A/N Hello! So here's chapter ten. It's a little short, I know, but hopefully when you reach the end it'll make up for it!

Disclaimer: Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, only the plot is mine.

Chapter 10

JPov

I woke up to the sun shinning into my eyes, which was weird because I always shut my drapes. Of course, I would forget on what appeared to be the fucking sunniest day of the year. I groaned and tried to close the drapes using some impressive mind control. Fucking sun! I rolled over so that I could go back to sleep and buried my face into the pillow. Hmm, why am I naked? I don't sleep naked. Was I drunk last night? I groaned again into the pillow, until I noticed something.

That's odd. I took a deep breath of the pillow. There was a smell I couldn't identify on my pillow. It was a nice smell, but it was nothing like anything I used. I took another breath…what the hell was that. The smell, now that I thought about it, was also on the sheets.

Sheets that were softer than my sheets.

I cracked one eye open. These sheets were blue. Mine weren't.

I wasn't in my bed.

I shot up and looked at the room around me, trying to figure out where I was. I had never been in this room before. What had happened last night?

And then everything came to me. I remembered dinner with Edward and his sister, our stupid miscommunication, which led to the stupid fight. Giving him a blow job. Telling him that I loved him.

Oh Fuck. What had I done? Edward hadn't freaked out last night, but he wasn't here right now. Where was he? Had I scared him away?

I calmed myself down, taking deep breaths. I was still in his house. In his bed. That had to mean something, right? Well I wasn't going to solve anything by sitting in bed and worrying. I swung my legs off the side of the bed and quickly took in the room around me. Edward had a nice room. It was very tidy, just as I expected his room to be. I looked at his dresser and saw that my clothes were neatly folded on top of it. I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped; I loved that man and his quirks. I dressed quickly, leaving my socks off.

I walked out of the bedroom and tried to decide where Edward would be. Not knowing the time, I narrowed it down to either the kitchen or the music room. And I desperately hoped he was in the kitchen because I was starving. I loved hearing him talk about his music, but my stomach was making its own music at the moment and I needed to eat.

As I got closer to the kitchen the most delicious scent hit my nose. Oh thank god, Edward's cooking. I pushed the door open and watched the love of my life hunched over the stove making pancakes in his pyjamas and an apron. I didn't want to surprise him by sneaking up on him, but I couldn't resist the temptation to touch him.

I reached out my hand and placed it on his bare back. He stilled for a moment, but then relaxed and turned his head towards me.

"You're awake," He said. I nodded and walked closer to him, running my hand up his back to his neck. I kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Making me breakfast?"

Edward snorted and turned back to the stove, "I'm making myself breakfast. I don't know what you're going to have."

"What?" I gasped and gave the hair on the base a light tug. His head rolled back to look at me briefly before he resumed cooking, I tried not to laugh when Edward glared indignantly at a pancake that had burned while I had been distracting him. He scrapped the pancake off the griddle and threw it in the trash, muttering to himself.

"Are you okay?" I couldn't help it, Edward looked so upset about the pancake, I couldn't help but laugh at him.

"It was your fault, you distracted me. Now you need to let me cook. You should go practice and I'll get you when breakfast is done." He said very seriously. He grabbed my hand that was around his neck and pulled it off him, dropping it by my side. I would have listened to him, if I hadn't seen the gleam in his eyes. That just made me want to distract him more. And I really wasn't in the mood for practicing the piano. Not when Edward was right here, shirtless, and cooking for me.

"So, I was meaning to ask you, what's with the apron?" I asked. I jumped up on the counter next to him, watching him the whole time.

He blushed and ducked his head down for a moment, "Well, I plan on making hash browns and I didn't want any hot oil to burn me."

"Okay, that makes sense," I said, "But here's where I get confused. You're in an apron."

I felt it was necessary to point this out, just in case Edward wasn't aware that he, a man, had entered his kitchen and put on an apron. It was a manly one—assuming one can call any apron 'manly'— there were no frills, and the lettering on it: "BBQ Naked: Show off your buns" appealed to me greatly. But I couldn't get over the fact that the man I loved wore an apron.

"Yeah, so? I didn't want to ruin a shirt."

"But you're in an apron." He really wasn't getting this. He wasn't grilling; he was cooking, in an apron, like he was a 50's housewife.

"Look, I like my man apron. It keeps my clothes clean and when I'm done it immediately is hung outside or is washed."

"I'm not saying I don't like the apron," I replied, "I'm just confused by its existence." I stewed with that thought for a moment, before something else hit me, "Also, I feel that if you are going to wear an apron that makes a statement, you are obligated to conform to that statement."

Edward looked at me like I was crazy, then looked down at the apron. His eyes widened in understanding and then he smirked at me.

"But I'm not BBQing. I'm just cooking." He cocked an eyebrow at me and flipped a pancake over.

"Well we're just gonna have to have a BBQ then," I muttered. I tried to remember if I had a sharpie so that I could cross out 'BBQ' and write 'Cook'. That would fix everything.

