A/N Hi. I used to write Twilight fan fiction ages ago but life got in the way. Just FYI in case you had me on your author alerts list and are no doubt wondering why and who the heck I am, lol.

Warnings ahead for Valentine's Day related fluff, silly nonsense, a little citrus and Canadian spelling. Rated M.

Big sappy thank you to my sweet friend JoVersify for helping me clean this up and make it presentable at the very last minute.

. . . . . .

Bella Gets Her Groove Back

. . . . . .

The traffic was horrendous. Bella tapped her brakes letting her car idle behind a truck with an obnoxious license plate tag.

"You're going to wreck your manicure," Angela said from the passenger seat.

Bella went cross-eyed looking down, where, sure enough, her pinkie finger was wedged between her teeth.

"Shit," she muttered. Putting her hand back on the steering wheel, she asked, "Did I screw up the polish?"

"No. You need to calm down though."

"I am calm."

Angela made a noise in her throat that stated disbelief.

"What are you so nervous about anyway? I guarantee those gorgeous pieces you bought are going to be a hit."

"I'm not nervous. I just want out of this traffic jam." She darted a glance behind her at the Victoria's Secret bag on her backseat and felt sweat pop up on the back of her neck.

"Eyes on the road, Bella!"

"It's not like we're going anywhere," Bella replied, dutifully turning her head.

"You still haven't told me how things escalated between you and Jasper to get to this point. I thought you had him stuck in the friend zone."

Bella fidgeted with the ancient air freshener hanging from her rearview mirror. It stopped smelling like anything but stale car months ago.

"I never said I was spending tonight with Jasper." She dared a glance at her long-time friend and wasn't surprised to see a confused expression cloud her face.

"Then who?"

"Edward."

Angela's mouth fell open and stayed that way.

Frowning, feeling self-conscious, Bella snapped, "Can you close your mouth? I can smell the McDonald's greasy hashbrown you devoured earlier and it's not super pleasant."

Angela complied to the point Bella heard her teeth click.

Cupping her hand over her mouth, Angela trapped her breath to sniff. "It can't be that bad, is it? Do you have gum?"

"There's some Tic-Tacs in the glove compartment."

Angela reached forward and rummaged through the embarrassing mess of Kleenex packs, stray tampons, multiple Chapstick's, drool-crusted dog toys and unused poop bags without batting an eye. "Anyway, serves you right if my breath stinks up your air. Like seriously, Bella. What the hell? Edward? As in Edward Masen? Jasper's stepbrother?"

"Yes."

Snagging the Tic-Tacs, Angela popped the lid and discovered they'd solidified into one solid lump. "Do I want to know how long these have been in here?"

"Probably not."

Sighing, she whacked the container against the dashboard to break them up. "Want one?"

Bella shook her head. Angela settled back in her seat, sucking noisily. "Tic-Tacs don't expire, do they?"

"Are you going to say anything about my plans tonight being with Edward?"

"I'm processing. I was sure it was Jasper. And I mean, he's such a catch."

"I'm not looking for a catch, Ang," Bella says softly. "I had my catch. He's gone. I just want someone to have fun with occasionally. Jasper's an amazing guy, but he's looking for someone who wants a relationship."

From her periphery she sees Angela frown. "And you don't? C'mon, Bella. You can't stay stuck forever. He'd want you to move on, you know. Be happy."

"Really, Ang? You make it sound like he's dead and not fucking his new twenty-two-year-old wife on their all-inclusive honeymoon in Bali."

"I just meant…"

Bella held up her hand. "Stop. Don't even. I get you and Ben have weathered infidelity and come out the other side, and I'm happy for you guys, I really am. But I chose different, okay?" She softened her tone. "I'm fine with being divorced and single. You get that right?"

Staring down at the Tic-Tacs in her hand, Angela sighed. "Yeah, I do. And I'm sorry I said that. You just threw me. Edward freaking Masen? He's like the hottest bachelor in town, and I didn't even know you knew him."

The traffic finally started moving again. Eager to get home, Bella hit the gas and got closer to the obnoxious license plate.

"Look at this guy," she muttered under her breath, then sighed. "We met at Rose and Emmett's baby shower. Briefly. Then we bumped into each other at Aro's café."

"I'd kill for a cappuccino right now," Angela stated, then quickly added, "Sorry, continue."

"We were both getting our coffees to go and ended up standing outside talking for a bit. And since Aro was in the process of decorating for Valentine's Day, a month early no less…"

Angela laughed. "Let me guess, Caius was humouring him with that grumpy look he gets but secretly loving it."

Bella smiled, remembering. "Of course, he was."

"God, those two are just the cutest."

"Anyway, we bonded a bit on our mutual disdain for the holiday and parted ways. I admit he's nice to look at and successful, so it was fun to talk to him, but it felt like a one-off. And then…"

She had Angela's attention, finally. "And then what?"

