A/N: Thanks to everyone who sent so many messages of concern regarding the mass shooting at my work. Thankfully, I was at TFMU this past weekend, so I wasn't there. My heart goes out to all of the victim's families.

10

Everything afterward felt effortless. One night spent together in his apartment, and even without words, we felt close. There were moments in life that felt as natural as breathing, and every moment spent with him passed like this.

Why couldn't I have met someone like this sooner? How different would my life be if someone like Edward found me when I most needed it? Even as a friend, he supported me like something closer. After our first dinner together, eating with each other had become our staple thing. Often after work, I found myself going to his apartment to have him cook for me and enjoy the night.

This had been our lives for the past few weeks. Since our first night of pasta, he had made fresh pizzas, salads, Asian dishes, and tons of exploratory stuff that he claimed he had never tried before. Whatever he made, I tried eagerly and always teased that it was far better than the microwave dishes I would have made for myself. Truly, I didn't want him to know just how much I looked forward to these nights. Eating with him was one of the things that kept me in town.

He was one of the things that kept me in town. The main thing actually.

Tonight, he had told me that he would try another "exploratory" dish—something he hadn't tried to make before for anyone else. It was silly, but knowing this made me feel special. I was sharing something with him that no one else had shared with him before. As soon as he told me about this, this morning, I couldn't wipe the smile from my face. It tugged constantly at my lips until my cheeks ached.

The few customers who saw me throughout the day probably wondered how I could seem so happy at work. As I dusted shelves and unboxed volumes of books, I smiled and seemed absolutely lovesick. I couldn't hide the way he made me feel or how happy I was.

This was what happiness felt like: waking up every day with excitement for the hours ahead and not wanting to go to sleep at night because your reality was far better than anything you could dream. I slipped out of bed as soon as my eyes opened instead of lying there filled with fantasy. In the past, I enjoyed my mornings glued to my mattress, thinking of all the things that could be but never were. Now, I didn't want to ever waste the time.

Every day, I would arrive to work early and wait outside until Edward arrived with the keys. Every so often, I would see Wanda, and she, fortunately, never said anything about my leaving work unannounced. She had heard all about what had happened to me, after all. Instead of speaking to me, telling me how sorry she was before asking the mandatory "how are you doing now?" question, she gave me a remorseful look that was meant to be comforting. Instead, it served as a reminder that something horrible had happened.

I didn't want people to feel sorry for me. I didn't want to feel like a victim again in this new scenery. Instead, I wanted to blend into the gray backdrop. All of my life, I lived as a wallflower and liked it that way. Being the center of attention, especially for something so horrific, left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Now, it was just past two, and the shop was especially slow. Edward was working on orders and making room for new releases while I sat in front of a chalkboard, trying to draw something cute and inviting. Somehow, I had become in charge of the chalkboard art for the store although, typically, my mind was too numb to think of anything clever.

It was hard to concentrate on anything other than Edward as he stood on a stepstool, stretching his strong body in order to clean off a top shelf. The phone rang as he was in the middle of rearranging the signage, and he sighed, stepping off the stepstool to answer it.

I had no inspiration. After a moment, I sighed too and set the chalk back in its container and stood up to pick up where Edward had left off. He had so much to do every day that I barely understood how he slept. He was running this business all on his own and cared for it like someone would their child. This place was his baby, and he allowed it to suck up every ounce of his energy.

It was nice to see someone so passionate about something. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears he put into this place was astounding. This was the sort of shop one would see in a film—the sort of place many only dreamed about. It was a book lover's paradise. The sort of small corner of the Earth that you would feel blessed to find.

The oak furnishings, vintage shelves, books new and old with that unique smell from aged glue and paper, made the spot feel like something from a dream. Often, I felt like I was floating through the aisles, high from the energy of the place. Edward was just as aesthetic as everything here, making the environment look even more mystical.

