I adopted this plot bunny a year or so ago. It really intrigued me. I posted a poll in my group asking which story I should work on next and this was the winner. It's definitely a WIP. I've only got a rough outline figured out and I'm going back to my roots with this … writing with a vague plan. I hope that I can do this justice.

None of this is mine … I wish it was. Sigh …

Up next, Edward will be visiting San Francisco. Will Bella tell her story to him? Leave me your thoughts.

Chapter Nine

Bella

I was working on the screenplay. I'd created the list of characters, along with actors I'd love to play those roles. I knew it was a pipe dream, but a girl could wish. I'd love for Chris Hemsworth to be the love interest of my main character, but he was probably out of our price-range for the movie.

Though, my mind was thinking that Edward would be a great fit … perhaps for my love interest.

Don't wish for that … you don't deserve it. You don't deserve anything.

I hated my inner-voice and how it sounded so much like Jacob. He'd taken so much from me. Too much, to be honest.

When would he stop?

Never.

I shook my head, trying to not think about my awful ex-boyfriend. I needed to focus on the screenplay. So, that's what I did. Along with the list of actors and actresses, I also began working on paring down the scenes, picking and choosing which ones needed to be in the movie and which ones could be omitted because they didn't drive the story along.

I wanted to keep all the scenes, as the author. But, as a movie-goer, some scenes would end up on the cutting-room floor.

It was a very tedious process.

As I was working, I was struggling with rereading the novel. It was a fictionalized version of what I'd endured from the moment my father was diagnosed with cancer my junior year of high school until I arrived in San Francisco at the age of twenty-six. Granted, the fictitious me, Charlotte, got a happily ever after with a man who fell in love with her and her son.

My main character wasn't as emotionally stunted and mentally scarred in the novel. Besides, most readers won't read a story if it doesn't have a happily ever after. Long and Winding Road, it meandered and twisted, but Charlotte got her happily ever after.

Me? Not so much …

I was too terrified of opening my heart up to someone, only to have it thrown in my face again like with Jacob.

Not like I loved Jacob. I did, however, like the idea of having someone in my life after my father's death. I had no other family. My mother was gone and I didn't have the means to find her. Besides, leaving in the dead of night sends a pretty clear message that she didn't want to be in my life. My dad's parents had died before I was born. I never knew my mother's side of the family, for obvious reasons. Billy and Jacob had been a part of our family for as long as I could remember.

Little did I know that they didn't feel the same about me as I did about them. I'd felt like Billy was a second father and Jacob was my best friend when I was younger. We made mud pies together!

After Jacob and I got together? That's when things changed.

I was a drain on their resources.

I was that whore who ruined Jacob's life.

In reality, it was the other way around. Jacob ruined my life, with his need to control me. Yes, I was the one who wanted to have sex, just to feel something besides sadness after my father's death, but he was the one who didn't stop when I asked him to. He was the one who shrugged off the broken condom. He was the one who said he'd be by my side when I held up a positive pregnancy test.

I was not ready to be a parent. I'd just buried my father. I couldn't be a mother to a baby. But, Jacob vowed to be by my side and stupidly, I believed him.

I shouldn't have been surprised when he gave up on me, on us, on our child.

He was the one who threw me away when I was no longer useful.

He didn't support me or his son.

Yes, he provided us with shelter but I paid him, hand over foot, for that shelter. I was also emotionally abused by him and his father, constantly ridiculed and demeaned for what Jacob did to me. How he took from me, and continued to take from me without asking.

When I fought back, he dropped me like a bad habit and kicked me out.

At least I didn't have to sleep with one eye open and in fear that Jacob would force himself on me when I didn't want it. When I didn't want him.

I never wanted him.

I only went out with him because my dad insisted. He wanted to see me be a teenager, not a miniature adult, making sure that he took his medicine or driving him to and from his treatments in Port Angeles. He wanted me happy and Jacob did make me happy.

As a friend.

As a boyfriend? He sucked. He was selfish, narcissistic and mean.

As a human being? He was the worst, along with his father.

"Hey, Bells," Jasper said, breaking my reverie.

I jumped and blinked to him, plastering on a fake smile. "Hi, Jasper. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's good. I just got notice that your next novel, Maps, is moving forward with publication. You'll need to meet with the graphic designer to discuss the cover. I'm assuming that you'll want to keep the same style of artwork like the other novels in the series, right?" Jasper asked. I nodded with a smile. "How is the screenplay going?"