"He bought the place two houses down from mine. The old craftsman with the over-run yard?"

"Really? Holy cow."

"I was walking Crapper last week and there he was, in the driveway with a U-haul."

Angela gaped at her.

"So, long story short, we've had a few conversations since. He jogs. He sometimes walks with me if I'm out with Crapper. I brought him a plant as a housewarming gift."

She glanced over again. "He recently had a pool table delivered. I mentioned I haven't played pool in ages and he…" She finished the last part in a rush that blurs her words together, "invited me over to play pool on Valentine's night since we're both boycotting all things romance."

One more glance and she watched Angela's expression morph from rapt interest to confused amusement.

"Eyes on the road, Bella, jeez!"

Bella turned back. "Sorry."

Angela slumped in her seat, adjusting her seatbelt. "Okay," she said after a few seconds that felt like an hour. "Let me see if I understand this. You guys had an unplanned coffee date. He's now your neighbour. A hot as hell Mister Fix-it neighbour. He sometimes tags along when you walk Cooper." She emphasizes the name. "Tell me he knows your dog's real name is Cooper, not Crapper?"

Bella shrugged and Angela shook her head. "Whatever. Back to Edward. So, after all that, you guys are going to… play pool tonight?"

Bella nodded.

"Is that a new euphemism for doing the nasty? I haven't heard that one before."

"It's not a euphemism."

Angela looked back at the Victoria's Secret bag again. "I get the manicure. But the sexy lingerie? For a non-romantic Valentine's Day boycott game of pool? I'm lost."

"It's not lingerie. It's matching bras and underwear."

"It's a few scraps of black lace is what it is!"

Biting her cheek, Bella signals to get into the right lane for her turn-off. "It's too much, right? Like, obvious. It screams obvious, doesn't it?"

"Don't you want it to be obvious? Because you are being vague, but what I'm understanding here is you are out to seduce Mr. Masen. Or am I wrong?"

Bella squirmed and merged into her turn-off. "Yes?"

"Why are you phrasing that like a question?"

"Because I honestly don't know what the hell I'm doing. I guess I'm hoping things will advance beyond playing pool and hanging out. But I'm not sure if they will. It seems like he's attracted to me. But I could be reading it wrong." She waves toward the back seat. "I wanted to be prepared. I've been wearing sports bras and cotton underwear for the last year."

She exhaled and wondered if she was going to hyper-ventilate. "I do not know how to seduce a guy! This is the best I could come up with. But now you have me freaking out. If he overlooks my fumbling and dumbness and still somehow wants to sleep with me, one look at that over-the-top underwear will…"

"Will what? Have him raging hard and ready to jump you? Have him counting his lucky stars that someone as gorgeous as you wants to have sex with him?"

Bella blushed. "Stop. I'm thirty-two. I haven't been to the gym in months. I eat too many Oreos. I should've bought Spanx!"

Angela laughed. "Uh, yeah, don't do that. Spanx are utilitarian only."

As she took a right turn, Bella groaned. "I should wear sweatpants and grannie panties and bring a six-pack of beer. I never should've gotten a manicure. He invited me as a friend. What am I thinking?"

Opening her mouth like she was about to respond, Angela instead went silent, crossing her legs and sitting back. Bella took the next turn aggressively and tried not to take Angela's silence as agreement. Ever since her separation from he-who-shall-not-be-named, she'd subsisted on work and more work. Starting her own business had helped. Love, romance, even sex, so far from her mind they might as well not exist. But lately? Ever since meeting Edward, her hormones had come to life, libido shaking off a thick layer of dust and raring to go.

She knew it wasn't wrong to want human connection, and yeah, she missed sex. Still, was hooking up with her new neighbour, provided he was even interested, a smart thing to do? She didn't want a relationship. Not a real one with commitment and dating anyway. She wanted someone to hang out with from time to time and screw her brains out. But maybe she was aiming too high? Edward Masen was ridiculously attractive, smart, charming, funny. She didn't know him that well, but what she did know she liked, a lot.

Turning down Angela's street, Bella pulled up in front of her house and put the car in park. Ben's car was in the driveway and she didn't miss the small smile gracing Angela's features when she saw it.

"What's the protocol for casual sex in a pandemic anyway? Do you share your last STD test results and your last Covid test results? Proof of vaccination?"

"Really, Ang? That's where your mind goes?"

Angela undid her seatbelt and turned sideways to face her. "Okay. Look. Here's the thing. I never quite know what to say to you when you get all crazy in the head like this."

"Ugh, I knew it. This is crazy, isn't it?"

Rolling her eyes, Angela huffed an exasperated breath. "That's not what I mean. I'm talking about your insecurities. You are a strong, capable, beautiful woman. Okay, your idiot ex screwed around on you. That's on him. Not on you. You know this right?"

