I huffed and rolled my eyes, poking him.

"What?" he asked innocently, his prone form on top of my quilt.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," I replied, trying to pull the comforter down.

"You'll be cold," he protested, turning on his side to face me but not helping me pull down the covers.

"I don't care," I told him.

He sighed. "I care." His fingers caressed my shoulder, floating down my arm in a way that sent pangs of electricity through me. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'd be more comfortable in your arms," I quipped, but stopped fighting, curling up on my side to face him. Edward's fingers trailed through my hair, skipping over the pins and coming around to my face. I leaned against his cool palm, breathing in his sweet, honeyed lilac scent from his wrist.

"I want to tell you what happened last week," I whispered. "But I'm afraid."

"Why?" he breathed, his fingers coasting down my arm, entwining with mine.

"I'm afraid that you'll realize how fucked up I am," I murmured lowly, closing my eyes.

"You're not fucked up, Bella," he sighed against the back of my hand, kissing it lightly. "You're going through some real shit, and that is nothing to be ashamed about. You didn't run screaming when I told you that I drink blood – why would I leave you when you need me most?"

He was right, of course, but it didn't make it any easier to confess. When I was done explaining everything, he laid next to me for a long time. In the faint light of the window, I could just see the outline of his face, deep in thought. His fingers trailed up and down my palm, tracing the lifeline and circling over the inside of my wrist. I waited for him to say something, anything.

"Bella," he breathed, his golden eyes glinting in the moonlight. "You are the bravest person I know."

Hot tears pricked at my eyes. I blinked rapidly, turning my face into my pillow to hid them, unsuccessfully. He caught a tear with a finger, bringing it to his mouth. I watched as the shadow of his tongue flicked out hesitantly, tasting it. He brought his hand back to my face, gently stroking my hair back.

"You're not going to run?" I muttered into my pillow, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on my scalp.

"Never," he promised, his cool breath ghosting along my temple as his pressed his lips against it. I sighed. "But Charlie is about to come up to check if you are asleep."

He disappeared. "Edward?" I whispered, sitting up. My room seemed empty, even though I knew he must still be here. Even his shoes had disappeared from the foot of my bed.

I heard the creak of the stairs outside my door.

I flopped back quickly, laying on my stomach and breathing shallowly. I closed my eyes just as the door cracked open, doing my best to feign sleep.

Charlie paused for a beat, then the door clicked shut again. I heard the indistinct sounds of him in the bathroom, the water running. I didn't move, my heart thumping. The light under my door switched off, then I heard Charlie's bedroom door thud woodenly.

I felt the bed decompress by my hip. I flipped over; Edward's face was lit ghostly white in the soft light. "Did I convince him?" I whispered.

"Yes," Edward replied, just as soft. He laid next to me, resting his head on my pillow and closing his eyes.

I studied him in the dim light, running my fingers through his hair. He did a good impression of sleep. I leaned forward, closing the few inches between us, and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him smile, rather than saw it, his golden eyes fluttering open as I pulled away. "Can I go back to convincing you that you aren't taking advantage of me?" I brought my hand to his chest, then up over his shoulder. My breath hitched as I gazed at him and I couldn't help myself as I pushed closer to him.

Edward chuckled. "Not a chance."

I buried my head in the crook of his neck in frustration as he chuckled lowly. The sound reverberated in his chest. "Not even a little?" I said into his sweater.

He kissed my cheek chastely. "You should go to sleep, Bella."

"I don't want to," I told him as I kissed his lips, my fingers weaving into his hair. "I want to kiss my boyfriend."

He sighed, rolling onto his back. I followed, leaning over his chest. "How can I deny you," he murmured as I kissed his jaw.

"Exactly," I replied, my hand cupping his cheek. His lips moved with mine this time, one hand gently placed on my hip, the other cradling my neck. I was mindful this time of his control, careful not to overstep or kiss him too passionately because I didn't want him flying across the room again.

He broke away, kissing along my jaw. "What are you doing to me, Bella?" he moaned into my ear. I shivered, my heart beating a quick staccato at the silky sound of his voice, the cool flow of his breath by my ear.

I turned to meet his lips, but he pulled back, his eyes dark. "It's late, Bella," he said. "Go to sleep."

"Will you stay?" I asked, leaning back.

"All night if you want me to," Edward replied, pressing one more kiss to my lips.

"Okay," I sighed, unable to help the yawn that left me. "Good night, Edward."

I settled against his side; his arm wrapped protectively around me. "Good night, Bella. Have sweet dreams."

~o~

I woke up the next morning with Edward perched in my desk chair, watching me amusedly as I rolled over and stretched. I brought my hands up to my hair, attempting to smooth down what must be horrific bedhead.

"I need a human minute," I finally muttered, sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. "Will you still be here when I get back?"

He nodded, smiling. "Of course."

