A/N for 2020-11-13: Congratulations on making it through a Friday the 13th in 2020. Not a small accomplishment!

As always, massive thanks to the amazing betas Chayasara and Eeyorefan12.

- Erin


Despite Edward's assurances that their cover story would hold up to Charlie-level scrutiny, Bella's stomach twisted as her father read the information about the New York clinic which Edward had provided. Sitting at the kitchen table, Charlie was currently on page two, his toast in one hand, the letter outlining fees and scheduling options in the other. He lowered both. "This is, um . . . Can we look at something closer to home?"

"It's a really good place, Dad." She knew it must be. Not only had Edward assured her of this, but she also had no doubt that his Cullen sensibilities prevented him from picking anything less than the best.

His eyebrows lifted. "Yeah, for those prices, it should be. I can look into my benefits—"

She shook her head. "You won't need to."

"I won't need to?" He peered at her over the paper, raising his eyebrows.

"Edward's family—"

"Edward's family." A look of resignation appeared on his face. "I see."

"They feel . . . obliged to help after I . . . helped Edward."

Charlie pressed his palm over the letter, now flat on the table. "Is this what you want?" His voice was very soft.

She nodded.

"You know you don't need my permission, Bells."

"I know." She knew the decision was hers, but she hated lying to him. Her hands tightened around the cup in her hands. She briefly settled her gaze on the coffee inside it.

"Do what you need to do if you think it's going to help you—"

"I do." She cleared her throat, trying to hide the fact that she'd been nervous enough to interrupt him. "But I value your opinion too." His goodwill meant he was less likely to grow suspicious later on.

"Then you have my blessing." He looked so sad saying it, and though she was glad she had his approval, she wished it would bring him some small measure of happiness. This was the beginning of a goodbye he didn't even know was happening. Barring some sort of miracle, she would never see him again.

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Soon she'd be leaving and not returning, and while she was relieved to know she wasn't leaving to become like the Volturi, the loathsome creatures she despised, there was no absence of grief in the decision she was making.

- 0 -

"New York will be very warm," Edward said. He sat by her desk, hands clasped together between his knees as Bella pondered the contents of her closet. "And humid too."

Heat didn't bother her. If anything, she looked forward to being warm. Humidity though, she could do without. "What else will New York be, Mr. Well-Travelled?"

Edward smiled sheepishly and dropped his gaze to his lap. He wasn't shy about what he'd experienced and what he knew from said experience, but she understood that he didn't like to show off in either respect. She loved to hear about his many past decades of life, and she was sure that city had featured in them at least several times.

"Very colourful. Very vibrant." His voice was soft.

"Hmm." There was so much more she wanted to hear, but she didn't want to push him either. He'd tell her in his own good time.

"So aside from pretending to be in treatment for my fake Xanax addiction, what else can we do to pass the time in New York?" She plopped both herself and a stack of hangered shirts on the bed beside her underwear and socks, peeking over at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think he'd want to watch her sort through her underclothing, and when she glanced his way, saw she was right. However, she could watch him with impunity. As always, it was one of her favorite things to do.

"There's so much music." Edward was looking out the window now, and by the look of his faraway gaze, his memory was adrift.

"What kind's your favourite?" She tucked a stack of bras into the corner of her suitcase.

"Jazz."

Of course. Her man was a product of his time. "I wouldn't mind catching a show or two in the city."

Edward stood and stretched slowly, the action causing his shirt to lift and show a sliver of skin.

Bella stopped and stared, mildly stunned as she always was when his physique was displayed—which was rare. A small thought tingled in the back of her mind—this movement was intentional. Vampires didn't need to stretch. He was doing this to distract her from the topic at hand.

She kept staring as he approached and sat beside her on the bed.

It was a bold move for him to slide his hand under hers even though they'd been working their way back to careful touching after her setback from Demetri's visit. "I look forward to showing you a great deal of New York." He leaned forward. "Shows, music, art, gardens, its history. The food is amazing—or so I'm told."

Bella blinked at his approaching face, inching towards hers. She sucked in a breath that her brain had neglected to tell her to take until this moment.

