Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!

Hi guys! I can only apologise with how bloody long this chapter has taken to be published. I am not going to lie – I have been having some serious writer's block with this chapter. In one draft I did a massive time jump which really made no sense at all, then in another I wrote the whole thing in third person, before it hit me that it was supposed to be in FIRST PERSON! It has been an absolute nightmare.

But here it is, the next chapter! I am already writing the next, so hopefully that should be out in a week! I hope you all had an absolutely amazing Christmas, and wish you all a very safe and happy new year!

Thank you for all your reviews/follows/favourites, by the way, believe me when I say – each and every one is read with a huge smile. I love you all.

Enjoy xo

7.

BPOV

Once we had cleaned ourselves and the room up, Edward gently takes one of my hands into his, entwining our fingers together. He smiles down at me; but in his eyes, I can see inner conflict.

"What's wrong?"

He raises his free hand, tucking a long chocolate strand behind my ear. "I'm sorry for being a coward."

I shake my head in disagreement, holding his hand to my cheek, "Edward, I get it. Okay? I may not like you keeping things from me; but you are right. We have only been officially dating for a day – I should not ask so much of you."

Edward sighs with frustration, running a hand through his hair "Bella you aren't asking too much… that's the thing. As your boyfriend, I should tell you everything about me. But it's just so damn complicated."

"I can wait." I whisper, "baby steps. I am not going anywhere."

He bends down, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is all lips and no tongues; and although brief and soft, is beyond perfect. Much like every other kiss, we have shared.

"Yo! Ed?"

I tear myself away from Edward, looking at the closed door.

"Emmett" Edward mouths, before turning to the door. "What?" he yells, irritation ringing in his tone.

"Whoa, no need for the attitude Eddie. Am I interrupting your daily wanking session again? Because if so, dude, I told you to put a fucking sock on the door."

Between Emmett's loud words and the mortified look on Edward's face, I burst into laughter, giggles wracking my body hysterically.

"Wait! You have a girl in there? Is it Bella?" When he says my name, his voice adopts a high pitch manner and I can almost see this faceless man batting his eyelashes.

"Oh for the love of God."

Edward stalks over to the door, pulling it open viciously "Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?"

I look over my boyfriend's shoulder to see the famous Emmett for the very first time.

The guy is massive.

Edward is tall, but Emmett has at least three inches on him. His body is also very broad: his biceps bulging against his 'Eclipse' black tee. What is so intriguing about Emmett, however, is the fact that his face totally contradicts his body. His baby blue eyes, paired with cute dimples and cheeky grin makes him look almost boyish, completely different to the overly masculine quality of his body. His curly brown hair falls into his eyes as he takes me in.

He shoves Edward to the side, holding his hand out to me, beaming.

"My, my so this is the famous Isabella Swan. I must say Eddie; you are definitely punching above your weight here. Now Bella, how about you leave Channing Tatum over there, and marry me instead."

He wiggles his eyebrows, and winks jokingly.

I chuckle shaking my head, "so you must be the famous Emmett"

Emmett beams; his dimples made even more prominent "I like this one James Dean! She knows what she's talking about!"

Edward rolls his eyes, kissing my forehead "You got rid of him?"

Emmett's jovial expression instantly morphs into a serious one, "Yeah, and I told D not under any circumstances to let him back in."

He then turns back to me, smiling "you gave us quite the scare K-Stew."

"K-Stew?"

Edward groans, "Emmett has this stupid joke-"

"Hey! It's not stupid! It's genius! You see Angelina; I like to name Eddie after all these famous heartthrobs because of his pretty boy looks. And now you're his GF, that automatically makes you his leading lady!"

"But Kristen Stewart isn't even dating Robert Patt-"

"La-la-la! I can't hear you!" Emmett yells, plugging his ears, "R-Patz and K-Stew belong together. And Stella Maxwell is all mine!'

I giggle at his logic. He is crazy… but I can clearly see why Edward loves him so much.

Suddenly, his head shoots up, like a bloodhound catching the scent of a fox.

Emmett's eyes scan the room, and I can't help but shift nervously. I feel like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. While Emmett never caught us engaging in the actual act – I am suddenly aware of the smell of sex that lingers strongly in the air.

"You did good Eddie. But you forgot about the Box."

I look at Edward, puzzled "Box?"

Edward turns pale, shaking his head "Emmett…"

"Oh c'mon Eddie. Bella is probably going to be a regular round here. If you forgot the Box, then she should know!"