I felt especially high as I stepped onto the stepstool, thinking of how picturesque Edward had looked doing the same thing moments before. While I hated heights—especially after my last encounter on the roof—I reached out to fix the signage so Edward had one less thing to worry about. As I did so, I felt the stool begin to shake under my weight. Was this stool vintage too? Just as I was afraid I might slip off it, feeling my ankles twist against the movement of the shabby steel, I felt hands on my shoulders to ensure that I wouldn't fall.

"I got you."

As Edward's voice filled the air, enveloping my senses, my eyes naturally closed. Even though my feet were steady on the steel, I felt like I was floating. My back was flush against his chest, and I let myself breathe—really breathe—for the first time since that night on the roof. This was what I needed—someone to hold me. His simple words, "I got you," made me feel like, for once, I didn't have to be strong. So, in his arms, in the midday on a Tuesday, I let myself fall apart.

These were old tears. They were tears from the past—ones that had formed behind my eyes and had never fallen. So, when they did, slipping down my cheeks one after the other, I felt free. In that moment, I was a bird whose wings would no longer beat against a cage.

He didn't ask why I was crying. The town was small, and he already knew about everything. But it seemed that somehow, he knew more than that. I had never spoken about my past, and it seemed that I didn't need to. Pain left an impression that could be easily recognized by the others who had experienced the same sort of despair.

His breathe became ragged against the flesh of my neck. It tickled my hair as he leaned into me. After a few moments, I realized he was crying too. His sobs were quiet—almost as if they wanted to be kept a secret. It was like he was keeping a secret from not only me but from himself too.

I moved my hands upward to cover his as they were still pressed into my shoulders. Our fingers intertwined naturally. His tears fell and wet the fabric of my shirt. They dropped onto the bare flesh of my shoulder as well, coating my skin before sliding along my arm only to fall off my elbow.

Had he ever cried like this before? Was this the first time he had been this vulnerable while sober?

Sunlight trickled in from the window as the clouds outside must have moved away to reveal it. As we basked in the sun's warmth, we felt even more sober. In this shared moment, I felt hyper-attuned to everything Edward felt. All of the pain, anger, and anxiety flowed between us with the common thought, life wasn't ever fair.

While I wasn't a mind reader, he felt open to me. As I continued to cry silently, I wondered whether or not I felt opened to him too. Was I as transparent? I hoped so. When he held me, I hoped he felt everything. The beautiful things and the ugly things and all of the things in between.

Was this what love felt like? Showing a person your ugly? If that was so, I wanted to bask in the feeling. With him, I didn't have to be anything. There was no pretending. No inorganic moments. There was only truth. Never before had I felt so held.

When he held me, it felt like the universe was holding onto me too. It felt like, for once, I had something tethering me to this world. Even as tears continued to fall, a small smile formed because, for the first time in my life, I felt loved. The fact that the love was coming from a friend didn't cheapen the feeling nor dull the moment. Regardless of what the future had in store for me, I allowed myself to feel lucky. Love like this wasn't promised in life. It was rare, and in this moment, I was the richest person in the world.

Screw the fact that I was nearly homeless. Screw the fact that I was wasting away. Screw everything else. In his arms, I was rich. I had everything I needed. With him, I wanted for nothing.

Eventually, our tears ceased together, and his hands fell from mine. He pulled away and reached out again to take my hand as he helped me step down from the stool. We didn't look at each other at first. Moments passed with our eyes downcast, as if we were too afraid to face the truth of what had happened.

When our eyes met again, the high that I had felt before was back in full force. With my feet on the ground, my mind was drifting in the air. In front of him, I felt weightless. I wiped my tears, and after a moment, he removed his glasses and did the same. There was an awkward laugh to break the tension between us and after a small, somewhat sad smile, I walked past him to return to the chalkboard.

"Bella," he said, causing me to pause and peer up at him. When our eyes met, he murmured, "Thank you."

I nodded, hoping that my small, timid smile would return the sentiment.

As we returned to work, it seemed like we both decided not to dwell on the moment even though we both knew it had changed everything. There was a bond between us now—something that felt like it could never be broken.

