Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

~0~

~~Bella~~

I lifted my glass to eye height, turned my body fully to face him, and toasted, "Here's to Episode, the song that defines the place that we occupy right now. Everything will change around us, we will change, but the words and the music will never alter." I stared into his green eyes and clinked my glass to his.

For a split second Edward looked sort of disappointed and my heart lurched. Was he expecting me to say no? Then Edward's expression changed to relief and I started breathing again. His face lit up in one of his devastatingly handsome grins. He took a sip of the wine. Watching his lips surrounding the glass made my mouth water. Edward smiled again and then placed his glass on the table.

"Bella, thank you. I want to send it over to the executive producer and the director on Monday to see what they think. I'm pretty sure they'll say yes," he grinned.

I couldn't stop smiling in reaction to him. His smile was infectious. I didn't know what to say, so I kept sipping my wine, hoping he would continue.

He really was just an ordinary down-to-earth guy and all of my freaking-out was uncalled for. Yes, he was beautiful, and yes, my mind unrealistically wanted to believe that he was attracted to me and that I could have a chance to kiss those amazing lips…and more. He just wanted to use the lyrics, and I wanted to let him. Edward was inspiring and creative and if it means that I get to spend some time with him while we were both here in Vancouver, then why shouldn't I?

Edward was the most interesting person I'd ever met and the whole point of coming to a different country to write was to be inspired by new experiences. Here I was, not even two weeks into my six-month stay, and I'd written lyrics to what could potentially be a worldwide number one. I had met Edward Cullen. I was going to take all I could from this experience and run with it.

"I'd like to record a rough version of the song, so I'm going to ask my friend Ben if we can use his home studio. I have a distinct idea about how I want to record it. I don't want them trying to direct me on this; it has to be my way." He sipped some more wine and then he grinned at me with a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" he asked.

Oh God, is he going to ask me out?

"Umm, no, well I was planning on writing, but I can take a night off. What did you have in mind?" I queried.

Try and stay calm!

"Ben and his band are playing at Richard's tomorrow night. I'll call him tomorrow to see if we could go over to his house in the afternoon and lay this track down. Then we can check out his show. If you'd like to?"

If I'd like to?

"That'd be great. I've been spending all my time in this bar. I really should get out of the hotel. I haven't seen a live band in ages." Okay, stop offering more information than is necessary, or you'll start rambling and sound like a complete idiot.

"Excellent," he picked up the wine glass and leaned back into the sumptuous upholstery. He looked at me and took another sip.

"So, Bella, I know nothing about you. What's your story?" he questioned.

"My personal story, or the fictional one that I'm trying to write?" I laughed.

"Both," he smiled and twisted his body bringing his right thigh and knee up to rest on the booth seat between us. He placed his glass back on the table and then expertly slipped his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor behind him.

He was smooth; it was like looking at a choreographed move at a Vanity Fair shoot. Edward was wearing a generic black v-neck t-shirt. My eyes scanned his bare arms briefly; you could tell he worked out. His skin was pale, except for the fine brown hair that lightly covered the backs of his hands and then continued up around his arms to his elbows. The hair looked soft and lickable. My eyes didn't linger for long, because I knew he was looking at my face again.

Busted! God, just looking at his arms does funny things to me.

He was getting more comfortable in the seat to listen to me ramble on about myself.

Less is always more.

"Well, I don't want to bore you. The short version is I'm from Sydney. I studied Literature at Sydney University and when I graduated, I sort of fell into a career in publishing. It was great helping other authors get published, and then I realised what I really wanted to do was create my own work, so I started writing in my spare time. I was lucky enough to win a writing prize, and as part of the prize I got to choose an all expenses paid trip to live in any Commonwealth city for up to six months, and here I am in Canada. I only arrived two weeks ago."

"Why did you choose Vancouver?" he asked casually.

"It's close enough that I can visit my dad, or he can visit me. I can base myself here and take a few side trips. Then when my time is up, I'll head back to Sydney, hopefully with a completed novel and, if that sells well, I'll keep writing." There I go babbling and revealing too much.

