Disclaimer: The author does not own any of the publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2 (Because we always want to know what is going through his head, right?)

EPOV

March 2012

It's just another stop on the never-ending tour we seem to be stuck on. Just another gig. Then why am I feeling so antsy tonight? I sigh and check my guitar one last time. One of the strings broke during rehearsal the other day and I don't want it to happen in concert. As I finger the strings I find myself picking out the chords to a song that's been hovering in the back of my mind for the last couple of days. It's almost there, but not quite. "On the dark side of the sun where all my dreams have burned to dust, I'm a prisoner of the black sky, watching everything I had and lost"

Jasper walks by the doorway and holds out a beer in offering. "Are you okay man? Want a beer? We're on in thirty minutes."

I nod and take it, swilling the cool, bitter liquid around my mouth before swallowing. I probably shouldn't drink any more before the show, but I've cut down to just beer, which helps me keep a clear head when I play and still not be too tense. So much is at stake now and I don't want to fuck it up.

Booze is for unwinding later, and maybe I'll find a warm body to keep me company tonight – I hope I'll meet someone nice. Not too young and not too skanky. Tanya's been on my case lately, threatening to castrate me if I don't pull myself together and stop acting like a pathetic rock star before I even become one. And she's right. I definitely don't want to be the creep who wakes up one day after sex with someone who's underage or high on drugs. I feel a sudden twinge of revulsion at my own thoughts.

To be honest though, it's a guilty relief to drown in a pair of pretty eyes once in a while and listen to some girl who tells me how awesome I am, before dragging me off to suck my cock in private. The sex is incidental; it's the ego boost I'm craving. Now when, for the first time, it seems I'm close to being a success I feel a looming sense of doom. Something's going to happen that will snatch it away from me. From us. It's not just me, I remind myself, but it's the rest of the band, too. Fuck.

I draw a deep, shuddering breath, set the guitar down and pace up and down the sticky floor of the dingy club dressing room, shaking out my cold hands.

We started sending demos out almost as soon as we started playing together, three years ago. When finally a music label we respected told us they wanted to put out a trial EP with five of our songs, we were elated. Even better, they wanted the option to sign us for a contract for up to three records. The fact that we had to agree to tour pretty much constantly to promote our music didn't seem like a real problem since we've been working our asses off for more than a year trying to get ourselves booked all over the East Coast, juggling part-time jobs to make ends meet. Now someone has offered to help us do the same thing nationwide.

At the moment we've been playing the college circuit for three months, and we will keep it up until May. The EP came out four weeks ago and has been moving up the charts ever since, slowly but surely, getting more and more radio attention and downloads. I'm pretty sure that we'll hit the top of Billboard soon, and that we'll land ourselves that record contract. If we don't, it will be my responsibility. I'm the song writer, the lead singer, the front man. No pressure.

I stop my pacing, empty the beer and put the bottle down carefully inside the wastepaper basket by the door. When Tanya calls my name from the next room, I grip my guitar without further hesitation. Let's get this party started.

It's a medium-sized venue close to Chicago University, not the biggest place we've played but not the smallest either. The club is holding around four hundred people tonight, which makes the floor in front of the stage pretty packed. I can feel the touch of craziness and excitement crackling in the air, smell the alcohol and perfume and sweat, the dry, dusty heat of the spotlights. The music swells around me, and I'm safely anchored in the moment with my hands on my guitar. "Under your thumb, when did I move in under your thumb? How did you shrink my heart, lick up my courage, kill my soul, under your thumb?"

Music has always been my refuge. The first time I got my hands on a guitar when I was ten years old, I was hooked. Back then I was just a cute but scrawny kid with a smart attitude that always got me in trouble. Thanks to the fact that my dad sent me to martial arts classes as soon as I started school - in the hope that I would learn discipline - I always won my fights, even against older kids. But that didn't help me with the teachers. School bored and frustrated me, and I let it show. Music became the head space that was mine alone, and I could spend hours picking out chords to my favorite songs or looking at videos on the computer, trying to copy what I saw.

I look over at Jasper, my wingman who I can always count on to make my songs better, wilder, deeper, more raw. He smiles at me, and I feel guilty because I know that he's been worried over my increased moodiness. Older than me, Jasper finished college the same year I met him and Tanya and we started playing together, but he's been holding off on starting a serious career just to keep his schedule open for the growing demands of the band.

I, on the other hand, am 23 years old, a college drop-out, a financial disaster and a semi-alcoholic, and so far I haven't completed anything in my life that could make anyone feel proud of me. I hope my friends in the band won't look back on this time one day as years wasted with a bum who dreamt that he could change the world with music.

Now, I let go of all rational thoughts and allow myself to become Edward Cullen, the moody rock star. I channel all of my feelings into the music and let it speak for me to the moving mass of bodies below the stage. Somewhere inside all of them, they know my frustration, my pain, my longing for something better, something more. They dance because, like me, they want to lose themselves and find themselves, to forget who they really are through the music.

