Enjoy.

Chapter 10: A Date

I had never felt so nervous before in my life as I stood in the Ambassador Theater restroom staring at my reflection. Suddenly, the slinky, black, strapless dress that Rosalie insisted was "made for me" and told me I had to buy, seemed far too tight and way too short. I began nervously alternating between pulling down the back hem, to make sure my hind end wasn't peeking out, and pulling up the front to make sure my chest was still covered—even though the dress hadn't budged an inch since zipping it up. I couldn't believe Rosalie had talked me into getting another dress when I had a perfectly fine dress in my hotel room that would now probably never get worn. But I succumbed to Rose's persuasion when I had stood there showing Rose the dress and a couple of girls—who could have easily been models—walked by, stopped and commented on how fabulous it looked on me.

Now I was suspicious that they were paid by the store—people who looked like random shoppers, paid to tell people they looked great in something they weren't sure about buying. If that job didn't exist, it probably should, because I'll be damned if right after that, I wasn't running my credit card through the machine.

Sigh.

More shocking than my caving into buying the unneeded dress, I'd actually bought new shoes I didn't need too. Rosalie insisted I had to have them because they made my legs "look like sex" and they "were as if they were made for my dress." They were more than I'd ever paid for shoes and higher heels than I'd ever before dared to venture into to top it off. But after my initial unsteadiness—wondering if tonight I would end up in an ER instead of with Edward—I was happily surprised to find I'd gotten used to them and barely fumbled now.

I had to admit, I did feel incredibly sexy in the dress and shoes—when I wasn't worried about my butt peeking out of the back, my breasts popping up out of the front or breaking an ankle with the heels, that is.

I had done up my eyes again, though not as dramatically as I'd done for the concert. "Subtly sultry," as Rose called it when she'd approved, voicing again her inability to understand if I was able to dress up my eyes so expertly, why I didn't do it more often. To my hair, I'd added root booster to give it volume, but otherwise left it alone, so it waved thickly, spilling over my shoulders and down my back.

Rose had found a blue dress that brought out her violet-blue eyes, making them practically glow. She pulled her hair loosely at the back of her head, leaving wavy, golden tendrils curling freely away from the knot. The final result: she looked effortlessly stunning, as usual.

The show had just let out and we'd made a quick stop at the restroom to freshen up. Ladies were filing in and out as I checked again, in the large, full length mirror in the sitting area of the room, to make sure my dress was still covering all my essential areas. Rose was touching up her eyes when she looked away from her own reflection and stared at mine.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Call him."

Emmett had called Rose again earlier, while we were shopping and told her that he would be with Edward, waiting for us somewhere outside the Ambassador Theater. And since I'd already agreed to call Edward when the show let out, they kept that plan.

I shook myself out of my immobilizing fear and pulled my phone out of my purse—the one part of my ensemble I'd been able to convince Rose I could use out of what she'd already had me buy before the trip. It was a black clutch that had a small chain attached to the zipper. On the other end of the chain was a silver hoop that was just big enough to slip your hand through to wear it like a bracelet instead of having to hold onto it the entire time.

I took a deep breath, brought up Edward's number, said a silent prayer to a nameless, faceless deity, and for the first time, called him. I found myself holding my breath as I put the phone to my ear—the stress was so overwhelming I wondered if I was going to pass out. Even though I'd seen he'd called me from that very number earlier in the day, I had this horrible fear that it would be a disconnected or wrong number.

I could feel the sheen of nervous sweat threaten to break across my skin as I heard the first ring. Whatever deity who'd heard my prayer, answered it because before the phone had a chance to ring a second time, I heard Edward's velvety voice on the other end and I felt myself instantly relax for the briefest of seconds, before butterflies started assaulting me.

Edward explained how to find them, and signed off with the promise of seeing me in a minute.

"What's going on?" Rose demanded, concerned about my confused expression. "What did he say?"

Instead of replying, I shook my head and led the way out of the ladies room in search of what Edward had told me to look for.

I spotted the man almost immediately. He was standing right where Edward had said he'd be, near the exit doors. The tall, uniformed man, who appeared to be in his fifties, looked just as he was described. He was diligently scanning the crowd of people milling about and leaving the theater, as if looking for Rose and I, though I didn't know how this stranger would have been able to pick out a couple of women he'd never met before.

