I'm actually really anxious about posting this chapter. It was the first part of the story I ever wrote. I had the idea for the story and turned it over in my head for weeks, thinking about the plot, the characters, the timeline. I knew eventually I'd have to actually start writing and I knew the story would include a scene like this. So, more to see for myself if I was actually capable of writing anything, I just opened a blank document one night and started typing. What came out is more or less this chapter. Once I started back at the beginning and wrote up to it, I had to go back and tweak it, to make it fit with what the story had become, but the essence of it is the same. It's still my favorite chapter.

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EPOV

I'd spent all day ducking James' calls, and the calls of everyone else I normally hung out with. All the crap they wanted me to go do, clubbing, drinking, parties, sex…I didn't want to do any of that shit. I didn't know what the hell had happened to me, but everything that used to appeal to me had turned to ashes in my mouth.

Who am I kidding? I know exactly what had happened to me. Bella happened to me. All I really wanted to do was be with her, see her, talk to her, make her laugh. So I'd been driving around all day, trying to distract myself so I didn't go show up at her recording studio like some crazy pathetic stalker. It was three days since that amazing night on the beach and I swear I felt like I was going through withdrawals.

I knew this was complicated, that there were all sorts of obstacles in my path, and that I didn't even know what Bella wanted. But I knew she was attracted to me. And I know that the other night at the beach when I floated most of the night in denial, I had one of the best nights of my life. I just wanted to recapture that feeling. I wanted to get her alone, just us, in private, and push everything else away.

It was late afternoon and it occurred to me I could just call her. I knew the band started early in the studio and usually wrapped up by 3, so she was done by now. I could just call her, and see if she wanted to do something. Like a date. No! Not like a date, she'd freak out. We could just hang out. Would she think that was weird? Maybe. What about dinner? She needed to eat, right? Maybe I could just be really casual about it. "Hey, Bella, I'm going to grab a bite. Want to come?" That was casual enough. Right?

I let my head fall into the steering wheel. Motherfucker, when did I become such a fucking girl? I mean, was I really sitting here in my parked car torturing myself about calling a girl on the phone? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Before I could girl out and talk myself back out of this plan, I snatched my phone off the passenger seat and scrolled to Bella's number, hitting send. It rang a while before bouncing to voicemail. Damn.

I started driving again, completely aimless. Although I did notice I was making my way towards the Hollywood Hills. Where Bella lives. Coincidentally.

I called again. Voicemail. But not straight to it, so her phone was on, she just wasn't where she could answer it. Maybe she just couldn't hear it. Could I stop by? That would be really stalker-y. Would it? Maybe I could play that casual, too. "Hey, I was near your place, so I thought I'd see if you wanted to grab a bite."

"I'm such a fucking girl!" I shouted to the inside of my car.

And before I could change my mind, I turned towards Bella's house.

I tried Bella's cell one more time while I sat in my car in front of her house, but it still rang then bounced to voicemail. I could see that deathtrap of a truck she loved so much further up the drive, so she was here. Unless she was out in someone else's car. If she wasn't picking up then clearly she wasn't free for dinner. I should just go home. Or out. Or something. But I didn't want to do something else, I wanted to see Bella. And now that I was here…

I was out of the car and striding up her walk before I could girl out one more time. I had never been through the yard to actually see her house, I usually just dropped her at the foot of the drive. Like most of these Hollywood Hills houses, the little front yard was filled with greenery, giant oleanders in this case, usually planted by the residents to provide more privacy and seclusion. I was almost to the end of the walk before I saw more than a glimpse of the house itself. When I did, I stopped and looked around, slightly confused. It was tiny. A bungalow, really. And while a lot of these old 30's bungalows had been wildly converted and expanded into luxury homes, this one looked untouched. It was quaint in its way, but so small and….normal. Was this all there was? Did she really live here? Did I get the address wrong? No, there it was on the wall next to the door.