"It's a lot different than writing a novel," I said. "Edward was kind enough to send me an example. I'm setting it up, but I need his help."

"You said he's coming up, right?"

"Yes, this weekend. Perhaps, we can get a good start on this," I said, gesturing to my computer. "My eyes are crossing and to be honest, I'm overwhelmed."

"Do you have time to go out for lunch? Let's get out of here," he asked. "You looked pretty upset when I walked in. I think you need a break."

"You know me so well," I breathed, saving my work and picking up my purse. We left the office and walked to a nearby café, the Stable Café. We settled at an outdoor table and ordered some drinks. "Thanks for getting me out of the office."

"Every so often, you get this look on your face. You look lost and so very sad," Jasper said, idly playing with a straw. "Usually when you're working on something that's emotional, but this was far more intense. I know I'm not my sister, but I am a good listener. I act like a fool, but I'm a loyal friend."

"You're more than that," I said, squeezing his hand. Our drinks were delivered and we put in an order for the food. Jasper got a hamburger with fries while I got some soup and salad. I sipped my iced tea. I put the glass on the table. "Jasper, I know I play my cards close to the vest."

"You're entitled to have your secrets, sweet girl," Jasper said soothingly.

I leaned forward and played with my drink, idly turning it on the table. "Jasper, I don't want to tell you everything. Rose is the only person who knows the whole story," I murmured. "I don't think I can tell you everything, but my novel, Long and Winding Road, is semi-autobiographical. A lot of what Charlotte experienced in the book, I survived."

"What?" he whispered. "Bella …"

"It's not something I like to broadcast," I shrugged, taking another sip of my iced tea.

"Bells, how much of the story is true?" Jasper asked, his eyes so soft and swirling with concern. There was also a note of anger in his eyes, as well.

"Up until we got to the soft place to land," I answered. "Charlotte's ordeals were not as intense as what I lived through, but it's pretty damn close. I didn't want to be too graphic."

"Seth's birth father? He …" Jasper trailed off.

"Yes," I nodded curtly. "I haven't spoken to him since I left my hometown. I couldn't press charges because he lived on a Native American Reservation. He was Quileute and they lived on the reservation at La Push. His father is the tribal chief. If I could press charges, they would be thrown out because the local town had no jurisdiction on the reservation. So, I just took it until I couldn't anymore. When that happened, Seth and I were thrown out. It was a blessing in disguise, even if we struggled until we got here in San Francisco."

"Fuck," Jasper snapped. "There's a special place in hell for people like that."

"Agreed," I sighed. "I'm sorry that I kept that a secret."

"Bella, you have every right to keep that to yourself. I'm so sorry that you … damn it," Jasper breathed, clenching his hands into tights fists. "I just hate that you had to live through that."

"Well, when you see me look sad and lost, I'm, more than likely, entrenched in a flashback or dwelling on what I had to do to survive," I explained. "Rereading the book and working on the screenplay is opening up some pretty jagged wounds. Wounds that I honestly thought were closed, but obviously not"

"Why did you agree to write the screenplay?" Jasper asked. "Writing the novel must have been hell to write … Now the screenplay? Damn!"

"It was my therapy, Jasper. Writing the story was my therapy. It helped me process the nightmare I'd survived," I argued. "I couldn't exactly afford to go to real therapy as I fought my way here. Hell, most of the time, I didn't know when my next meal would be or where we'd stay. There were weeks, months, where we'd live in my truck because I couldn't afford an apartment or a hotel room. When I met Rose and Emmett, I was … days away from starving to death. I had to feed my son. He was my priority. He'll always be my priority."

"I hadn't met you until a couple months after you'd moved into the apartment. I always thought you were tiny, but I can't imagine you any smaller," Jasper frowned.

"I stayed with Rose and Em for the first month because I was emotionally and physically drained. I needed help with Seth and they became my family," I whispered. "I got on the scale and I was just shy of ninety pounds. I was a skeleton."

"Bells … I'm so sorry," Jasper said, moving to sit next to me and hugging me tightly. I was stiff in his arms, but eventually hugged him back. "Can I ask a question?"

I pulled back and wiped my cheeks, nodding slowly. "You can ask, but I reserve the right to not answer, Jasper. It's a part of my life that I don't like to revisit."