I am growing increasingly more confused by Emmett's mischievous smirk and Edward's embarrassed stance.

"Can someone please tell me what this Box is?"

Emmett laughs, walking to the desk. He bends down, yanking open a drawer and pulls out a cardboard box.

"Emmett, stop! You are going to embarrass her!" Edward says through gritted teeth.

Feeling curious, I round the desk and open the Box.

I wish I hadn't.

Air freshener, four boxes of L-XL condoms, disinfectant wipes and hand gel. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Fucking hell Emmett!" Edward shouts, picking the Box up and putting it away. "I thought you were fucking around when you mentioned it!"

Emmett cackles, to the point where tears are running down his face, "P-p-protection Eddie! This is my office to – I don't wanna sit in here when your nasty is all on my laptop."

I moan slapping my forehead.

Edward glares at Emmett, "See!"

Emmett turns apologetic, "sorry, B. I'm not making fun of you though, trust me. Honestly, I want to congratulate you! I can't remember the last time Eddie got lai-"

"And on that note, we are leaving!" Edward interrupts, pulling me away from his best friend.

"It was great meeting you Kate! Bring my girl back won't you, Will?" He shouts.

"You too Harry!"

His laughter echoes after us.

…

Edward tugs my hand, heading towards the back exit.

"I am so sorry love. Honestly, I'm going to kick his ass tomorrow."

I giggle, "don't do that… but maybe you should put him on clean up duty."

He awards me with a broad smile, "I like the way your mind works, Swan. Besides that though, I think that went rather well. What do you think?

"He seems great. I can't get over how… um – big he is."

He laughs again, "yeah, it really works to our advantage when we have the odd violent drunk. He can be really intimidating when he wants to be."

"I can't imagine him being scary. Just a giant teddy bear."

He holds the heavy fire-exit door open, gesturing me to go first. The cold autumn air hits me instantly, making my skin break out in goose bumps.

At my shiver, Edward pulls me into his chest, quickly bringing us to the trunk of a gleaming BMW. I gawk at the gorgeous car as he opens the trunk and pulls out a huge leather jacket.

"Here, wear this."

He holds up the jacket, so I can slip my arms through the sleeves. I almost sigh at the feeling of warmth that now encases my body, and inhale the scent that is purely Edward. He smells like fresh air; all pine trees and rain. I wish I could bottle it.

"How about we have that third date?"

I halt my actions, looking up at him. He is pulling out a thick black coat, his expression appearing hopeful.

"It's the early hours of the morning."

"Oh, right" he looks dejected "then I'll just take you h-"

"No! I'd love to… but where could we go?"

He smiles largely, leading me to the passenger seat – "My, my Isabella Swan. Haven't you learnt not to doubt me?"

…

"You have so much music." I observe, scrolling through his iPod.

Really, he has everything on there: Tchaikovsky. Debussy. Chopin. U2. The Beach Boys. Fleetwood Mac. Coldplay. Dire Straits. The Killers.

He shrugs, as I finally land on The Cure.

"I've always loved music, since I was a kid. My family supported it as a hobby, although I don't think they were too pleased when I learnt less… sophisticated instruments like the drums. When I decided to take it up in College however… well, lets just say that there were one or two explosions."

I gaze at him, half elated that he is sharing this piece of his past, and half irritated. Not at him, but at his family. While Renée hasn't been the most maternal, she has always encouraged me to see that the sky is the limit. She would be content if I had decided to spend the rest of my life on the street, playing the bongos for spare change, as long as I am happy.

"I wish I could hear you play."

He briefly takes his eyes of the road to smile at me, "I would love to play for you."

Entwining our fingers together, we revel in the promise; and listen to the music in peace.

…

"We're here."

My eyes scan the street. It is still rather busy; girls in tight dresses and heels wobble, avoiding cracks in the sidewalk and men lean against the entrances of bars, smoking cigarettes.

Edward opens the door for me, helping me out. Under his left arm, he has a large box.

"Please say that isn't The Box?"

"I can't believe Emmett went there," Edward huffs "no, this is a surprise."

"Where are we?"

He points to a large red brick building with large, panelled windows. Other than that, I can't distinguish anything as the lights are out. It appears closed.

Edward pulls out of his coat a long chain, with a bunch of keys on it.

I raise a questioning eyebrow teasingly, "don't tell me you own another business…"

"Ha ha. No, this is a photography studio. It belongs to my friend from college – Garrett's girlfriend Kate. I was planning to bring you here tomorrow, but… well, the opportunity presented itself."

