Ok guys – I'm so sorry it's been as long as it has. School and work have literally been kicking my butt into oblivion. I appreciate your patience!

Summary of last chapter (since it's been a decade or two): Edward plans to attend the family dinner, but him and Bella find themselves in an almost kiss moment before being interrupted by Alice. Edward, upset at Bella's reaction, runs off before all can be explained, and resolved.

Here is the aftermath:

Chapter Nine: Thinking of You

Sweet revelation, sweet surrender

Thinking of you … (mjk)

BPOV:

"Can I just say, what the hell?" I glared at Alice from the opposite end of the kitchen, secretly wishing I was capable of injecting my gaze with as much venom as Edward regularly did. Of course, I felt more along the lines of super freak out/panic attack mode, so being angry at Alice was definitely a losing battle.

So I turned away from her to look at my dinner, which, unfortunately, had not fared too well because of Edward's very distracting visit to the kitchen. My mind raced as I began to mull over the implications of what had just happened, but I couldn't really get an full grasp on it, because Alice was still standing right in front of me, impatiently tapping her foot, waiting for some sort of explanation.

What the fuck, I thought. I'd been dying to talk about it with someone, anyway.

"Look, Alice," I began, giving up on my sauce and turning to face her. "I know what you're going to ask me, and I really wish I had more answers for you, but I just don't. I'm even more clueless about what just went down than you are."

She wasn't buying it. "I know what I saw. You and my brother, my psychotic, over dramatic, moody, and impossible to get along with brother were seriously just about to kiss! That's not something that just randomly happens, at least not with Edward."

"I can't respond to that, because I don't know him well enough to say what does and what does not happen with him." This was relatively true. Edward was the guy who for, whatever reason, had initially told me he couldn't be anywhere near me because I reminded him of someone. Then, Edward was the guy who sat beside me in Creative Writing and read the most amazing poetry I'd ever heard out loud to the class. Next, Edward was the guy who shared cigarettes and music and quiet with me for nearly every evening after that. Edward was also the guy who took me for a midnight walk in the woods, and wrapped his arms around me when I fell asleep to make sure I didn't get cold. Edward was the guy who ignored me again for some unknown reason afterwards. And now … now Edward was the guy who had seriously lit a fire underneath me by a non-kiss. I was still a bit shaky from everything that had just transpired in less than a matter of minutes, and I leaned against the kitchen counter for support.

Edward and I almost kissed. I thought those words very plainly and tried to wrap my brain around it. Edward had wanted to kiss me. I had wanted to kiss Edward. My crotch was vibrating with excitement from just the sheer possibility of a kiss. I shifted uncomfortably, seriously embarrassed that zero physical contact by Edward had been the closest thing to sexual ecstasy I had ever experienced. I wanted to go upstairs and take a cold shower, or at least change my underwear. But Alice wasn't helping any, and I swore that girl had the ability to see straight through me.

"Bella," she said, coming up beside me and smiling apologetically. "My brother is an ass. I mean, I love him to death, and if ever lets you in enough to see it, he can be the most amazing guy ever. But you've only known him three weeks. He's never let anyone in that quickly … especially not a girl."

I sighed. In almost every way, Alice was completely right. Edward WAS an ass. He'd never treated me with anything but indifference until lately, and even that was in random, unpredictable spurts. And even then, I had always felt as if I were just waiting for him to suddenly decide he didn't want to be around me anymore. It had already happened twice; I wasn't out of my mind to expect it.

"Alice," I told her, "in maybe the mildest possible sense, Edward and I are sort of friends. We hang out at night sometimes, and we have a class together."

"You hang out with Edward? You mean … willingly? Like it's your choice?"

"Alice! Why are you freaking out? He's YOUR brother, and, I happen to enjoy his company. He's not half bad when he's not being an asshole."

Alice smirked at me, her eyes lighting up with devilish glee. "You totally like him." She said it as a statement, not a question, and I felt my skin heating up without my consent. I turned away from her, back to my ruined sauce, and began stirring as if I could somehow salvage it. She came closer, still behind me, but out of the corner of my eye I could see that she was still wearing that ridiculous grin, and her eyebrows were cocked as if she was considering saying something or setting a plan in motion.

"I don't like him," I said once some of the warmth in my skin had faded. "I mean, why the fuck would I? He's so impossible, Alice, I swear," I could feel the words pushing up right out of me, and the verbal vomit and truth would likewise come sputtering out. "He's so intense, and he can give you this look that is just completely murderous … as if he's seriously contemplating how to kill you. And then, other times, he just looks so sad, like he's broken, and all he needs is some taking care of. I can't figure him out, and part of me wants to, but the other is just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to AGAIN realize that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. So, no, Alice … I don't like him, because if I did, then that would actually mean that I'm totally naive to the situation and to who Edward Cullen really is."