"I guess."

"The fact you don't answer yes is why I'm going to tell you to go for it. Go home. Put on that lingerie. March your ass over to Edward's and get your groove back!"

Bella couldn't help it. She laughed, shaking her head. "My name is Bella, not Stella."

Angela grinned back, adjusting her glasses. "Even if he does see you as a friend right now, I guarantee he'll stop thinking that way the second you let him know you want some action." She waggled her eyebrows, earning another laugh, before turning and getting out of the car. She leaned in once more. "Go get him, girl," she drawled. "Don't forget to bring condoms." She winked, closed the door and headed toward her house. Bella watched as Ben opened the door, and smiled when he saw Angela.

For a second, Bella's heart lurched, remembering a time when someone used to look at her that way, then put the car back in drive and pulled out into the street.

"Damn it," she muttered. "Now I have to go buy condoms."

. . . . .

Twenty minutes later in the Shopper's Drug Mart, in an area of the city she rarely frequented, Bella stared at the shelves stocked with condoms, confused. She'd never bought condoms before. Her few sexual encounters, all four of them, including her ex, had always provided them. She never took any interest in the brand, rarely ever saw the packages, and had given them little thought beyond her insistence they get used.

She was alone in the aisle for the moment, but she knew that wouldn't last long. Feeling sweat under her arms and worried her deodorant had to be close to failing, Bella grabbed the nearest box and tossed it in her basket. It was blue, shiny. It said ribbed for her pleasure. Fuck it, she deserved that, right? She bit her lip and stared at the box. Should she be buying magnum's, extra-large or whatever? Was it insulting to show up with regular-sized condoms?

Hearing voices nearing, Bella spun around and faced the opposite way. Great, she thought. Hemorrhoid treatments, and diarrhea meds. Well, that's better than condoms, right? She glanced down as another customer approached and shifted her basket to her other side. The box stood out like a shiny beacon in the otherwise empty space. A silhouetted couple on the right corner seemed ready to lock lips. Reaching out to the shelf in front of her, she grabbed the first thing her hand encountered and tossed it on top of the condoms before darting out of the aisle. In the next aisle, she grabbed a box of tampons wanting to bury the damn condom box. She didn't need tampons. She had a new box at home. But you can never have too many, she told herself, before taking a deep breath and whispering, "stop stalling and being spineless. You are a grown woman taking care of her sexual health. Just go."

She needed to get home and feed Crapper. She wanted time to take a shower and shave her legs. It'd been a while. She might need a weed-whacker. She quickly ran down the next aisle and snagged some new razors just in case her old one had rusted from disuse and forced herself to the checkout. She got in line, annoyed there were so many people waiting for the self-serve, and tried to relax.

Pinching the bridge of her nose to better secure her mask, grateful for the extra anonymity, she was vaguely aware of someone coming up behind her.

"Bella?"

Shit. She turned, slowly, and yep, she knew that voice. Edward freaking Masen. In the flesh. Hair disheveled, piercing green eyes, a jawline so perfect even the mask couldn't hide it.

Heat exploded in her face. She tugged her mask higher. Trying to cover the blush she knew was streaking her cheeks in red.

She saw the smile even behind the mask. Hard not to. The pleats stretched and his amazing cheekbones lifted. "I thought that was you."

"Oh, hi." Her voice was too high. She cleared her throat gently, trying not to be obvious about it; coughing was the new taboo in the pandemic world. "How are you?"

"Good," he answered. "Just grabbing a couple of things to stock the medicine cabinet I installed yesterday in the master bathroom." He moved as if to lift the basket he was carrying as evidence, then glanced down and quickly shifted it behind him out of her sight. His brow furrowed, creating a few lines that made an appearance and then rapidly vanished. "Uh, you know. Some Tylenol, first aid stuff, that kind of… things. I mean, those kinds of things. You know, stocking up," he repeated.

"Oh, yeah. Good to stock up," Bella replied. An awkward silence stretched out as Bella tried to gauge the sudden nervous air about him. He shuffled the basket again, still holding it behind him.

Suddenly remembering her own basket, she glanced down trying not to be obvious, ready to shift it behind her back as well if needed. Too late she realized Edward was also looking down. Luckily the box of tampons was covering the condom box. Not so lucky, right beside the tampons was the item she'd randomly grabbed from the opposite side of the condom aisle. Imodium. Soft gels. Quick-relief, she read. Was it her imagination or did the letters of those words glow like neon off the box?

"I am stocking up, too," she said, her tone of voice hitting a higher shakier octave. "Always smart to pre-plan for any eventuality." Her internal cringe meter hit the red zone as she heard herself add, "If the toilet paper drama of Twenty-Twenty taught us anything, it'd be the value of hoarding items just in case, even if you don't need them today. Or probably any time soon."