"Bell, seriously, what did he say?" Rose demanded, point-blank.

"I think we're supposed to tell that guy," I explained pointing out the uniformed man, "who we are and he will bring us to Edward and Emmett." The statement came out like a question with my uncertainty. It sounded ridiculous, like some cheesy super-spy movie and it didn't make any more sense when I had said it out loud—in fact, it made it sound even more peculiar.

"What?" Rosalie asked, confirming that it was not just me who felt the whole thing was odd.

I shrugged and led the way towards the man. There was only one way to find out if the instructions were kosher. Rose followed behind me curiously.

"Excuse me," I said to the gentleman who was still thoroughly scanning the crowd. Before I could say anything further, the man looked at me flashing me a relieved smile and spoke.

"Miss Bella and Miss Rosalie," he dipped his head, his voice full of recognition and relief.

"Yes," we admitted in tandem, both of our voices betrayed our confusion.

"How did you know who we were?" I asked feeling like it was a stupid question, but a bit unsettled that a man I didn't know from Eve, knew exactly who Rose and I were with one quick glance.

Rose shot me a confused glance full of questions, but I shook my head; I had no explanation.

"I've been expecting the two of you," he answered formally, as if that explanation answered my question. "This way, ladies."

"No," I pressed stupidly, as he led the way out, holding the doors for us. "I was told you were expecting us, but how did you know we were who you were waiting for?"

"I remember you from last night, Miss Bella. I was driver who dropped you off at your hotel at the end of the evening," he answered with a simple smile, as if it was to be expected that he would remember us perfectly, as he forged ahead now that we were outside.

"Oh," I said lamely, trailing behind him, feeling a surge of guilt for having no memory of him, when he obviously remembered us, as if we'd known one another our entire lives. "Sorry, I guess I should have recognized you too." The man had even helped us out of the car when we were dropped off last night—well, this morning. I tried to make myself feel better by reminding myself that Edward had me in my own little world, but I still felt terrible. I had even spoken to him, but his features, hadn't registered.

Rosalie walked along beside me, listening to our exchange, but said nothing.

"Thank you miss, but your apology isn't warranted. It is my job to not only be good at navigating the city, but to know names and faces. It's your job to just enjoy the city. I wouldn't expect you to remember me," he said with a smile, as he stopped in front of a black limo with dark tinted glass and opened the door for us.

I stood there for a moment while he gave Rose a hand stepping into the car ahead of me. He had brown eyes, framed by crinkly smile lines, which made him seem cheerful even when not smiling. He was tall with dark grey hair—fatherly looking. I noticed the name tag he wore and caught the name as he moved to take my hand to help me into the vehicle: Charlie—the same as my dad's. Between his fatherly appearance and sharing my dad's name, I was positive he was now etched into my memory.

"Thank you Charlie," I said softly with a meek smile, not fully able to meet his eyes—still abashed, feeling bad for the faux pas of not remembering someone who remembered me.

"You are most welcome, Miss Bella," Charlie grinned wider with my effort to know his name.

I slid into the seat and Charlie closed the door behind me.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Edward's velvety voice rustled in my ear the moment the door was shut. I turned and was met by his shocking green eyes, mere inches from mine. They drew me in and melted me through in a way that already felt familiar. I drew in a sharp breath with the strength of the feeling, realizing my memory hadn't done them justice. And even better, my contented breath pulled in the blissful smell of sunshine and honey that was all Edward.

Mmmm…

"I did. Thank you." I said my voice unsteady with the last word as Edward leaned in to give me a chaste peck on the cheek that set me ablaze with desire, wanting to claim his mouth and taste him again.

"Hey spinner girl!" Emmett piped up saving me from pouncing on Edward. "Did you get littler since the last time I saw you?" He laughed. I looked up to see he and Rose were sitting tightly next to one another, limbs semi-entangled. I was just about to ask him point-blank what a spinner was, to end my curiosity once and for all, when Emmett turned to Edward, "Seriously, bro, she's got to be almost as little as Alice!"

I felt a wave of jealousy surge through me at the mention of another woman. Who was Alice? Emmett wouldn't bring up an ex-girlfriend of Edward's in front of me… would he? No.