I took a deep breath, the rush of speaking so openly about Edward like taking a needle to a balloon and letting all of the air out. It was such a relief; it was as if by finally talking to someone about it, I had somehow validated that all of it had really happened, even though Alice still wasn't aware of all those little details. But I looked over at her, and a knowing smile was apparent on her face, and I felt the comfort of confessing something to a friend who was not going to in any way judge me or make me feel stupid about having the feelings and insecurities that I had.

"I don't think you're naïve," Alice said, putting her hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezing it. "A little vulnerable, maybe, but never naïve. Even though he's my brother, I can understand the allure. He's intimidating to the point where it almost stops working, and instead you just want to figure him out."

She caught my eye and raised her eyebrows in solidarity. "It wasn't easy for even Edward and I to get close. I know he doesn't really let people in from experience. It took a lot from him to trust me, but he really hurt me in the process, as well. That was years ago, and so we're both over it, but Edward, as his core, is still very much the same."

"Maybe you're right," I sighed with defeat. If Edward had put Alice through something similar when he first met her and they were able to get past it and eventually become friends, then maybe there was some sort of hope for our relationship after all.

Of course, noting that my knees were still weak and my hands were still trembling from Edward's sheer physical proximity only moments before, I knew that I really didn't want to just be friends with him. I wanted to have that honey sweet breath on the tip of my tongue and see if his skin tasted the way that it smelled. I wanted to run my hands over his stubbly facial hair; I wanted to hold it between my teeth and run my mouth all over the contours of his jaw. I wanted to press my palms against the peaks of his chest. I wanted him primitively; there was nothing innocent about it. I had never really let myself think about it before, since the idea of Rosalie had always been in the forefront of my mind. But now that she was out of the picture, and apparently, very much involved with Emmett, the idea of those sounds coming from my mouth was a much easier one to consider. He was single, and even if he wasn't the least bit interested in me that way, at least there wasn't some gorgeous blond standing in my way.

I thought about what he'd last said, before he left, how the moment was "fucking gone," and I bit my lip in regret. I hadn't meant to say what I'd said, I just wasn't sure if Alice was going to be upset or not, and I didn't want Edward taking the fall for whatever had happened. And secretly, I was really afraid he was going to say the very thing that had come out of my mouth, and I was terrified of how it would feel for him to admit that almost kissing me would have been a mistake. So yeah … I panicked and I'm a coward and I said something untrue and possibly hurtful because I was trying to protect myself.

I knew what I had to do. But that would all come later; for now, I still had to do what I could to salvage this evening, and this dinner, before Dr. Cullen came in wondering what the hell was taking so long.

"Can we talk about this later, Alice? Everyone's starving, and I've got to put a new cream sauce on the stove before the questions start coming."

"I'll help you," she said. "But, my dear Bella, we will talk about this later. Okay?"

I sighed with acceptance. I was really beginning to love Alice dearly and consider her to be the first female friend I'd ever had, but who knew girls could be so demanding?

***

After dinner, after everyone had gone to bed, I sat in the empty kitchen with the lights off, waiting for Edward to come home. Okay … it was a bit stalkerish and maybe a smidge pathetic, but I wasn't going to let him get away with doing the disappearing act again. I was sick of the silence and I was definitely sick of his indifference. We were going to talk about this, and we were going to do it now.

I took a swig of tequila and winced as it coarsely burned my throat. I had a plan in mind, one that had usually found me in a fair amount of trouble in my earlier days. But I had to take action, and I had to do it quickly, because there was no way I was going to let more awkward avoidance pass between me and Edward. So I sat in the kitchen, chugging back the alcohol like it was water, and waited for him to come home.

Forty five minutes later I was past the point of belligerence, and so my resolve to figure this thing out had only strengthened. There's nothing like liquid courage, I thought wistfully to myself. But there was still a little piece of me, though small and now somewhat muffled out by copious amount of tequila, that was worried that Edward was a) not going to come home, and b) not going to want to talk to me when he did.

But at that exact moment the kitchen door opened, and in he stepped, hair wild and a little wet from the mist outside. He didn't see me yet and so I took this chance to really mull him over, and I was again struck by his quiet and effortless beauty. He wore his faded dark jeans that were blissfully snug in the crotch and the same old leather jacket that he seemed to never be without. The warmth that was blossoming from below spread like a stain and I shifted in my seat unconsciously, causing Edward to notice my presence and turn his eyes toward me.

But it was not a bitter look that he cast my way. It was alarmed, confused, maybe, as he seemed to be trying to make sense out of my casually sitting on the bar stool eagerly clutching a bottle of Jose Cuervo to my lips.

