Author's Note: You won't find two better Beta's than Jennrosee and blahblahblah.

Disclaimer: I wonder what Edward looks like in S. Meyer's head.

EPOV

I roll over and stretch my arms up over my head. My hands collide with something solid above me.

What the fuck?

My eyes fly open and I take in my surroundings. Purple sheets, strange pictures, ceiling fan. I don't have a ceiling fan. I chuckle to myself when I realize where I am. I'm in Bella's room. Wow, I actually slept in a girl's bed - Bella's bed - all night. That's a first.

I let the memory of last night replay in my mind; her voice, her face, even the way she smelled, fresh and clean, like her soap from the shower. I inhale deeply, hoping some of her scent lingers in the air around me, but sadly, I don't pick up anything but the smell of clean linens.

I turn my head toward her empty pillow. I know Bella likely left an hour ago for school. Still, it's sad to face the reality of the vacant space next to me. I idly wonder if this is how any of my one-night stands felt when they woke in the morning to find me gone.

Doubt it. Last night was the furthest thing from a random hook-up. Last night meant something. And though we didn't say it out loud, I knew without a doubt that we both feel the same way.

Something flutters on the bed, grabbing my attention. A small piece of yellow paper slides off Bella's pillow and comes to rest on the mattress beside me. I snatch it quickly, prop myself up on my elbow, and read the note twice.

Good morning,

I won't be home until very late, but I will be thinking of you all day.

~ B

I flop back onto the pillow, grinning like an idiot, before finally rolling out of bed. After locating my clothes, which are haphazardly scattered around the floor, I creep toward the door. I open it a crack and listen for any sounds that someone might be downstairs. Bella's doorway is visible from the first floor, and the last thing I need is for my brother to catch me sneaking back to my room while he's making his breakfast. Or Carlisle returning home from work – God forbid. I'd be packing my bags for military school before lunch if he were to witness my morning after walk of shame.

When I'm certain the coast is clear, I make my way quietly across the hall. I grab a quick shower and dress for school, tucking Bella's note into the front pocket of my jeans.

School drags on endlessly and more than once, I wonder if today might possibly be the longest day of my life. Even A.P. Biology, the one class I find remotely challenging, can't hold my attention today. I stumble through lectures and instructions, not hearing a word any of my teachers say. My mind continues to wander back to last night.

This is pathetic. I need to get my head out of the clouds.

After school, Jazz tries to drag me with him to the music store so he can hang with Alice, but I decide to head home. The last thing I need is to watch him openly flaunt his girl when I have to hide mine away.

At home I'm completely worthless. I try to read, watch TV, play my guitar, I even finish my homework in record time, but nothing holds my attention. I pace around the house for hours, wandering aimlessly from room to room, even Bella's dance studio. Just being in there helps me feel closer to her.

I return to my room as the sun begins to set and darkness blankets the windows. The hours continue to pass at an agonizing pace. Finally, the clink of dishes and sounds of cabinets opening and closing break the silence, a sign that someone is in the kitchen. Unfortunately, I can tell by the sheer force with which the pantry door slams shut that it isn't her. Fucking Emmett.

I listen as Emmett moves around nosily in the kitchen, and I vacillate for a moment if I should join him or not. When Bella does come home, she'll likely remain downstairs with him, sticking to their nightly dinner and TV ritual. Would it draw too much attention to our secret relationship if I were to start showing an interest in mindless primetime sitcoms?

Fuck it; it's just Emmett. He isn't observant enough, and I've been away from her for far too long.

I bound down the stairs, trying to keep my stride as composed as possible, while casting nervous glances at the front door for any sign of her arrival.

"Hey, bro, what's up?" Emmett greets me as I enter the kitchen.

I sit on one of the barstools and watch as he digs through the drawer where the silverware is kept. The microwave beeps behind him, and he turns to retrieve the dish from inside. He pulls a baking pan, containing the remaining half of a lasagna, from the microwave and tests the food's temperature by sticking one mammoth finger into the center. Apparently it's not hot enough, and Emmett licks his finger clean as he returns the plate to heat some more.

He turns back around and catches me watching him. "There's a bunch of frozen dinners in the freezer if you want some food." He gestures to the refrigerator with his fork.