It's a good night and I'm on a roll. Then it happens during the second set. A circling spotlight happens to hit some girls dancing in front of the stage, over on my left. I wouldn't have noticed unless I'd been looking over there just as the white light hovered for a second and outlined a girl's face – dark hair, dark eyes, mouth half-open. Bella.

I feel suspended in time and weightless for a moment. My heartbeat stutters and I'm out of breath. I think I've forgotten how to breathe. Then the light moves again and the girl becomes just a dark silhouette in the crowd as other faces jump out at me. I look away, sucking air into my deflated lungs, surprised to find I'm launching into the second verse without missing a beat. All through the rest of the song I'm travelling on autopilot and trying to get my head back in the game.

It's not like this sort of thing has never happened before. All through my first year in New York I kept seeing her: a petite girl with long brown hair, a delicate face and a hesitant gait. Every time I caught sight of her my heart stopped, until I could tell for sure that it wasn't the real Bella, just some random stranger who reminded me of her. Rationally, I knew she was in school back in Washington state, but my mind still kept conjuring her up for me. I missed her.

The thing with Bella and me is that although we never spoke more than a few words to each other all through high school I always knew in my bones where she was and I always missed her when she wasn't around. We didn't move in the same circles. Bella never smoked pot under the bleachers and never skipped class to shoot pool, nor did she show up at the beach parties where people got high, drank cheap beer and had casual sex in the sand. Bella was a good girl, and Charlie Swan's daughter.

I did all those things and more. I let Lauren blow me in the janitor's closet at school. I sold pot for a while to get extra money for a better guitar. I even got busted by Charlie Swan once for driving under the influence and spent a night in jail. I'll never forget the disgusted look on his face when he booked me.

"Edward Cullen. This is just the tip of the iceberg, right? How many times have you driven your car wasted or high like this? Do you realize you're jeopardizing not only your own life but those of others, kid? If I had my way I'd send you down to juvenile detention right now. You've got a good family and they don't deserve your shit. Clean up your act or I'm personally going to make sure you go away."

He was right, of course. My family was wealthy and upstanding, pillars of the community, and didn't deserve my shit. And I couldn't blame anyone but myself. If I hid away a secret crush on the prettiest girl in Forks for two years it wasn't just because I was scared of her cop father: it was because, just like him, I wanted to protect Bella from the likes of me. Even if I could have made that smart and levelheaded girl fall for me, which I didn't believe in my wildest dreams, I would only have hurt her reputation and made things worse for her. She was beauty, grace, kindness and perfection. She sure as hell didn't need my shit.

So, right now I tell myself I should get my eyes examined, maybe get some black-rimmed Buddy Holly glasses and stop seeing things that aren't there. Then I pour my bewildered feelings and nostalgia into my voice and let it all hang out in the songs, where it belongs. When we close the set, I'm already starting to feel like normal again.

"You were on fire tonight, Eddie-Veddie boy!"

Emmett claps me on the back so hard that I stumble and almost fall as we walk off the stage to chug something down quickly before we start packing up our equipment. Ow! That guy really doesn't know his own strength.

"Thanks, Emmett! You're not so bad yourself, but save the beating for the drums, will you?" I pop open another beer, not so cold anymore, but still delicious on my tongue. Just one, then I'll still be fine for driving. I really want to get drunk tonight, but I know we have an early start tomorrow, so I'll have to pace myself.

Tanya comes back after freshening up in the bathroom, shaking out her mane of copper-colored hair with her fingers, as beautiful as ever. She smirks at me.

"I think you'll have a bunch of college girls to pick from tonight, pretty boy. Just make sure you're back at the motel at seven am sharp. We don't want to have to root you out from some sorority floor tomorrow morning."

I make a face at her. Just once, months ago, I ended up with two girls back in their room on campus, drunk out of my mind. I have no idea what my performance ended up being like, but doing the walk of shame in the morning - parading down a hallway filled with staring girls while nursing a thundering hangover - was not something that I plan on doing ever again. I'm done with both college and college girls.

We have some guys from the club helping us out, so assembling the instruments, amplifiers and our personal sound equipment doesn't take much more than 30 minutes. I'm disentangling some cables and rolling them up neatly, since I'm something of a perfectionist when it comes to keeping my stuff in order, when Emmett attacks me again in a bear hug from behind.

"Bel-la Swan, buddy! Does it ring a bell? You have an old girlfriend from Forks waiting outside tonight, Edward. She asked me if she could see you and I told her maybe she could come to the party. And if you don't want to tap that, I will, because she's seriously hot! She's got a little cute friend, too, so maybe we could double-date?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Emmett? Are you high?" I push him off me, heart pounding again.

"Calm down, buddy, I just met some girl who said she went to school with you back home. She and her friend are waiting to meet you outside. Are you cool with that? They look like a couple of nice girls." Emmett looks hurt, and I clench my hands around the cables. Is it possible? She's really here?

"No problem, man. I did go to school with a Bella Swan, and she was pretty nice, so if she's here let's bring her along with us. And bring her friend if she wants to come, too. Come on, could you carry this box outside to the car, please?"