Edward finished with the pancakes and we sat at his kitchen table. After I drowned my pancakes in syrup, under the incredulous gaze of Edward who asked me multiple times if I really needed that much syrup, we began discussing our plans for the day.

"Well, you really should practice." He pointed out.

"What's plan B?" I muttered under my breath. I didn't want to practice. I didn't want to spend any time away from Edward. When I practiced he usually did other things.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing, love," I said quickly. That one word hung in the air. We needed to talk about what I had said last night, but I didn't know where to start.

Edward hesitated and looked at his fork, "Did you mean it? Last night, I mean. Did you mean it?"

"You mean when I said I love you?" He nodded, still not looking at me, "Of course, Edward. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Sure, I was a little hurt and angry when I said it, but it's true. I love you."

Edward finally looked up, his mouth open and quivering like he wanted to say something, "I—I can't…" he sighed and bit his lip.

"Hey," I leaned forward in my chair and caught his chin in my hand making him look at me, "I don't need to hear it now. I want to hear it, but I can wait."

"You're always waiting for me though." He sighed.

"I don't mind," I assured him. He pulled his chin out of my grasp and sat back in his chair looking out the window.

"You deserve to be with someone who won't make you wait."

"Good things come to those who wait, right? Well, you're my good thing."

Edward looked back at me. He gave a small nod, "So what are we going to do today. After your practice, that is."

I pouted when he mentioned practicing. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he were there with me. I just wouldn't let him leave to room.

"Fine," I relented, "but then what?"

Edward shrugged, "Wanna just stay in?"

Let me see. Do I want to spend hours with Edward's undivided attention and no risk that anyone will steal that attention from me? Fuck yes!

"Sounds great."

"Cool, well, if you want to start practicing, I'll clean this up." He got up from the table and took my plate. I remained at the table, watching him walk away. He had taken the apron off, allowing me a view of his wonderful chest while I ate. The apron!

"Oh Edward," I called, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Yeah?" He stuck his head out of the door.

"Maybe we could have a BBQ later today?" I said slyly.

Edward cocked an eyebrow, god I love when he does that, "I think I may have some steaks we can grill." He smiled at the look of glee mixed with lust that overcame my face. "But only if you practice," He called out from the kitchen.

And there was my motivation.

He was staring again. Not that I minded, Edward could stare whenever he wanted. But he had been staring a lot today. Every once in a while he would open his mouth to speak, hesitant, and then close his mouth and look away. One time he had turned his whole body towards me, stared for several seconds, and then turned back towards to TV.

I had several theories that I was bouncing around to explain his behaviour. First, he was possessed. As an avid horror fan, it popped into my mind first. At times he would be perfectly normal, and then he would act bizarre without any warning. Another theory was that while he was cleaning the kitchen, he caught sight of the burned pancake, or maybe it was a stain that wouldn't come out. Either way, something caused his neurotic-Edward mind to split, creating this completely alternate personality. This personality apparently liked to stare and was afraid to talk. I was thinking about calling him Gus. Don't know way, it just seemed appropriate. Finally, and much more likely, thought not nearly as fun or straightforward, was that Edward wanted to talk to me about something, but couldn't get up the nerve.

If it was the first, well, I had been ordained on the Internet five years ago as a joke. With the credentials, I'm sure I could figure something out. Otherwise, I could call the local church. Though, if Edward's head spun around, I wasn't sure I'd be able to continue the relationship. There are just some things you can't bounce back from.

Option two, multiple personalities. Simple. I'd find a psychiatrist and get them to fix him. If they couldn't fix him, Edward and I could continue our relationship, and Gus would just be that guy who stares at me. Maybe I'd leave the house when Gus was around.

I felt that I could handle options one or two, with a little adjustment. Three terrified me though. I couldn't find a way to talk him through it, if I didn't know what he wanted to talk about in the first place. And I couldn't come up with anything that he would want to talk about. At least nothing that he would be hesitant to discuss, anyway.

The unknown. That scared me.

I was becoming frustrated, and had to resist the urge to shake him whenever he looked at me. I wanted ask him what the problem was, I wanted to help him, but he wasn't letting me.

So he was staring. Again. He was staring again. How can one person stay so still and pensive? And does he ever fucking blink?

Aside from the unexplained staring and behaviour, the afternoon had been wonderful. We sat around watching TV and talking. Edward sat through the game with me, which was touching because, though he's never said it, I know he hates football. But he watched it—for me. Words cannot express how much I love this man.

And now we were watching a concert on TV. I had never heard of the composer, some French guy by the sound of his name, and his music was a little weird; some of it was traditionally beautiful while others sounded… well, weird. But Edward loved him and remained captivated by the performance. For the first time that day, I was the watcher and not the watchee.

Edward was leaned forward on the couch, arms resting on his knees and hands clasped. His beautiful face lit up whenever there was a part he enjoyed. And I noticed that when he really liked a piece he would close his eyes and let the music wash over him. I found myself enjoying the music, simply because it could elicit such intimate moments out of Edward.