"Hola, Edward!" I cried, thrusting the bottle up to emphasize my greeting. "We are going to have a conversation, you and I. I brought a friend so the awkwardness is not so much." He raised in eyebrows at me, his face a little hard, but then he broke off into a slight smile and chuckled in response.

"Who's your friend?" He moved to sit opposite me on the other side of the counter, and I noticed how he was still so much taller than me even while sitting down. I tried to elongate myself by stretching forward in the stool but I somehow ended up falling backwards and onto my ass on the floor. I clutched the bottle protectively over my chest as Edward jumped up and was very quickly at my side.

"My friend's name is Jose. Jose is sometimes not the nicest, because he ruins my coordination." Edward was crouched beside me, sitting on the balls of his feet, his eyes all scrunched together as if my falling was really worrisome.

"You should be careful. You could have fallen on your head and not your backside."

I laughed very loudly. "You are so proper sometimes. I fell on my ass, Edward. It's okay to say it in front of me; I won't be offended."

He looked very puzzled, as if there was some great debate going on in his head, but then he shrugged and sat cross legged with me on the tile floor. Our knees almost touched as we sat in the same position, and I really wanted to inch forward to close the distance. He reached over and took the bottle from my hands, and threw his head back and took a deep swig. I was impressed. Edward could take one back.

He passed the bottle back to me and I took a swig, but with much less grace than Edward had. Tequila slopped out of my mouth and onto my chin and dribbled down my neck to my shirt. I giggled at the mess I'd made of myself; I was a sloppy drunk, but I never seemed to care in the moment. I was too busy relishing in the fact that the alcohol had allowed me to finally really think and consider all the faint ideas that I had been pushing away for so long now. Here he was, here Edward was, sitting right beside me on the marble floor, sipping back tequila as if we'd been friends for years. None of the previous awkwardness seemed to matter.

"I didn't know you were a drinker," Edward said after I'd passed the bottle back to him.

"Really, baby, there's not a lot that you do know about me. You're too busy telling me you have to avoid me or listening to your goddamn headphones to ask me any questions. I am really sooo layered, Edward. Look!" To help prove my point, I stood abruptly, about to do the thing I swore I would never do, especially under such circumstances. I lifted the hem of my shirt up and the waist of my jeans down, exposing the raised and splotchy ink that was tattooed right below my hip bone. I could see Edward's eyes blink in surprise, and his hand lifted towards me, as if he wanted to trace the tattoo with his fingers. Ours eyes met, and despite the alcohol, I was suddenly embarrassed, and I pulled my shirt down quickly.

"What does 3/16/2005 stand for?" The question was inevitable, and yet even though I had shown it to him, I still wasn't really prepared to answer. But I had no choice, really.

"It's the day my parents were killed," I whispered. We were quiet for a long moment, and Edward took the bottle of tequila from me and swallowed down two long swigs, and suddenly the bottle was empty. I was completely drunk, and had been for the last hour, and peeking at Edward's bloodshot eyes and bobbing head, I could tell he was right there with me. Good, I thought. Maybe for once, we'll be in the same place at the same time.

"My parents are dead, too," he said. "Well, my mom is, and my dad … he may as well be. He ran out on us when I was a kid." We stared at each other, and suddenly the moment felt too heavy to be comfortable to either of us.

"Let's play a game," I suggested, inching forward and propping my elbows on my knees. "Do you have anything else to drink in here?"

"Yeah, Carlisle's got a liquor cabinet up in his office." He stood abruptly, and reached his hand down to pull me up. I pondered his extended wrist, and grew irrationally excited, and an girlish giggle escaped from my lips. Edward pulled me up, quickly and with too much force, and we were eye to eye, although he was much taller than I, so his head had to lean down pretty far to meet my gaze. He smiled seductively at me, and it was a look I had never seen him give. All of the expressions I'd ever received from Edward had always been on the far side of somber, and now no bitter grey was dulling his light. I smiled back at him, and he turned away, pulling me by my wrist to follow him.

He led me up the curving staircase, and though Edward was leading me, he was going much too fast for me to keep my balance, and I tripped a couple of times, each fall ending with my face dropping in defeat and then winding up in an explosion of laughter from the both of us. When we finally made it to Dr. Cullen's office, Edward turned to me and held his index finger to pursed lips. "Shhh!" he commanded, and there was a devilish gleam to his eyes. He winked at me, and led me into Dr. Cullen's office.

The office was a room I had not yet entered, as I had mostly kept my presence confined to my bedroom and the kitchen. It was dark mahogany everywhere, the walls, the furniture, and ebony leather touches complimented the rich interior. Edward let go of my head and walked over to the desk and switched on the lamp, which illuminated the room in a soft yellow glow. He walked over to a cabinet behind it, and opened it which revealed a wide assortment of dark and light colored liquor. The gleam in Edward's eye was even more devilish. I clutched my hands to my chest and squealed.