Well… Edward did say Emmett didn't filter. Maybe he would.

"Em, please don't compare Alice to a spinner. It's bad enough you insist on calling Bella that when I really wish you wouldn't. Besides, Alice is a hyper little pixie. Bella's not a pixie," Edward piped up. I couldn't help but feel ten shades of jade of this Alice person.

"Ugh. For the record, I did not, nor would I ever, refer to Alice as a spinner—that would be just wrong. I compared Bella to Alice. You're right though, Bella's not a hyped up little pixie," Emmett conceded. "And what's so wrong with me calling Bella a spinner anyway? It's not a bad thing! And dude, you can't deny that she is one," he added gesturing towards me as if whatever a spinner was, it was obvious I was one as he threw me a grin and a wink before turning back to Rose. He eyed her up and down appreciatively. He leaned in, whispered something into her ear and then began to enthusiastically kiss her neck.

Awkward. I looked away, uncomfortable with their display, and decided to not press the spinner comment until later. Besides, at least I knew now that Emmett considered it a compliment though I was confused as to why it would be wrong to call the Alice person one.

With the display Rose and Emmett were putting on, I wondered why Rose was so worried about me. Then I suddenly realized that Rose hadn't told me much of anything about her and Emmett and what did or didn't happen the night before between the two of them. She had been too wrapped up in finding new dresses all afternoon.

"You look… amazing," Edward said pulling me from my internal dialogue, sincerity dripping from his words, causing me to blush with my quickened pulse.

"Thank you," I mumbled, embarrassed by the compliment and fidgeted with my dress. "So do you," I admitted peeking up and was rewarded with my favorite crooked smile. It was nothing short of the truth. He did look amazing. He was wearing a pair of black pants and a button up dress shirt, partially undone, showing the smallest glimpse of a white undershirt, paired with his scruffy face and bronze hair that seemed constantly disheveled. He looked like…sex, simply ravishing.

And oh how I wanted to ravish him.

What was wrong with me? I'd never been like this before in my life! I'd always just figured I was the only person in my family that had been born without a raging sex drive. Renee and Charlie still embarrassingly acted like newlyweds a lot of the time. Renee was always dying to hear detailed "girl talk" from her daughters. In turn, Jess always dished her love-life details to Renee, her friend Lauren or myself without reservation, whether I wanted to hear it or not—and I never did want to hear about it, but always was made to. And then there was Jake who was about as bad as Mom and Dad were when he was around Leah. I had really never gotten the whole hand-holding thing or even touching much at all, in general. But now? With Edward? I would all but kill to have him hold my hand—to touch me in any and every way imaginable. Edward made all the difference. Edward made me come alive when I hadn't even known how stoic I'd been my whole life.

As if reading my mind, knowing my body begged for his touch, Edward reached over and casually rested his hand on my bare thigh, shooting a strong, burning desire through me, amplified by the fact that my mind was already on Edward and sex.

I found myself having to tie up and gag my newly discovered inner floozy, who had nearly succeeded getting me to grab Edward's hand and slide it up under the skirt of my dress, dragging it up that short distance and pressing his fingers against my sex.

I crossed my legs, clutched my purse and held the world's longest Kegel; holding reign over her. Then, when the car had stopped, arriving at a restaurant, Edward slid his hand down my leg, leaving a flash of heat followed by a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his fiery touch, to my knee where he finally pulled his hand away.

Edward exited and then turned to help me out of the car. But as soon as I stood, he dropped my hand, stepped away from me and shoved his hands in his pockets. I felt a wave of disappointment and hurt, as years of insecurities made me feel like he was embarrassed of me. I followed behind him trying to piece together his mood shift and mixed body signals, from just a moment ago in the car, until now.

We were seated in the back corner of the restaurant, not in a separate room this time, but in a spot that was semi obscured and away from most of the tables. The hostess led us around so we didn't walk by too many tables, only drawing a small amount of chattered attention, as we passed through to where we were seated.