When it was over, Edward turned to me, a peaceful smile on his face, "Are you ready for dinner?"

My face lit up, "Naked BQQing?" I asked, hopefully.

Edward blushed and shook his head, "not yet. My neighbours are home and I don't want them seeing…that…when they look outside."

My smile dropped into a pout, "well, what about inside then?"

"It only applies to BBQs. That's what the apron says. I'm sorry, but I didn't write it," Edward said with a smirk. I wanted to fill that smirk with the damned apron. Fucking tease. I'm definitely getting a sharpie now.

"I think I have some pasta I can make." I agreed, but grumbled the whole way to the kitchen. I had to make sure Edward knew how upset I was about missing Naked Grilling. That should be a cooking show! I would watch that. Nakedness, cooking, and the potential for some hilarious yet horrible burns, it would be the best show.

"Red sauce or white?" Edward asked as he started the water for the pasta.

"Red." I got some plates for us and opened a bottle of wine to let it breathe.

"So, um," Edward started. Finally, maybe he was going to tell me what had been bothering him all day, "are you going to stay or go home tonight?"

I hadn't been expecting that question, though maybe I should have. I hadn't even thought about later, I had just assumed that I would stay the night. Did he want me to stay?

"I hadn't thought about it," I answered truthfully. I didn't want to tell him that I wanted to stay. I didn't want to make him feel like he was obligated to invite me to stay. It had to be his idea.

Edward added the pasta into the water, "I only ask because what you've got on is the only thing you have to wear and you don't have anything to sleep in. If you want to stay we can go get some more clothes for you. Or you can wear mine."

"Well, love, I don't really wanna leave you. So if you're okay with letting me wear your clothes, then I'm fine." More than fine, I hoped that Edward's clothes smelled like him.

"Okay," Edward smiled. He went back to the pasta and pulled a string out, "wanna taste and see if it's done?"

"Like in 'Lady and the Tramp'?" I teased. Edward was sentimental, but he was very sensitive about it. Yet another thing I loved about him.

"Nope, cause I'm not going to be eating off the other end."

"Spoil sport," I muttered. I took a bite of the pasta, "Tastes good to me," I announced and then promptly dropped the rest of the string into Edward's hair.

He froze, then turned around to face me. The pasta noodle was hanging into his face, and one end was looped over his ear. I tried to look innocent, hoping he would think I was cute and let me off the hook, but I was beginning to think that I couldn't pull off that look as well as I thought.

"What was that for?" He asked, his voice deathly quiet. If I didn't know that Edward would never hurt me, I might've actually been a little scared of him at the moment.

"You wouldn't play with me," I said. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and waited to see what Edward would do.

"You wanna play?" Edward growled and I felt my cock twitch. He reached into the bowl and grabbed some pasta. "You asked for it." He threw a noodle at me, smacking me in the face before it fell to the ground. Then another noodle tangled itself in my hair and another caught my nose. Edward stepped back and admired his handy work.

"I thought you were going to do something else," I admitted.

"I know you did."

"You do realise, though, that I have to retaliate."

Edward nodded, his face completely serious, "Of course."

I raced past him until I reached the bowl of pasta. I grabbed a handful and smashed it into Edward's face. He growled again and grabbed my wrist as I tried to run away. I twisted my body to make him let me go, but my feet hit his and I tripped, toppling us both to the ground.

"See what you did?" He asked, pulling the pasta off his face but it had started to cool and stick together so he was having trouble. I simply couldn't resist. I nibbled a bit near his mouth, letting our lips brush the others.

"Still tastes fine to me," I whispered. I pulled the final noodles off, before attacking his lips again. He quickly opened his mouth and my tongue slipped in to taste him. I let my hands roam, touching, grasping, and scraping, until they rested on Edward's hips. I pulled him closer to me, and gasped into his mouth when he gave a small thrust against me. I was about to undo his pants when Edward stopped me. He pulled back, gasping for air.

"Jasper wait, I want to tell you something." I was horny and extremely frustrated but I waited, knowing that this was what he had wanted to tell me all day.

"Yes Edward?"

"I—I've been trying to find the right words to say this. I wanted to do it last night, but it didn't seem, well, right. And today. Today I tried to tell you but I couldn't. I didn't know what to say…" He hesitated. I cupped his cheek, hoping that it would be enough to give him the courage to continue.

He looked at me, and somehow I knew that what he would say next would change my life forever.

"I love you Jasper."

I didn't know how to express what I was feeling, so instead I pulled him down to me and kissed him with all the joy, passion, and love that I had. When we broke away I kissed his neck, whispering my love to him over and over again. And our dinner lay forgotten on the stove while we made promises we could only hope to keep.

A/N: And there you go! Edward told Jasper he loves him!

On that happy note, I won't be able to post another chapter next week. I'm moving to go to grad school at the end of the week and I still need to pack and get my documents in order. I'll try to post one the next week, but I can't guarantee anything. I need to figure out my classes, get a job, and adjust to a life in London coming from the US suburbs.

So I'll see you all in a couple weeks! ~AJ Kelly