As I climbed the steps and neared the door, I was assaulted by The Shins playing at an absolutely earsplitting level. I smiled, both because this explained why she wasn't answering her phone and because I loved this album. I rang the buzzer. And waited. I rang again. And waited. I knocked…loud. And waited. Now I was slightly concerned. The house wasn't that big. How long could it take to make it to the door? Hesitantly I tried the doorknob.

It was unlocked.

What. The. Fuck?

My stomach dropped to my feet and my heart began to pound its way out of my chest.

I pushed the door open a little and stepped into her dimly lit living room. Relief flooded my system as soon as I made it inside. I heard her singing…loudly…to the music that was nearly deafening now that I was in the house. I chuckled at the explanation.

I followed the sound of her voice towards the back of the house. Fuck me, I was actually getting butterflies that I was about to see her.

Passing through the little open dining room, I rounded the corner and finally spotted her in her kitchen, at the stove, with her back to me. She was facing the window over the back of the stove and sunlight was flooding in, washing everything in her cozy little kitchen, including her, with golden late afternoon light. She was stirring something with the spoon in her right hand, her left hand planted on the back of her hip while she sang along blissfully to "Phantom Limb". She was wearing a bright Indian print peasant skirt, the kind of thing you'd buy at a flea market for twenty bucks. She had on a tight white wife beater undershirt, ancient from the looks of it. The cotton was so worn that it was nearly see through, certainly it was not doing much to hide the deep blue satiny bra she had on underneath. As amazing as she had looked in all those glamorous clothes Alice bought her, none of them compared to this. Her long dark hair was pulled up to the top of her head in a messy knot haphazardly held in place with two chopsticks and she was barefoot. Long wisps of hair escaped the knot and floated around her face. In that moment, she looked like exactly what she had been this time a year ago, a part-time college student, a beautiful girl, singing in her cousin's band, sweet, natural, unbearably sexy.

Fuck.

As I watched her silently, she shifted her weight to her right leg while rubbing her left foot up her calf, as if she had an itch. She pivoted to grab another spoon off the counter and stir a pot of something boiling on the back of the stove, never stopping her singing. Her movements were so light and fluid, she was so clearly in her element and happy, singing out loud to her song. I'd never seen her looking so comfortable and at ease and happy.

My mouth began to water at the sight of her. I was just standing there gaping at her like some creep. I mentally gave myself a shake. I had to pull it together or I'd freak her out.

I cleared my throat loudly to alert her to my presence. Her singing was lost in her strangled scream as she spun to face me, wooden spoon clutched to her chest, dark eyes wide and flashing, a blush of pale peach flooding her cheeks. She looked even hotter. Not helping. I quickly held up my hands in front of me to calm her and shot her a reassuring smile. Once she registered that it was me her eyes drooped closed and she sagged against the counter in relief.

"Oh my God, Edward! You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing here?"

"I called. I rang the bell and knocked, but you didn't hear. Your door was open, so I came in. Bella, why the hell was your door unlocked?"

"What?" she looked distracted, casting a glance at the front of the house while she reached for her ipod on its dock and lowered the volume to something tolerable. "Oh, I got back from the studio a little while ago. I must have forgotten to lock it behind me." She shrugged casually.

"Jesus, Bella, that's fucking dangerous. For any woman living alone in LA, but especially for you. You may not have acquired any unhinged fans yet, but it's only a matter of time. You have to protect yourself."

She made a face, her eyes on her bare feet, looking miserably uncomfortable. She actually looked like she might cry. I was killing her good mood, I realized. She had some great groove going in her glorious sunny little kitchen, cooking and singing, and here I was reminding her again of how much everything has changed for her, and not necessarily for the better. I was used to this shit, but it was all new to her, and probably terrifying.

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry." It was time to get on to the reason I was here, although the point was moot now, I saw. But still, I needed to explain myself. I took a deep breath and hoped I sounded more casual than I felt. "I was just in your neighborhood and thought I'd see if you wanted to go grab dinner, but clearly you're having guests." I waved a hand at what was a rather large amount of food she was cooking.