He gently tugs me into a spacious reception, flicking on the lights as we walk. It is all white, with dark wooden plank floors and spotlight lightening; creating a sleek and modern effect.

We pause in front of a set of double doors.

"Okay, stay here; I just need to set up."

I nod, refraining from peeking around him as he slips through the doors.

I gaze around the corridor, which has a few black and white prints dotted on the walls. They range from absolutely stunning landscapes, that are to such a high quality, that I feel like I could almost jump through – they are like windows.

Other photos are of a handsome man with longish dark hair, beard and equally dark eyes. It seems that he is also a musician. There are some shots of him bending over a guitar, his fingers reverently holding the instrument; his eyes closed with a small smile curling his lips. He looks like he is in his own world. Then there is one, were he is topless, whisking some sort of mixture in a bowl with his head thrown back in laughter.

The photos were so candid and intimate, that I can feel the warmth settle in my stomach as I stare at each photo. The love this photographer – Kate – holds for her subject – who I assume is Garrett – is undeniable.

After several minutes, Edward finally pops his head around the door.

"Okay, ready" He states, coyly.

I step inside, inquisitively. Flickering light, grabbing my attention. When I am fully inside the room, a loud whoosh of air escapes my chest.

The room is huge, and the western wall is glass. Similar to the corridor, there are prints dotting the walls.

However, the photographs are not what I am stunned by.

In the corner of the room, a projector is set: casting images of the starry sky against the white walls. The Milky Way entrancingly moves over the walls; beautiful colours of purple, blue and white.

In the centre of the room lies a double comforter and pillows, amongst a dozen tea-candles.

"Edward," I breathe, walking to the comforter.

I kneel down, pulling off my heels, and gaze around in awe. On the ceiling, there are the planets. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Neptune. It is like a whole other world.

My head whips to Edward, who is leaning against the wall, hands deep inside his pockets. I blush when I see the look on his face. He stares at me with such adoration, that I can genuinely feel my palms clam up.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

He walks over, sitting next to me.

We stay silent for a moment, before lying down side by side.

I can feel his left side flush against mine, and the hairs of his arms on my skin; the heat practically radiates from him.

"How did you do this?" I ask, my eyes tracing the planets.

"I called Kate – who is dying to meet you by the way –and asked her if we could use this room. Apparently, when she was young, she wanted to be an astronaut," he chuckled "as she got older of course her aspirations changed to photography, but she held a special place in her heart for astronomy. This room is dedicated to space. They usually use it for kids on school trips but… I find it kind of, I don't know – magical?"

I nod in understanding.

"Anyway, I stowed the comforter here earlier, then there was just the matter of the candles a–"

His speech escapes him as I press an urgent kiss to his lips.

I place a hand on either side of his neck, bringing him up so I could kiss him thoroughly. He never ceases to amaze me. The concert, the fort, this. Everything he does, he puts his heart and soul into. Nobody has ever gone through such an effort for me; and I have to show my appreciation for it.

He moans against my kisses, and opens his mouth, his tongue snaking out to meet mine in that wonderful rhythm.

I pull away from him, which he groans at but then proceed to peck at his face. His cheekbones, forehead, eyelids, chin – sweetly but sensually.

I kiss every part of him but avoid his lips, licking my way down his neck and sucking at his strong Adam's apple.

I can feel his vibrations against my lips, as he turns so that he is on top of me. He watches me for a second, stroking my face with his thumbs.

"Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?" he asks fiercely.

For what feels like the millionth time, my cheeks heat up.

"Yes," I whisper "always."

He kisses down my neck to the v of my cleavage.

I lift my upper body up, so that he can zip down my dress. Unlike earlier this evening, he is slow in his movements; admiring my underwear clad body.

I smile, tugging at his t-shirt, bringing it over his head.

He pulls it off, while I unbuckle his belt, pushing his pants down with my feet.

Soon, the only things that separate us are the thin cotton of his boxers and the lace of my bra and ruined panties.

I breathe heavily as he licks and bites softly at my stomach. My hands thread through his bronze hair; pushing him down to the place where I need him most.

He hooks his fingers into my panties, yanking them off.

Then he touches me.

"Jesus Christ Bella, you are so wet."

I moan loudly as he traces my clit with two of his fingers, before curling them inside me.

"Edward…" I pant.

"Scream for me baby, we're the only ones here."

Then he presses his mouth to my clit, pounding in his two fingers, meeting my g-spot.

