A/N: Thank you so much for the love on the last chapter of this lil story and for your many reviews! It really does warm my heart and I do hope you keep them coming!

I am also going to start adding a disclaimer to the beginning of each chapter that this is purely fictional - I do not condone or encourage illegal relationships! :)

VEX

The next three days pass by at an achingly slow pace and, when the final bell rings out on Friday afternoon, I wish that it were Monday already. At the beginning of the year, I was grateful that our English lessons had been grouped together on the first two days of the week. Now, with our new substitute at the helm, I was desperate to be back in that classroom.

It had been seventy-two long hours since my last interaction with Edward Cullen and I was having withdrawal symptoms.

Badly.

With every waking moment, the image of him holding me against the classroom whiteboard perforated my thoughts, and it was very much enough to send my mind into overdrive. I paid little attention to what was going on around me for the days that followed, living mainly in the luxury of my imagination, and I reveled in the secret that I now possessed.

Staying true to my word, I hadn't told anyone about our time together after school, no matter how much the girls pestered me for information. I didn't want to risk him retracting his offer, and I was intrigued by what I needed to do to be rewarded with his touch. My mind was a flurry of possibilities and schemes.

If truth be told, I was willing to do anything to benefit our little arrangement.

As hordes of students filter out of the front doors, buzzing for the upcoming weekend, I follow tradition, sauntering along beside Alice and Rosalie. They share in the collective excitement, chatting together in shrill voices and hanging onto one another's arms. I am clueless as to what they're talking about – I'm too busy surveying the parking lot for Edward's silver Volvo, but it seems to have already disappeared.

I sigh softly.

"What are you wearing tonight, Bella?" Alice asks me over her shoulder as she presses the unlock button on her keys, the lights on her Porsche flashing twice.

"Huh? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

She tuts at me, but Rosalie giggles.

"To the party tonight! The Res boys are having one down at Seth's house. Did Al not tell you?"

My dark-haired friend doesn't even look at me as she throws her bag onto the passenger seat and slides on a pair of sunglasses. The sky is grey and cloudy; she looks fucking stupid.

"Oh, fuck, did I not tell you? Yeah, there's a party. Tons of hot boys our age. You in?"

Running my tongue across my teeth, I narrow my eyes for a moment. What had gotten into her recently?

"Yeah, I'd really like that actually," I say, smiling eagerly.

"We were planning on heading into Port Angeles if you wanna come? I need a new dress if I want to pull Paul tonight."

Rosalie's question has a warm tone to it, and I turn my attention to her as I agree, trying not to focus on Alice's strange coldness. She is already sat in her car, typing away on her phone, and is grinning somewhat mischievously.

I'm puzzled. I've noticed her doing that quite often nowadays.

We arrange to meet each other outside our destination and drive to Port Angeles in separate cars. I tail Rosalie the whole time as Alice takes the lead, and I'm grateful for the space. I didn't know what I had done to piss Alice off, but I wasn't about to waste my time trying to find out.

I have way more important things to think about.

Our destination is some clothing store on the Port Angeles strip, if you can even call it that. If truth be told, it is a row of shops in the heart of the town that, at a push, appeals to girls our age. Forks isn't well-known for trendy clothing stores, so we're often forced to make the journey here.

Luckily, the coffee shop next door serves really nice lattes, so I can forgive the trip in one aspect.

When we finally arrive, the shop is quiet, and we are the only customers inside, allowing us to freely scour the rails. Rosalie quickly finds a skin-tight black dress, and even Alice picks up a pair of stilettos to try on. I don't find anything, but we all still squeeze into one of the dressing rooms, jostling around in the tight space.

"So, Paul, ey?" I ask Rosalie as she slides the material over her body. Her eyes immediately sparkle at the mention of his name.

We'd only interacted with the Res boys a couple of times, attending a few of their parties and exchanging some flirty glances. It was common knowledge, though, that Paul was the local bad boy, so it didn't surprise me that Rose was interested.

"Urgh, yes! Honestly, he does things to me, Bells – things I can't repeat. Hopefully, there'll be some spare rooms tonight in Seth's house."

"You're gonna go all out on the first date?" Alice queries; her tone is frosty again, and it irritates me.

"Excuse me, we looked at one another last time," Rosalie quips in response, and I'm glad she didn't react badly. I wouldn't have had the same control. "We're practically married."

"I say go for it! He's quite cute." I assure.