"Guests?"

"That's a lot of food, Bella. You must be having people over. I'll get out of your way."

"No, no guests! It's just me," she said quickly. She glanced down at her feet again, that killer blush diffusing her cheeks, "Um…do you want to stay for dinner?"

Fuck, yes. Right now I never wanted to leave this kitchen as long as I lived.

"Well, yeah, sure, but are you sure you're not expecting anyone?" I was thinking of Jasper, but there was no freaking way I would say his name. "Why are you making all this food?"

She chuckled and shrugged lightly. "I only know how to cook in 'Large' I guess. I did all the cooking at home for me and my dad, Charlie. But almost always somebody was over for dinner. Emmet or Rose, or Jasper, or all of them. Charlie worked a lot, so my house was band practice Ground Zero. I was always cooking for a crowd. I still do it out of habit."

"You looked like you were having fun. You like cooking." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. It's basic, straightforward. And the results are always pretty good, if I do say so myself. I guess you could say it's my happy place. And I really needed my happy place today. So," she straightened up and looked at me, "are you staying?"

I beamed at her "Absolutely."

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BPOV

I tried to dispel my nervous butterflies. Edward was standing in my kitchen, looking inordinately pleased about staying to eat my humble little home cooked meal. My warning bell was going off, especially after my conversation with Rose this morning. I shouldn't have asked him to stay. When we were on our own, casual like this, that's when things got…muddy and confusing. But I was so caught off guard, having him here in what was my very private place. And I just really wanted him to stay. After my startling discovery of those websites this morning and the horrible scene with the paparazzi this afternoon, I'd had that overwhelming desire to call him. I'd been thinking of him while I was standing at the stove, wanting with some part of myself to see him. And then, miraculously, he was in my kitchen, and I just didn't want to let him go.

I exhaled, blowing the wisps of hair that had escaped my makeshift updo out of my face and attempted to keep it casual.

"Okay, can you open some wine for us?" I asked over my shoulder as I dug the corkscrew out of the drawer.

He was happy to have some direction and sprung into action. I pointed him towards my meager little wine selection and he set about picking out a bottle.

"What are we eating?"

"Chicken Alfredo. Sorry, nothing fancy."

"It smells great," he said, as he decided on a bottle to go with it. "And I'm starving."

"Well," I laughed, "The one thing I can promise is that there's plenty."

We worked in companionable ease for a bit, me finishing up the meal and directing him to the plates and silverware so he could set the table. It was early evening, but still very light out and the air was so soft and warm. It was a novelty I couldn't get over after a life spent in the rainy Olympic Peninsula of Washington. So I opened the French doors in the dining room that faced the backyard. All the early evening golden light from outside flooded the table and we didn't even need to turn on the overhead light. The backyard was a riot of shrubs and flowers, lush and green. It was one of my favorite parts of the house. There was a chorus of little bug and bird noises filtering in from outside.

I scrolled through my ipod and found my Nick Drake playlist and hit play. There was just the bread left to carry out to the table.

"What else can I do?" Edward asked coming back into the kitchen behind me.

"Nothing, just this and I have it. Go pour the wine," I said, without turning. Now that I was finished cooking, I reached up and yanked the chopsticks out of my hair, shaking it out as it fell down behind me. I scooped up the breadbasket and turned to head to the table.

Edward was still standing where he had stopped, looking frozen. His mouth was open slightly, and his eyes looked a little glazed. He was staring at me with a slightly pained expression on his face.

"Edward, is everything okay?"

He blinked and blew out a breath, then flashed me his trademark movie star smile, the one that always made me go weak in the knees. "I'm fine," he said brightly, "Let's eat!"

Soon we were settled at the table, sipping the perfect pinot grigio, thanks to Edward, and starting in on the alfredo and salad. Edward took a bite, closed his eyes and moaned.