I get my hands busy, while my head is spinning. Is it really my Bella, the real Bella Swan, who is here tonight? I know my Mom told me she got a scholarship to go to college in Chicago, but I never dreamed that I would see her here. But if she is here, I sure want to see her. I've just got to get my head screwed on straight first. I hang back, hesitating until the very last moment and I'm rewarded with a glimpse of her dark head in the back of the bus before I climb in the driver's seat. My mouth feels dry as I clutch the ignition.

I focus on taking directions and getting us to the party in one piece. I'm grateful now that I only had a couple of beers tonight. I need to be on my best game if I'm going to impress Bella. Still, my hands are trembling when I get out of the bus, and I quickly pull out my cigarettes to calm my nerves.

When she climbs out of the back, the last of the bunch, and straightens up, I can see her eyes widen as she stares up at me. She's everything I remembered, and more. Huge, dark eyes, delicate features, plump lips, and – please kill me now – she still has that quirk of biting her lower lip which used to make me long to lean in and kiss her on the mouth, hard. I smirk, to cover my confusion.

"Hi, Edward! I'm Bella Swan from Forks. I don't know if you remember me at all, I…"

Ridiculous. How could I not remember? Well, but then of course she never knew how hard I struggled not to stare at her across the cafeteria on bad days. I take a deep breath and plunge in.

"Of course I remember you, Bella. How could I forget? Forks high school had, what, four hundred students? And you held pretty much every student office function that school had on offer, didn't you? Congratulations by the way; I heard you made valedictorian, too."

That visibly throws her. What? Did she think she wasn't noticeable? Did she think I was blind, or stoned right out of my mind all the time?

"I … I, how did you even know that? That was after you left Forks!"

I can feel my smirk softening. She is so innocent and so adorably self-deprecating.

"My mom keeps track of everyone and lets me know the latest gossip every time I call her. I guess she must have too much time on her hands." And now she's blushing. Could she look prettier? I squint against the cigarette smoke to try to blur her image, take the edge off my acute attraction.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure she's very proud of you compared to most of us. Didn't you go to college on the East Coast?" I feel my heart start to sink and have to look away for a minute. She doesn't know, then. Well, why would she, we never actually talked before? I try to act like it's no big deal.

"Yeah, but I dropped out after a couple of years to give more time to my music. It wasn't really working out and my heart wasn't in it. New York meant a lot of opportunities to play though, so it wasn't a total loss." It's the truth, too. I've never regretted dropping out of college, but it's not something I'm exactly proud of either. Especially since I'm sure it enforces my "too-stupid-to-be-worthy-of-notice" image.

I notice that she's shivering, rubbing at the outside of her arms. Damn, she looks good in that short dress which emphasizes her mile-long legs, but she's seriously underdressed. I stub out my cigarette and nod towards the house, concerned.

"Do you want to go inside and grab a drink, Bella? You look like you're freezing."

She nods gratefully, and when I steer her up the steps to the front door, my hand feels strangely at home hovering over the delicate sweep of her back. I clench it into a fist to stop myself from possessively grabbing her narrow waist.

The house is swimming with people, and before I can stop it, Bella slips away and I'm caught up in conversation with a club owner who wants to book us for another two nights later this spring. I can see that we need to hire a professional manager if things are going to keep escalating like this.

Someone offers me a beer and I'm circulated from group to group, signing a couple of autographs, taking photographs with pretty girls, trying to talk business with serious-looking people, distracted by the music and the lights and the knowledge that Bella is somewhere in the vibrating house. Is she safe? Is she with someone? Is she with someone? I forgot to ask if she's got a boyfriend. Not that I could ask, because that would seem weird. Where is she? My eyes dart around anxiously as I start moving from room to room.

I see Jasper hanging around with the little elf who seems to be Bella's friend, although we were only introduced in passing as she exited the bus. Maybe she can tell me where Bella is?

And then I see her, standing by herself with a drink in her hand, safe. I exhale. Bella. I move up behind her and my nostrils widen as I pick up her delicious scent, flowery and sweet like she is. Her warmth radiates from her body and I wish I could just pull her into my arms. Maybe I could use the pretext of a dance to get the chance to touch her? I lean in and speak just by the delicate shell of her ear.

"Do you dance?"

She jumps slightly and looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes so big in that pale, lovely face. I can't help staring at her lips, waiting to see if she will bite her lip again, wanting it and dreading it at the same time. If I could just lean in and ... Her voice jerks me out of my lust-driven haze.

"No, not really. I mean, it's not a good idea for the uncoordinated to challenge gravity, or what do you think?"

I almost laugh out loud. Yes, now I remember how my dad used to tell me Bella Swan was the most accident-prone young girl he'd ever had the dubious pleasure of welcoming into the emergency room. There's a reason I have developed this instinct to try to keep Bella safe, after all.

"Okay, point taken. You love music but you just don't want to move to it. So, how did you enjoy the concert?" Damn, there's that blush again. I wonder if she blushes all over… Shut up, dick! Bella looks embarrassed, and she doesn't even know what my dirty mind was thinking. Hopefully. I kick myself mentally.

