Chapter 8: Yakity Yak

Disclaimer: Not mine. I donut own them.

There was an annoying amount of thought that went into planning this little get together. Bella had thought long and hard about when, where and how to to have this conversation.

On the one hand, Bella felt entirely vulnerable. She was extending an olive branch knowing that there was a good chance he would never believe her side of the story. She was finally giving him a sign of trust because she needed to hope that this situation would turn out alright.

On the other hand, having Edward Cullen in her home was a nerve wracking prospect. There was no telling how he would judge the little pieces of her that were scattered on the wall, lining the bookshelf, or making up the organized chaos of her desk. Was there something that made up part of her life that would cause Edward to think she'd be a bad parent?

But, she reasoned with herself, if Edward was going to make those types of arguments, there was nothing she could do to prevent that. She was exactly who she was, and Edward wasn't going to change either. Whatever arguments lay in their future over what was best for their child were unavoidable.

That aside, her home was the best place for this conversation. It gave her a sense of comfort. If the need arose, she had every right to order him out.

Bella put her head in her hands, growling at herself. She was definitely putting too much thought into the whole situation.

Her doorbell rang just then and there was no time left to fidget. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Bella got up to answer the door.

The sight that greeted her was slightly surreal. Edward was leaning against her door jamb, a soft smile spreading across his face as she opened the door. She was struck by how he looked against the background of the hills of Los Feliz - with the sky a clear blue and Griffith Observatory visible just over his shoulder. It was like a scene straight out of a movie.

And to top it all off he was proffering her what looked like bread.

She raised an eyebrow in question as she took the bread from him. It looked homemade.

"It's Amish Friendship Bread," he explained. "It's not really Amish. I think the name comes from the fact that it's like a very uh...primitive chain letter. You're supposed to bring the bread to share with a friend and leave the starter so they can make their own bread, and so on and so on. It takes days to make." He lifted his other hand from the door jamb, showing her a brown paper bag in which, she assumed, was the starter he was talking about.

He was trying to disarm her.

She was appropriately disarmed.

Turning back into the house so he couldn't see her smile, Bella held the door open wide. "Thank you. It smells delicious."

Edward stopped short almost as soon as he was in the door. He looked around and Bella could feel the tips of her ears burning. Her decor was made up almost primarily of movie posters with the odd photograph. "It looks like a college dorm room in here," her mother had giggled when she'd visited right after Bella had bought the house a year before. She'd chafed then and felt defensive now.

Though he didn't ask, she felt the need to explain. Renee hadn't understood, and maybe Edward wouldn't either, but she couldn't help but try. "Do you know what I like about movies?" Now it was his turn to raise a questioning eyebrow, and Bella flushed a deeper shade of red. Of course he didn't know. He had no way of knowing that she was a movie buff. "If it's done right, there isn't a thing about movies that isn't done on purpose. Everything - from the choice of costume to the choice of vocal inflection is telling part of the story. There are no, or should be no, superfluous lines. Everything you see and hear is the result of a specific choice meant to tell you more."

She cleared her throat, feeling self conscious at her sudden need to word vomit but persevered. "Movie posters aren't any different. There's an art to them just like every other part of a movie. You just might not realize it because it's all unconscious - marketing, you know - but it's there."

The term for Edward at that moment might have been aptly described as stuck on stupid. His brain became white noise. He felt the goofy smile on his face but he couldn't do anything about it. Instead, he managed to clear his throat. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked after a few awkward, but not entirely unpleasant, moments.

Bella debated internally and nodded her head in the direction of her kitchen table. It wasn't as comfortable as the living room, but the subject warranted a less casual atmosphere. After she'd gotten them both water bottles from the fridge and plates for the bread she sat down, breathing deeply before beginning. "I wanted to talk to you about Rosalie."

"What about Rosalie?" Edward asked, and she didn't miss how guarded his expression became.

She sipped her water slowly, still unsure how to best explain her purpose behind bringing this up at all. Edward had seemed content not to mention it. "I guess I just don't understand how you can trust me, knowing what you think I did to your sister. And why."