"God, Bella, this is fantastic."

I snorted in disbelief. "Come on, Edward. You eat at the best restaurants in LA every single night. Well, aside from the nights you eat tacos out of the back of a truck on the side of the road. But in either case, this is nothing to compare with food like that. This is just dinner."

He set his fork down momentarily to look at me. I met his gaze and there it was again, that freaky frisson, like an electric current down my back and all the way to my fingertips, whenever I looked at him like this. Danger. I'm in danger.

"Bella, I can't remember the last time I just ate dinner. At someone's house. Like a normal person. This is amazing." He took a sip of his wine and looked out the French doors to the backyard. "This is all pretty great. I like your place, by the way. It's…unexpected."

"If by unexpected, you mean small and dinky, then yes, it is," I laughed.

"Well, I did notice that it seems a little modest. Not exactly a rock star's crib," he admitted, smirking at me from under the fall of his glorious bronze hair.

"Don't call me a rock star. And yes, the real estate agent dragged me though all these crazy places, big palatial fake castles, huge modern cavernous things, places with indoor pools and waterfalls…it was insane. I felt lost in those places. I could never imagine living in a place like that by myself. I never had…lived alone, I mean. I was all for getting a place with the band here in LA, at least for a while. But Emmett said it would be beyond pathetic for us to all live together like in some sitcom. So I looked, but I hated everything she was showing me. Then I found this place in rentals on Craigslist and it was perfect."

Edward nearly choked on the sip of wine he was taking. "You found your house on Craigslist?"

"Yeah. I mean, the realtor still arranged it all, got it all set up. But I emailed her the link. She couldn't believe this was what I wanted. But it feels right, you know? I fit here."

Edward smiled at me again, his eyes soft, his face so beautiful I couldn't speak. "Yes, you do."

I looked back at my plate before he could see the blush creeping up my cheeks. I knew this was a mistake, having him here. But I couldn't regret it. I felt like I was walking headlong into my doom and I couldn't seem to summon the strength to care.

"So," he said, redirecting the conversation, "You said you learned to cook doing it for you dad. Where's your mom?"

I shifted a little uncomfortably at the question, but I kept my voice even. "Gone. She met some minor league ball player in Port Angeles when I was eight and that was the last we saw of her."

"Seriously?" Edward looked stunned. I knew why. I'd heard all about the magnificent Cullens from Alice. Dr. Carlisle Cullen, one of the most talented heart specialists in Seattle, and Esme Cullen, successful interior decorator. Beautiful, perfect parents; loving, devoted relationship. Honestly with such a flawless family, it was hard to understand how Edward turned out to be such a mess. Usually I wasn't ashamed of where I came from, but it was hard not to feel a little insecure about my background in the face of so much perfection.

"I'm sorry, Bella. That must have been hard for you," Edward had set his fork down and now he drew a hand over his eyes in frustration. "Fuck."

"What?" I couldn't figure out what had upset him.

"Every time we talk it seems like I say something boneheaded. That thing about college at the game, and now your mom."

"Hey," I reached out and put my hand on his forearm. Tingles. Stop it. "You just had a different life than I did. I'm not sorry about anything that's happened to me, since I like how everything's turned out so far."

He smiled softly at me and relaxed. I quickly slipped my hand back into my lap. Touching him, even innocently, was intoxicating and dangerous.

After that moment, we chatted easily through the rest of dinner, mostly about Seattle. He'd left a couple of years before I arrived, but we'd been there close enough to the same time to have a lot of common memories.

"Did you ever go to Crazy Rick's?" I asked him.

"That little coffee shop just off campus, on the corner of 11th? I fucking loved that place! I haven't thought about it in years."

"It was my favorite. Rick made the best latte in Seattle, which is saying something."

Edward sighed in memory. "I remember now. The absolute best lattes. The foam was so thick your spoon would stand up by itself. I'd forgotten all about that place. That's not what it was really called though, was it?"