I shouldn't think that. Believing in something that definite was risky. If I became too hopeful, I would only be let down in the future. The past had taught me that. Whenever I had thought I was happy—even if just for a moment—I always regretted everything eventually. I had learned the hard way about the price of happiness. Highs were always followed by lows. There was never a day without darkness.

The rest of the shift passed by slowly. While I worked, I couldn't wait for the moment when we locked the doors, counted the register, and ended our shift to venture up to Edward's apartment. Would the energy be different tonight now that we had shared so much intimacy?

We had gone from strangers to friends to something that was so unique now I couldn't describe it. All I knew was we were something more. Even if that more wasn't romantic. There was an intimacy between us now that was even rare for close friends. At least, I thought so. But I hadn't had much experience with friends, after all. In the past, no one ever wanted to be around me.

At five o'clock, when the store closed, I breathed a sigh of relief. Was my excitement obvious? Could Edward sniff out my eagerness as he moved to lock the doors? As he turned the sign from "open" to "closed," I moved behind the cash desk to begin counting down the register.

My hands shook a little bit as I handled the money, and I nearly dropped a handful of quarters in the process. With my head so filled with the events of the day, it took me three times to count the door down. Edward stood next to me, peering over my shoulder while most likely wondering why I was struggling so much. This had made it even more difficult to count. My mind just couldn't function with him so close.

"You got it?" he asked in a teasing tone as I finally inputted the correct amount into the computer and closed the cash drawer.

I nodded, hoping the blush, which was now covering my cheeks wasn't too obvious to him.

"You ready to get going?"

I nodded again, instantly brightening up. He laughed at my eager expression, and then smiled too. His smile was so fond that I felt dizzy. Why did he have to look at me like this? Doesn't he know what his smile does to me? What it could do to anyone?

I followed him up the store's passage to the apartments, feeling my heartbeat grow faster with every step. As ridiculous as it was, I worried whether or not he could hear it. How embarrassing would that be … if he knew just how nervous he made me.

Once we were safe inside his apartment, I let myself breathe again. He looked especially handsome today, in a sand-colored button-down shirt with a mahogany vest layered over it. Like always, his sleeves were rolled up around his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms. There were veins that were thick over his muscles that I always wanted to run my tongue along.

It felt almost strange experiencing desire like this. With my past always polluting my mind, it was hard to want to be physically close to anyone. In the past, even things as harmless as a hug would make my heart race. Now, looking at Edward, I found myself blossoming—opening up to a point that I wanted to experience everything.

What would it feel like to let him touch me like that? Would I feel fearful? Or would I let myself experience a euphoria that I was sure only his fingers against my core could provide.

It took a moment for me to realize he was watching me too. Once I did, I snapped right back to reality and blushed, worrying that somehow, he could hear the inappropriate nature of my thoughts. In a subtle way, I pressed my thighs together as I felt desire twist in my stomach.

"Tonight, do you feel up to helping me cook?"

Me? Cook? I was mediocre at best. Most of my attempts at cooking had led to embarrassing failures. Things would often end up burnt or nearly unrecognizable.

Edward's laugh startled me for a second. After the events of today, it almost felt strange to hear such a happy sound coming from him.

"Maybe there's a reason you eat so much microwavable food?" he teased before nudging my arm and moving away toward the kitchen, wanting me to follow after him.

I did, trailing after him and into the kitchen before I came to lean against his kitchen island. I rolled my eyes as soon as he looked at me, hoping my expression would adequately replace the sassiness I hoped to return to him. Unlike anyone else, he made me feel playful. I felt young around him. Hell, I was young. Maybe for the first time, I merely felt appropriately my age.

This was what a twenty-four-year-old should feel like, wasn't it? Happy and free. Healthy and untroubled. He seemed to pick up on the vibe I wanted to convey and smiled at me. Although his smile was just as sarcastic as mine, it didn't feel as young. Although I never thought of it before, but Edward must have been quite a bit older. At least ten years.