"Cuter than Mr. Cullen?" I see Rosalie wink in the mirror, and my cheeks start to burn.

This is new.

I shake my head. "Absolutely not – no one's cuter than him."

Rosalie and I both laugh, and Alice rolls her eyes.

"Come on, Bells, this is ridiculous. He's old enough to be your dad!"

"Which means he's definitely old enough to be your daddy." Rosalie teases and it makes me smile again.

At least one of them was optimistic.

"Rose, don't encourage her! He's fucking strange."

"Renee said he was only thirty-five…" I trail off when she groans.

"Yeah, which means he's seventeen years old than you."

"And?"

"On its own, that sounds illegal."

"I'm of age," I say, now getting more annoyed.

"Yeah, like your dad, aka the chief of the fucking police, is gonna care about that."

Now, I'm the one to groan.

"Al, are you able to have fun for once in your miserable life?"

Alice glares at me before turning back to her own reflection, playing with her hair. "Bite me, Bells. I'm just fed up with talking about Creepy Cullen all the fucking time."

I can feel my irritation growing, and it doesn't help that we are standing right beside one another.

"Fine, let's leave it then."

"What? No, I still want to know what happened on Tuesday!" Rosalie finally says, breaking the swelling tension. "You never got round to telling us."

Knowing that Alice is probably going to make some face, I keep my eyes on my other friend's reflection.

"Uhm, there's not much to say. Like I said before, we had a chat about the book, he gave me some extra work to do, and then I went home. It was pretty boring, to be honest."

"Yeah, and the sky is purple." Rose teases, sliding the dress back down her body. "Spill the beans."

"There's nothing to say! Tell her, Al!"

Alice holds her hands up in fake surrender. "I'm not getting involved."

"Fine, when she pulls the stick from out her ass, she can show you the texts. Nothing happened."

"You'll be waiting a little while for that one," Alice says beneath her breath and I finally lose it, the anger now bubbling inside of me.

"What is your problem? Since when did you become such a bitch?"

She turns towards me. "Since you decided to become a grave robber."

"It's none of your fucking business what I do."

"It is when you don't stop talking about it."

"Stop asking me about it then."

"I have!"

"Seriously," Rosalie's voice echoes around the enclosed space and we all slip into silence. Some generic pop songs playing over the speakers fills the void, and I notice Alice is breathing heavier. "Can you both stop arguing? I'm ready to buy this and I'm desperate for a coffee, but I don't wanna get it if you're both gonna act like children!"

With a huff, Alice slides her feet out of the stilettos and pushes through the dressing room's curtain, muttering something about meeting us next door. Rosalie shrugs and continues to get dressed while I focus on calming down.

"Sorry, Rose, I don't know what happened there." Staring down at my flats, I'm unsure as to how I feel. I want to be angry at Alice, but my love for her holds me back. She is my best friend and she never usually behaves like this.

There has to be something else going on.

"Honestly, Bells, don't worry about it. She's been like it since Monday – I have no clue what's going on with her."

"She seems to be taking it out on me though."

With another shrug, Rosalie folds the dress over her arm. "Beats me. She probably just needs a drink. Good to go?"

I nod. Walking out of the dressing room together, Rosalie heads straight for the tills and I decide to traipse down the aisles again while I wait for her. Fingering the sleeve of a purple blouse, I scour the shop as I walk, looking out for Alice's short bob.

I'm not paying attention to my surroundings.

With another step, I collide with something strong and warm. It feels like a chest, and a man's one at that.

I glance upwards.

"Hello, Miss. Swan," Mr. Cullen looks amused as he glances down at me, smirking. He is wearing a grey shirt, and I figure that he has come here straight from school. In his hand, he holds a paper shopping bag, embellished with a picture of a high-heel. "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," My heart rate speeds up as I take in his glorious appearance and the nerves between my legs start to throb. God, how I've missed you. "I didn't think you would enjoy shopping for woman's clothing."

"I don't. I was dragged into it," He says and laughs, although it sounds more like a heavy exhale. "My legs don't look that good in a skirt. Not like yours do."

My lips twitch, fighting back a smile of my own. "Does that mean you've been checking out my legs, Sir?"

Mr. Cullen shakes his head. "Don't ask silly questions, Isabella. You already know that answer."

"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it."

Stepping forwards, he closes the gap between us slightly, and I'm grateful that the clothing rails are quite tall. "I wish I'd known that I would see you here. I would have worn something smarter."