"Understood," he said. "This thing with Edward … are you pushing against it because of what happened to you? Do you think that you're not worthy of him?"

"I know I'm not," I answered simply. Charlotte, in my novel, had been through hell and crawled her way back to happiness, but she didn't have half of the physical or emotional scars that I did. Yes, I had scars and injuries littering most of my torso, but the biggest one happened when I gave birth to Seth, followed by a gnarly scar under my breast from another scary situation. My hand moved to my belly; a cruel reminder of what Jacob had stolen from me. Or rather, it was Billy who caused this damage. Because he was so cheap, I nearly bled to death and the options were death or a hysterectomy.

The latter was chosen.

There were moments where I wished for the former. I wanted to die … death had to be easier than the nightmare I'd endured.

"Bells, that's where you're wrong," Jasper said. "You're more than worthy. You deserve a chance at happiness, at love."

"That's the thing, Jasper. I don't know if I'm capable of … loving anyone besides Seth. My ex broke something in me. He shattered my spirit and that further crumpled with each awful moment after I'd left," I murmured. "I say the words, but I don't feel them. I can't feel them. My heart was broken into tiny pieces and I'm uncertain if it can be fully mended."

"That's where we'll have to disagree," Jasper argued as our food was brought to the table. "Bella, I don't think that you're broken beyond all repair. You adore Seth with all of your heart."

"But, I don't know if I can open up my heart to love someone else, Jasper," I argued, stabbing at a cucumber in my salad.

"I think you already have," Jasper retorted, giving me an arched brow.

"Really?"

"I don't think you love Edward, but you are attracted to him and the fact that you're even considering something him says that your spirit is not completely lost," Jasper explained, pointing at me with a fry. "When you went out with him, after that day, did you kiss him?"

My face flamed and swiped the iced tea, taking a hasty drink.

"I rest my case," Jasper snickered. "Bella, what your ex did to you was abhorrent. He had no right. No man does. But, speaking as a man, I do not feel like you are unworthy of happiness, of love. If anything, you deserve it more. You deserve to have someone love you, regardless." He reached over and took my hand. I swiped my cheeks with my other hand, trying not to break down in sobs. "I think … we need to play hooky."

"I have too much to do," I argued. "I'm taking Thursday and Friday off."

"Bells, the art department is busy the rest of the afternoon and you … you deserve it," Jasper smirked. "I think we need to spend some of that money you got for the novel from Summit. Did you say you wanted a new car?"

"My truck, while a part of my past, is becoming too financially cumbersome," I said. "The last time I brought it in because it crapped out, I spent way too much money on it. I just can't let it go, Jas."

"Don't let it go," Jasper suggested. "Keep the truck but get something a little more economical, but fun. I'm getting a Tesla with my bonus from your contract. If I can afford that, you can afford a lot more …"

"Just because I can, doesn't mean that I will," I argued.

"Sweet girl, spoil yourself," Jasper smirked. "Just this one time. I'll go with you."

"We'll go shopping," I said. "But, you need to tell me what's going on with Alice. You got all swoony when you mentioned her recently."

"I'm not all swoony now," he grumbled. "She's so hot and cold. One moment, she's all hot and we're having some insane phone sex. Then, she's been radio silent for days. I've texted her, but she hasn't responded."

"Maybe she's busy," I offered.

"No, not really. Her schedule was freed up when her brother fired her," Jasper answered. "Edward went to bat for you, Bella. He called her out on her bullshit."

"I think he was well within his rights to do so," I snorted. "She essentially called me trailer trash."

"And, I told her that you were the kindest woman I'd ever known," Jasper argued. "She didn't call me for a few days after that, then we had some Skype sex …"

"Ugh, Jasper. I do not need to know that," I groaned.

"You write about sex," Jasper snickered. "Some of your smutty scenes are hot!"

"I write about it, but it's all from my imagination. I've never experienced any of that," I muttered. Jasper blanched and I shook my head. "I shouldn't have told you about my past. Now things are going to be weird."

"I just … I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Jasper, please, please, don't treat me any differently. I can't handle it if you treat me with pity or censor your thoughts," I pleaded.

"Bella, I do not pity you. It'll take some time for me to process what you survived," Jasper said honestly.