Oh, my god, shut up already, she thought.

Edward looked away, suddenly interested in a row of batteries. "You're right. I should probably get some of these for the smoke detectors. You can't have too many batteries, right?"

Bella swallowed and tried to think what to say, her brain screaming, he thinks you have your period and diarrhea! Abort all plans. Abort! He's never going to have sex with you now!

"Um, yeah?" It came out like a question. She didn't know what he'd just said. Zero clue.

"Next customer. Miss? That's you. Number four is open."

Bella spun around. "Oh, okay, thanks." She told the woman waving her forward. She turned back to find Edward adding multiple packs of batteries to his basket, somehow still managing to keep it mostly behind him. She gestured to the checkout. "Uh, I'm up, so…"

"Oh, yeah, go ahead."

"Sir? You can also come up. Number five is open now."

Edward nodded then finally looked back at Bella. His eyes seemed to take on a softer glow. "Ladies first," he said, mask shifting again, eyes crinkling in the corners. Bella felt a strange shiver. His tone had lowered, and there was an appealing edge to it. He looked less flustered and more amused.

She turned and headed for her checkout, cheeks still burning, a sudden urge to laugh getting hard to repress. She bit her cheek and started scanning her items, grateful for the privacy screen erected to give some protection between customers. Still, she was very aware of Edward beside her. To the point when she grabbed the condom box, she was so nervous she double scanned.

Nope, she thought. Not fixing that. Small price to pay. She tapped her credit card, tossed everything into a shopping bag, paused for a moment, then doubled the bag.

She was faster than Edward so she took her purchases and scurried by him and out the exit.

She'd parked upfront so she was able to get to her car and stash her purchases in the back seat. Seeing the Victoria's Secret bag, she let out a manic snort that quickly turned into a giggle. Somehow, she contained it as she closed the door and spun around just in time to see Edward come out the door.

"Hey," he said, removing his mask. Bella did the same, even though she knew she'd have mask lines grooved into her cheeks, and pulled her keys out of her pocket.

"Are we still on for tonight?" he asked. He pulled his keys out too and his car chirped somewhere behind her.

Bella wondered if her purchases were making him reconsider. Was he worried she was sick? These days, no one wants visitors whose health isn't top-notch.

Was he giving her an out? For a split second, her brain screamed, take the out! You are not a seductive siren. You are Bella Swan. Awkward AF. But her mouth said, "Um, well, yes. I mean unless something has come up and you need to back out?"

Edward grinned. "Not a chance. I've been looking forward to kicking your cute butt at pool all week. Besides, we can't boycott Valentines alone. Strength in numbers, you know?"

Bella felt a new flush of heat. Had he honestly said her butt was cute? Should she be flattered or insulted? "Okay then. I'll see you at seven?"

"See you then," he said, heading for his car. "Oh, and Bella?" he stopped and leveled her with a sincere look. "I'm looking forward to it." He gave her another quick but lethal smile, those lips curving in a way that should be illegal before he resumed walking.

Jumping into the driver's seat, Bella resisted the urge to thump her forehead against her steering wheel, gasping out another small laugh. Good grief, she thought. Could that have been more awkward? What the hell were the odds?

Wasting time plugging in her phone even though it was at eighty percent charged, Bella surreptitiously watched Edward pull his sleek, expensive car out of the parking lot before she started her own.

She tried to tell herself it could've been worse. He could've seen the condoms. She gave up on trying not to laugh, put her head on her steering wheel and giggled like a highly embarrassed maniac.

…

Back home, Bella took Crapper for a quick walk. At eight years old, her sweet black lab had a muzzle streaked with white, arthritis in his hips, but a spirit that remained convinced he was a puppy. She kissed his sweet face when they got back home, fed him and gave him one of his favourite bones as a treat, rushing to get in the shower.

An hour later, she stared at herself in the mirror and tried to be objective. She'd decided the skimpy black lace was indeed too much. Especially after the disastrous events at the pharmacy. Luckily, she'd splurged and also bought herself two other sets. One in pale lavender and another in a muted shade of green. Everyday type undies, still pretty and a step up from what she usually wore. She'd chosen the lavender set and liked that it didn't contrast too violently with her ivory skin. It had just enough push-up on the bra to put her boobs in a good place. The underwear skimmed her hips, giving them a nice shape, and, bonus, they stayed put despite having a stomach that hadn't been flat since…well, a long while. High school maybe. She made a face at the dimples in her thighs under her butt cheeks.

"Ugh, stop," she snapped at her reflection. "You aren't perfect. So what? Nobody is. Even he won't be perfect."

She rolled her eyes because he probably was.