"Thanks." I have to tread carefully. The last thing I want to do is clue him in that anything is going on. "You're not gonna eat with Bella?"

"Nah, she's got some tryout or something this week, so she froze a bunch of leftovers for me. Help yourself; there's a ton."

"That's ok. I'm not really hungry," I say, mindlessly fiddling with a discarded water bottle cap on the counter.

"Suit yourself."

The microwave beeps again and he retrieves the steaming food. I can't deny that it smells incredible. Emmett walks around the bar, shoveling a forkful of red pasta into his mouth as he sits on the stool next to me. "Can't even watch TV," he mumbles with a full mouth.

I turn to look at him. "Why not?"

"Because we are TIVO-ing our shows and I promised I wouldn't watch them without her," he grumbles. "Can't believe I gotta wait a whole week to find out what happened on Grey's."

I throw my head back, laughing out loud.

"Screw you. She loves that damn show. It sucks you in. Hey, what's she trying out for anyway?"

"Music video," I respond nonchalantly, spinning the bottle top between my fingers.

"No shit? That's pretty cool."

"Yeah, it's for some new band out of Canada, their first single. Sounds like it would be huge for her career if she gets the job. Seems like the choreography is pretty intense though."

"Huh. That's cool. How do you know all this anyway?"

Shit. The bottle top spins off the counter and bounces on the wood floor below. I need to watch my mouth before I give too much away. "Ah… Jacob told me," I confess, bending down to retrieve my makeshift toy.

"Oh, yeah, Jake's pretty cool," Emmett says, shoving another enormous bite into his mouth.

"Yeah."

We are silent for a several minutes as Emmett finishes his dinner. I want to ask him exactly what time Bella usually gets home, but I figure I've already slipped up enough. Instead, I decide to divert the conversation off of me – us – entirely.

"Esme called last night. She wanted to talk to you."

Emmett goes completely still. "What did you tell her?"

"That you were asleep in your room."

He lets out a deep breath and is visibly relieved. "Thanks, bro, I owe you one."

"No problem, but you need to call her. She's gonna be gone another week. They're adding more stops to her book tour."

I can see Emmett calculating what this means. I have already done the math myself. With Esme gone another week, and Carlisle still on night rotation at the hospital, we both have free reign to spend as much time with our girls as we want.

"I heard Rose's parents are out of town. When are they coming back?" I ask.

"Not till this weekend," he says with an excited grin.

"Just be careful," I warn. "Esme is getting a bit worried about leaving us kids unsupervised so much. I have a feeling she's going to persuade Carlisle to get back on day shift." Because she suspects something is going on between me and Bella.

"Yeah, ok. Guess I should go call her." Emmett dumps his dirty plate in the sink and heads down to his room.

~o0o~

I'm getting more anxious by the hour. It's well after 11 p.m., and Bella isn't home yet. I think about calling her, but realize I don't have her number, and she doesn't have mine. That doesn't help quell my overactive imagination.

She could have a flat tire, or have gotten lost, or run into a gang of thugs in a dark alley. The situations in my head become more and more ominous as the minutes tick by.

I realize I'm being ridiculous. No doubt she's with Jacob. I wonder if he knows our "you hurt her, I'll kill you" arrangement goes both ways.

I retreat to my room, hoping to drown my apprehension with my headphones. Lying on my bed, I close my eyes and turn the music up as loud as I can tolerate while my mind drifts to thoughts of her.

My eyes open with a start, but the room is now pitch-black. Did I fall asleep?

Completely disoriented, I twist my head to the side and find my iPod resting on the night stand, my headphones neatly coiled around it. The clock blazes 2:37 a.m. in blinding, red numbers. I try to sit up, but a weight on my chest holds me down. Looking down, I find beautiful chestnut curls scattered across my chest, and an arm wrapped securely around my waist.

"Mmm," she mumbles in her sleep.

I brush her hair away from her face and kiss her head gently. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her closer before closing my eyes and falling back to sleep.

Tuesday is an exact repeat of the day before. Bella is gone when I wake up, but there is no note this time. I fumble through my day, trying to pass the time as best I can while she's gone. I help myself to some of Emmett's frozen leftovers, eating dinner alone at the dining room table. As I finish loading my dirty plate into the dishwasher, I hear the front door open. Figuring it's just Emmett, I don't even bother to look up. I wasn't expecting to hear a sweet voice from the other side of the room.