He smiled and reached over to extract the wine bottle from the bucket, the condensation dripping on the shiny black glass tabletop. He ignored it as he refreshed my glass and then his own. He had a knowing smirk on his gorgeously chiseled face.

"How old are you?" he asked without looking at me, as he crushed the bottle back into the ice bucket.

"Twenty-three."

I knew he was the same age as me. I remember reading something about him celebrating his birthday in New York last month. He had achieved so much in his short career, been to many places, met famous celebrities, experiences I couldn't fathom.

"I know," I laughed. "It's taken me all this time to work out what I wanted to do with my life, I'm a late bloomer."

I felt a little inadequate when I compared my life to his.

I smiled and took another sip of wine. It was really rather delicious and it was rushing to my head. I needed to slow down or there would be no way I could stop rambling. I wanted him to know me. I wanted him to tell me about himself. I wanted us to be friends.

"I would never imply that you are a late bloomer," he laughed. "It's just that you haven't really told me much about yourself. You're editing your life down. I want the full story."

Full story? I really had nothing to tell. "What do you want to know?"

"Siblings?"

"No, my parents divorced. I lived with my mum Renee in Phoenix and then she moved us to Australia. My dad didn't remarry, he still lives in Washington, and Renee remarried seven years ago."

He looked pensive.

"You weren't born in Australia?" he asked.

"No, I was born in Washington, but I haven't lived there since I was a baby."

"Have you travelled much?"

"I've been to New Zealand a lot, with my mum and her husband Phil. He's into extreme sports, so we'd go there for white-water rafting and bungy-jumping." I laughed as I recalled Phil trying to coax me into trying cliff diving.

"I used to visit my dad in Forks every two years in school holidays. I've been to LA and San Francisco. That's about it. I didn't really get the travel bug like a lot of my friends. I'm sort of a homebody!" I laughed, and then remembered how homesick I was only a few short days ago.

His mouth was hanging open, as if I had said something shocking.

"Forks? Forks Washington?" he looked really confused.

"Yes. My dad Charlie is the chief of Police there. Why? Have you been there?" Not many people had heard of the little town of Forks, I was amazed that he had.

"Yes, I…my family, we lived in Forks for almost five years. I've met your dad, Chief Swan. I had no clue he had a daughter."

His face looked pale and thoughtful. I had no idea that he had ever lived in Forks. I assumed from the interviews I'd read or seen that he was from LA. I knew he had a twin sister, Alice. I remember seeing a picture of them together at some swanky Hollywood premiere. She was small but graceful, and had been wearing the most amazing designer dress. Her hair was modern, short and wispy and dark brown, almost black, not at all like his coppery disarray.

"When did you live in Forks? You've met my dad? He didn't arrest you or anything did he?"

"We moved there when I was a freshman, I went to Forks High. We moved to California after my sister Alice and I graduated. I got into acting, and she went to UCLA."

He smiled.

"I was never arrested. My mother Esme did a lot of charity work and Chief Swan, I mean your dad, would always lend a hand, represent the Police when she asked him to. I think your dad has a few female fans in Forks, he's quite a charmer, according to my mom."

Charlie, a charmer? Well, I suppose he's pretty handsome, a career bachelor.

"That's really weird. I can't believe you lived in Forks. I nearly went to Forks High! If I had gone to live with Charlie, you and I would have been at the same school."

Edward was staring at me, he looked like he was still in shock, and was studying my face, trying to see the resemblance between myself and Charlie maybe? He had already met my dad. That was very weird, surreal even.

"I suppose it really is a small world, six degrees of separation and all that." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Edward frowned.

"Why didn't you go and live with Chief Swan?"

"When I was sixteen, I went through...some difficult times. Renee wanted me to live with Charlie for twelve months. She thought living in a small American town with the chief of Police would sort me out. I threw a massive tantrum, and promised to behave. I couldn't imagine living with Charlie, all he did when I visited him was go fishing or watch the sports channels. I would have gone insane from the lack of sun and I would have missed my friends."

Rambling again. I couldn't tell him the real reason I'd fought so hard to stay in Sydney was my all-consuming and unreciprocated crush on Riley Biers.