The conversation between Edward and I flowed as easily as it had the night before. We laughed, joked and, more than once, locked eyes so intently that Rose and Emmett—and once the wait staff—had to break us out of our electric moment. But yet, despite what his eyes were saying, the fact he seemed intently fascinated about every mundane facet of my existence, or his flirting, many of his answers and explanations were still stilted and cryptic, and even more confusing, it seemed as if he was determined to not touch me—going out of his way in fact.

The mixed signals I was getting from him confused me and festered doubt. Plus, being in his presence without his touch, made me realize just how addicted to it I had become. Being without it felt like being denied air—critical for survival and torturous to endure.

Then there were also times where it felt as if he was saying goodbye. Or as if he was trying to tell me I should stay away from him. But then in the next breath, telling me he hoped he could see me again before Rose and I left the city. The inconsistencies were puzzling me to no end.

"Hey," Edward said, calling my attention out of my endless looping questions as he swiped his thumb across the crease between my eyebrows, smoothing it out and leaned towards me. His touch made my body gasp, as if drawing in a life-saving breath and shot a thrill through my entire body, settling deep inside me. Edward dropped his hand just as I met his eyes. "Is there something the matter?" He asked and his forehead creased in confusion. "You were lost in thought that seemed upsetting to you."

"No," I said shaking my head. There really wasn't anything the matter, I just was having trouble piecing things together, getting them to make sense. Trying to figure him out. "I'm fine," I smiled.

"Bell?" Rose interrupted. "I'm going to go freshen up. Did you want to join me?"

"Sure," I acquiesced, grabbed my purse, and tried to discreetly check to make sure that my hind end was covered by the dress, as I stood up. When we were out of earshot of the guys, I complained, "I don't know how you talked me into this dress, Rose, it's way too short!"

"No. It's not at all. It's perfect," she disagreed. "You look unbelievable in it. Besides, it makes your legs look a mile long. You have great legs; you should show them off more often." She threw me a smile as she opened the bathroom door and added, "You'd be fighting guys off left and right all the time if you made skirts and dresses part of your regular wardrobe, you know."

I scoffed at Rosalie's claim. I doubted that. I still was trying to figure out what miracle had occurred to have Edward wanting to have my company because I'd never done anything in my life good enough to deserve this. I was sure of it.

"So," Rose said after noting that the bathroom was empty, save us. Then she turned about-face on me so fast that I nearly collided with her not expecting her to do so. "Would you care if Emmett and I split?"

"I don't know Rose," I said trying to sound serious, but not quite succeeding, then completely botching it by cracking a smile. "No, go ahead; I don't need to witness any more of you two practically pawing over one another. Where are you going to go?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. He mentioned some place he and Anth—Edward were going to take us to after here, but to be honest with you, I would be surprised if we make it that far," Rosalie confessed, unabashedly.

"Really?" I asked, as Rose practically glowed in anticipation. "Well who am I to stand in the way of you fulfilling the top item of your "To Do" list?" I laughed.

Rose did one last glance in the mirror—flawless, naturally. "Oh that was accomplished last night," she said nonchalantly, turning to head out of the bathroom. "It was just so good I have to go back for more," she added in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she'd been discussing food and not sex.

My jaw dropped as the door shut between us, leaving me in shock. After a moment, realizing I wasn't beside her, Rose poked her head back in, "Are you coming?" she smirked.

"You're kidding?" I breathed.

"No," she said seriously, shaking her head with a smile walking back into the ladies room. "Not everyone is sweet and innocent like you, Bell. Not that it's a bad thing that you're the way you are. I'm not saying that at all, because I kind of wish I was more like you in that way sometimes. But damn it, sometimes a girl just needs to get laid," she said. "So are you going to hang out in the ladies room for the rest of the night, or are you going to come with me back to the table?"

"When the hell did that happen? We were all together the entire night!"

"Let's just say that during the second band's performance, we took advantage of the fact that the VIP room has its own private stairway. Did you know that you can get backstage from those stairs?" she admitted unabashed.

I remembered noting Rose looked practically glowing with her hair up in a messy knot before we headed down to watch Rules of Caius. I'd figured it was just the rush of the fact of who we were hanging out with; apparently it was a post-coital glow.

"Holy crow!" I exclaimed.

"That doesn't even cover it. It was the hottest fucking lay I've ever had—including Jake—which honestly I'd come to terms a long time ago with the fact that he wasn't ever going to be topped."