Edward blinked, a sense of déjà vu coming over him. This was almost exactly the conversation he'd had repeatedly with Rosalie. He'd come up with a multitude of things that Bella could have wanted to discuss, but this had not been one of them. "I think what you did to my sister is something most people would do. You work at an entertainment news show. She was fool enough to be with Royce King in the first place, let alone let him video her having sex. I'm not saying she deserved it but," he trailed off and sighed. "We all knew Royce was an asshole."

"So does that mean you think I'm equally an asshole for leaking the tape?" she pressed.

Again, Edward sighed and poked at his bread so he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes. "I'm not oblivious to the way the world works, Bella. Advancing in any level of business isn't always about talent - it's about luck and who you know. Believe me, I understand that Hollywood is that to the nth degree. I think, in that atmosphere, it's easy for even an otherwise decent person to ..."

"To what?" Bella challenged. There really wasn't a good way to finish that. "To dehumanize a person to that degree?"

He looked up at her, his green eyes hard and his lips pressed into a thin line. "Then why did you do it?"

Her eyes were steady when they locked with his across the table. "I didn't."

Edward's eyes narrowed but he didn't speak, knowing she must have more to say. Bella took a deep breath, forcing back her defensiveness. After all, he had every right to believe what he believed. "I was working late that day - but a lot of people were. I have no idea why he came to me. All I know is that one minute I was in the editing bay alone, the next minute an internationally known movie star was leaning in the doorway."

Bella frowned. Years later, she was still displeased with how she had reacted. His presence had made her instantly tongue tied and nervous. People at her level didn't typically interact with the stars that they sometimes passed in the hallway, and Royce was in a rare class of his own. He was devastatingly handsome, charming - when he was sober - and powerful.

He had put on a huge smile, leaning in and assaulting her nose with a horrid smelling cologne. He was, he said, in a bit of a hurry and Rose was caught up in some meeting. Did she know Rose? Of course she did - who didn't? Was she aware of the dissolution of their couplehood? Who wasn't? Their fights had been very public and had appeared, in gory, high color detail, in all the tabloids. Besides, even though she couldn't have cared less, Bella worked at an entertainment news show. Of course she knew that they'd split.

Well, Royce had continued, he needed to give her this tape he had. He'd leaned in even closer then and wrapped one arm around Bella's shoulders. Bella had tried to cringe away, but he'd held onto her. The tape, he confided was very personal in nature. He would miss it, but Rose was demanding it back. He'd leered, making it obvious exactly what was on the tape.

He'd asked if he could trust Bella to deliver the tape and not tell a soul.

Before Bella could find her tongue and tell him that she had no interest or business in this highly personal matter, he'd grinned widely. Speaking over her sputtered response, he'd rained down profuse thanks as he backed out the door, leaving the tape next to her. Then he was gone.

If she hadn't been on deadline, she would have taken the tape straight to Rosalie. But, as it was, she couldn't leave the editing bay. Half an hour later, Aro Scarpinato - the head of the network - appeared behind her. He'd seen the video with Royce's name conveniently printed on it and popped it into the player over Bella's protests. She still remembered how his eyes had gleamed when the scene played out in front of him. "How very interesting."

"That's...awfully coincidental," Edward said skeptically.

"What? That the head of the network would show up in a lowly production assistant's editing bay on the same night that an international movie star did?" Bella asked, and then she laughed because it sounded ridiculous. Like the plot of some stupid soap opera. "You were right, what you said earlier about Hollywood being about who you know. But it's also about allegiances.

"What I think happened was that Royce went to Aro first. But Aro is the head of the network and Rose is one of the network's top attractions. Sorry," she said ruefully.

Edward waved a hand. "So you're saying they set you up so Aro's hands would be clean and he could keep whatever relationship with my sister?" Bella nodded. "That's..."

"It's not a baseless assumption. A couple of weeks after everything went down, Royce came to see me again," Bella said, frowning as she remembered. "He was waiting for me by my car. He actually had the nerve to put his arm around me again, and he started trying to kiss me. He said I owed him because he handpicked me to help my career because, 'I was as pretty as a Georgia peach,'" Bella shuddered, as grossed out as she had been then.