"Oh, sorry, I totally forgot," she says. "It was a beautiful concert, really good. I can see why you guys are climbing the charts. Have you made any plans for the future now that you're on your way to national stardom?"

I flinch at her words "national stardom". Right. We aren't there yet, and I'm not one hundred percent sure we'll ever get there, even now. Talking about it still feels like jinxing it, although I know that's an immature emotion. I feel how stiff my jaw-muscles are as I reply.

"I know what I want, if that's what you're asking, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen. Very few bands make it after their first hit single, and it's not easy to make a living in the music industry. You need major back-up and advertising, which we don't have so far. We've been on the road pretty much non-stop for the past year."

Suddenly, I feel an acute need to get away from all these people, to go somewhere I can have a real conversation with Bella, find out more about her life and get the chance to forge a connection with her, the person she is now. I turn her around and gently start moving her away from the crowd in the big room towards the backyard where it seemed to be quieter.

"But you believe in your own potential, don't you?" She sounds surprised, and I can't help laughing, although it's a bitter feeling. Yes, because believing in myself is what I do best.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't expect the world to come running after me. Lots of people listen to crap, after all." I don't want to seem like an asshole, but I'm so tired of people suggesting that I lighten up and write happier, peppy pop songs. Like I care. Like I could.

Then I feel Bella jerking as she suddenly loses her footing. I grab her arm, harder maybe than I should, and pull her closer to me to break her fall. The effect of her warmth and her scent so close up is heady. I catch my breath, more affected than I want her to know.

"Oh, sorry," she whispers, sounding breathless. Did I scare her?

I chuckle to show that I'm not, in fact, a dangerous predator, and gently circle her waist with my arm as I help her find her feet and then lead her out on to the patio. I look up. It's a clear night. If the city wasn't so close the stars would be visible in the black sky above us. A whiff of chlorine and a wave of chillier air hit my face and I can breathe again. I look around for somewhere to sit down and select a lounge chair where there's room for us both. I want to be near her.

Now that I've got her alone I focus all my attention on her face. She is so damn lovely, from her brown curls to her delicate fingertips and her battered black Chucks. I suppose it's creepy, but I can't stop staring.

"You're graduating soon, aren't you Bella? What about your plans for the future? Where are you going from here?" She shrugs, but replies readily enough.

"I'm applying for jobs all over the country, actually. I'm majoring in communication and media and I want to be a copywriter or work in publishing. Does that sound stupid? Everyone says that they want to work in media these days. I hope you don't think I'm stupid." She sounds nervous, talking faster and faster and suddenly she abruptly goes quiet, staring down at the ground, mumbling "I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry."

I have no idea what's going on with her right now, but I'm surprised and charmed by how self-conscious she seems. How can she not know how much I admire her drive and intelligence, and how she's never looked down her nose at anyone even though she's so far above most of us? I fumble in my pocket for my pack of cigarettes to cover the surge of emotion that makes me want to hug her.

"I definitely don't think of you as stupid, Bella." I'm sure she doesn't smoke- she's too smart -but I offer her one anyway just to be polite. She shakes her head, looking serious but not disapproving.

I try to be honest with her, though, since I'm sure she doesn't appreciate people bullshitting her.

"But I think you may have a hard time finding the kind of job you'd like. Did you ever think of becoming a writer?"

She used to write the most amazing pieces for the school paper and the yearbook. I know she won a state-wide writing competition, too. If it was something I regretted more than not kissing her it was how I never got the chance to show her my songs and ask how I could make them better. I always figured she would become a famous writer someday, which is why it upsets me to see her shrug my words off next, as it they're a joke.

"Yeah, right, because that's so much easier." She sounds unhappy, kicking her feet and frowning.

"No, I love writing, but I can't fool myself I'll make a living getting novels published and I don't want to teach. And since journalism seems to be outdated, that leaves creative writing for commercial purposes."

I raise my eyebrows at her glum attitude and gently poke her with my elbow to jolt her out of her funk.

"Sounds like you're the one who doesn't believe in your own potential."

She huffs, unaffected. "Yeah, whatever. Your songs don't sound very happy, Edward. Is that why you don't think you'll make it commercially? Why not write more of that stuff they're dancing to in there?"

She's waving her hand in the air, and I jerk my head back a few inches to stop her from hitting my nose. I look at her, amused. Is she tipsy?

I lose the cigarette and take her hand. It's small and cold and fits so well inside mine. I can't really look at her while I'm touching her like this, though, so I concentrate on her hand, stroking her soft, cool skin as I try to form a response to her question. It may have sounded flippant, but unlike most people who call me depressed and moody, she's someone I want to share my thoughts with. I struggle to make what I want to say come out right.

"I don't think you're most creative when you're content, Bella. All creation springs from the longing for something, from a need, wanting something you can't have. If I was happy, music wouldn't mean so much to me." It's true. I'm only really happy when I'm on stage, sharing and feeling the love and pain of the crowd, being a part of something bigger than myself. She must know that connection and creative spark, too.

I raise my eyes and stare at her face. She has gone very still and her eyes are locked on mine. The air feels electric and suddenly all I can think about is kissing her.