"Hi," Bella says, dropping her gym bag sluggishly to the ground at her feet.

"Hi!" I exclaim. I don't even attempt to conceal my excitement as I bound across the room, sweeping her up in my arms. "What are you doing home so early?"

"Um, I missed you?" she says sheepishly. It sounds more like a question than an answer, and I eye her critically.

"Ok, ok, Jake says I look like I need more rest than practice for tomorrow."

I pull back slightly and look at her - really look. Jacob's right. She looks completely exhausted; her worn out body appears thin and frail.

"I wish I'd known you'd be home early. I would have waited for you to eat."

"That's ok. I'm not really hungry anyway."

"Bella, you need to eat something. It will make you feel better, give you some energy." I release my grip on her waist, take both of her hands, and pull her toward the kitchen. "Come on, I'll make you anything you want: steak, pizza, French fries - I won't tell Jacob."

Bella giggles. "Oh so you cook now?" she teases.

"Well, no, but I'm awesome at ordering pizza… or drive thru."

"Drive thru, huh?" She thinks for a moment. "How are you with chocolate milkshakes?"

I smile. "Let me get my keys."

I jog toward the stairs. My foot barely touching the bottom step when Bella calls out, "Wait!"

Startled by her outburst, I spin around. "What? What's wrong?" Bella walks toward me slowly with a mischievous smirk. She passes me, climbing up to the second step, which brings her face level with mine. She wraps her hands around my neck and leans forward, kissing me sweetly. I try to kiss her back, but the stupid smile on my face prevents me from closing my mouth around hers. I quickly reign in my amusement and give her a proper hello.

"Better?" I ask when we finally break apart.

She smiles. "Better."

Twenty minutes later, we are driving through the dark city streets, sipping on our drinks. Bella doesn't want to go back home so soon, claiming all she's seen of Seattle is the dance school, a few restaurants, and our house. So we drive around aimlessly while I point out various tourist attractions and landmarks, promising to bring her back in the daylight.

"Edward Cullen, are you asking me out on a date?" she teases.

"Would you say yes?" I hedge.

She shrugs, pretending to be disinterested. "I'd have to think about it, check my calendar, ya know. Make sure I don't have anything better to do."

"Ouch."

She smiles and turns to gaze out the window.

"Bella, what time did you get home last night?"

"Just before one o'clock. Jake arranged for us to stay late in the rehearsal studio, and we got so engrossed in practice that we lost track of time. Why? I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, no. I just… when it started getting late, I got anxious, not knowing where you were. I wanted to call you but… I don't have your number."

Bella doesn't respond at first, and I tense, keeping my eyes focused on the road. Surely it wasn't unreasonable for me to ask for her number, but why am I suddenly so nervous? I glance over at Bella and the sly smile on her face instantly puts my fears at ease.

"What?" I ask, coyly.

Bella shakes her head. "Nothing," she says. "You are so adorable," she adds so quietly I almost don't hear her.

"Here," she says, pulling her phone from her pocket, "give me your number and I'll send you a text. Then we'll both have each others."

I repeat my number as she types. A second later, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

We drive around for another thirty minutes or so before finally heading home. As soon as we arrive at the house, Bella heads upstairs to take a shower and change out of her workout clothes. I lock up the house, turn off the lights downstairs, and make my way to my room. I quickly change out of my jeans and into some comfortable pajama pants. I retrieve my phone from my pocket, intending to plug it in to recharge overnight, when I notice the missed text from Bella.

Of course I would say yes. Always. ~ B

I try not to entertain the idea that her words could have a deeper meaning while simultaneously wondering when I became such a sentimental pussy.

She's just talking about going on a date, Cullen, not getting married.

I sit on the edge of my bed and consider how to respond for a moment before I hit reply.

You will always be the most beautiful thing in my world. ~ E

I hear the water turn off in the bathroom and a few minutes later the door to Bella's room opens and closes. I wait. Would she come to my room again? Should I go to hers? Or does she just want to be left alone? I know she needs her rest, so I should probably let her be. I stand and walk toward my desk, but before I can plug my phone in, it buzzes in my hand.

Balcony ~ B

It takes me half a second to register what she means before I spin around and dart out the balcony doors, tossing my forgotten phone on the bed.