"What?" Despite that he was still skeptical about Bella's story, Edward was surprised at the shot of pure rage that went through him. He hated Royce King with a passion. The idea that his particular brand of slime had touched Bella made him furious.

Bella was equally surprised by his reaction, but covered well. "Don't worry. You remember, right around the time the tape broke, Royce had a hand injury?"

"Yeah. He had his fingers taped up," Edward recalled. "I always assumed Rose kicked his ass."

"Nope. That was me," Bella confessed.

For the second time, Edward's mouth dropped open. "Really?"

"He wouldn't get his hands off me. I warned him," she smirked.

No matter what he thought about the rest of her story, Edward couldn't be surprised that Bella was capable of breaking Royce's hand. They were quiet as Edward thought her story over. Bella fought the urge to squirm in her seat, vacillating between anxiety that he would call her a liar and anger at herself for being so g'damn anxious.

She had to admit to herself that Edward's opinion meant something to her, even if she didn't want it to.

The silence had gotten so deep and long that Bella actually jumped when Edward burst out laughing. "The truth, in this town, is stranger than fiction, isn't it?"

"You believe me?" she asked, wishing she didn't sound so mystified.

Edward smiled. "Well, yeah. I just don't understand why you didn't tell Rosalie this."

How did one tell someone that their sister was an overbearing, diva shrew? Bella decided that it was not the topic to broach when there seemed to be an odd sense of peace and camaraderie between them. She took the advice of Thumper and millions of parents since the beginning of time and said nothing, choosing a smile and a shrug instead.

"I know you don't like Rosalie," Edward said, breaking her silence.

"Why would you say that?" Bella's voice wasn't outraged enough for it to be a denial. Lying wasn't among her many talents, and she knew it. That was why she never had an interest in ending up on the business end of the camera.

"Mmm," Edward sounded more amused than annoyed at her admission by proxy. "Jasper let it slip one day. Well, I mean he said that 'she wasn't as bad as we'd made her out to be'. I assumed you were the other half of that we."

Again, Bella said nothing. Besides give her audience free stuff, she'd never seen Rosalie Hale do a single kind thing and had only spoken to the woman when she was yelling.

"It's okay, you know. I understand what she looks like to someone who doesn't know her. Believe me, even I have my moments with her." He rolled his eyes. Lately, his interactions with his sister had been nothing but a series of those moments. Rosalie felt betrayed that her twin seemed to like the woman that she viewed as an enemy.

"I don't know her enough to dislike her," Bella said simply.

Leaning back in his seat, Edward mused as to what he was about to tell Bella. On the one hand, he knew Rosalie would have a fit if she knew. On the other hand, one of his long running frustrations in life was how the rest of the world viewed his sister. Oh, he knew that a lot of it was not only her fault but also her own doing. The persona she had unwittingly crafted during a number of dark years that she'd been going down a dangerous path was the persona that had a popular day-time talk show. It was that persona that many men lusted after.

But, along with being that diva, Rosalie was also many good things. She was steadfast and loyal to her family. Edward knew a lot of her problem with Bella was that she was dead certain she was going to end up hurting him.

"My mom does huge restoration projects, did you know that?" he began finally.

"No."

"Yeah. She has an eye for both design and historical architecture. She is actually very sought after by a lot of cities, even now. They want her to head up restoration of their historic buildings and the like," he explained, smiling fondly because he was proud of his mother. He was proud of both of his parents. "Of course my father has just about every university vying for his attention. He could make a fortune on lecture tours if he wanted."

Bella waited, wondering where he was going with this. She was enjoying the way he spoke about his parents. She tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowing unconsciously when his lips tugged down as he continued. "Between my mom and my dad – we moved a lot. Emmett was born in Tennessee for instance, and Rose and I were born in Chicago. We actually lived the longest in Mississippi – the longest being about 5 years.