"Okay," I nodded. "I'm sorry. I just … I don't want my past to color how people look at me, Jas. I'm not a whore. I'm not trailer trash." I said the words, but I struggled to believe them.

"I completely understand, Bells," Jasper said, squeezing my hand. "Let's finish our lunch and get you a car."

"We'll shop for a car," I snickered. "I don't know about getting a car, Jasper."

"We shall see, my young Padawan," Jasper replied sagely.

xx Blockbuster xx

Flashback

The alarm went off too early. I groaned and covered my head with my pillow, trying to ignore the obnoxious beeping on my nightstand. Eventually, I slapped it quiet and I heard my father snicker.

"Come on, Belly Bean. What did the alarm clock ever do to you?" he quipped.

"It went off," I mumbled from beneath my pillow. "I need more sleep! I was up too late, finishing up my trig homework."

"I'm sorry about that. I also struggled with math and I can tell you that I've never used trig in real life," Dad said, pulling the pillow off my head. I scowled at him. "Don't look at me in that tone of voice, Isabella Marie. I'm trying to give you breakfast in bed for your birthday, kiddo."

I sat up and saw that he was holding a tray with a plate of food, a cup of coffee and orange juice. "Did you cook?" I teased.

"No, I leave that to you, Bella," he said, putting the tray over my legs. "I picked this up from the diner on my way home from work."

"You shouldn't have to work overnights, Dad. You've got bags under your eyes," I chided. "And, you've lost weight."

"I've got to keep up with my younger deputies," Dad snickered, sitting down and grimacing slightly.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

"I chased a perp and I took a tumble, landing on my ass," Dad sighed. "I'm fine. Eat your breakfast. I got your favorites."

"You did, but I can't eat all this," I said, looking at the plate with pancakes, fluffy eggs and bacon. "Want to share?"

"I had some breakfast while Diane made your breakfast," Dad replied. "Whatever you don't finish, we can save as leftovers, okay?"

"Okay," I said. "Thank you for picking up breakfast, Dad. This is so much better than the Pop Tart I was going to eat while I walked to school." Dad just watched me as I ate what I could for breakfast. "You're being creepy, Dad."

"Sorry, Belly Bean," he chuckled. "I just … I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too, Dad," I smiled. "You're being very weird, though."

"I'm just feeling nostalgic, Bella. It seems like yesterday that I was holding you as a baby and now, you're seventeen. I know that it's kind of a dud birthday. It's not like your 'Sweet Sixteen.' My baby girl is growing up," he said softly, brushing a stray hair from my face.

"Really?" I laughed. "We drove to Port Angeles to get my driver's license and that was about it."

"We ate at Bella Italia after you got your license," Dad explained. "I would have picked up your favorite mushroom ravioli, but that's not really good breakfast food."

"You're right," I giggled, taking a sip of the coffee. "Pancakes are much more preferable than mushroom ravioli."

"Well, I'll let you finish up. When you're done, come downstairs. I have something for you," Dad grinned, kissing my cheek. His mustache tickled my cheek and I swatted at him. He laughed, jogging downstairs.

I ate all of the pancakes and most of the bacon. I couldn't finish the eggs. I got up, putting the tray on the bed and I grabbed some clothes. I went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and putting on a pair of jeans along with a thermal Henley. I put on a hoodie on top and carried my boots in my hand, along with the tray. My dad was in the kitchen, pulling the garbage out and checking to see if we needed groceries. "If you want the rest of my eggs, Dad …"

"Thanks, Belly Bean," he said, taking the tray and putting it on the table. "I'll have them after I give you your birthday present."

"Dad, breakfast was enough," I chided.

"Nonsense," he said, picking up my backpack and jacket. "Put these on, kiddo."

I shook my head, taking the proffered items. I tugged on my boots and slid my jacket on over my shoulders. When I had my bag slung onto my back, my dad turned me around and covered my eyes. "Dad, I can barely walk while I'm able to see. This is a sure-fire way to land me in the emergency room."

"Work with me, Bella," he laughed, pushing me out the front door. The morning was chilly and damp - typical Forks weather. "Keep your eyes closed, okay?"

I nodded and felt his hands move from my face. I heard him duck back inside, grabbing something that had a metallic jangle. He lifted my right hand, pressing something into my palm. "Dad?"

"Open your eyes, Bella," Dad said.