Shaking her head, half-disgusted at the nervous butterflies tumbling in her stomach, Bella grabbed her favourite jeans and hid her thighs. At least these jeans made her butt look great. She frowned, remembering he'd said her butt was cute. She didn't want to hear that. She wanted him to think her ass looked amazing, biteable.

She snorted and snagged a simple black v-neck t-shirt that showed a little cleavage. Bra enhanced cleavage, but that was okay. The effect was nice.

Her alarm went off on her phone, warning her it was six-forty-five. She had fifteen minutes to get herself out the door. She stalled, running a brush through the hair she'd taken extra time with, giving her make-up a quick once over. Subtle, nothing crazy, and told herself it was time to go. Her feet didn't move.

She took a deep breath and looked around. This house was her very own and she was proud of it. She'd painted these walls. Every inch of it was decorated in the styles she liked. Not one part of it reminded her of her ex-husband. She took another deep breath. She had a choice. Stay frozen or move forward. It was time for the latter.

Whatever happened tonight. Sex. No sex. It didn't matter. What mattered was her, finding a way out of a painful past. And Angela was right–getting her groove back. This was a start.

She left her bedroom, gave Cooper a scratch behind his ear, grabbed the six-pack of beer she'd bought and locked the door behind her.

. . . . .

An hour later, Bella sank her last shot and gave Edward a cocky grin.

"I feel like I've been bamboozled," he said.

"Bamboozled? Really? How old are you exactly?"

"One hundred and seventeen."

Bella laughed.

"I look good for my age, right? Pretty sure I can pass for thirty-two."

"When you aren't using words like bamboozled, I'm sure you could," she said, grabbing her half-finished beer and taking a sip.

It'd been like this the entire hour she'd been here. They'd fallen into an easy banter, chatting about multiple topics, even humorously upping the ante on their games by betting with quarters.

"I told you I could play pool. So how exactly did I bamboozle you?"

"You did say you could play. You didn't say you were a shark. You've kicked my ass three times in forty minutes, and took all my quarters."

Bella grinned. "In your defence, you did say you were rusty," she reminded him.

"Beautiful and a gracious winner. Thank you for giving me an out. But here's the thing. Even when I did play a lot, I was never as good as you are."

Warmth filled her cheeks. She shook her head and gestured to the table, not knowing how to reply to those kinds of compliments. "Do you want to try again? I can't keep this winning streak up indefinitely."

Edward shook his head and put his pool cue on the table. "I think I need a break. My ego can only take so much."

Bella laid her cue beside his, feeling oddly calm. She could blame it on the fact she was nearly finished with her third beer, but she knew that wasn't it. Edward had a way about him. Charming and easygoing, he exuded great energy she couldn't help embracing. Her attraction to him was growing by the minute. He'd been a complete gentleman though, much to her frustration. She bit her lip, trying to figure him out. Was there a mutual attraction here? He'd called her beautiful just a second ago, but was that polite flattery or something more?

She glanced at him and noticed he'd gone still. His gaze seemed pointed at her mouth. Seeing she was watching him, he cleared his throat and looked away. She patted her mouth quickly hoping her lip gloss wasn't smeared. Is that why he was staring? It felt fine.

"Do you want to pick out the next record?" he asked. He gestured to the extensive collection sitting on a shelf above a record player straight out of the eighties. He'd told her it belonged to his dad, and it was clear he was attached to it.

"Are all of these records yours?" She asked. She moved to the collection and scanned the neat rows. His taste was expansive. She held up a Britney Spears original with an arched eyebrow.

He grinned. "All mine. You aren't mocking me, are you? Britney is awesome."

"Do I sense an unrequited crush?"

He held up a hand, fingers pinched to indicate a little.

Laughing, she pulled another, its cover aged and well-loved. Bachman-Turner Overdrive. "BTO? Wow. My dad listened to this band all the time." She embraced the memory and slid the album back carefully to slide out another. Otis Redding. She held it out to Edward and he looked surprised.

"Nice choice," he commented.

"Pure nostalgia," she said.

"Now who's old?"

"Touche," she said with a laugh. "Though I'd argue Otis Redding is a legend and his music isn't generational."

"No argument there," he replied.

She moved back to the pool table and leaned against it.

"The house looks amazing by the way. I can't believe how much you've accomplished already."

He put the needle down on the record and picked up his beer. "Thanks. This floor didn't need much to be honest. Other than the kitchen which will be a complete gut job, these main rooms just needed some plaster and paint. Other than that, I just moved in furniture and unpacked some boxes."

Bella nodded, taking in the room with its comfy couch and overstuffed chairs.

"The upstairs. That's the project. It's a mess. I'd show it to you, but I yanked down walls up there. Emmett came in the other day and helped, luckily. Anyway, right now I'm sleeping on a mattress in a corner of what will eventually be the master bedroom but is currently a big mess."