"Rose and I were ten when we moved there. And that's where she met Alice. We moved to New York when we were 15. Breaking up that friendship was the worst I'd ever seen Rosalie. She was downright depressed and screamed at Mom and Dad for...probably the better part of a year," Edward continued, frowning.

Bella could sympathize with that notion. She'd moved to Forks when she was 17 and, while it hadn't been easy, it had been her choice. Being ripped away from friends at a high school age - well, she could understand why Rosalie had been upset.

"When Rosalie showed interest in modeling, Mom and Dad gave in rather quickly. It had been a long time since she'd been interested in anything. They didn't want her to be in that world - she was so young - but they wanted her to be happy again.

"They were supportive of her. They tried to protect her. We even moved out here to follow her career." He trailed off and then looked back to Bella, his eyes heavy with sadness.

She knew that expression. He'd watched someone he loved go through a bad period and had been completely unable to do anything about it, but it was over now. It was the same expression she saw on herself when she thought about everything that had happened with Charlie. "She found her way back though." There hadn't been any horrible tabloid stories about Rosalie for years. All the pictures of her high as a kite or on impressive drinking binges were a thing of the distant past.

Edward nodded. "With no small amount of help from Alice, she found her way back, but that's not my story to tell."

"Thank you," Bella said quietly.

"For what?"

"Trusting me with that story. It's getting harder and harder to trust anyone in the world we live in, in general. In this city, it's nearly impossible. I didn't want to be one of those people who could capitalize personally on another's worst day. I mean - we've all done things we regret."

He tilted his head again, that curious look passing over his face - like he was trying to figure her out or read her mind. She was surprised that she wasn't uncomfortable. "Why do you work on a show that make other people's lives their business?" he asked, his voice not accusatory at all.

"It's not always easy," Bella admitted. "But you know, the show is mostly about positive things - promoting causes, movies..." she trailed off. "I don't know. Every job has its bad day."

The mood that had fallen between them was warm - like they'd been friends forever. Edward stood then, gathering their plates and going to the sink. They had a brief, good-natured fight over who was supposed to do the dishes - especially when he saw the small pile she'd let accumulate. Finally, they compromised. Edward washed and she could dry and put away.

"Do you ever use your job to pick up girls?" Bella asked, interrupting another easy silence between them.

Edward cocked an eyebrow, looking at her sideways as he washed. "How would I do that? My job isn't that glamorous."

"You know." When he continued to watch her questioningly she rolled her eyes. "Come on. Tell me you've never pulled some strings to get into a five star restaurant or gotten a chef who owed you a favor to make some elaborate, fantastic dinner."

He chuckled then, rinsing a plate under the warm water. "That's a little cliché, isn't it?"

"I hear girls are suckers for things like that," Bella quipped back.

"Well, I haven't ever done anything like that." He paused, considering, but in the end decided to try the total honesty card. "I have pulled a move inspired by My Best Friend's Wedding, though."

Bella's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and Edward was surprised by the sudden impulse he felt to touch the delicate V where they came together. "You mean the Julia Roberts movie?"

"Mmm," he assented. Impulsively, he reached over and took her hand before she could pick up another dish. Struck by the way he looked at her from underneath long eyelashes, Bella didn't pull her hand away. He turned toward her, holding his hand palm up to let hers rest palm down. He looked her right in the eye and her breath caught. "It's hard to explain the way I feel about you. I've never been good with words. I'm better with food."

Bella's laugh was breathier than she wanted it to be as she realized where he was going with this. "Oh, this is the part where you call them jell-o, right?" she stumbled.