"So many things I want to share with you." His lips were less than a hair's breadth away, and then they weren't as they brushed her jaw.

She exhaled as sharply as she'd inhaled, closing her eyes. Oh my God. This felt so good. So, so good.

His hand curled around hers, fingers closing over the top of her own. His lips still only brushed against her jaw like air. She couldn't move, she was so frozen with the pleasure of his teasing touch. The sensation travelled along her jawbone, up to her ear, and down the side of her neck in the form of a delicious shiver.

Part of her mind thought they'd be lucky to see the outside of their hotel room once they were in New York, given what he was doing to her now. Given what she wanted him to keep doing.

She risked placing a hand at the small of his back, watching as he closed his eyes, a tiny hum escaping his lips.

This time, her body tensed, not in fear but because she wasn't sure of the sound he'd made. A good sound? A sound that meant she'd touched too much?

His lips meeting hers was her answer. Though cool, they seemed to elicit warmth in her every extremity, drawing it all in his direction. Yes. So right. The heat kept growing, blossoming and blooming in her arms, her legs, her thighs, her centre—all of it flowing to Edward through her lips and hand.

It felt like two notes being played, trembling in unison, rhythm and harmony joined. The thought would have made her smile if her lips weren't so occupied by Edward's

Together they were a song that she was almost ready to sing.

- 0 -

Walking into the lobby of the hotel, the starkly striped floor made Bella's head spin and not from anything related to her precarious health.

"Whoa," Jacob said, giving voice to her own thoughts. "You don't travel cheap, do you?" These words were for Edward, who smiled politely back at him before stepping towards the reception desk to check in. It wasn't Jake's first such commentary on this trip. Never having been on a plane, let alone a commercial airliner before, he had looked similarly out of his element in the first class cabin on the flight to New York.

Bella hung back a little, letting her gaze take in the space. Yes, expensive and beautiful too. The decor was stunning though she hoped the rooms were more sedately decorated. The bold stripes on the floor made her head hurt.

Turning back to them, Edward handed each of them a key card. "We're in the penthouse—"

"Of course you are," Jacob muttered.

Edward appeared to fight a smile as he continued speaking, politely ignoring Jacob's comment. "And you're in a suite on the 14th floor. It's quite . . . roomy."

Edward wasn't joking. They stopped at Jacob's room first so that Bella knew where he was. She could hear his "Holy shit!" from behind the closed door once they had stepped back into the hall.

She smiled, walking beside Edward as they headed to the elevator. "Will he be okay? Should we make sure he can find everything? We wouldn't want him to get lost or anything," she said, teasing.

Edward chuckled. "Provided the bidet doesn't confuse him, I think he can figure it all out, but I can . . . check in later." He looked a little uncomfortable as he said this, and she understood why right away. It wasn't in his nature to want to "keep tabs" on someone that way, but it wasn't as if he wouldn't be able to hear Jake's thoughts at this distance whether he wanted to or not. Bella wondered how that was going for him but decided not to ask yet.

He stepped into the elevator behind her. "We're on the top floor," he murmured as he pushed in his key card. "There's a nice view of the park."

"Have you stayed here before?" Bella asked.

"Not for a long time." Edward shrugged.

Bella couldn't help noting thinking that his response seemed evasive. Perhaps he was teasing her? "How long is a long time?"

"Since it was new." She expected to see a playful glint in his eyes, but she saw something like regret making them gloss over. Why would he—?

Oh. The age of the hotel was apparent in its design, and that would line up with his . . . rebellious period, as he had once put it.

"Why here," she asked, "if the memories aren't happy ones?"

The elevator door opened. Edward moved their bags into the small foyer, unlocking the door with his keycard. Momentarily, Bella was distracted by the space that greeted them. Vaulted ceilings were pierced with several chandeliers, and the main room stretched out before them. Tall windows framed a cloudy view of Central Park.

"Wow," she mouthed.