"Ugh, Rose, I'm well aware of your verdict on how sex was with my brother. I really don't need to be reminded of it," I cringed.

When Rose and I'd begun to hang out, I'd made an attempt to get my two best friends—my brother, Jake and Rosalie—to become friends too. Unfortunately, it backfired; they hated one another and fought incessantly. From the first words they had exchanged they rubbed eachother wrong and it was if they were determined to disagree about everything. That was until Rose came to me one morning, after another night of trying to force the two of them to hang out together, apologizing profusely. She'd explained that after I'd gone to bed—tired of their bickering—one minute they were passionately screaming at one another in an argument and the next they were in the heat of passion. She was afraid I'd hate her for sleeping with my brother, but I was too dumbstruck to feel anything but shock. As soon as she realized I didn't hate her, she had begun blurting out all the explicit sexual details that no sister should ever have to be privy too and that I'd never be able to un-hear. Then she wrapped up her over share by exclaiming she was relieved that I didn't hate her because it had been the hottest sex she'd ever had and definitely wanted to do that again. And unfortunately, since then, she has compared every one of her lovers to him.

Fun for me.

They'd hooked up several times after that too—basically the same scenario replayed—but they had continued to never got along outside of the bedroom, to have had it go anywhere beyond sex.

Then Jake met Leah and he never looked away. Since then, Jake and Rose had developed a more easy camaraderie—almost like family with friendly banter. Jake still doesn't know that Rose ever told me about it, and I'd found out from Leah that she doesn't know about what had gone on between the two of them. She'd mentioned once in conversation with me that she and Jake knew there were people before one another, but they never got into who was in one another's pasts because it didn't matter—it was the past. And that knowing would just cause animosity they didn't need. Besides, who was I to tell her anyway—especially since she didn't want to know?

"Why didn't you say anything before?" I asked pulling my feet from their cemented spot on the floor to step out of the ladies room following Rose.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I was going to. But Edward called you and then I got so caught up in getting ready for tonight, I forgot to mention it, I guess."

"Forgot to mention that?" I asked in disbelief.

Rose just shrugged her shoulders, but otherwise didn't reply. We looked at each other and were overcome by a fit of giggles as we walked to the table. I couldn't help but smile. I was happy for her; after all she'd been through with Royce she deserved some fun and happiness.

When we arrived back at the table, I immediately sat back down, but Rose stood beside her chair and motioned to Emmett to leave. He practically leaped up out of his seat—and I now was pretty certain why.

With hasty goodbyes, they were gone.

"Did you want another drink while we wait for the other car so we can head to the next place?" Edward asked. "I just called for one. It'll be a few minutes. Sorry that we have to wait for it, I thought all of us were going. I didn't know Emmett was going to take off with Rosalie."

"That's okay, I didn't either until a minute ago," I promised. "A drink would be great."

Edward flagged down the server prompting him for another drink for the each of us.

The obvious reason Emmett and Rose left hung in the air and left questions of wants and expectations swirling around us, in between the quiet chatter and clinking of dishes of other couples enjoying their late evening meals. It was the first time that we had something of an uncomfortable silence between us.

"So, where did you grow up?" I asked wanting to dispel the awkwardness and restore the ease we seemed to find with one another.

Edward looked at me confused and taken aback by my simple question. His intensely green eyes bore into mine. "You're serious," he said finally, as the server delivered our drinks.

"Um, yeah, but if you don't want to share that, it's fine," I said worried that my seemingly simple and innocent question was treading on territory that was off limits.

"No. It's not that. It's just that it's been so long since anyone has asked me that. It's been a long time where it has felt like the entire world knows every nuance about me that nothing is mine to share anymore because it's already out there, known by everyone," he said sounding baffled. Then he smiled my favorite crooked smile that made my heart practically leap from my chest. "I was born in Chicago. My family lived there until I was almost a teenager when my dad got a job over in London, England—he's a surgeon—so we lived there for a hand-full of years. Then we moved back to the US in California. Actually my dad took a job in California specifically because Em and I were already both getting serious about acting, and there's no better place to go if you want to act. My parents were amazing, doing that for us; we completely owe our success to their support and belief in us. It actually worked out for my little sister too—who at the time had pouted incessantly about leaving London. Alice ended up being able to get into designing clothes because of an opportunity she'd gotten in California, so she's since forgiven us," he chuckled. His face radiated with obvious pride of his little sister.