I scream unashamed; between the soft sucks, and long licks using the flat of tongue, on top of his spectacular fingers – well I really don't stand a chance.

"Harder. Faster." I manage to choke out.

He groans at my words; making me shiver.

He buries his fingers impossibly deeper; I don't even need the projection on the wall; Edward makes me see stars.

A fine sheen of sweat covers my body, as I scream in ecstasy. It is easily the greatest orgasm of my life.

As I come down from my high, Edward lays kisses over my thighs, massaging down my legs delicately.

"You are incredible."

I leave out a breathy laugh; my legs feel like jelly. Unable to move, I murmur; "Come here."

He snickers at my inability to… well… to do anything, and moves up so he can kiss me.

Edward tucks my sweaty hair behind my ears "you make me so happy".

I open my eyes; he looks completely sincere, and my heart races.

"You make me so happy too."

He kisses me passionately, and I can feel his cock pressing against me, weeping.

With effort, I twist us and move down his body.

"Bella, sweetheart, you're tired," he half-heartedly complains.

I swipe my thumb over the tip of his dick, licking my other hand and move both over him in slow motions, massaging him, much like he did with my legs.

"B-Bella" Edward sighs, balling the comforter with his hands.

Seeing the pre-cum, I bend low and for the second time tonight – I take him into my mouth.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck," Edward yells.

I scrape my teeth lightly against his skin and suckle at his cock, loving the feeling of him.

"Baby, baby, baby I am not going to last long… Jesus."

I suck with all my might, moving down so he is hitting the back of my throat.

"I'm coming angel!" Edward shouts, tugging my hair.

I swallow as he comes in glorious waves; his eyes closed, and back arched. If he thought I was beautiful, he has clearly never looked in a mirror.

I collapse next to him, snuggling into the side of his body. He embraces me, bringing me closer so that every line of our body is meeting.

"I don't even think I want to know why you are so good at that," Edward says after a moment; still sounding a little dazed.

I rub my head against his chest; I adore how his skin feels against mine. "Alice makes me read A LOT of Cosmo."

He cracks an eye open, "really?"

"Uh huh," I reply absentmindedly. I draw hearts against his skin – feeling thirteen all over again.

"No more need for that."

"Oh?"

"Nope – you know the saying. 'Practice makes perfect."

I laugh hysterically and slap his chest, "you are such a perv!"

He grins, "your perv."

"My perv," I copy.

He then leans over me and shows me how much of a perv he really is…

…

2 WEEKS LATER

I flick through the book, loving the smell of the pages. Where is it… where is it… Ah ha!

Finally reaching my favourite chapter, I sit down comfortably behind the large oak desk. The page has been dog-eared so many times, that the corner of the page is worn and old.

One of the many reasons why I adore working in this bookstore is the serenity and quiet it offers. It is almost therapeutic. In New York, bookshops such as this are a rarity. The high street is largely an outlet of luxury retail – Gucci and Tiffany, Prada and Chanel.

If the odd person did happen to want a book, they end up going to a large chain of bookstores like Barnes and Noble. But, nobody can deny the charm and character that exudes from 'Twilight'.

Sat in Brooklyn, the store is owned by a sweet couple: Mr and Mrs Cope, and according to them, 'Twilight' had been in the family for over two decades. As a result, 'Twilight' has earned a honourable reputation amongst the most loyal of customers.

I was beyond happy when a job space opened here last year. I was sitting in my favourite spot- on a large velvet armchair, which is settled in the corner of the room, behind the sci-fi section. Mrs Cope, recognising me from previous encounters approached me with a job offer – and of course, I couldn't refuse. It paid well, and I got to do my favourite thing… read.

With me being a literature student, Alice can't get her head around why I would want to spend more time with books. But the answer is easy. Books are my happy place. As cliché as it sounds, I love how they can transport me into a completely different reality, to a world in which I could immerse myself in the character's perspective. Especially having such an unstable childhood, what with my parents' divorce, Renée's spontaneous schemes, and then my big move to Forks at seventeen. Books have been my one and only constant. An escape.

I am surprised when the bell rings, an hour later. Rush time ended nearly two or three hours ago, and I am leaving sometime soon. I look over the door, and my bewilderment deepens.

Typically, my customers consist of mothers led reluctantly by their curious children or elderly men and women. The tall, handsome man who steps over the threshold definitely does not fit those criteria.

He has an angular jaw line, and long blonde hair, which is in a man bun so that he appears almost surfer-like. As his ice blue eyes meet mine, a charming grin teases his lips.