"Sometimes it's nice to make better memories in a place, and I can't think of anyone else I'd like to make them with." He smiled. "Its price also serves as a deterrent to large crowds. It's by the park, and I thought you'd like the view, but there are other ho—"

"No, no. It's great." She briefly squeezed his hand, letting it go. He didn't return the pressure, but she knew he wanted to. That much was apparent in his gaze.

"You have your pick of several beds." He grinned at her. "Or you can try all of them."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. Though it was lovely, it was stupidly ostentatious too. Abruptly, a somewhat sobering thought struck her. "Wait. Edward, it's not all going to be like . . . this, right? I don't need . . . " While she'd learned to be more accepting of gifts, the thought of being the beneficiary of so much lavish spending made her uneasy. She wondered if it would for Jacob, too.

"You don't need . . . ?"

"So much." She waved her hand, indicating the space. "I mean, I know we're only here for a while, and I'm glad you picked this for reasons besides me, but I'm not—"

"Spoiled? A princess? In it for the money?" There was that twinkle in his eye she'd been hoping to see.

Damn. He knew what he was doing.

"Yeah." Her cheeks felt hot.

The playful expression faded, replaced by a much more serious one. "I had more than one reason for choosing this hotel but mainly I want you to feel comfortable and safe. I was also seeking a degree of seclusion that would be difficult to find in the less exclusive hotels here. I've made some plans for after New York but I'd like to wait until we're assured of our privacy to discuss it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or Jacob either, but I really think this is the best option for this part of our trip." He brushed a hair away from her face without touching her skin.

"Okay." Her breathing hitched. He was so close. They were alone. She felt stupid with that awe that seemed to accompany such situations. She wanted things she couldn't quite figure out how to make her body comfortable with.

A sharp ringing made her jump.

"Sorry," Edward said. "That'll be the clinic." He looked in the direction of the sound. Bella couldn't find the source, but Edward moved towards it, his businesslike tone when he answered the phone sounding so much more mature than his supposed seventeen years of humanity should allow.

Pulling up the handle of her suitcase, Bella wheeled it towards the hallway to her left. Several rooms branched off the space, and she headed towards the one at the end.

Jacob's reaction to his room would have been suitable in application to this one, too. Bright and airy, the bedroom featured a king-sized bed, several chairs, and a bathroom that would easily contain her bedroom and tiny bathroom from Forks together. Both the bedroom and bathroom had a view of the park. She unpacked her things, most of which fit into two of the dresser's smaller drawers. Her little toiletries kit was dwarfed in the en suite.

"Nice choice," Edward said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hmm," Bella acknowledged. "Was that the clinic? What did they want?"

"They were just confirming your appointment at ten tomorrow."

What? "I thought that was just for . . . show." She spoke uncertainly. Her registration had been necessary to cement this ruse, but—

Edward's head tilted and he glanced to his right, as clear a communication of his uncertainty as she'd ever seen. "I thought . . ." He clamped his mouth shut and stuffed his hands into his pockets. When he looked at her again, he said, "I may have presumed too much. I thought what the clinic offered would be . . . helpful. Of course, it's entirely your choice."

Bella stared at him, blinking hard and wondering how they'd managed to find themselves with such different assumptions. She supposed that was the key word there, assumptions.

Edward seemed to be thinking the same thing. "I'm sorry, Bella. This is my error. I assumed—"

"Me too. It's okay."

"Is it?" He pulled his hands out of his pockets, shoving back the sleeves of his shirt, now unbuttoned at the cuffs. He bunched the fabric to his elbows. She watched the muscles and tendons tighten in his forearms, and against her will, her body recoiled ever so slightly.

She wasn't sure what he was asking. Was it okay that he'd assumed? That he'd thought she would go through with the treatment? That he was displaying a tiny portion of his physical strength in what was usually the most innocent of his practiced human gestures?

"Bella?"

He would not have missed her physical reaction. Now her forehead was wrinkled in concentration. She paused, considering his first suggestion.

"They offer the best therapy for complex trauma there is." He spoke very quietly, his hands now hidden again in his pockets. He leaned against the wall, a gesture meant to put her at ease, she knew.