"Oh, no. It was called Coffee Café, or something totally generic and lame. But Rick was insane, so everybody just called it Crazy Rick's place. Remember how he would scream obscenities at you if you took too long to decide what you wanted?"

He threw back his head and laughed, totally free and relaxed. Like I wasn't crazy enough about him already. Now he was reminiscing with me about my favorite haunts back home. He was so fucking perfect for me, and yet so far out of my reach at the same time. Why did he have to be him? Why couldn't he just be nobody? Rose was right. He was designed to break my heart. Just not quite how she meant it.

We polished off the first bottle of wine and were working our way well into the second. Dinner was mostly done, but still we sat, picking at the remnants of the food, sipping our wine, talking about home, soaking up the golden twilight still filtering into the room. I wasn't drunk, but I was definitely feeling a warm glow from the wine. And I was enjoying staring at Edward a little too much for comfort and he was staring back, so I decided it was time to tear myself away and move back to the kitchen for clean up. Edward leapt to his feet and happily dove in, helping me clear the table.

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EPOV

I was glad to be busy, shuttling back and forth to the kitchen, carting plates and glasses. I needed a little breather. She just kept getting more perfect, and the pull I felt towards her, the compulsion to be with her, just kept getting stronger. If she hadn't shot up and started to clear the table, I think I might have leapt across it and attacked her.

Of course, now every time I came back into the kitchen, I was treated to a glimpse of Bella standing in front of the sink with her back to me, exactly where she was standing before dinner when she had reached up as an afterthought and yanked those fucking chopsticks out of her hair, sending those glorious mahogany curls tumbling down her back. Then she'd arched her back a little and run her fingers through her hair to shake it out. I swear I could smell her strawberry scent from where I stood across the room as she did it. My hands clenched into fists as I fought the impulse to just reach out and wrap that damned stunning hair around my hands and spin her around into me…

But we were having such a great evening. It was exactly what I wanted when I came over here. Me and her alone, with all the other bullshit repressed and shoved away. It was so easy between us like this, and I wanted to drag it out and enjoy it. Attacking her would likely draw the evening to a resounding and awkward close. So I tried to forget the sight of her hair tumbling down her back, and the sight of the wine-induced blush in her cheeks as we laughed over dinner. I would behave, help her clean up, and go home. I could at least do that much without fucking up, right? Right.

Coming back through the kitchen, I snagged the last glass, left next to the stove, and stepped up behind her to set it next to the sink. She had been reaching up to turn the water back on, but seemed to change her mind abruptly and decide to head back to the dining room. She turned suddenly, and she clearly didn't expect me to be standing as close as I was.

She froze, with her little hands drawn up in front of her in surprise.

I froze, my arm still stretched out to the counter to her right.

My brain was telling me what I should do, but the rest of me wasn't listening.

I should drop my arm and get out of her personal space.

I should shoot her an embarrassed smile and say something funny to lighten the moment.

I should step aside and let her pass by to the dining room.

I didn't do any of those things.

I stood right where I was, trapping her between the counter and my body. I stopped breathing. So did she. Her chin was down, but she was looking up at me through her crazy long eyelashes. My hand reached up without my knowing I was doing it and my fingers skimmed along her jaw, just barely touching her face. I moved forward imperceptibly and we were touching along the entire length of our bodies. I felt like I was going to explode from the sensation, the warmth of her. I never made the decision to kiss her, but then I was lowering my head, nudging her chin up towards me with my fingers. I brushed my lips over hers gently, once, then again. This was so different than that night by the car, slow and intimate and sexy. I ghosted across her lips a third time, then stopped and pressed more firmly, gently opening my mouth over hers. Her lips opened readily underneath me. I tasted her bottom lip with my tongue, then slipped into her mouth. Fuck. I felt her tongue crash into mine and a moan escaped my throat involuntarily.