I blinked open my lids and saw the ugliest truck parked behind his police cruiser. It was older than my father and was the color of rust. I looked down to what my dad had pressed into my hand and I saw a set of keys. "You got me a truck?"

"I know it doesn't look like much. Jacob and the La Push boys completely rebuilt the engine," Dad said. "She's sturdy and safe. I know you hate driving around in the cruiser and it's about time you had a car of your own. So, happy birthday!"

I smiled widely, turning to throw my arms around my dad's neck. "This is the best birthday present ever," I breathed against his skin. "Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome, Bella," he said, his voice quiet. He kissed my temple and looked at me. "No more walking to school."

"Sweet," I sang, kissing his cheek and darting down the steps. I unlocked the door. My dad was on my heels. I settled behind the wheels, grinning widely. "This truck is old … does she have any quirks?"

"She can't go above fifty miles per hour, but she's in good condition. This truck used to belong to Old Quil before they took his license away. He was trying to claim that he could still drive, while have his eyes clouded with cataracts," Dad deadpanned. "Anyway, I got the truck from him for a song and the rest is history, Belly Bean."

"Thank you, Dad," I smiled. "You cannot imagine how much I love this."

"Well, crank her up," Dad laughed, stepping back. I turned the car over, squealing at its loud engine. "Be safe, Belly Bean."

"I will, Dad," I said. I put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb. I looked forward, eager to show off my new wheels at school.

Behind me, my father was crying …

It was the last normal day we had before our lives came to a brutal halt.

Cancer sucked.

xx Blockbuster xx

On Wednesday night, I was reading what I'd written for the screenplay and listening to some music. Seth was in his room, working on homework. He had made the basketball team and one of the requirements was to keep his grades up. My son was incredibly smart, probably smarter than me, but he had a lazy streak a mile long. He waited until the very last moment to work on his homework.

When he was on academic probation after the first week of practice, he knew he had to buckle down. So, after each practice, he'd work on his assignments, despite being exhausted from practice.

My cell phone rang from its spot on the cocktail table. I put the laptop on the table, swiping the phone. I blushed when I saw who the caller was. Sliding my finger across the screen, I held the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"It's been too long since I've heard your voice," Edward crooned. I could hear the raspiness in his voice, but I was happy to hear from him. "How are you doing, gorgeous?"

"Overwhelmed, if I'm being honest," I replied, scowling at the computer. "Writing the screenplay is more difficult than I anticipated."

"Is it too much, Bella?" he asked.

"There's just so much that I don't know," I answered. "I can write the dialogue, taking it directly from the novel, but the stage directions and all that? I'm lost."

"It's a good thing you have me," he quipped. "And, I'll be in San Francisco by two tomorrow. I'm staying at the St. Regis."

"Oooh, fancy," I teased.

"I got spoiled," he laughed. "I'm too tall and luxury hotels usually have beds that can handle my lanky self. Plus, I also sleep diagonally."

"So, you're a bed hog," I snickered.

"Too many years being single," he chuckled. "But, enough talk about work."

"You sound better," I said. "Did the tea help?"

"It did," he replied. "I actually enjoyed it, too. I'm not one to enjoy tea. Coffee is my vice. I'm woefully addicted. I cannot function until I have at least one cup of coffee."

"There were days where I subsisted on coffee and air," I murmured, curling up and leaning my cheek on my knees. "I got a car this week. Well, a new SUV."

"Why does that sound like it was a big deal?" Edward asked.

"Because it is," I sighed. "The last vehicle I'd received was from my dad."

"Tell me about it," he requested.

I told Edward about my dad and how sweet he was when he woke me up on my seventeenth birthday. He'd treated me to breakfast in bed and then gave me the ugliest, loudest and most amazing gift ever. It was a regular day, which was exactly what I wanted for my birthday.

"You sound sad," Edward murmured.

I sighed, idly playing with a string on my couch. "That was the last day of my childhood, Edward. After that? Everything went to hell," I replied. Blowing out a breath, I continued. "My dad told me the following day that he had cancer and … He was dead eighteen months later. I was at my high school graduation, giving my valedictorian speech while my father took his last breaths."

"Oh, God, Bella. I'm so sorry," Edward said lowly.