Given the research she'd done on the centre, she was sure he was right and that they did have a reputation for such treatment..She'd just assumed that her being on their patient list was part of the cover she, Edward, and Jacob needed to establish. After completing her supposed treatment there, Bella would register for courses at a college upstate, letting Charlie think she'd decided to stay to study. In reality, they'd be miles away by then though. Jake's fake sports scholarship at a nearby prep school would buy him time in Charlie's eyes, too.

"Do you not feel that you would benefit from counseling?" At odds with his relaxed body, Edward's face was tense now.

"No, I think I could, I just . . ."

"It would only be for a few weeks." He so clearly wanted this for her. The thought made her muscles stiffen. Why? She tried to dig under her reaction, but she bristled with unexpected hostility. His desire for this treatment and the subtle pressure she felt as a result made her think of . . . Demetri.

She shuddered.

"Is there a reason you wouldn't want to try it?"

He was being so patient with her, but there were some real reasons to worry beyond her other inexplicable and surprising feelings. She cleared her throat. "I thought you'd be worried about my saying the wrong thing, or someone having questions about my physical symptoms."

"Not at all. One Dr. Carlisle Cullen of Washington State is supervising your medical care. At least he's signing off on your medical care while you're here." Edward wiggled his fingers, indicating he would be doing the physical signing. "You would only be working with the staff for mental health services, and any treatment plan would be based only on your specific needs and . . . experiences."

"Of course." The powerful and confusing emotions continued to swirl in her midsection. She could only think of how good it would be to be free of them. Perhaps this could help? And Edward was asking her. Trying to persuade her a bit, but still, he was only asking. It was her choice, and she knew it. More importantly, he was making it clear that he knew it too. Trying to shake off the stiffness in her shoulders and the feelings of resentment that seemed to bring it on, Bella pushed out, "Yes. I think it might help. I'll go."

His entire body seemed to melt into relaxation, his jaw and shoulders first and then his forearms. He was relieved. Her gut clenched with guilt. She'd made him worry. Here he was, trying so hard to help, to provide the opportunity to get better, and she'd only made him worry. God, she had so much to learn still.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "You needn't be."

She didn't agree and forced herself to move forward and stand within arm's reach, holding out her hand. Their fingers brushed, and she let her arm fall back to her side. "I'm still learning how to accept help when I need it, it seems."

He smiled almost apologetically.

She thought of all the hurdles that had come between her and recovery in more than the physical sense. How good it would be to be able to regain the ability to be as physically comfortable with Edward as they once had been. How she wanted that.

- 0 -

Bella was sure she'd seen the start of the movie she'd picked to watch with Edward, but when she woke up, couldn't remember seeing much of it. They'd been in New York for almost three weeks, and though her body was still tired much of the time, she was feeling much better emotionally. The daily counseling sessions had been remarkably helpful already, providing tools to use in altering her reactions to difficult situations and helping to guide her in her emotional responses. Despite her fear of saying or doing something that would create suspicion, she found the therapists exceedingly skilled and nonjudgmental when drawing her out but only eliciting as many of her experiences as she was willing to share in order to shape her treatment plan.

Her afternoon together with her companions had exhausted her though. Determined to show her the city, even though Jacob had to tag along, Edward had taken them on regular and wonderful adventures to museums, shows, and bookstores; there had even been two or three neighborhood walks. Although the two men were probably never going to be what could be described as friends, Edward was a gracious tour guide who made a point of including both Jake and Bella in their group decisions. For his part, Jacob was unfailingly polite and seemed to appreciate Edward's low-key generosity. But while Bella had not lacked for entertainment, and she'd enjoyed seeing Jake's wide-eyed introduction to so many new things, she wished her body would catch up with her desire to be so adventurous.

"I'm so sorry," she said, sitting up slightly and rubbing her hands over her eyes. She was resting partly on the couch and partly on Edward, objects soft and hard.

"For what?" Edward asked.

"I picked a movie that I slept through. Talk about rude."

Edward shrugged. "You may have figured this out already, but I'm not here for the movies."

She chuckled. "The thought may have crossed my mind."