Before meeting me, it seemed as though Edward had lived a full life. Already, he had experienced life as a husband … life as a father … Once, he'd, had everything, and within a day, all of that had been taken away. Now, he owned a bookshop and lived a meek life in a small town. Unlike me, he was established. Would he want to start a new life? A life with me?

God … what was I even thinking? A life with me? We were just friends. Nothing more … even if things felt so uniquely intimate between us. He never indicated that he wanted to be anything more than friends, and all things considered, I shouldn't be thinking about being anything more anyway.

I was on the run, after all, which meant I didn't need to think about settling down. Maybe I should move on now before things got too deep … before my feelings were too intense. I had to let go before I inevitably got hurt. But I just couldn't.

"Tonight, I was thinking of making a stuffed acorn squash, if that sounds good to you. I didn't want to make something boring or make something I'd already made for you before … But if you wanted something else, then just let me know …"

There was nothing as cute as seeing a grown man ramble. Was he really that nervous about impressing me? Why should he be? I was nothing special, after all.

To answer him, I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Then, as if just remembering, he scrambled around the kitchen to find my writing pad before placing it before me. This time, to thank him, I wrote it out and smiled at him again. He smiled too as he read my response, seeming proud about giving me this form of communication with him.

Why was he being so especially cute today? How could a man as stoic and handsome as him even be cute? I nearly let a laugh slip as I thought of this.

"What are you thinking about? Something funny?"

I quickly shook my head before writing out, Nothing. I just remembered something, but it's nothing.

I definitely wasn't about to tell him just how cute I thought he was. What adult man wanted to hear that?

"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad it's making you smile."

Before I could answer him, he turned around to look through his cookbooks to find the right recipe for this evening. As he leaned over, scanning the text in front of him, I watched the muscles of his back flex slightly against his shirt with every small movement he made.

My cheeks heated in no time. Lost in thought, I felt myself running my tongue along my nether lip. How would it feel to kiss those muscles? Would his body feel nice and heavy on top of mine? I wanted to feel him pressing me into a mattress. His lips would probably feel divinely warm against my flesh. As I thought of him, naked and sweaty against my frame, I felt my nipples harden against the fabric of my shirt. Absentmindedly, I folded my arms across my chest to cover the small evidence of my arousal.

Thankfully, he couldn't see how wet my core was. I felt my arousal dampen the fabric of my panties as I continued to press my thick thighs together. My ears were burning now, and I knew they were probably just as red as my cheeks. Before I could try to take a moment to think of something else to calm my body, he turned around with a recipe book in hand.

Shit.

Was I obvious? As he turned, I found myself so shocked that I dropped my arms away from my chest, giving him a free moment to move his eyes over my body. He did just that, letting his gaze drop to my breasts before remembering himself and bringing his gaze back up to my eyes. Now, we were both blushing.

As confused as the moment was, it became obvious that we were both attracted to each other. What that attraction meant, I didn't know. It was also obvious that neither of us was in the position to love another person. Even if that love was fleeting and lasted no more than a night.

"So …" he said, trialing off with a cough that seemed meant to dispel the building tension. "Did you want to help me out with dinner?"

Dinner … I had forgotten all about that. Instead, I wished he could give me a tour of his bedroom. A tour … and then maybe, we could see where the night would lead.

God, where was my mind? Lost somewhere, obviously.

"Actually … maybe we could do something different tonight?" he said quickly, obviously feeling this building tension too. "Do you want to order food instead? We could call for a pizza, and then maybe we could get out of this stuffy apartment."

I grabbed my pen from the table and quickly wrote, "Where would you want to go?"

He thought for a moment before suggesting, "Want to eat on the roof?"

On the roof … under the stars … I grinned.

"That's perfect," I wrote.

Maybe I was imagining things or maybe Edward Cullen, too handsome and intelligent for his own good, was actually nervous.

A/N: Things are about to get spicy! See you tomorrow for the next update!