"I wanted to be with him, but he said that he wanted me to graduate from high school. He wanted me to give my speech, which I'd practiced in front of him so many times," I murmured. "After the ceremony, I drove back home and the coroner's van was already here. His hospice nurse hugged me, explaining that he'd went peacefully. Her words did little soften the blow that my father was dead." I wiped my cheeks and blew out a breath. "Sorry about being such a downer."

"Bella, you're not. You went through a difficult situation with the loss of your dad," Edward murmured. "I wish I could do something to … I don't know … take the pain away."

"Losing a parent is a foregone conclusion, eventually," I shrugged. "I just happened to lose both of mine at a very young age."

"Well, you said you got a new car. What did you get?" Edward asked, thankfully diverting my attention to something else besides my growing sorrow.

"I was leaning toward a used vehicle, but Jasper said that I had eight figures in the bank and I didn't need get a used car," I snorted. "So, I splurged and got a Volvo. It's being delivered tomorrow since the one I wanted was on a lot in Sacramento."

"What kind of Volvo? What color?" Edward pressed.

"One of the SUVs, the biggest one," I answered, "and I got a silver one. I considered getting this pretty blue SUV, but that would have been a six week wait to get the blue one. I didn't want to wait six weeks. I'd made a decision to get a new car. I didn't want to delay it because I'd probably change my mind and cancel the order. So, I'll have the new car for your visit. I'm pretty certain you don't want to be chauffeured around in a decrepit Chevy truck."

"As long as I'm with you, I would be more than thrilled to drive around in anything," he said. "Even a decrepit Chevy truck."

We talked for a few more minutes, making preliminary plans for tomorrow. Seth would hang out at Rose and Emmett's that night. I'd pick him up after Edward and I separated for the evening.

When I hung up with Edward, I rubbed my chest as I thought about my dad. There were still days where I'd feel his death like it was yesterday. My dad was my biggest supporter. He loved me, unconditionally. If he'd known what had happened after he died, he'd probably be rolling over in his grave. I bit back a sob, trying to not to let the grief pull me under.

I closed my eyes, trying to remember my dad. All the photos I'd had of him were left in my hasty departure from the shack I'd shared with Jacob. I couldn't remember his face, the sound of his voice or how he smelled. I missed his hugs. They were rare, but so special. I missed his smile, his laughter and his stability.

"Daddy," I sniffled. "Why couldn't you stay with me longer? I miss you so much." On shaky legs, I walked toward my bedroom after checking on Seth. He was snoring, sprawled on his bed. I kissed my son's forehead and went into my own room. I curled up around my pillow, closing my eyes. I tried to will my father's memory to return.

It didn't work.

xx Blockbuster xx

After Seth left for school, I took my time to get dressed. I curled my hair and put on makeup. Once I was dressed, Jasper came to pick me up to get my new car. I signed the paperwork and handed over the cashier's check for the cost of the car. The keys were pressed into my hand. I tried not to panic at the cost of the car, but I knew I was okay. I'd be okay. I wasn't moments away from starving to death. I had friends, family. I had a roof over my head and money in the bank.

I was okay.

I would be okay.

Wouldn't I?

In my new car, I followed Jasper to the publishing house and spent the rest of the morning working on the first part of the movie screenplay. I focused on the dialogue and describing the locations. Around noon, I got a text from Edward. It was a silly selfie of him in his seat on the airplane. I cracked a smile, giggling at his excited expression. I responded with my own selfie and I just about melted when I saw his reply.

He was wiggling his way into my heart and I was allowing it. I wanted it. I wanted him.

You're not good enough. You never were and never will be.

I shook my head, trying to force that hateful voice out of my head. Maybe I should talk to someone. Mentally, I added it to my never-ending to-do list.

By the time Edward sent me another text, explaining he'd landed in San Francisco, I'd managed to get through the first third of the novel. I was a bit raw and exposed, but I'd gotten through that without sobbing. That wouldn't have been very attractive to show up at Edward's hotel with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

"What are you still doing here?" Jasper asked. "I thought your man landed an hour ago."

"He did, but we agreed that I'd go over for dinner," I explained.

"Bella, sweet girl, I think you need to go over there and knock his socks off," Jasper said, arching a brow. "Well, doing whatever you're comfortable with, of course."

"I don't want to overstep my bounds," I said, blushing something fierce.

"Did he tell you that he arrived?" Jasper asked. I nodded. "Did he say which room he was in?"

"Yes, he did," I replied.