He dipped slightly, his grin turning up and making her heart beat out an erratic rhythm. His eyes swept over her, noting her unconscious beauty. Standing this close to a woman, he could usually see a coat of make-up and smell too-heavy perfume. Standing this close to Bella he saw a sprinkle of light freckles over flawless skin. She was dressed plainly, her hair up in a sleek ponytail like he'd seen it the time he stopped by her work, yet she was somehow more alluring than any of his dates ever had been - dressed in short skirts and revealing tops. His eyes came back up hers, noting that they were dilated - dark around the edges and warm caramel in the center. "You are most definitely not jell-o," he murmured, wondering if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

As if she could read his thoughts, Bella turned away. Her hand slipped off of his and she grabbed for the nearest dish, putting it away in a high cupboard and trying not to notice her hands were shaking. This wasn't how this day was supposed to go. She'd been prepared for his judgment. She'd been prepared for his anger and accusation. She'd hoped for his understanding and maybe for them to come to trust each other, just a little bit - just enough that she would stop imagining a lifetime of arguments.

She wasn't prepared for the spiraling emotions in her. Her second trimester had brought with it a whole new brand of hormones. She almost felt like a teenager again - constantly aware of her sexuality. All of her intimate parts were devastatingly sensitive. Her thoughts often meandered to quick visions - naked, slick skin, the heady scent of a man in heat, the taste of salty skin and the feel of being filled.

This, though, was different. The ache was familiar - a need to be touched. What was different was the want that was tinged around the edges with need. This need she could name. Even as she closed her eyes tightly it screamed inside her. Edward. Edward. Edward. She'd been fighting his presence practically since the moment she'd laid eyes on him. It was as if the dam she'd put up between them had given away, and now he flooded her senses.

Churning water was violent and chaotic. Confusing.

Bella fought to restore order to her suddenly muddled thoughts, but before she could find any sort of coherency in them, he was just there. She'd never truly understood the meaning of the term bubble-space before that moment. When he stepped up behind her, she could perceptively feel the air change in a three foot circumference around her. Her kitchen was light and open, yet she felt as if she was in a very tiny closet space with him. Maybe it was the heightened sense of smell that pregnancy brought, but she could swear his essence wafted around her - permeating the room with delicious fragrance.

Tension made her body coil painfully tightly. She wasn't sure if she wanted to bolt or turn and bring him up against her. Neither option made sense, but she couldn't think past them either. Confused and titillated - that's what she felt. Scared and thrilled. She'd skydived once and remembered the feeling of complete and utter terror mixing with exhilaration as she looked at the world, so far below, and tensed for the jump - not at all certain this was a good thing to do.

His shuddering breath matched hers, like their thoughts were in sync.

Then his right hand brushed lightly against her hip.

Her body hummed, reverberated internally, but she was frozen. She remembered - from some long ago science class - a heat pack. There was a silver disk in the middle of this primordial looking ooze. When you bent the disk, it would set off a reaction in the ooze that made atoms bounce off one another. The previously cool pack would grow hot in your hands, the inside ooze turning a vibrant shade of purple in seconds.

That was what she felt: superheated skin, turbulent insides.

He stepped closer so that his shirt brushed hers, and he waited. Her shoulders rose and fell with the quick, staccato breaths she was taking, but her head tilted - an offering. Almost as though they were synchronized, his head dipped, accepting her invitation. He ran his nose along the line of her neck and shoulders, breathing her in. His hands, both hands now, snaked around from the sides of her hips to her front.

Bella's back went rigid and her breath wheezed in her throat.

The way his hands were pressed against her, outside her shirt, he could undoubtedly feel the hardness of her slightly distended belly. It was easy to miss with just eyes, concealed as it was with clothes that hung the right way, but he could undoubtedly feel the difference.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, waiting for the other's reaction. Then Edward's hands shifted. He kept his thumbs and the heel of his palms against the swell while his long fingers angled downward. They brushed against the hem of her shirt and again he waited, giving her the chance to stop this, she supposed.

But she didn't. She couldn't.

His fingers flexed inward, bringing fabric up with them. He flattened out his hand, the pads of his fingers, and then his palm, shaping themselves to the contours of her belly. Side by side, his large hands completely cupped the bump.

Again, the atmosphere that surrounded them changed. There was something primal about the pull in them now, something ancient. Like they were both marked territory. Her hands, light and soft, came up to rest on his - her arms lining up with his arms. The emotion that flowed inside their skin had no words. She carried him inside her. She was already his. Beneath their hands was a connection that made Edward need to protect her, possess her. It was a hunger that only she could fill - a right as ancient as the world was old.