I quickly divert my eyes, returning to the magical words on the page. It is beyond me how some people can have such an incredible imagination. There has been many times, where I have just sat at my desk, and stared at a blank Word document, willing for my mind to conjure something. Yet, I always come up empty handed.

Perhaps that's why, (despite a larger part of me wanting to be a journalist) the prospect of becoming an editor is still so appealing – while I am not the best creative writer in the world, I love to read the work of others.

I spend the next five minutes engrossed. It is almost like diving back into my past; reminiscing the first time, I ever read the book.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

My head shoots up, surprised to find my one and only customer now in front of me.

"Oh, sorry."

I take the book off him, glancing at the cover– American Psycho. Ugh.

I hold back my distaste, putting a polite smile on. No one can deny that Bret Easton Ellis is a talented author, but (personally) I find the book massively overrated – mind you, I have always been a romance/ fantasy kind of girl.

"That will be seven dollars, please."

He slides over the cash, swapping it for the book and receipt.

"Harry Potter?"

I peek back up at him. While he is certainly attractive, I can't help but wish Edward was the one that standing in front of me. I inwardly smile, remembering the adoring kiss he had pressed to my lips when he had left my bed that morning; whispering beautiful promises about seeing me later.

The guy coughs, bringing me out of my daydreams.

"Oh… um – yeah. Sorry… again, kind of got distracted." I blush. God, this day has been entirely too long.

He gives me another grin, and I itch to roll my eyes. He probably thinks I am nervous; too stunned by his appearance. Hah.

"You're reading Harry Potter? Isn't that a kids book?"

His cocky smile and comment makes me flush with anger, I cross arms over the book, bringing it to my chest protectively. No one will insult Potter in front of me.

"First – it's the Deathly Hallows. Which I think qualifies as more as young adult fiction, than it does child's fiction. And second – Harry Potter is the most successful series in the world today."

The asshole leans against the desk lazily, "actually I'll think you find that 50 Shades of Grey is the most successful book in the world today… which is much more my type."

I scrunch my nose in disgust. What a sleezeball! I have heard a lot bad chat up lines, but this is definitely the creepiest… and the weirdest. How does that constitute as attractive? As I open, my mouth to retort (or more likely, curse him out) the bell rings again.

Thankful for the interruption, my heart leaps when I see Edward, standing in the doorway with a brown bag in his hand. His eyes travel between the stranger and I, but upon seeing the disgruntled look on my face, his gorgeous features harden.

He looks coldly at the blonde man, before walking straight to me. Circling the desk, he presses a passionate kiss to my lips.

I squeak at Edward's blatant actions, yet I can't help but fist his light grey shirt between my hands in an attempt to bring him closer. It is as if everything disappears. All I can taste is his sweet lips caressing mine as his warm calloused hands trace shapes on the skin of my lower back.

I almost laugh when I feel a satisfied smile curl Edward's mouth. He nudges my nose with his, in an adorable gesture.

"Hi baby"

"Hey."

Edward snakes an arm possessively around my waist, facing the man. I look from Edward's stony expression to Mr Douche-Face. Rather than looking sheepish, scared or intimidated; he looks simply amused by the situation. Nevertheless, for a brief moment, I can almost see the challenge flash in his icy eyes.

"Who's this, love?" Edward asks in a low voice.

"Uh-"

"A paying customer." The guy interjects, dropping the receipt on the table.

The asshole returns his gaze to me. I squirm under his hungry look, pressing myself to my boyfriend. I totally take back my previous analysis of him. The guy is definitely not attractive… in any form.

"It was wonderful to meet you Bella."

I don't bother replying. As I feel Edward's hand tighten on my hip, I place a firm hand on his chest as a way to assure him.

I give the man a strained smile, "Thank you for shopping with us today."

He saunters out of the store leaving Edward and I behind, the atmosphere bordering tense.

"I didn't like him." Edward states, frostily.

I rub his chest, comfortingly "Me neither. But don't worry, I doubt he'll come again anytime soon… that was quite a show back there."

His lips upturn into a sheepish smile; "I just didn't like the way he was looking at you. It took everything in me, not to fucking strangle him. You're mine."

I laugh at him, reaching on my tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Yeah well, I think you got that across."

He doesn't smile, "Oh, I don't think so."

I furrow my eyebrows confused.

Edward reaches behind me picking up the receipt that the customer had left behind.

There written across the page, is a number.

Call me, when you get sick of pretty boy,

-James