"Now, since you were so kind to introduce me to your friend Jose, I am going to introduce you to my friend, Mr. Patron." He pulled out a bottle and shook it for emphasis. "He's a little classier than your friend, and he goes down a bit smoother. Once you meet my friend you'll never talk to your friend again."

"Is that a fact? Give me a taste, and I will be the judge." But because I was already so drunk, I couldn't tell the difference from one type of alcohol to the next, but it did go down quite smoothly.

"Okay, mister smarty pants, bring your friend over here, because we're going to play a game." Again we sat cross-legged on Dr. Cullen's Persian rug, again facing each other, again knees almost touching. I took the two glasses Edward had brought down from the cabinet and filled them half way, and handed Edward his.

"So this is how it goes. It's called 'I've Never …' We each will take turns saying some type of statement, like, 'I've never drank tequila,' and if either of the players have done it, they have to take a drink. Get it?"

"Sounds easy enough. Do you want to go first?"

"Yes, me first, it's my game." I paused, trying to think of a good starter question. "Okay, here goes: I've never gone skinny-dipping." Very quickly I took a sip of my drink, noticing Edward's surprised smirk and the fact that his drink remained still in his left hand.

"Hmm … Ms. Bella Swan. I guess you're a bit of a dare devil. I think I like this game … getting to know the finer side of you."

"Oh, don't be an ass, Edward, and just play the game!"

"Yes, ma'am." He theatrically raised his eyebrows and stroked his chin as if he were thinking really hard. "Okay … I've never had sex." Obviously Edward was saying this just to get an answer out of me, as we both very well knew that he was no virgin. I sighed, bit my lower lip seductively, and took a sip of my drink at the same exact time as Edward. Again his eyebrows raised, and he grinned a bit triumphantly.

"Now, Ms. Bella, one has to wonder, since Question Number One of this game exposed your enjoyment of swimming in the nude, and Question Number Two has just unveiled your lack of chastity, again, one has to wonder, did both of events ever occur at the same time?"

"That is not part of the game, Edward!" I said indignantly. I could feel myself getting redder by the second. I was suddenly very hot, but I wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or because I was falling over the edge of belligerence or because Edward's face was just inches from mine, and my heat from below was flaring up again. It was incredibly thrilling having a sexually themed conversation with Edward, even if a lot of it was centered around him teasing me, especially about things I wouldn't have been comfortable talking about in normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances: we were drunk, we were giddy, and we were inches away from each other and I had not the slightest inclination of backing away, and I was guessing he didn't either.

"The point of the game," I continued, "is to find out what each other has and has not done. Elaboration on those things is not in the rule book."

"Fine." He was closer still, and our noses were almost touching, much similar to the compromising stance we'd been in in the kitchen hours earlier. "I believe it's your turn, Miss Provocateur."

"Yes, it is," I whispered. "I've never been in love." I backed away from his face then, so sure that Edward was going not to take a drink from his glass. But he surprised me again, as both of us raised our drinks to our lips hesitantly, taking the smallest sip possible, as if the amount of liquid consumed in that moment would have diminished the enormity of the topic. If someone were to have asked me days earlier if I had ever been in love before, I would have responded with a resounding 'no.' But for some reason, sitting in this softly lit room with Edward, it felt wrong to say no. It both shocked and frightened me, and I had no idea why.

"You've been in love before?" he asked, and through my drunken stupor I could slightly detect the faintest edge of disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair and sucked his full lips into his teeth.

"I don't know," I said as honestly as I could. "But if I'm not sure, then I shouldn't say no, right?"

"But I think that's the thing about love. I think you're supposed to know."

"But maybe it's not as black and white as everyone says it is. Maybe it's just … there, you know? And maybe it's not textbook, but it's still enough to make you wonder." Truthfully, until this very moment, I had never really considered the possibility of love, but I had unwittingly been struck by the notion to bring it up. And it felt strange, and yet oddly familiar speaking about it with Edward. The tequila gave me nerves I would have never had, and I wanted to tell Edward right then and there that I was madly and completely in love with him, even though I wasn't sure if that was even the real and honest truth.

"Your turn," I said, hoping to avoid any further discussion on the topic.

"I've never made love before," he said softly. He set his drink down firmly, as if to solidify his response. I set my drink down too, and I looked down from it and up at him, and our eyes locked. It was a moment of complete and utter understanding. And I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol dimming my inhibitions or if it were just Edward himself, but something deep within me completely shifted in that moment. And I think we both knew: there was no turning back.

I pushed my drink completely aside, and, without hesitation, moved to kiss Edward Cullen.

Okay – I am totally evil, I know. But leaving it at this point will inspire me to update faster, especially since I've already continued writing it. What will also help are reviews that let me know people are still reading, because it HAS been forever. Thank you … you all are amazing.