I hurriedly brushed my teeth, slicking my hair down with water and washing my face. Charlie was downstairs, clattering around in the kitchen. When I returned to my room, shutting the door softly, Edward was exactly where I had left him. The clock on my nightstand indicated he had an hour before he was supposed to pick me up. "Do you have to go soon?" He was still in the same clothes as yesterday, his shirt slightly rumpled.

"Yes," he sighed, picking up my hand in his and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I blushed. "But I wanted to stay until you woke up." He stood, wrapping me in his arms.

He smelled wonderful. I buried my nose in the crook of his neck. "I'll be back soon," he whispered into my hair, pressing his lips to my forehead.

"Okay," I breathed, watching as he lifted the window open. Then he was gone.

I got dressed, heading downstairs to eat something before Edward came back to pick me up. Charlie was at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. When I joined him at the table, he set it down, watching me eat and taking a slow sip from his coffee. His brown eyes flittered to the clock on the stove. "So, when will Edward be here?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Nine," I replied.

I was rinsing out my bowl in the sink when I heard him knock on the door. Charlie was fastest, standing up and going to the door while I hastily dried my hands. It was two minutes to nine.

"Good morning, Chief Swan," Edward chimed brightly, dressed in a fresh blue sweater. It was still cloudy outside, but I had to assume that Edward was right that it would be sunny later. I grabbed my boots, lacing them up as quickly as I could on the stairs.

"Good morning, Edward," Charlie said coolly. "Bella says she is meeting your parents today?"

I saw Edward nod. "Yes, sir."

Charlie's cool exterior melted slightly – damn, he was slick. "Well, let Carlisle and Esme know I said hello. When will you be back?"

Edward grinned. "I will, sir. It's supposed to be nice later and I thought that, if Bella had no objections, she might come with us to play baseball."

My mouth fell open as Charlie let out a laugh. "Good luck with that," he chuckled, glancing back at me. I glared. Charlie held up his hands quickly. "I didn't think you were the sporting type, Bells."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, dad," I groaned, standing and grabbing my coat, and tucked my light scarf securely around my neck. It didn't help my case when I tripped on a floorboard, catching myself before either Charlie or Edward could reach out. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I reassured, my cheeks flaming.

"Well, don't stay out too late," Charlie called as I passed him, waving as I hopped down the porch steps. I could feel his eyes on us as Edward walked me over to the passenger's side, opening my door for me. I buckled up as Edward rounded the car, waving to Charlie, and got in.

"Baseball?" I asked in disbelief once he was in his seat.

Edward buckled in, turning the ignition and making a show of checking his mirrors before backing out of the driveway. I lifted a hand to Charlie, who grimaced and waved back as he watched us roll down the road at a very reasonable ten miles an hour.

Edward shrugged, speeding up once we were out of sight. "Sure – it's the American pastime."

"Vampires play baseball?" I pressed as he drove us onto the highway.

"Only when the weather is bad," Edward grinned, accelerating.

"I thought you said it was going to be sunny today," I said in confusion, looking at him.

"It'll be sunny this morning, and then Alice says a thunderstorm will roll into town."

I shook my head, confused. "Why does there need to be a storm for you to play baseball? Won't you get wet?"

Edward laughed. "We'll play away from town – you'll see why, if you want to come along."

"Of course," I agreed hastily. I realized we were driving in the direction that he had taken me when we went to his meadow. "Wait, aren't we going to meet your parents? Or are we doing that later?" I added.

"Well, you said you wanted to see me in the sunlight – I thought we might do that first before we see them. They are out hunting, anyway, but they'll be back this afternoon."

"Oh, okay," I sighed, leaning back in my seat.

~o~

Thankfully, he didn't make me hike the couple miles to the meadow again, but the alternative set my stomach flipping uncomfortably as he set me down among the tall grass. I had to grip his arm tightly as I recovered my bearings.

"You weren't kidding," I managed, taking a deep breath. His hair was wild from the wind, his eyes bright with delight. "You can run fast."

"Are you okay," he asked as he steadied me.

"I'll be fine," I breathed, leaning into him. "Just give me a moment – that was a lot for my human brain to process."

We were at the edge of the meadow, whose flowers seemed to have turned over. Instead of pastels, brighter reds and whites where interspersed with the grass, the occasional yellow peppering the greenery. It smelled just as fresh and floral as the last time. I let go of him, walking out into the meadow, smiling, as I dropped my coat onto a fallen tree. The shadows deepened as the sun glinted out from behind a cloud – I looked up at the rare blue and white sky.

I expected him to be beside me when I turned, but he was still under the shadow of a tall tree, watching me warily. I beckoned to him before I remembered the sun.

"No flames, right?" I verified.

He shook his head. The light intensified suddenly, and I had to blink a few times while my eyes adjusted.