I slid my hand around her neck to grasp the back of her head and I did what I'd been thinking about all night…I tangled my fingers tight into her glorious hair and yanked her into me. I grasped her right hip with my other hand and drew her hard against my hips. Her hands, which had been trapped helplessly between us now skated up my chest and she grasped my hair hard, pulling my head down to her. She wanted me. I could feel it coming off of her in waves. As much as I wanted her. And it was there again, that electric explosion, the same as the night I kissed her by the car. Except now it was heightened by my emotions, stoked from days and days of denial, and tension and desire. Never had I felt anything like this, like every nerve ending in my body was responding to her lightest touch. Never had I wanted anyone this badly. I ached with it. Was it this consuming for her I wondered? She arched her back and pressed further into me and at that moment I thought that maybe it was. Fuck this. I'm done. I couldn't stop this, I had to have her…all of her. Fucking consequences be damned.

We were both gasping for air, so I broke off from her perfect, soft mouth and moved my lips to the tender spot on her neck, just below her ear. I flicked my tongue out gently against her and she moaned, her head falling to the side to grant me better access. My lips continued to skim her throat while my hands snaked to her waist and then up her torso. I was dragging that thin undershirt up with my fingers as I went. My fingertips felt electrified as I touched the soft silky skin of her abdomen and she gasped at the sensation. I wanted to sweep my tongue along her skin after my hands. I wanted my hands on that tantalizing dark blue silky bra that I'd been staring at all night long. I just wanted…My thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts and her breath caught in her throat. My hands came up and covered her perfect breasts fully, squeezing her gently, moaning against her neck. I'd never been so hard in my life. She moaned in response and pushed her chest into my hands.

I skated my lips up her neck and along her jawline, back to her slightly swollen mouth and our lips crashed together again in another desperate kiss. My tongue plunged deep into her mouth and she let me in, arching back as I pressed harder into her. I pulled back a little and gently bit her full bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth as I reached down and grasped the backs of her thighs, just below her ass and pulled her in tight against me. She moaned against my mouth. I slid my hand down her right leg and pulled on the back of her knee. Her leg came up and I hooked it over my hip and pushed further in against her. This time we both moaned at the intimate contact. She tore her mouth from mine and whispered hot little open-mouthed kisses along my jaw as I gasped for air in the silky hollow between her neck and her shoulder. This was too much and nowhere near enough. Her mouth slipped up to my earlobe and she flicked it with her tongue. Then she drew my earlobe into her mouth and…she bit me.

"Bella…" My rasping voice sounded far away and unfamiliar to me as her name was forced from my lips. I gripped her hair tightly in my hand and yanked her mouth back to mine.

I slid my hand up her leg, behind her knee, my palm sliding up the back of her silky thigh, pushing her skirt up as I went. My fingertips were at the edge of her panties. A tiny tight strangled sound came from the back of her throat. My fingers brushed over her.

"You feel so good," I rasped against her mouth. She gasped and gripped my hair so hard it hurt. But it felt good.

"Edward…" my name fell from her lips as a stifled little plea and I was nearly undone by it.

We needed to find a bed…like now. If we stood here another minute I would end up just taking her on the kitchen floor, and Bella deserved better than that for our first time together.

"Bella…please…the bedroom…" I muttered against her lips.

"Yes…." She whispered, gasping against my mouth.

And then the doorbell rang.

We froze. I pulled my face far enough away from her to make eye contact. Her eyes were wide, confused, frantic. We were panting against each other's mouths. We heard the door open. Fuck. I hadn't locked it behind me when I came in, I had been so panicked to find her.

I pulled my fingers away from her, her leg dropped off my hip, her skirt slipped back into place.

"Bella? Hey, Bells!"

Jasper.

Fucking Jasper Hale.

Bella's eyes went wide with shock and horror and she shoved me away from her. I staggered back and instantly mourned the loss of her body against mine.