"You're not … happy?" Her voice is reedy and I think her pupils must be dilated because her eyes look positively black in the reflecting lights from the pool. She licks her lips and it's like an electric shock goes through me, from my crotch to my scalp. I know I can't resist her any longer.

"But not unhappy," I whisper, and then I pull her in and kiss her.

I've dreamed about Bella many times, waking and sleeping. Sweet dreams and dirty dreams; everything from holding her hand to tying her to my bedposts. But the reality of kissing her is so much more than any dream. My hands are finally on her body, which feels solid and warm. Her lips, petal soft but yet fleshy, make me want to suck and bite down on them. Her fragrance is all around me - and then her arms come up around my neck, her fingers tug on my hair and there's my instant erection in response. A surge of lust makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. I pull her up onto my lap, barely able to restrain myself from grinding her down on my cock. My one hand is clutching her to me and the other is splayed across her thigh, only a thin layer of pantyhose between me and her bare skin. Closer. I devour her mouth. I need closer, more of her, less clothes …

Right at that moment, a group of people decide to spill out onto the patio behind us. I barely have time to get pissed at someone breaking in on this private, perfect moment before Bella jerks away from my lap, frightened. I try to grab for her, to steady her, when I see her swaying on her feet in front of me, frantically tugging on her clothes. Did I try to undress her? Shit! But before I can do anything her arms are waving in the air, and she's tripping backwards the few feet to the pool, going over in a splash of blue water. Fuck!

I almost leap in after her, but someone tugs on my arm to stop me, and just as I shrug them off I see her head bobbing up towards the surface right by the poolside. I kneel, and haul her out of the water onto the concrete floor as if she weighs nothing at all, I'm that high on adrenaline. She's coughing and completely drenched but otherwise seems to be okay. I breathe a sigh of relief and gently pull the wet hair away from her face, then look around for something to wrap her in and ask someone to get me towels from the pool house.

Then a tiny hurricane sweeps in – Bella's friend, Alice, small but intense like a peppermint shot, shrieks in my ears as I clumsily try to reach for the stack of towels that someone just dumped on the stone patio beside us while I'm reassuring them both.

"She fell into the pool. It was an accident. But she needs to get inside and dry off. It's too chilly out here." Bella seems dazed and shivery but basically all right, and I hurry up to wrap her in a couple of towels before I grab her and carry her inside, Alice yapping around my heels like a small, anxious dog. People stare at us, and I hug Bella closer to my chest to protect her from their eyes.

"I think I should take her home," I tell Alice. I bend my head to speak to the dripping girl, huddled in my arms.

"Bella, is it okay if I make sure you get home all right?" She seems to relax to the sound of my voice.

"Yes, please, I'd like to go home." I feel a surge of selfish pride that Bella trusts me enough to let me take her home, even after I groped her without permission, and stop outside the downstairs bathroom to give her a chance to dry off a little before we leave.

Alice still seems concerned and hovers, her dark eyes as big as saucers and fixed on Bella's bowed head.

"Do you want me to come with you, Bella? Are you feeling okay?" I can feel a small shrug, interrupted by another shiver as Bella replies.

"No, Alice, it's fine. I'll just change and go to bed. I think I've had too much to drink. I'll see you later."

She starts moving around in my arms, and I gently set her down, making sure that she's got her balance before I let go of her and point her to the bathroom door. She looks small and dejected and I feel a strong urge to hug her.

"There are more towels in there. Dry off as much as you can, and I'll call a cab. Here, take my jacket. You'll need it."

I hand her my jacket and wait until she's locked herself safely in the bathroom before I move off to talk to Jasper. Even though my old jacket isn't much at least it's drier than what she's got on. I'm uncomfortably aware that my own pair of jeans is pretty soaked after she dripped all over them, but that's a problem I can deal with later.

Once I've assured Jasper that I'll see him back at the motel later and given him the keys to the bus I hang out by the bathroom waiting anxiously for Bella to emerge. What if she's changed her mind? What if she's angry with me? What if she fainted in there?

But then the door opens and damn if she doesn't look good in my jacket, even with her long dark hair hanging in wet strands around her pale face. She gives me a tentative smile when I give her a blanket and wrap my arm protectively around her shoulders, to make sure she doesn't stumble and fall again as I escort her through the house.

"Come on, Bella. The cab is outside. I'll make sure you get home okay."

After she scoots in the backseat and tells the driver her address she leans her head against the window with a sigh and seems to fall asleep. I'm too chicken to take her hand so I just stare at her in the flickering light from the street lamps that streams through the car. Maybe this is the start of something, or maybe this will be the last time I ever see her. Since I don't know which, I try to memorize everything about her: the curve of her cheek, the pale shell of her ear, how her throat reminds me of a swan's neck, exposed and vulnerable with her head thrown back like that. I swallow. I feel tense like a guitar string, humming with hope and desire.