Edward took a large gulp of wine then breathed out heavily.

"It must be hard for you, being away from your friends, away from your comfort zone," he seemed a bit shaken and his eyes were no longer staring into mine. He had dropped his head, and was staring at his glass.

"Yes, I wouldn't have done this voluntarily. But I couldn't just pass up the prize. You know I never thought I'd win it. I expect my problem is that I always underestimate my ability." It was hard to say out loud, but I knew it was true.

"And how did your friends react when you won the prize?"

"They were really excited for me. My best friend Jessica couldn't wait for me to leave. She's living in my apartment while I'm away. I'm not sure how I'm going to get rid of her when I go back." I smiled as I recalled how ecstatic Jessica was when I told her she could stay in my apartment for six months. "She's looking after my cat, Jake. I miss him."

"Is there anyone else that you miss?" Edward still had a weird look on his face.

Did he want to know if there was a special friend that I missed, a boyfriend maybe? If only. Riley and I would never get back together, the thought of it made me feel nauseous.

"Sure, I miss all my friends, but I actually know more about what's going in their lives now than I did when I was there. Godda love facebook!"

Oh God, I need to think about my responses, so far I have admitted to being a twenty-three year old who missed her cat, hated leaving home, and preferred to communicate to my friends using facebook. I sounded pathetic, even to myself.

I kicked my shoes off under the table and lifted by knees up onto the seat. I shuffled backwards slightly so my knees wouldn't touch his. Turning fully towards him, I shifted my weight so I was more comfortable. I picked up my glass and took another sip. When I looked up he was staring at me again, that same unguarded look, like he was trying to read my mind or something.

"You look like you want to ask me something else?" I said.

His eyes were the most beautifully intense green I had ever seen. When he was talking to me, he never broke eye contact. It was like he was giving me his absolute attention; focusing on what I was saying as if it was the most interesting conversation he had ever been engaged in. As if he wasn't mesmerizing enough already.

"I was just a little curious about…if you had a…written lyrics before?"

"No, never, I'm actually shit at music. Failed the subject in high school. All musical ability skipped me completely. Charlie plays guitar. He tried to teach me when I was ten, gave me about three formal lessons and then gave up. I just didn't get it, I kept holding the guitar the wrong way and he couldn't hide his frustration. I haven't picked up a guitar since."

Oh God. I was rambling again, but Edward didn't seem to mind. He smiled at me, "You say you're shit at music, but there's not a single person I know that can listen to a song a few times and start writing down words that fucking fit it as brilliantly as yours fit my music. You're not wrong about underestimating your abilities," he grinned.

"But Edward, I have no idea, no idea at all how I did that!" I exclaimed. "I wasn't joking when I said I just went into a freaky trance."

I knew honesty was the best policy in this instance, even if I sounded like a raving lunatic.

"When I heard you start to play I was mesmerized. It was, it is the most beautiful piece of music. I must admit, I was tired and had been writing for almost five hours straight, and I'd consumed a whole bottle of Croser.

"When I closed my eyes it was as if I was hallucinating words, like something from Sesame Street, the words, they were just swirling around in my mind. I grabbed my notebook and simply wrote them down. I kept writing until you stopped playing and then you walked out of the bar, and I snapped out of it. I can't explain it."

Edward took in a deep breath. He looked very perplexed. His eyes never left my face.

"I know, it sounds ridiculous. You know, I never saw your face that first night, and after I worked out they were lyrics and I transcribed them, I debated to myself whether or not to give them to you. I didn't even know if I would get the chance, you could have been just staying in the hotel one night. I had no clue who you were.

"When you came back last night and you played it again, I just sang along in my head and then you kept playing and I kept singing, and James had told me he asked you about the song and you said it wasn't finished and it didn't have a name, so I assumed if it didn't have a name then maybe it didn't have lyrics." I knew I was rambling, but I needed to tell him this. I had to get this off my chest.

He continued to gaze at me, his intense attention making my heart pound at an irregular rate.