Bella swallowed, trying not to think about the mattress on the floor and how much she wanted to be in it with him.

"What if I said I wanted to see it?" She was surprised when the question came out of her mouth. Her teeth worried her lip as she tried to figure out if he could read between those lines.

She picked at the label on her beer, internally warring with herself. Should she tell him outright she was attracted to him? Or keep flirting and hope he got the picture?

When he stayed silent, she looked up. He was very still, caught in the act of lifting his beer as though he was going to take a drink but hadn't completed the action. God, he looked so good. One hand tucked in his pocket, a faded t-shirt hugging his biceps, skin tan, taut, forearms dusted in hair. She bit harder at her lip when she saw the way his hand wrapped around the bottle. They were strong, a little rough from all the work he'd been doing. She couldn't help imagining those hands on her skin, the little bite of roughness the calluses would add.

She looked away from his hands and saw him watching her. His expression was one of concentration, like he was studying and learning. He put his beer down and crossed the room to stand in front of her. Her breath caught when he looked down at her. His green eyes seemed darker in this dimmer light. Or maybe it was his mood. He put his arm out and rested his hand on the side of the pool table, inches from her hip. Her skin tingled like he'd touched her there when he hadn't.

"Do you want to see upstairs?" he asked. This close his breath was warm and clean, tinged lightly with malt. Her fingers itched to reach up and touch the tiny bit of stubble on his cheeks and chin. A frisson of electricity skipped down her spine, pooled low in her abdomen with a sudden thought of how that stubble would feel on the inside of her thighs. Would he do that for her? Kiss her thighs? Move higher. Kiss between her legs? Her ex had never done that…

"Bella?"

Realizing she'd left him hanging on a question, she tried to get her wits about her. She looked at his mouth and wondered if it was possible to sustain this much need. She'd never been this turned on before by absolutely nothing. "Yeah?" she asked because she couldn't remember the question or what they'd been talking about.

He closed his eyes for a split second and inhaled in a ragged way. When he opened them it was worse, like his stare pinned her down.

"You're making it really hard to stick to my plan, Bella."

"Plan?"

"Yeah."

"What plan?"

"The plan to play some pool, listen to some music. I have food in the kitchen for us. Nothing great. Frozen pizza. Guacamole and chips." His eyes moved from hers to her lips, watching as she licked them.

"Oh? That sounds…" She drifted off, not sure how that sounded, if she was being honest. Boring?

"You're right. It does sound boring."

Shit. Had she said that out loud?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean, that's actually thoughtful. I'm not really hungry though," she told him.

His jaw ticked and she watched it, fascinated. She definitely didn't want guacamole.

"What do you want, Bella?" The emphasis on do made her think she might have spoken out loud again. She felt a bit drunk, but her nerves were making a comeback. She dug for bravery and came up lacking.

"What do you want?" she said stupidly, knowing this wasn't her being a strong independent woman.

"I want you to stop biting your lip because you're making it damn near impossible for me to keep being a gentleman and keep to our plan to hang out as friends in defiance of everything hearts and flowers and commercialized holidays that make single people feel like shit about themselves." He reached up and cupped her jaw, the first bit of physical contact. Her nerve endings stood up under his palm and sang hallelujah. When his thumb touched her lip, she let go of the clamp of her teeth and moaned. It was a little moan, but it was audible. She didn't care.

His eyes closed again, and it clicked in her mind, a little light bulb going off, creating an understanding of why he kept doing it. He was striving for control. She needed him to be uncontrolled. In direct contrast to that wish, he tried to take a step back, hand falling away and back to his side. It was instinctual to reach out and grab a handful of his t-shirt to keep him close. The cotton was soft and warm, the rigid muscles her knuckles grazed underneath warmer and not soft at all.

She found her nerve, and when she started to speak, he opened his eyes and reclaimed the small bit of distance he'd put between them and then some. "What if I still want to boycott hearts and flowers and romance and commercialized holidays, but not as friends? What if I want you to show me upstairs but that I don't care about seeing the construction, I just want to have sex with you on that mattress you said you're sleeping on?"

She half expected arguing so when he kissed her, it took a second for her to get past the surprise. Only a second. One split second of shock and then her entire body woke up and her arms came up around his neck. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and the other found the small of her back as his chest connected with hers. He stole her air. Or maybe she gave it to him. It didn't matter. Who needed to breathe when his firm lips were on hers? His taste was something indefinable and hot, his tongue wicked, licking soft at her lower lip. He took full advantage of her gasp of pleasure, deepening the kiss just long enough to make her want more. She went up on tiptoes. The pool table ledge dug into her ass painfully, but she didn't care. Maybe he did, though how he knew made no sense. His arms moved, hands coming down to her waist, spanning under her ribs. It felt so good. She wanted her shirt gone, nothing between them.