I could feel my jealousy instantly disappear over the Alice that was mentioned earlier, finding out that it was their sister and Emmett hadn't mentioned some ex of Edward's.

"It was when we lived over in London," Edward continued, "that Emmett and Demetri became friends, being as how they were schoolmates. And it was then, when I was, for a brief time, in a garage band with Dem and Felix—as you found out last night. Technically, Em was in it too for a while, but that didn't last long since he wasn't serious about playing," he laughed, "He just wanted to pick up girls."

"You never said," I asked taking a drink, "what instruments do you play? I would assume with being in a band like that, you play the guitar?"

"I do," he admitted. "I also play bass and the piano. My mom made all three of us kids take piano lessons. Alice plays exceptionally, but Emmett pitched such a fit to Mom when we were younger about it that she let him quit his lessons," he breathed a laugh at the memory. "But Em started guitar lessons when I started those. He liked the guitar fairly well, because 'chicks dig the guitar,'" he said impersonating his brother's voice, "so he did stick with that, and is actually pretty good at it."

"So who's better, you or Emmett?" I smirked raising an eyebrow in a playful challenge watching him take a drink, reveling in how a man's neck could be so beautiful arched back. I was instantly swirled into a flurry of dizzying images.

Edward breathed a laugh and ran his hand through his hair breaking me from my fantasies. "At the piano, I am without question, but then again Emmett's skills on the piano have only remained to the extent of chopsticks, as he refuses to acknowledge he remembers anything further than that. But as for the guitar, that remains to be seen for certain. Em likes to talk that he can keep pace with me or sometimes claim that he's better—depending on the day—but it's been years since he's agreed to go head-to-head to find out, because I think he knows I can kick his ass." We both laughed and he added, "Honestly, he probably would be a better guitarist than me if he played even half as much as I do. Emmett has down time and he feels like he has to go out, party, and see people. I have free time and I sit down and play."

"So do you travel with a guitar then?" I asked.

"Almost always, yes. Or I stay in a room that has a piano, if I can," he admitted. "I feel off if I don't have something to play for any length of time."

"They have pianos in hotel rooms?" I asked distracted, revealing how little I've traveled, and how I've never traveled "well."

"Some, yes," he laughed lightly and looked directly into my eyes. "Actually, there's one in the room where I'm staying."

"Would you let me come hear you play?" I asked eagerly. The words were out before I realized it. His eyes locked into mine made me blurt things without thinking.

Did he realize the power he held within him? His shocking green eyes alone were inhibition releasing.

"You want to go to my room to 'hear me play,' huh?" Edward laughed and my cheeks lit on fire when I realized just what I'd said and how it sounded like I was fishing for an invitation up to his hotel room.

Shit. Oh God, no! Well…yes actually...

What was I saying? No!

"That came out wrong!" I insisted. "I mean, I really would love to hear you play, but I wasn't trying to get you to—ugh. Forget I said anything. I'm such an idiot. God, I'm so embarrassed," I rambled and put my face in my hands.

"You are not an idiot," Edward insisted, sounding upset. Then pulled my hands away from my face, and covered mine with his, as they laid on the table, causing me to look back up at him, "and while I can't imagine why you'd want to, because it's not nearly as exciting as it apparently seems like it would be—trust me—but if that's what you want, I'll play for you."

He smiled sweetly as he intensely stared into my eyes, making my knees go weak. My heart lurched and began to gallop.

I bit my lip to hide how big my smile was and nodded eagerly.

Edward shook his head and breathed a laugh. "Alright. But remember, I warned you," he teased with a grin.

His cell phone rang shortly after. The car was there to pick us up. He informed the driver of the change in plans that we were to head back to his hotel, pulled out some cash from his wallet, placed it in the bill folder at the edge of the table and stood. I moved to follow, rising from my chair as Edward pulled out my chair for me. I blushed, realizing I couldn't remember the last time—if ever—I'd had my chair pulled out for me. It made me feel... special. I bit my lip to hide my grin as I tried to discreetly tug on the hem of my dress.

