BPOV

I was glad Edward told me to dress casually for our "date," because I didn't know any other way to be. I didn't come from money, and I was anything but prim and proper—undoubtedly very different from the girl he was supposed to marry.

My jeans were skin-tight and black, and my silk camisole, though loose in its fit, seemed to constrict around my chest whenever I thought of Edward and our impending evening. I was wearing the only pair of stilettos I owned.

"It's just a test run," I assured myself quietly as I approached him. It wasn't a real date. I didn't date. But it felt real, and that worried me more than anything else. Maybe deep down I wanted it to be real, but I couldn't give in or agonize over such thoughts.

I needed to keep reminding myself that my job here was to mold him into the perfect … partner. Nothing more.

No feelings, no attachment—safe.

And then I really looked at him across the street.

He looked perfect. Soulful green eyes that glistened in the twilight; erratic hair that looked gloriously disheveled, almost as though it had been styled to look so sexually chaotic; long legs encased in expensive denim; broad shoulders draped in cashmere that hugged every curve and groove of his upper body; sharp, stubbled jaw … fucking hell, he was devastating, and he had no idea, which only made him more beautiful.

No one knew the battle that raged in my head; no one could hear my thoughts—thankfully—any time I was near him. The way he watched me as I approached made my knees threaten to buckle under my own weight; that shy smile of his. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me, what I was to him. Was I a means to an end? A warm-up, a practice run before he met the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with? Did he prefer me over her?

Good grief.

I needed to stop thinking that way.

I had spent years carefully constructing the walls around my heart, and I vowed to protect them, keep them in place and never let them crumble.

"Hey," he croaked, his smile widening when I stopped in front of him.

"You look great," I said by way of greeting, winking. He blushed, and I almost groaned.

"You look beautiful." Shit. Now I was blushing. I didn't blush. Ever. Damn him.

He nudged his head in a vague direction and started down the street, steadying his pace so I could keep up. Even in my heels, the top of my head barely reached his shoulder. I liked it.

"What's this about?" I asked, looking up at him, teasing just a little.

He shrugged, his face remaining forward. For a beat, I didn't think he was going to answer—he was thinking too hard, and usually when he did that, he talked himself out of whatever it was he wanted to say or do. "Isn't this what happens usually?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Girl meets boy, boy asks her on a date."

"Very conventional," I mused, smiling to myself. We started by skipping a few steps, but it seemed Edward was dead set on doing it the right way suddenly.

"Is it?" he asked, smirking, his head dipping to look at me briefly. Too briefly.

"In the grand scheme of things." I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't ask. I didn't care, and that terrified me a little. I tried to remember the last time I had been on a date. High school, I think. I tried not to think of the past, so it was all a little blurry. "Just so you know," I started, after a minute of heavy silence. "I don't kiss on the first date."

He laughed, and the sound made me smile wide. I looked up at him the exact same time he angled his head to look down at me. "Bummer," he said, pursing his lips, unable to contain his mirth.

"Girl code," I told him, trying to look serious, but it was futile. When he looked at me, like he was doing at that moment—all piercing green eyes, long lashes, and happy demeanor—I forgot my own name.

"Hmm."

The streets were busy, bustling in the early evening. I walked close to Edward, feeling safe against the flow of human traffic when close to his tall frame. As the crowds grew denser, one of his hands left his pocket and settled on the base of my spine, just above my ass. I felt the heat, not physically, but emotionally; the gesture warmed me and made me step even closer into his side.

As we walked closer to the harbor, the cool breeze from the sea woke me from my mental musings; the warm, inviting scent of cotton candy and fried food assaulted my nostrils in the most delicious way.

"Is this?" I let my words trail off, looking over the carnival. I desperately wanted to believe his plan, but surely he wasn't this good.

Except he was.

He looked bashful, kicking at the ground with the toe of his shoe. "I figured—I thought you'd prefer this over a restaurant."

The large Ferris wheel glowed bright against the darkening sky; excited cheers and calls traveled in the breeze from the rides and carnival games stretched out in front of us. It was perfect. My heart thudded excitedly, and my smile took over my whole face.

"You thought right." I was beaming, and I wasn't too proud to admit it. "This is going to be so much fun!"

I knew I should have worn sneakers.

AN:

Thanks to Mel for beta'ing this in no time! And all you lovely people for reading and reviewing.