His laughter made her body rumble along with his. It felt nice. Leaning against him, she pushed herself up to kneel on the couch cushions, a wave of dizziness promptly making her lose her balance. As she tipped over into the slight depression his body made, his arms steadied her, and she brought one knee over his legs to straddle his lap.

Immediately realizing just how compromising a position she was in, her "Sorry" was muttered with regret smeared all over it.

As she went to pull away, Edward's hands settled on her back. "I'm fine if you're fine."

Her gaze snapped to his face. His eyes were a noticeable shade darker.

He was fine?

His fingers massaged her back gently, his palms cupping her waist. His gaze did not leave hers. "Are you okay?"

She had to think about her answer. As she'd been taught to, she let her awareness sink from her mind and travel down her body where it assessed her breathing, the subtle and pleasurable shiver in her skin, and then the heat that pooled pleasantly in her lower abdomen.

She was quite a bit more than okay.

"I feel good." Leaning forward, her lips met his, soft against hard, a sweet kiss. The movement made her aware of something else unusually hardened between them.

Oh.

Her second "Sorry" in so many minutes was quiet.

Again, his grip tightened only slightly but enough to prevent her from bolting. "Please don't apologize."He leaned forward to kiss her again.

She let her muscles relax. It felt so good, kissing him like this. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his hair. "Mmm." So soft.

He groaned beneath her, his eyes closing.

The realization hit her, almost dispelling the shallow breath she'd just taken. She was giving him pleasure. She was pleasuring him.

She began teasing his hair with one finger at a time, stroking a trail back from the crown of his head down to his neck. As her torso shifted slightly, it brought together again other parts of their bodies much more sensitive than hands and hair. His hips moved ever so slightly in conjunction with hers.

Yes, he wanted this.

She wanted this.

She traced new patterns over his head and neck, feathering a teasing touch over his shoulders. The sound of his pleasured sighs spurred her to shift her weight again, and once more, a deep moan matched her own.

This felt so good.

Their kisses came closer together, the rocking of their hips more rhythmic. Her hands continued to play a deliberate yet improvised melody over his back, his hips, his legs.

Her breathing was more ragged. She was very close to a sensation she hadn't chased in a long time and never with him. As it came closer, she pulled away, arching her back, face to the ceiling so that Edward's hands shifted, one cradling her back, the other cupping and teasing her breast.

She toppled over the edge of sensation, awareness crumbling with her arrhythmic breathing. When Edward's hands suddenly disappeared from her body, she almost fell off of him but dropped her own hands forward onto his legs, feeling the spasms that rippled under her fingers and the wetness that spread through the fabric of his trousers.

Still panting from excitement and exertion, she stared at him, abruptly uncertain of what came next. They'd just—

His hands were still behind his head where he had forced them a few seconds before, but now he pulled her back towards him, kissing her, moaning into her mouth. It felt so good. His hands moved with as much surety as they had moments ago, and she realized that he was still hard beneath her.

Vampire bodies, she reminded herself, needed no rest. Apparently, not even with this.

On the other hand, she was exhausted despite having just slept. Her head was beginning to spin and not in a pleasant way. "I think I need to lie down." Her breathing was still too quick.

Edward stopped immediately, leaning back to look at her. She recognized the clinical expression on his face and then the anxiety. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm just—that was really amazing, and now I need to lie down." Whoa. There was a violent spin in her vision.

She was prone in a second, Edward lifting her feet up on the sofa cushions. "I'm going to get you something to drink."

From the sounds coming from the kitchen, she knew he was getting food, too. "I'm not hun—"

He'd already returned, a small plate of fruit and a glass of juice in his hands. "Then maybe in a few minutes. Here."

She didn't miss the fact that he was already wearing another pair of pants, and it made her smile. After sipping at the juice he'd brought her, her equilibrium returned, and she blushed slightly, thinking of what they'd just experienced together. "Talk about knocking a girl off her feet there, Cullen."

She swore he would have been blushing if he could. She recognized the twitch of his cheek muscles. "I'm not sure what the corollary expression is for a man, but I share the sentiment."


DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.