"I nearly didn't give them to you, but I hadn't been able to write any of my novel that day, so I thought if I didn't, I would regret it, and not be able to get rid of the writer's block or something. If I had worked out who you were, I never would have approached you. I would have been embarrassed, in case you thought I was some crazy sycophant. I honestly thought that you would think it was a joke. I was completely mortified."

He was still looking at me and I saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed hard before he spoke. "I'm glad you did give them to me. I realized after you left that you hadn't known who I was. The look on your face was priceless; you really were mortified."

I laughed at the absurdity of it all. He wasn't judging me; he was making me feel at ease. He was laughing with me.

"You should claim you wrote the lyrics, no one is going to believe it when they hear my psychotic story about how I wrote those words." I scoffed at myself.

"Yes, they will. Bella, you need to understand that if you say yes to letting me use these lyrics, this whole story will come out, how I met you, everything."

"No one will believe it! I can't tell people that I heard your song and just spontaneously hallucinated the perfect words. People won't believe that I just happened to be staying in the same hotel as you, was completely ignorant that you were staying here and then just presented you with these lyrics, 'Oh hi Edward, my name is Bella Swan I'm a huge fan and here, I've just written words to the beautiful song you just played, while I was suffering a psychotic episode, whilst drunk and suffering from exhaustion.' It's completely unbelievable." I gasped.

He seemed taken aback, and then his face lit up in a mischievous grin. "You're a huge fan?" he teased, obviously trying to lighten the mood, not wanting to comment on my admission that I might be mentally unstable.

"Yes, I am actually, but don't worry, I can control myself. I won't try and jump on you or anything." I laughed out loud, as I recalled exactly how I jumped on him last night in my dream.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to provide some witty retort, but instead he hastily picked up his wine glass and drained it.

"I don't know what to say about how you happened to write these lyrics," he said, as he placed the glass back on the table. "But we'll need to think of something. If they want this song on the soundtrack, they will want to know about you."

"Then, I'm happy not to take credit. The lyrics are yours. Just tell everyone you wrote Episode. I don't want to deal with it."

He looked angry. "No, don't say that. You wrote these lyrics. I'm not going to claim them as my own."

I could feel heat rising up my chest and onto my neck and face, slow red heat, devastating evidence of my pure embarrassment. I glanced around the bar, we were alone.

His voice softened. "I'm sorry. Bella, we've got ages to think of something, a realistic story. Let's talk about it tomorrow; just know that I want you to get credit for this. We can come up with something plausible, you don't have to get yourself worked up," he was looking at me reassuringly…but still, I knew how the media worked, they'd twist the story so I came out looking like a love-struck psycho fan.

He yanked the bottle from the bucket, topped up my glass and poured the rest into his empty one. "Now, come over to the piano with me. I want you to hear our song."

~0~

~~Edward~~

I knew if Bella heard the song, she would be at ease and she would want to take credit for her writing.

I need to play it no; she needs to hear it.

I pushed up from the table and just as I was about to shuffle my body out and walk with my glass of wine over to the piano, Bella surprised the shit out of me. Her warm hand gently covered mine and I felt a jolt of heat run up my arm and down my spine.

"No!" her voice was strained.

I looked down at her. The panicked look on her face was painful. I slowly put my glass down and sat back on the seat, closer to her than I had been. Her touch was doing strange things to me.

"You got to ask questions. Don't I get a turn?" she rushed through her words.

I sensed she wasn't ready to hear the song. She was trying to stall me. I flipped my hand over so that I held hers. I looked down at her fingers. It took all my self-restraint not to pull them to my lips. My thumb slowly glided over her knuckles.

"You said you were a huge fan. You probably know more about me than I do." I said.

I'd let her ask me whatever she wanted and I would answer truthfully. I reluctantly lowered her hand to the seat in between us, but I just couldn't seem to let go of it. I didn't want to let go.

"Exactly my point. I don't believe all that I've read." She sounded less panicky and more sarcastic.

"Okay, what have you read that you don't believe?" If she wanted to know what everyone else on the planet wanted to know, now was her time to ask me.

"Are you homesick?" she took me by surprise. I'm such a hypocrite. I couldn't ask her whether she had a boyfriend outright, and now I was disappointed that she wasn't asking me if I was currently seeing somebody.