We arrive at our destination much too soon. I'm not sure if she wants me to, but I try to hang on to her company for another couple of minutes by walking her to her door and making sure she gets safely inside. She lives in a tall apartment complex in a neighborhood that looks safe if not exactly affluent to my inexperienced eyes. Rock music spills from another door on her floor but otherwise the building seems quiet and clean.

I turn on the lights and take a look around the small and neat apartment, just to make sure everything is all right. There are two bedrooms and a tiny kitchen opening on the living room at the end of the hallway. I see potted plants, colorful rugs, artistic posters and books – lots and lots of books. Just like Bella, her home looks warm and pretty. When I turn back she's still standing by the front door, swaying gently on her feet and smirking at me. I can't help smiling back at her because she's cute as a puppy when she's tipsy.

"What?"

She shrugs a little, making the blanket slip from her shoulders. "Are you satisfied that it's safe for me to be here now?" Then she shivers with cold, and I curse myself for losing focus of what Bella needs right now.

"You need a hot bath and some dry clothes. Let me run you a bath before I go. You go get something warm to wear."

She complies without comment and once again I marvel at the fact that she acts so trustingly, as if I'm an old friend and not just some random guy she went to school with years ago.

Fortunately there's a bathtub in the bathroom and as the hot water starts heating up the room I contemplate losing the shirt, feeling slightly damp all over by now. I still don't know if it's okay for me to stick around any longer or if I'm just acting creepy. My instinct tells me to set up camp on the couch to be near her for as long as possible, but since I'll have to take off at the crack of dawn there's really no point unless I want to excel as a stalker by watching her sleep. Maybe I should just ask for her phone number and take off right now? But that kiss we shared… I feel a surge of heat as I remember her lips on mine and her skin under my fingers. I want to know if that meant something to her, too or if it was just me.

Then suddenly she's standing there in the warm mist right inside the bathroom door, wrapped in a bathrobe and staring at me with troubled eyes. Her pale legs and bare feet on the bathroom door look vulnerable and incredibly sexy.

"But Edward, you need to go home and change, too! You can't be comfortable in those wet jeans."

I feel desire rise in a wave from my groin when I look at her soft lips and I can't help myself, I have to touch her again.

As I step close to her I smell her sweet scent and carefully trace her cheek with my fingertips, too distracted to speak. I see her eyes flutter close and the most arousing helpless sound leaves her lips. My heart starts beating double time. So, it's not just me then?

"Do you know how pretty you are, Bella?" My voice is rough when I finally find the guts to pick up where we left off before and carefully nip at her tempting, trembling lower lip.

The effect of my lips on hers is immediate and surprising. She presses herself against me, deepening the kiss as she starts tugging at my shirt and pulling me as close as is physically possible. Her back hits the door with a thud that makes me wince, but she doesn't seem to notice. I kiss and nibble my way across the open expanse of skin where her robe falls off her shoulder, marveling at her softness and sweet taste. There's only one thing holding me back from stripping her and taking her against the wall right now: I have to make sure that she's not too drunk to know what she's doing. I've been there, and I couldn't bear it if Bella should wake up tomorrow morning filled with disgust and regret.

"Bella?"

It's not until I step back a little, stop kissing her and demand her attention that her eyes open, dark and swimming with what could be either intoxication or just plain lust. I'm hoping for the latter. I cradle her face in my hands, searching her eyes.

"Bella, I need to know that you're okay with this. Do you know what you're doing right now?"

Her only response is to press herself more firmly against my by now raging erection and smile seductively.

"I hope I'm having sex with Edward Cullen?"

God, that's all I want to hear. I attack her mouth with a groan and try not to hurt her as I press her back up against the bathroom wall, eager to feel all of her skin under my hands and mouth. As soon as I manage to free her of her robe, I peel off my shirt and tug the buttons of my wet jeans free to give my poor cock some more room. But the sight of Bella Swan naked is completely distracting and I find myself just staring at her, her perfect, round breasts and rosy nipples, the soft swell of her stomach and rounded hips and the long expanse of pale, elegant legs beneath the dark mound of her sex. I can't wait to let my nose and lips explore her all over.

Before I do anything, she attacks me with her own sweet mouth, kissing, licking and biting my nipple. The sharp pain is surprisingly arousing and my cock seems about to leap right out of my pants at the shock. I guess I must have cried out, because she immediately lets go of me, which is completely unacceptable.

"Harder!" I groan, pulling her face back to my chest to encourage the little vixen to do whatever she wants with me.

Her mouth is hot and wet when she bites and licks and kisses her way across my chest and stomach and it takes all my willpower not to rip my jeans off and impale her right there on the bathroom floor. When she seems about to go down on me, I know I can't take much more and pull her up as I wrench open the bathroom door. We need to do this right.

"Bedroom, Bella. Now."

I don't know if it's her pulling or me pushing, but we fortunately end up right where I wanted us to, on top of a bed in one of the bedrooms, Bella stretched out on her back beneath me, her white body almost iridescent in the light streaming through the window onto the messy bed. If I'd had enough patience I would have gone looking for a light switch or set up a sea of candles to light her beauty but as it is, I can't be bothered to move one inch away from her.