She got dizzy fast and realized she was moving up, feet leaving the floor. Her butt landed on the pool table, Edward wedging his way between her splayed legs.

Hands landed again on her back, helping her get closer. She drew in air that tasted like him, before his lips were back, the kiss getting deeper. She dug her freshly manicured nails into his biceps. He made a noise like a hiss but if she hurt him, he didn't complain. He tugged at her shirt, freed the hem from her waistband and she didn't complain when his hands went underneath.

Yes, strong hands. The definite bite of rougher skin, so warm she shivered all over. Who knew her skin was this sensitive? Not her. She felt it everywhere. As he moved up her spine and found her bra strap, she wanted to chant yes, yes, but he was still kissing her and she didn't want that to stop. She wanted to inhale him. She bit his bottom lip gently and he groaned, pulling back, making her whimper as cool air rushed between them. It got cooler when he pulled her shirt free of her jeans all the way and tugged it up. Her arms came up in instant compliance and the shirt landed in a heap beside her.

"Jesus, you're gorgeous," he told her, breathless.

She wasn't sure if it was the words or the breathless, appreciative way he said it, but it made her want more. He complied, pulling away slightly to roll his shirt up and over his head, baring his outrageous abs. She put her hands on him, letting her palms learn the dips and curves of his muscles. He didn't let her do it long enough, moving forward, kissing her again, grabbing the curves of her ass, pulling her closer. She almost slid off the pool table.

"Upstairs," she moaned. Hot as the idea of pool table sex might seem, the reality was her back was starting to hurt and if more clothing came off, friction burn was in her future.

He lifted her and she cried out in surprise.

"Legs around my waist," he told her, and then they were moving. She thought he'd put her down when they reached the stairs. Instead, he braced her briefly against the wall, stopping long enough to scatter kisses over her neck and the tops of her breasts, then he was moving again, taking her up the steps like her weight was negligible.

Somehow, he didn't trip over any of the things at the top of the landing. Things she barely registered between kisses on her mouth, her neck, the tight grip of his hands, one on her waist the other on her left butt cheek. Paint cans, a folded step ladder, a shop vac, a toolbox.

Overhead lights showed wall frames, electrical wiring, bare studs and rough subfloors, and then the mattress. Tousled sheets, two plump pillows, a comforter in pale gray…

He hit the bed with his knees, barely jarring her as he laid her down. His hands went straight for the waistband of her jeans. The zipper coming down sounded loud in the empty space. So did her heavy breathing. And his.

He stopped when the zipper was down. "Do you want this?"

She'd been so consumed watching him undo her pants, the electric sight of his strong fingers making short work of the button and zipper, the brief feeling of his hand being so close to where she desperately needed to be touched, she had to look up at his face and try to get her bearings.

"What?"

"I need you to tell me you want this. Straight up consent, Bella."

Everything in her seemed to melt. She reached up and ran her fingers over his bottom lip, red and full from the small bite and the amount of kissing they'd done. He was watching her, waiting. He looked impatient, yet the way he held himself still spoke to a level of perfect control. It was a contrast to the lack of control she felt. If she said no, she was safe. She knew that as certainly as she knew he was hoping that wouldn't be her answer. She liked him even more for asking.

"Yes, I want this," she answered. She smiled, curling her mouth in a half twist, letting her fingers slip down from his lip to his neck to his chest then lower, past the waist of his jeans to the evidence that proved her right. Her fingers paused just before touching him. "Do you want this?"

"Fuck yes," he growled without a second of hesitation.

She laughed and let her hand cup the jutted curve distending his jeans. She wondered if it hurt being that confined.

He groaned and pushed against her touch one time, then grabbed her hand and put it up over her head. He put his other hand on her chest and trailed it from the top of her collarbones to the tip of her left breast. Her nipple hurt it was so tight, and when he caressed it with his thumb in a back and forth sweep, her back came off the bed, arching into the sensation that nearly made her cry out despite the material still covering her.

She lost the ability to think coherently. Somehow her bra came off and his mouth replaced his hands. Not to be idle though. One delved into the space he'd created by undoing her jeans and unerringly slipped under the lavender underwear. The other gripped the denim at the waist to stretch and make room. When his hand cupped her, she had the slightest second of worry that she was somehow too wet, too ready, but his deep guttural groan sounded like pure male approval. Weirdly, it didn't matter he'd never touched her before because he seemed to know exactly what she wanted. The perfect pressure against her clit, dipping lower to bring her wetness up, the best kind of rocking, circling, and oh, my god, yes, right there, please.

She wanted more though and he seemed to know that, too. Her pants came off, his too. He was every bit as gorgeous as she'd known he would be. A damn work of art. She had a moment's pang when his underwear joined his jeans beside the mattress. She should've maybe bought the magnums?