"Yes, extremely. I miss my family, and I never thought I'd say this, but I miss LA terribly." Yes, I missed my LA life. I missed being an unknown. I missed seeing Alice and Jasper everyday.

"When was the last time you were there?"

"I stopped back home for a few days after I finished filming my last movie in New York. The last time I was there for more than a few days was at Christmas." I looked at the table, and I remembered the blur that was my very hurried and surreal holiday back home. No one had changed, but they kept commenting on how much I had.

I looked down to her hand in mine. I wondered if I'd ever get a chance to take Bella to meet my family.

Holding her hand made me feel so relaxed and happy.

If only I'd asked if she had a boyfriend when I had the chance.

And like she read my mind, she slowly pulled her hand away from me. I looked into her eyes; maybe she just didn't feel the same indescribable sensation I felt emanating from her skin.

"Are you dating your co-star?" her words were slow and her eyes searched mine as she spoke.

Did she want to know because she was just curious and she didn't believe everything she read, or because she was attracted to me? Either way, I needed her to believe the truth.

"No, I'm not dating anyone. I haven't dated anyone for two years. I know everybody thinks we're together, but it's simply not true. I don't get into intimate relationships with people that I'm working with, while I'm working with them. It becomes messy and emotional. I can't mix my working life with my personal life."

No one ever believed me when I denied being in a sexual relationship with my current co-star Rosalie Hale. To the general public, Rosalie was gorgeous. She had a swimsuit model body, silky blonde hair and a femininity and confidence that were very appealing. But the general public didn't know her like I did. Rosalie Hale was vain and shallow and didn't think about anyone except herself. I had put it down to her charmed life and her age, a tender nineteen. She had been a child-star; she got whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. She was a Hollywood brat. She just hadn't grown up.

Bella looked thoughtful, but she sat quietly for a maddeningly long time, and I couldn't comprehend what she may be thinking or how she was interpreting my words. At least she'd had the guts to ask me. I took my cue.

"Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you in Sydney?" I still had my eyes glued to hers. She stared up at me.

"No, I don't. I haven't had a boyfriend in three years." She looked confused, and a little sad. I

wanted to ask her why they broke up. Did she break up with him? I wanted to know if she still had feelings for him. I wanted to know how any guy in his right mind could have let her go.

Great. I was jealous of a guy I didn't even know, jealous that someone else had been that close to Bella.

The thought of being in a relationship with her consumed me.

"Play the song for me. I think I'm ready to hear it," she said.

It was the last thing I expected for her to say. Her voice was almost a whisper. I tentatively took her hand that was resting on her knee, ready to draw her over to the piano. Bella placed her other hand over mine and shook her head.

"I'll sit here, if that's okay?"

"Sure." I reluctantly let go of her hand and stood up, just as the bar guy approached the table.

"Would you like anything else from the bar?"

"Could I have a mineral water please, James?" her voice sounded croaky and timid.

I nodded that I was happy with my wine, and he sauntered off just as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I didn't have to even look at it.

Alice.

Bella looked nervous as all hell. I needed to be empathetic; hearing me sing her words must feel overwhelming for her. I understood that. I walked to the piano, sat down and placed my wine glass on the little stool. I scrunched my shoulder blades together. I wanted to turn to look at her, but I knew she didn't want me to. I cleared my throat, but then I thought I should ease her into it so I just played the music and didn't sing a word.

I needed the time to run through everything that we told each other. She didn't have a boyfriend. She had written these lyrics that started out tender and beautiful, then twisted into a dangerous mix of spite and jealousy.

Three years was a long time, surely she is over him? I wonder if she'll ever tell me about him. More to the point, was she ready to be in another relationship?

Who was I kidding? I couldn't offer her anything. If she started dating me, her life would be shit. She would be photographed wherever she went. The tabloid hacks would pick out her flaws and twist them into vicious stories to sell more newspapers and magazines and she would hate being put on show like that. That was not worth enduring just to be with me. She was willing to give me her lyrics and remain anonymous, just so she didn't have to deal with all the shit that was going to come with a public collaboration.