"Smarter than this?" I purr, playfully toying with one of his short buttons as I hold his gaze. "I think you look quite dashing."

"I can assure you, Miss. Swan, flattery won't get me to touch you."

I bat my eyelids. "That doesn't mean I can't give it a try."

He chuckles again. "I didn't think you would shop at a place like this, to be honest."

"We only come here occasionally. There's a party tonight and it's too late to order anything."

Mr. Cullen raises his eyebrows; I wonder what he is thinking. "A party? Did you find anything to wear?"

"No. It's all too old woman-y for me."

This time, when he smiles, it is neither amused nor teasing. It actually looks quite longing. Lifting his free hand, he brushes a curl away from my face. "Where is this party then?"

"The Reservation, near La Push. Have you had the chance to visit? There's a few boys that throw parties down there quite often."

He shakes his head. "No, I haven't been here long enough. Will there be a lot of underage drinking going on at this party?"

"Of course not, Sir," I reassure, lying through my teeth. "I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"I think you and I both know that you're incapable of behaving yourself."

I twirl my hair around my index finger, smirking. "Is that a problem, Sir?"

"It is when I'm not around."

Holding one another's gazes, I feel the walls of the shop begin to fade away and my stomach starts to flip-flop. There isn't anyone else around, and we are quite well hidden. What would he do if I just…?

"Edward, baby, are you ready to go?"

The appearance of a light-haired woman beside Mr. Cullen startles me and I jump away from him, his body now hiding her form. To anyone with a pair of eyes, it is obvious that we have been doing something we aren't supposed to be doing. I just pray that this mysterious lady doesn't have any connections with the Academy.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were done." He says, placing an arm around her shoulder.

My vision turns red.

"It's no worries, Eddie," Eddie! "They've only just rung me up. Who's your friend?"

Stepping to the side, I'm finally able to get a good look at this woman's face, and I really wish that I hadn't bothered. She is stunning, in a supermodel-esque way, and it doesn't surprise me that she is hanging from his arm. Her skin is smooth, glowing in the florescent lights above us, and her figure is slender, enviable. She can't be much older than Edward and, if anything, she even looks younger, which only angers me more.

If these were the kind of people that he was usually involved with, I no longer stood a chance.

"Oh, she's not my friend," Edward gestures towards me and I try my hardest to keep a straight face. "This is Isabella Swan. She's a student in one of my English classes."

The woman's beautiful face becomes animated, stretching into an exaggerated smile, and suddenly wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tightly.

Edward watches on, clearly entertained, and I no longer want him to ravage me in this aisle. No – I now want to smack him in the face.

As she pulls away from me, the woman continues to hold me, now at arm's length and her smile is somehow wider. "Oh, how wonderful to meet you! My name is Esme. Edward has been telling me lots about his lessons. He seems to be settling in really well, or so I've heard."

Giving him a sideways glance, it takes me a moment to assess how I'm going to handle this. I could be petty, and reply with some sarcastic comment, but I don't want to emphasize how young I actually am. Instead, I smile back and match Esme's excitement, although I feel like my performance is slightly more fraudulent.

"Yes, he is. He's a great teacher! One of the best I've ever had!"

Esme looks over at Edward and the love in her eyes is undeniable. Now, I want to smack her too. "That is really lovely to hear, Isabella. I'm incredibly proud of my boy!"

For a moment, my mind ruminates on her pet name for him. Who was she? Perhaps she was some cougar who enjoyed preying on younger men? I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

"Great…" Stepping back from Esme's grasp, I inch back slowly, but I'm desperate to run away. "I've got to go and meet my friends now. I'll see you on Monday, Sir."

As I retreat, Edward keeps an eye on me, taking the bag from Esme's hand. My heart contracts. "Goodbye, Isabella. Take care of yourself tonight."

"Whatever you say!" I call back, keeping my voice light while my mind descends into darkness.

How had I been so stupid? Of course, he was going to have some other woman on the go! He's gorgeous, jaw-dropping, a God amongst men – did I really think he would fall for some lowly schoolgirl?

Usually, my confidence was solid, and I never doubted the power I possessed in my physique. Now, I wondered whether I looked frumpy in my uniform, and was incredibly angry at the limpness of my hair. His enchantment was destroying me, but I couldn't keep myself from exploring the agony that tempted me so strongly.