"Bella, go to the hotel," Jasper laughed, closing my computer. "Have fun. Live a little."

I nibbled on my thumb nail, picking up my cell phone, seeing Edward's text explaining he'd arrived and was in the hotel, unpacking his bags. I looked up at Jasper. He dangled my new car keys in my face. I rolled my eyes, taking the keys and standing up. "Should I tell him I'm on my way or just show up?"

"Don't overthink, Bella," Jasper chided, pushing me out of the office and toward the elevators.

I got into my new car. I sent a text to my son, asking if he was okay. He responded with a thumbs up and told me to have fun. I blew out a breath, starting my car and putting in the address to the St. Regis into the GPS program. I followed the instructions and parked in the lot across the street from the hotel. I walked into the lobby, making my way to bank of elevators. I rode up to the top floor. Edward said that he was staying in the penthouse. I'd teased him about being a snob, but he didn't deny it. He just laughed it off.

I shifted on my feet outside of Edward's room. The butterflies were swirling in my stomach. I was afraid that he'd turn his back on me. "I should just go," I mumbled to myself, shaking my head. "This is stupid." I started to turn, but the door opened. My eyes widened at Edward's tall form, with a warm smile and twinkling green eyes. "Um, hi."

"Hi, gorgeous," he chuckled. "I heard someone outside the door. I thought it was the room service I'd ordered, but instead, I find a beautiful woman trying to run away."

"I'm a mess?" I quipped, shrugging.

"We're all a mess," he said, tugging on my hand and pulling me into his arms. He gently hugged me, snuggling me in his arms. I practically melted against his solid chest and inhaled his sandalwood and amber scent. "It's been too long since I've held you."

"Edward," I chided.

"Shhh, let me hold you," he said, backing us into the room and closing the door. In the room, he pressed his cheek against my head and held me closer. I snaked my arms around his waist. I gripped his button-down. "Can I kiss you, gorgeous?"

I should say no.

My mind was screaming no, but my heart wanted it so badly.

I looked up at him and searched his emerald eyes. They were so kind, so genuine. His fingers moved along my cheek, leaving paths of heat in their wake. I slid my hand along his bicep, finding his jaw with my fingertips. When I gently moved my hand to his neck, he took that as an invitation to move forward. His lips brushed along mine. The butterflies that had taken up residence in my belly took off in delight, just like they had in Los Angeles.

I sighed, reveling in the softness of his mouth and how tenderly he was holding me – like I was the most important, most cherished thing in his world. Our kisses were gentle and unhurried, but I was growing breathless. He must have felt the same, pulling back and pressing his forehead to mine. He was panting, with his eyes closed. I gripped his shirt, trying not to ruin the moment with verbal vomit.

"That was well worth the wait and it was so amazing for you to surprise me," he breathed, his mouth teasing mine.

"As you could tell, I was panicking," I snorted humorlessly. "I almost ran."

"I would have found you, Bella," he said, stepping back and cupping my cheek. "I'm excited and happy to be here. Yes, the main reason is because we're working on the movie together, but also because I've missed you. I'm not bullshitting you." He took my hand, leading me to the couch. We sat down. "Now, what do we have planned while I'm in town?"

I curled up and grinned. "Whatever you like, but I do need your help with the screenplay," I said.

"I will. I promise," he replied. "I just want to see my Bella in her natural habitat."

"Your Bella?" I asked, arching a brow.

"I'd like that, very much," he said softly. "Bella, I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time. I want to see where this goes. I want you. I want us."

My mind, again, was screaming that I shouldn't, but I decided to throw caution to the wind. "I want us, too."

He leaned forward, brushing his lips over mine. He smiled against my mouth. "Best. Trip. Ever."

A/N: I wanted to include Edward's full trip in this chapter, but the chapter was going to be too long. So, we're going to continue his visit in the next chapter. We're going to continue this 'date' in EPOV and the trip in BPOV. Now, given the snippets of Bella's past, this will be more of a slow burn.

Pictures from this chapter will be on my blog. You can access that through a link in my profile. I'm also on Facebook: Tufano79's Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation. I'm on twitter, too: tufano79.

Also, if you are interested in an amazing clueless, but adorable Actorward, check out LaMomo's Business Class Girl. She recently marked this one as complete and I'm devouring it! You can find it on FFn, AO3 and Stars. Make sure you give her some loving!

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