I had to stop wanting to touch her and confusing the situation and myself.

This is a working relationship. I will get this song on the soundtrack, and as soon as I have this song locked-in, I can spend some time over the next few months finishing off the other song that isn't quite coming together. Maybe Bella would write some words for it…

We could spend time together as friends, within the confines of this hotel. She was going to be here anyway, and it would be my home for the next four months.

I wanted to help Bella to embrace her creativity. It's the least I could do, and if the last two years has taught me anything, it's to go with your gut instincts and recognize and embrace all situations that are presented to you. I had the encouragement of a lot of people. She doesn't have anyone. I could be her someone. I didn't need to throw sex into the mix. She deserved better than what I could offer her in that department.

I thought about what it would have been like to meet her when she was sixteen. I know I would have been instantly attracted to Bella. God, Alice would have loved her too. If she had been at my school, there would have been no Lauren Mallory in my consciousness. I would have pursued Bella. I would have courted her, taken her to the prom. I couldn't discount what Alice was going to say, but as much as I tried to push that out of mind when I was with Bella, I knew that it would affect any future decisions I made. I really didn't want to call Alice back.

I played the last note. I couldn't turn to see if Bella was freaking-out. I was going to sing Episode and afterwards I was going to go back to her.

We have so much more to talk about.

~0~

~~Bella~~

"Play the song for me. I think I'm ready to hear it." My voice had no volume, but he had heard me and he placed a reassuring hand on mine as if to help me shuffle out of the booth with him. But I grabbed our hands and froze.

"I'll sit here, if that's okay?" I couldn't let him see me cry; because I was one hundred percent sure that's what I was going to do, as soon as I heard his voice.

"Sure," he smiled at me as he stood up and moved out from behind the table, and then I saw James who was now standing in front of us.

"Would you like anything else from the bar?"

"Could I have a mineral water please, James?" my voice didn't sound like my own.

Edward picked up his wine glass before looking across to me, a small sexy smile on his lips. As he walked to the piano, I closed my eyes, willing them not to start expelling the tears that were waiting.

Then he began to play and though the tension in my stomach was painful, the music calmed me. Like before, it was completely mesmerizing. He didn't sing; he simply played the music. I was thankful that he was taking it slow.

I was so confused, because the way he'd held and caressed my hand completely contradicted his statement about not getting intimate with someone he works with, and I'm pretty sure I fell into that category. He was the one that preceded our discussion about the song as 'business'.

Maybe my definition of intimacy and his were completely different. Maybe he was just a touchy-feely type of guy.

I wanted to believe that he was not in a relationship with Rosalie Hale. But she was beautiful and she had the most amazing body.

Is there something wrong with him?

Any of the guys I knew back home would have jumped into bed with her in an instant. Riley would have.

God, the last thing I wanted to do right now is think about Riley!

Edward was sexy, gorgeous, genuinely a nice guy, his talent was inspiring. I couldn't pick any fault with him whatsoever. And that was it. I couldn't pick a fault with him. Everyone had faults. Riley had hundreds of faults; faults that I only recognized after our relationship ended.

Edward seemed to be too perfect. He had to have a flaw, something that I could focus on so I wouldn't completely fall for him.

And like a light switching on in my head I remembered he was a smoker. I remember last night he had gotten up and gone to the balcony to suck on a cancer-stick.

There were several things that I absolutely abhorred - cigarettes was at the top of the list, next to racism, corporate pricks that ruined the environment and that asshole back in Sydney with the petrol leaf-blower that would wake me up every Sunday morning at 7am.

My mind was awash with trivial thoughts, ultimately distracting me from what was to come. I sensed he was only playing the music for a reason. Maybe he had his own thoughts to sort through, but then my eyes flew open when he finished playing and he scrunched his shoulder blades together before he started the song again and his voice was husky and sexy as he sang, with raw emotion and tenderness, the lyrics to our song.