"Are you afraid of what I'll think?" I asked, remembering his words from yesterday.

He sighed. "I'm afraid this might be the thing that finally puts you over the edge – I don't know why, since not sleeping, bloodlust, and incredible speed and strength didn't do it. But something has to."

I shook my head, taking a step back toward him. "No," I whispered, coming back to him. "Show me."

He let me take his hand in mine and I walked backward, careful not to fall, as I pulled him out into the light.

It was dazzling. I dropped his hand, gasping, as he almost appeared to burst into white flame. I blinked, reaching for him, as I realized that it wasn't flames– he was glittering. Like his skin was made of thousands of diamonds, he shimmered in the intense sunlight, his hair painted reddish gold like a crown of fire in the refracted light.

He watched me carefully as I marveled. "You're not screaming," he said dryly.

I swallowed, blinking again as I picked up his hand in mine, examining it. As I rotated it around, his skin cast flashing, shining rainbows across my arms and chest, through the grasses and flowers.

"Say something," he begged.

I brought my gaze to his, whispering breathily, "You are beautiful."

He pulled back, chuckling darkly. "Normal people would be repulsed."

"Well, then I don't want to be normal," I retorted, stepping closer. He backed up a step, but I pressed forward, putting my hand on his cheek. He leaned into my palm, closing his eyes. They sparkled with a pale lavender glint; my heart thudded. "Normal is so clearly overrated." I leaned up on my toes, angling my face up towards his. He let me pull him down to meet my lips.

I closed my eyes, exulting in the feeling of his cool lips on mine, his silky hair between my fingers. His arms wrapped around me, holding me gently to him.

Edward pulled me into the center of the meadow, graciously acquiescing to my request to see more of his skin. He took off his sweater, unbothered by the light nip in the air, and rolled up his sleeves. I sat next to him and just stared, tracing my fingers lightly along his shimmering skin.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but when the sun eventually moved back behind a cloud, my foot was asleep. I laid next to him, twisting onto my side. "You really thought I would run screaming?"

"Well, one could hope a rational part of you might have realized exactly how not human I am and run for safety."

"You say that as if I care."

"I wish you did," he sighed, rolling over and propping himself up. "Sometimes, I don't think you realize what danger I am putting you in just by being around you."

I couldn't stand the guilty look on his face. "Edward, I know you wouldn't hurt me. I think you know that, too."

"I would never mean to hurt you," he countered, his golden eyes piercing. "But that doesn't mean that I couldn't accidentally." He picked up my hand, cradling it gently. "It would only take touching you too firmly, a flick of my wrist, really, to accidently crush your hand." He opened his fingers, letting my hand rest with my palm against his.

I sighed. "I'm not going to pretend that the thought isn't terrifying –"

"Finally," Edward muttered.

"– but," I continued, "I trust you. I want to be with you. If that means we have to be careful, then so be it."

Edward shook his head. "So there really is no chance of scaring you off."

"Nope," I replied. "You are not as scary as you think, Edward."

A devilish smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, really?"

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, Edward crouched above me. He leaned down, his sweet breath washing over my face. I breathed heavily, unable to think clearly with his lips this close to mine, his smoldering gaze pinning me in place. His arms came to rest on either side of my head as he lowered himself closer.

His lips came up to my ear as he breathed, "Your heart is racing."

I let out a strangled breath. "Yes."

His lips trailed gentle kisses down my neck. His hair tickled my jaw. He moved my sweater aside an inch to place his lips on my collarbone, murmuring silkily, "Are you afraid?"

"No," I gasped, my abdomen tightening, my legs pressing together as he kissed up the other side of my neck. "I'm not."

He pulled back, his face inches from mine. He seemed to be enjoying my utter inability to form coherent sentences.

My hands moved of their own accord, sliding around his neck and trying to pull him to me. It was like trying to move a statue. But he eventually lowered his face to mine, restrained, his molten eyes gleaming in the light.

I inhaled the scent of him as his lips met mine, mingled with fresh grass and pine. My hand fisted in his hair, my body arching up. I felt his chest rumble lowly against my own and he released me, sitting back, his eyes dark.

He breathed deeply, resting his arms on his knees. "You'll be the death of me, Bella Swan," he moaned, running a hand through his hair.

I grinned sheepishly. "I can't help it, when you look so dashing."

Edward laughed. "Come on," he said, standing and helping me up. He gathered his sweater and my jacket, helping me slide it on and adjusting my scarf tenderly. "Let's go meet my family. Alice will be jumping for joy already."

My stomach flipped.

"Oh, now you're afraid," he chided, taking in my expression and kneeling down.

"Not afraid," I said, climbing up on his back. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, my heart skipping a beat as his hands pulled my thighs around his waist. "Worried, maybe, that they won't like me."

Edward shook his head, glancing back it me. "Unbelievable."