She's biting her lip again, her eyes huge and dark in her face. I really hope she's not having second thoughts already? In the middle of my seething desire, I'm filled with a deep tenderness for her, a tenderness I want her to feel more than anything. I touch her beautiful face carefully and whisper:

"Shhh, Bella. Don't worry. Let me take care of you."

I've dreamed of this moment so many times. Having her naked and vulnerable under my hands, being able to touch her in every way I wish. I kiss her sweet skin, licking and sucking on her nipples until they're hard as pebbles, rolling the magical round softness of her breasts in my hands and marveling at how they fit there so perfectly.

I kiss the inside of her arms, her fingers, sucking them into my mouth. I kiss her hips, her soft stomach, nudging her thighs apart so I can kiss and bite gently at the soft flesh there. Finally, I kiss her sex, moaning as I drink in the sweet, musky smell and taste of her. Her folds are slippery and soft as silk, and I explore her with my tongue and fingers, taking my cue from her small sounds of pleasure and the way she squirms under me, sometimes pushing against my face, sometimes trying to move away from me. I wonder if I can make her come like this?

But before I can find out, she explodes into action again, struggling to push me down on my back so that she can get to work on me, kissing me all over. I can't help laughing at how adorable it feels to have this fierce kitten take control, but as soon as she frees my aching cock from my pants, I'm helpless, too, putty in her hands.

I may be reasonably experienced, but I swear nothing has prepared me for the sight of Bella between my thighs, licking and sucking on me. It's all I can do not to moan out loud. I'm about to explode just from the sight of that innocent face looking up at me while doing something so dirty and erotic. Everything starts spiraling out of control as the delicious pressure builds in my groin and I gasp out:

"Stop!"

I must be an idiot to try and stop her from giving me a mind-blowing orgasm, but I have other plans for our first night together. I take her hand and touch her cheek, checking to see if she's ready for me.

"I need to be inside you."

In spite of the indirect light from the window, I can see her eyes staring at me as she nods without speaking. She wants me! I feel a mixture of excitement and panic at the thought that I will finally realize one of my longest-standing fantasies, pun intended. But first I need to find my emergency condoms.

It's an excruciating minute before I've located a condom in my tangled pants and am kneeling on the bed once again above Bella, who is sprawled out with one hand in her hair and another half-open on the bed turned up in a gesture of supplication. For a second it occurs to me that she might be a virgin, but then I reject the idea. She's too desirable to have been left alone this long, and too bold in bed to not know what she's doing. Who goes through college a virgin, really?

It shouldn't bother me, but with a pang I wish that we could have been one another's first love, first fuck, first everything. But I have to let it go. I'm here with her now, which is infinitely more than I could have dreamt of only this afternoon when we drove into Chicago.

I touch her reverently. "You're so soft."

My fingers are trembling as I position myself, then slowly let myself sink into her. Oh.

I can't help the sounds that burst out of my chest as I feel her tighten around me. The feeling is too exquisite and it makes every hair on my body stand erect in sympathy with my cock. I think a black hole must just have opened at the top of my skull. It's sucking pleasure from my cock in a dizzying whirlwind straight through my body, creating an electric, throbbing white-hot connection with the cosmos. In other words, I'm going out of my mind here. The only way to stay sane is to start thrusting, reliving the pleasure of that first contact again. And again. And again.

I'm jolted out of my hypnotized state by Bella moving under me and suddenly changing the angle of my thrusts. I can't help cursing.

"Fuck, Bella!"

I'm going even deeper now, and her little noises and kicking heels alert me to the fact that she's impatient for me to move faster, so I do. There's only one, swiftly escalating problem. The faster and harder I go, the more enthusiastic her sounds get and it's pushing me towards the edge much too fast. I want to go for hours, not finish in embarrassing five minutes. I'd better put her in control.

I pick her up and roll us around, almost getting tangled in the rumpled bed covers.

Oh yes!

The view is even more spectacular when she's straddling me. I see her perfect breasts bouncing as she starts moving, taking me in and riding me, at first hesitantly but then with a growing urgency. I support her weight with my hands, relishing the feeling of her round hips, her soft thighs at my sides and the wet sounds we make slapping together. When she leans down I reach up to suck and kiss her perky nipples, which makes her grind over me and moan loudly. No porno ever turned me on like this. I love this girl on top.

And then she's coming, and the sight of her giving herself over to her own pleasure is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. Her face just opens up like a flower, and when I feel her pulsing around me it's only my rapt concentration on her radiant expression that saves me from following her over the crest of the hill.

I wait to let her ride it out and then I gently pull away from her, allowing her to collapse on the bed for a minute to recuperate, as I change positions once more. I only want to try one more thing…

My hands trace the long curves of her body before I help her up on her hands and knees. Her ass is the most erotic thing imaginable, round and white like the moon. I nudge her legs further apart to make room for myself between them. Just the sight of her from behind like this, open for me and dripping wet, is almost enough to make me explode. Bella, my unobtainable goddess, is also the sexiest fucking woman alive, and now she's mine. All mine.

"Bella, you're so lovely. And you have the most fucking delicious ass. God! This will be quick."