~0~

~~Edward~~

It was so hard not to turn around to see what emotions were painted on her beautiful face. I took a deep breath then started playing. My voice sounded a little conservative. I didn't want to freak her out. She needed to know how absolutely fantastic her words were. I wanted her to commit to letting me use them. I tried to block out the tingling feeling that was racing up and down my spine, knowing that she was sitting there behind me. My hand glowed from the warmth of her touch and I wanted to rush through the song so I could go back and talk to her some more.

The physical attraction I felt towards Bella was undeniable, but I had my rule and I had never broken it.

Shit, that's probably why I haven't been laid in two years. I never got to just meet people; the people I met were working with me. How would I ever meet and have a relationship with someone, if I had swore to never break my rule?

I continued to sing the song. I had memorized the words, as surely as if I'd written them myself.

Can she fathom how fantastic it is?

I played the last few keys; my eyes closed and there was tight feeling of anticipation in my stomach at the thought of returning to the booth to speak to her. I ended the song and looked up.

The Armani suit guys started clapping; the old dude had stepped in from the balcony and started clapping as well. I turned in my seat to see James grinning at me, and then I saw Bella. Her face was flushed that delicious crimson. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and the slow smile that lit up her face took my breath away.

~0~

~~Bella~~

He walked slowly back to the table and smiled as he sat next to me. We sat in silence for a long while. I wasn't sure what to say to him. My heart was pounding in my chest.

"It is a beautiful song. I'm sure they will want to use it on the soundtrack. I am…speechless." I looked up at him, a slight smile on my lips and when he looked directly into my eyes, I knew that I needed to snap out of my girlish lust induced haze and see the situation for what it was.

There is no chance for a romantic relationship with Edward Cullen; he's not the right guy for me. He is way out of my league.

"So, tell me about what happens next, in terms of recording it?" I needed to get the subject 'back to business'.

"I'll record a rough version with Ben, then play it to the film's producer and director to get their feedback. If they give the go ahead, I'd record in a studio with a full complement of musicians and arrange the song professionally."

I couldn't help but notice his face light up when he talked about it. I sensed that he really did enjoy his music much more than he was enjoying acting.

"So, we're going to Ben's house tomorrow?" I queried, making sure that what he mentioned earlier was still going to happen.

"Yes, I'm sure that will be the plan. Can I call you tomorrow, to let you know the details?"

"Yeah, sure." I leant down to snag my bag from the floor and retrieve my phone. "Let's exchange numbers, I mean, sorry, I can just give you mine." I felt silly expecting him to give out his number to me.

Edward lifted his bum off the seat slightly. Thrusting his hips up, his long and graceful fingers dug into the front of his jeans pocket to retrieve his phone. It took all of my mental ability to focus enough not to audibly moan.

Fuck me! That may be the most erotic thing I have ever seen.

I closed my eyes to retain the vision.

"No, you have mine too, I trust you not to go and hand it out to anyone else though, this is about the sixth number I've had in twelve months," he laughed, but it was more like an ironic sigh of acceptance. I reluctantly opened my eyes.

We exchanged numbers and then I checked the time before putting my phone away. I wanted to stay here all night but I knew the longer I sat there with him, the harder it would be for me to leave.

"I'm really quite tired, so umm, if you don't mind, I think I'll go and get some sleep." I smiled and looked into his eyes.

"Oh, do you want to come out to the balcony with me first, get some fresh air?" he sounded as though he was disappointed that I wanted to leave. I glanced out to the balcony, and then looked back at him.

"I don't classify second-hand cigarette smoke as fresh air. Sorry, it's just I can't stand the smell, and my Gran died of cancer. You go ahead though." I sounded judgmental and rude, but if this is what will make me like him a little less, then I could live with it. The thought that he was damaging his lungs, and possibly his vocal chords with dangerous chemicals made me really sad. He didn't need to smoke to look sexy.

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry about your Gran. I know it's a disgusting habit. How about I call you tomorrow once I've spoken to Ben and I'll let you know the details about recording and going to Ben's gig?" he sighed and looked down at the table and I had to get out of there.

I stood up and smiled, "Sure, call me then, I'll speak to you tomorrow." I grabbed my bag and flung it over my shoulder, before hastily rushing out the door.

A/N: What would you be drinking if you were in a bar with Edward Cullen? Please leave a review!