Oh, no, the condoms, she remembered, were still in her purse that was still downstairs.

He was kissing her stomach, and she had to try to gather her wits, that bite of stubble and his warm mouth making her brain fog and lose focus.

"Condom?" she managed to whisper at the tail end of a moan when his mouth touched her left hip.

He nodded. "I got you, baby. Hold on."

He left the bed and the loss of his heat left her covered in goosebumps and feeling a bit self-conscious. It seemed bright in the room and she realized a floor lamp was on in the corner, spotlighting her. She reached for the sheet tangled under her, but before she could get it free and use it as cover, Edward was back, a Shopper's Drug Mart bag in his hands.

"Don't even think about covering a single inch of your body," he said, huskily, glaring at her searching hand. She stopped and watched him upend the bag, plastic crinkling, an adorable frown wrinkling his brow. An odd assortment of batteries, Tylenol, and Listerine breath strips tumbled out, along with a familiar blue box.

"Wait. That's…" For a second her brain tried to make sense of how the condoms she bought ended up in Edward's pharmacy haul.

And then it clicked. As Edward pushed everything off the bed but the condoms, she met his suddenly sheepish-looking expression.

"Stocking up the medicine cabinet?" she asked.

"Yeah. Look, I swear I wasn't planning this. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't hoping but…"

A choked giggle slid out of her mouth. She shook her head, trying not to outright laugh. "I, um, bought some as well. The same brand, actually. They're downstairs in my purse."

He grinned. "Great minds think alike?"

She reached for the box, pulled it open and secured one of the foil packets, holding it out to him.

He leaned in and kissed her, whispering against her mouth, "You are full of surprises."

She did laugh then. "Clearly not that surprising, considering you bought these."

"Like I said. Hopeful, but not expectant."

She grew serious, reached out and put her hand on his chest. "I don't…" she took a deep breath. "I'm not looking for anything, Edward. Relationship-wise, I mean. I'm attracted to you. I want you. I want this, I just don't want entanglement."

"Yeah. I get it," he said. "We're two consenting adults here, Bella. I know where you're at in your life. And you know where I'm at in mine."

"So, no strings," she clarified. He took the packet out of her hand and in one quick move dropped it beside them, gripped her hips, and tugged her closer. He moved between her legs, picked up the condom, ripped the plastic covering and put it on.

Watching him do that was fun. A lot of fun. So much fun her stomach muscles clenched and her lungs got all tight in a good way.

"No strings, he replied, covering her body with his, moving in the most perfect, economical way, taking the last of her breath as he joined their bodies.

It felt so good she trembled, arching to give him more access, to bring him deeper despite the slight sting because it had been so damn long.

He waited like he knew, dropping the slowest, sweetest kiss on her mouth, drugging her so that when he started to move she wanted it so much the slight burn of the stretching to accommodate him turned to a delicious ache, spreading from where he moved inside her to all over her body.

His hands found the curve of her hips, angled her so that it was even more perfect, changed his thrusts to a tempo that incorporated the perfect pressure right where she needed it.

Her mouth fell open in an 'Oh', her hands moved over his back. She couldn't get close enough it was so good.

Faster, and yes, and right there, and please don't stop, turned into a moan of sheer bliss as she came so hard she saw stars. She heard his groan of approval, his guttural 'yes' as he quickly followed her over the edge, sweat breaking out over his back as he trembled above her, keeping his weight from crushing her though she wouldn't have cared if he did.

He slowed, and she lifted her head from the pillow to press her lips to his pressed tight eyelids and then to the bridge of his nose. He huffed a breath and laughed, a low choked sound.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"Yes," she answered. "I second that."

He moved away, a slightly awkward shuffle as they untangled limbs. Her muscles felt like rubber. When he collapsed beside her, she missed his warmth and curled against his side. He smelled like sweat and sex and her. That was… nice.

He said something about needing to get rid of the condom but she was tired and relaxed. He moved and then she felt the sheet come up and cover them both.

"Will you stay?" he asked.

She nodded. "For a bit. I don't want to leave Cooper alone all night though."

She felt a strange sensation come over her at the thought of leaving this warm mattress. His sheets were really soft. It'd be cold and weird to walk home after this.

"I could come with you. Back to your place?"

She was quiet for a minute, contemplating.

"We have a lot of condoms," he pointed out.

She smiled slightly against his skin. He had a point. And she liked the way his hand was stroking oh-so-lightly over her back, skimming lower with each pass.

"No strings though, right?"

"No strings, Bella."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

. . . . . .

A/N Just a reminder this is a one-shot. I wont be continuing it. I purposely stayed vague so you can imagine the ending of your choice. Thank you so much for reading. Its appreciated more than I can convey. If you were around when I was actively writing back in the day, please say hi. I promise I've missed you.