My chest contracts with the tension of my desire and I can't hold back one second longer so I just go all in, one long stroke, burying myself in her as I pull her towards me, hard. Yes! God, yes! I see stars behind my closed eyelids and I think I may pass out from the deep pleasure fanning out through my body.

Bella cries out, and in spite of everything, I slow down, even though my cock is straining to go. I touch her carefully, wanting her to feel good and know how much I cherish her, in spite of the wantonness of her position. I lick my lips and try to speak coherently.

"Are you okay?"

When she pushes back towards me and sighs her aquiescense I let my raging lust take over and just pound into her again and again and again until … Oh my fucking God! The avalanche of an orgasm almost obliterates me and I groan loudly as I feel her milking me until I can't keep upright anymore. I collapse on top of her with my legs and spine feeling like jelly.

When I come back to myself and realize I have her pretty much flattened to the mattress beneath my body, I pull out and take care of the condom, roll over and fold her into my arms. She's warm and soft, her skin is damp and when I bury my face in her tangled hair it smells of sex and pure Bella. I'm so happy I could fucking cry right now.

"Oh, Bella …"

After a while, I feel her body go limp and heavy in my arms and her breaths grow deep and slow. Not wanting to wake her, I pull some of the fabric on the bed up around us, making a nest of sorts so that she won't get cold. Then I just lie there and listen to sounds from the surrounding apartments and the occasional car on the street, feeling drowsy and spent.

But soon reality starts seeping in, like icy rain finding its way inside your collar. Tomorrow is only hours away now, and what will happen then?

The more I think about it the more I feel a cold panic gripping my guts and making my muscles tense and cramp. The best case scenario is that tomorrow we leave for Indianapolis and I and Bella exchange phone numbers. Two months more of touring around the country, and then I might be able to sneak in a visit to see her before we go into a studio to record our first full-length album, which is probably another two months of intense work. And then we will be touring for two to six months to launch it. After that we start working on the songs for the next album. Rinse and repeat.

And what's the worst case scenario, if we fail to land our record contract? After the end of this tour the band will be back where we started, looking for another record company to sign us, most of us trying to juggle two low-paying jobs while we hunt bookings for the band so we can go on the road again.

There's no room for Bella in all of this, no room at all, even assuming she would want to be a part of my life after tonight. How could I ask her to put her life on hold to be with me when I'm constantly moving around and working? I can barely support myself, much less a girl like her who has ambitions and goals in life.

I hug her sleeping self to me more tightly, even as I feel the dream of her slipping through my fingers like the pearls of a broken necklace scattering across a room. My thoughts are all over the place and my heart is almost beating its way out of my chest; I feel as if I'm having a panic attack.

Maybe I'm being a complete idiot – how can I just assume that this night meant as much to Bella as it did to me? I'm the one who used to obsess over her picture in the yearbook, not she. Maybe she's perfectly content to write me off as a hot one-night-stand? What if this is something she does all the time with other guys?

Hot jealousy floods me right on the heels of my cold insecurity and I feel as if I'm being tortured in hell while outwardly my body remains calm and still, wrapped around Bella's sleeping form.

I've got no time to show her what she means to me, no time at all. And how could I convince her to drop everything and come with me while touring across the country? Should I even try to do something so incredibly selfish?

The more my mind churns through the facts of our situation the more convinced I become that it's better for Bella if I get out now, before I do her any real harm. Isn't it better if she remembers a night of hot sex with a boy from her past than if I try to hang onto her pathetically, like a limpet unable to let go?

Maybe, if I really do become successful one day she'll remember me, and then I'll have something to offer her. Until then, I should keep out of her life so I don't mess anything up for her in the way that I always seem to do with everyone I care about.

With a heavy heart, I disentangle myself from the bed and quietly collect my clothes and things from where I've left them strewn around the apartment. I shudder as I pull on my still-damp jeans. For the longest time I stand in the doorway to her bedroom, unable to tear myself away from the sight of Bella sleeping like a beautiful princess on an enchanted bed and surrounded by a halo of silver light.

But eventually I know it's time to leave. I find a piece of paper and a pen in the tiny kitchen and hesitate over it while the minutes tick away. Should I try to explain myself? Leave her my phone number? Thank her for a wonderful time? In the end I can't think of a single thing but my burning regret that we can't be together. So that's what I leave behind, before I tip-toe out of the apartment in the grey light of dawn.

My head is pounding as I pay the cab driver and woodenly drag myself back to my motel room. Surprisingly enough, it's empty. Jasper must have gotten lucky last night, too. I smile sadly as I strip off my rumpled clothes and dive under the covers to try for a few hours of sleep. Jasper isn't one to fuck around so this means he must have found someone he thought was really special, which probably means more heartbreak in the band. Great. We'll be the most depressing rock band since Joy Division if we keep this up.

I finally drift off to a troubled sleep with Love Will Tear Us Apart ringing in my ears.

A/N. No promises, but I will try to add a few more chapters to this story, starting from Edward's point of view. A big hug and a thank you to anyone who's still reading!