I turned to him to thank him as we headed into the main area of the restaurant, but his expression caught me off guard as he looked past me with an expression of anger. He muttered a curse under his breath, and I followed his gaze.

Paparazzi could be seen milling about the exit and peering in the windows.

"I'm so sorry Bella. The car is out front, we're going to have to go through them," he whispered to me, glancing contemptuously at the growing number of cameramen that had spotted him and were trying to take pictures through the glass. "Just don't say anything, keep your head down so you're not blinded by flashes and stay right next to me. The car is right in front of the doors, we'll go straight for the car. It'll be okay. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. I did trust him. I trusted him implicitly.

Edward glanced down at me and his look of annoyance and worry that was spurred from the paparazzi, vanished as he met my eyes. A smile spread across his face that made him look so striking that it caused me to let out my breath.

He placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me out of the establishment, pausing at the doors flashing me an apologetic and reassuring smile before walking out.

The number of paparazzi felt like they tripled as they swarmed in on us. They were everywhere and were loudly asking question on top of question, every one of them talking over the other. Many of the questions I could make out were asking who I was and if Anthony and I were together, but he didn't breathe a word to them and neither did I.

He'd been right, even looking down, the bright flashes were disorienting. Panic flooded through me. Edward seemed tense too, but he must have still been able to sense my panic because just as my body stiffened, he began to rub soothing circles into my back with his thumb, that instantly put me at ease.

The driver—a different one than Charlie, as he had probably taken Emmett and Rose wherever they were headed—was waiting for us and quickly opened the door to admit us into the car. Edward had me go in first and quickly slipped in right after me. I could hear the driver beg off the photographers as he quickly shut the door behind us. Edward locked it as soon as it was closed and turned to me.

"Are you alright?" he asked grabbing my hand and studying my face. His concern was severe and for some reason it completely turned me on.

I nodded dumbly, finding my voice was caught in my throat. I was so completely overwhelmed and felt the burning of unshed tears behind my eyes. My emotions were everywhere.

The car pulled away from the curb and began rolling along the city roads.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he narrowed his eyes looking harder at me as if making sure I really was okay. "It's pretty unnerving, especially at first."

"I'm fine," I lied pushing past my flood of emotion the commotion had caused.

But then it hit me, my whole body felt alive—electric and I was acutely aware that we were alone. Even the partition that separated us from the driver was up. It was just Edward and me.

I could feel the electricity between us begin to hum as we stared at one another, as if the realization had become tangible. The photographers were quickly forgotten and all that was left was Edward. I found the knowledge of being absolutely alone with him, combined with how protective he'd been and now the way he looked at me, was so thrilling and turned on so much I seriously wondered if one simple touch from him would put me over.

Edward reached up and grazed my cheekbone with his thumb as if reading my mind, challenging the theory. I felt a surge in want, and gasped in a breath, but reigned control over myself holding it together. He looked into my eyes for a moment longer in hesitation, wearing that warring expression I had already become familiar with. He moved closer, just not touching me, still staring into my eyes. This time it was as if making sure that it was okay with me, as if not knowing if I'd want him to kiss me again even after the way I'd kissed him the night before. I didn't know what I looked like, if the raging want for him was as evident as it felt, but whatever he saw there must have convinced him to proceed because he closed that last slip of distance and his lips were on mine, relieving me of my need for him that had become so severe I ached from it. My tongue grazed his lips, and he quickly opened them to me reaching his out to meet mine. As our tongues twisted and swept against the other, I found that his mouth tasted even better than his lips.

He let out a sound something akin to a growl and then his hand slid around my waist pulling me closer to him deepening our kiss, pressing our bodies against the other as best as the seat would allow. Too soon, he pulled back, just enough to break the kiss.

"Bella," he breathed my name like a caress.

Breathing heavily with need for him, I opened my eyes to the sound of my name and was greeted with his, burning with want and flaming with desire.

It was then the realization hit me—Edward was taking me to his hotel room. And for the first time in my life, I wanted, with every fiber of my being, everything that was typically insinuated with it.

Thanks, as always, MC for betaing!

Reviews are appreciated. Click the [Review] button before clicking to the next chapter and tell me what you think.