Who knew which one of them moved first. Bella turned her head to the side even as he lifted his lips from her shoulder to her mouth. Their lips were gentle but insistent with no sign of hesitation. Then, as the thoughts they'd both pushed to the back of their minds threatened to overwhelm their need for each other, their mouths moved faster, harder. It was as if they were trying to outrun their thoughts, keeping themselves in the sweet, heated moment where they weren't thinking, only feeling.

The way his fingers reverently stroked her belly as they kissed made her feel beautiful. Just days previous she'd lain nude in her bed, running her fingers over her new curves. Her breasts were fuller, much more defined as her hands cupped them. Her skin was supple until she reached the new bulge above her abdomen. There her skin was taught - hard and smooth. Alone in her bed she had wondered over the changes in her body. Feeling Edward's fingers, she shared that awe and almost painful beauty with him. She felt connected. In sync.

She reached one hand back, sliding it along his stubble covered chin, running a thumb over his ear as she threaded the rest of her fingers into his hair. Bella combed her fingers through his hair and he hummed his contentment against her lips, his tongue beginning to lap gently against hers.

It was inevitable that their thoughts, huffy at being ignored, intruded with a vengeance. Neither of them protested as their kiss broke. Edward leaned his cheek against the side of her hair, closing his eyes tightly to rein in his spiraling emotions. Bella stroked the hair at the back of his neck, soothing them both the way one pet a cat. Her heart was beating too fast and confusion clouded her mind.

They couldn't know it but they were both thinking the same question with no clear answer: What are we doing?

He sighed, his breath hot against her shoulder. His lips still touched the skin of her neck, as if he couldn't quite stand to be away from her yet. "I should go," he said, not moving.

"Mmm," Bella murmured in vague agreement. She didn't let go of him.

Edward sighed again and kissed her neck, letting his eyes flutter open. Outside her kitchen window he could see the skyline of Los Angeles. It seemed odd - like he was expecting to be in some alternate dimension where thoughts came in half-formed, nonsensical sentences. He knew he needed to be away from her, away from whatever spell had come over them, so he could think clearly again. This was important, he sensed.

It took all of his willpower to step away from her. They made their way to the door in an almost eerie silence. He turned to say goodbye and ended up pulling her against him for another kiss instead. His hands fit her hips exactly, and her hands seemed to have been molded where they were on his upper back.

They parted again, both staring at each other with wide eyes. They didn't know what to say. There was comfort, though, in that the confusion and want and fear they felt, they saw reflected in each others eyes. Edward laughed nervously and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you soon," he promised, and left quickly.

Turning back into the house, Bella sat down heavily on the couch, her hands going to her suddenly clammy face. Then she had to laugh at the surreality of it all.

She'd just had a completely unplanned make-out session with the other half of the pregnancy she'd completely planned. She closed her eyes, losing herself briefly in the sensation of her memories - his lips on hers, his hair soft between her fingers, his body pressed against her back and his hands finding and feeling her baby through her skin.

She'd never felt this way. So many times she'd gone out on dates, hoping and wishing for a good-night kiss, the anticipation of touching adding a sort of buzz to the evening. When she'd invited Edward here, she'd never even thought about kissing him, but now that she had her body was alive - absolutely aware.

And damn if she didn't want to kiss him again.

Worry tugged at her insistently, pushing away the giddy, wanting feeling and demanding attention. They shouldn't have done that…right?

Bella's eyes flitted around the room, landing randomly on a poster of Gone With The Wind.

"I won't think about that now," she quoted, laying down across the couch and running her fingers over her stomach the way he had. "I'll think about it tomorrow."

A/N: So…that happened. Anyway. I apologize again for the delay in updating and the fact that I haven't responded to my reviews. Real life is SERIOUSLY trying to sap my mojo completely. I'm resisting! Anyway. Your reviews spark my mojo and make me smile. So thank you. Really. I flove you all.

Don't you think that pregnant bodies are gorgeous?