What is this man doing to me?

"Who was that, Bella?" Rosalie asks when I finally join her at the front of the shop, and I've never been more grateful to see her quizzical expression.

"No-one," I say as I breeze past her, grabbing her arm as I go. I try not to stare at the bag in her hand; it matches Esme's and makes my heart hurt. "Do you think they'll be able to put a shot of vodka in my latte?"

The liquor bottle in my hand is weighty and demanding, and I wince as I bring it up to my red-tinted lips. Knocking it backward, I allow the crystalline liquid to dance around in my mouth momentarily before forcing it down, sneering as it burns the back of my throat.

The house we are in trembles with the bass of some house song, emanating from speakers that line the expansive front room, and the force they produce is debilitating.

Bodies – hot, ravenous bodies – gyrate against one another, gasping, panting, eager for the taste of pleasure. The three of us are at the center, allowing hands to roam over every inch of our bare flesh. My skin grows sticky as I throw my hips from side-to-side, thankful that I chose to wear my shortest denim skirt. I dance against one of the Res guys – I don't know his name – and I allow myself to be engulfed by his towering frame.

Buried in his dominance, the manly hands that grope at my assets are coarse and littered with callouses – they are clearly the hands of a working man. Usually, my past self would revel in this dominance, and the intensity of this boy's manliness, but, as his hips move against mine, there is something that isn't sitting right within me.

He excites me, but, at the same time, I'm not excited enough. He is broad but too broad, and I long for his body to be slightly lither in build. The lips that occasionally graze my ear are plump, but they don't make me shiver like he did.

He is good, but not quite good enough.

Alice and Rosalie have found partners of their own in the swirling mass and I watch as their pale skin stands out against tanned arms, glistening under the multi-colored lights. Paul already has his hands tangled in Rose's blonde tresses and his tongue shoved down her throat. I don't want to watch, but I also can't bring myself to look away.

How I ache for Edward to hold me the way Paul does, his hands gripping my curves, unable to let me go, even for just a moment. Something animalistic burns inside of me as I picture him in the place of my friend, dancing behind me, our sweaty bodies blending into one.

The bass continues to thump through the room and the bottle in my hand has left me buzzing, but not enough to really enjoy myself.

I keep picturing Edward in the arms of another woman, one that isn't me. There was something unsettling about his closeness to Esme today at the shop. There was a bond there; something I couldn't quite work out, but so desperately wanted to discover.

The image of his lips brushing against her's is enough to make my head spin and the juice in my stomach begins to sour. An acidic taste explodes in my mouth as I continue.

I'm starting to feel sick.

"I'm just going to get some air," I call out into the crowd around me, but no-one pays much attention.

Pushing through the insatiable bodies, I appreciate the crisp Washington air that hits my lungs. I bend over in an attempt to calm the nauseous feeling that washes over me in waves, and a warm hand rubs against the small of my back.

"You alright, girl?" A manly voice asks, but it is not one that I recognize.

Waving my hand around carelessly, I hope that he leaves me alone.

"Do you need me to call someone for you?"

He wraps an arm around my stomach and starts to lift me, but the nauseous sensation starts to build once more. I start waving my hand around again.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help-"

Without warning, my body collapses against the sandy floor, and a flurry of concerned voices erupts from around me. The boy lets go of me as he is pushed away, colliding with the exterior of the house. In the fall, I have closed my eyes, and I'm too concerned to open them again.

If anyone were about to have a fight, my stomach definitely wouldn't survive the sight of blood.

"She doesn't need your help."

The male voice I hear now is new and strong; more mature than the squeaky tone of the boy before. The gruff strength of his words is enough to send shivers down my spine.

I know this voice.

I'd been dreaming about it all week.

Was it really…?

"I was just trying to help her, man. She looked like she was about to pass out."

"Well, I can take it from here, man," I hear the boy's body crash against the house once more before footsteps start to approach my crumpled form.

Lifting me up from the floor, my rescuer cradles me against his chest, and I allow my head to slump against it. His build is unmistakable. It's the very same chest I encountered early on that day.

"How did you-?" My voice slurs and I can barely lift my head back up.

"Shhh, I'm here now, Bella," Edward whispers into my ear, rubbing a thumb against my back. "You're all okay. I've got you."

Another chapter under our belt and more tension! I love it!

Let me know what you think - review, rec, whatever you please!

Happy reading :D