I can't see her at first, my eyes needing time to adjust to the sudden shift into darkness. Finally, I make out her form, lying on one of the long deck chairs in the center of the balcony. As I approach, she scoots forward, making room for me to slide in behind her. She nestles her back against my chest and covers us both with the blanket she brought from her room. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her gently on her head; neither of us saying a word.

It's a beautiful, clear night. The lights of the city twinkle in the distance, and a cool breeze blows through the trees. Fall is fast approaching, and soon the air will be icy and cold, too cold for nights outside like this. I absentmindedly wonder if Bella has ever seen snow, but I don't want to break the comfortable silence to ask her.

Slowly, I begin to shift my weight from side to side, swaying Bella with me as I gently rock her in my arms. As I sway, I start humming softly in her ear. At first it's just random notes with no true purpose, but after a few bars, a melody begins to take shape in my head. Bella twists slightly in my arms, resting her head against my shoulder. I continue to hum quietly as her eyes flutter closed. Soon her breathing becomes shallow and slow, and a moment later she's asleep.

I repeat the melody once more, committing it to memory, as I gradually slow my rocking motion until we are once again still. Slowly and cautiously, I slide my body off of the chair, careful not to wake her. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back to her room, placing her gently on her bed and covering her with the blanket we used outside.

"Don't go," she mumbles without opening her eyes.

I walk to the opposite side of the bed and slide under the blanket. Bella rolls onto her side and faces me, her sleepy eyes fluttering open as she smiles timidly. I reach up and brush her hair back from her face, my hand coming to a rest on her cheek. I watch her eyelids grow heavy again and she fights to keep her eyes open.

"Go to sleep, beautiful," I whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."

She smiles again and finally allows fatigue to overtake her.

My body is not used to going to sleep this early, so I lie awake next to her for hours. Had I been in any other place, at any other time, I would have found this monumentally frustrating. But there is no place in the world I would rather be right now. I entertain myself by watching Bella's restless face while she sleeps. Every now and then her forehead creases, as if in confusion, while her eyes move rapidly back and forth under her lids. I try to imagine what she could be seeing in her dreams to make her expression so troubled.

I continue to lazily stroke her cheek with my thumb, but fearing my constant movement is what's disturbing her, I reluctantly remove my hand. I almost laugh out loud when her eyebrows furrow and the corners of her lips turn down. Reaching down, I gently, gently, lift her tiny hand from where it lays on the bed between us. Twisting her palm toward me, I place her hand on my chest, directly over my heart, and hold it against me. Her face relaxes instantly.

"Mmmmm," she moans. The sound is warm and contented. "My Edward," she whispers.

I chuckle silently. Bella talks in her sleep.

I roll onto my back, smoothly holding Bella's hand in place. She lifts her head and brings it to rest on my chest as she snuggles in closer.

"My Bella," I repeat quietly. "You'll always be my Bella."

~o0o~

This is torture.

I pace back and forth across the balcony, holding my phone in my hand, and tap it anxiously against my leg. I sent Bella a text over an hour ago wishing her luck during her audition. I got nothing back. No response.

I'm a nervous wreck, though I can't figure out why; I'm not the one auditioning right now. I have felt this way all day; anxious, edgy, tense, but now that the hour is upon me – well, her – I'm completely panicked.

How long do these things take? Wouldn't she have called by now?

I wander back inside my room and check the clock on my nightstand for the thousandth time. I run my hand through my hair, which I'm sure looks like a hurricane hit it by now after the havoc I've wreaked on my scalp today.

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming reverberates through the house. "Edward!" she yells.

I run into the hall to see Bella sprinting up the stairs toward me. She leaps into my open arms, almost knocking me down in her excitement.

"Edward! I did it! I got the job! Can you believe it?"

"Bella, that's awesome! I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it. You're amazing."

"That's what I've been trying to tell her." I see Jacob then, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, watching our little reunion with his arms folded across his chest and Bella's gym bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Bells?" Emmett calls from downstairs. "You OK?" He must have heard her thunderous entrance all the way in his room.

"Emmy!" Bella releases me and dashes toward the sound of his voice.

"Emmy?" Jacob silently mouths to me. I just shrug, and we follow a very excited Bella down the stairs.

"Emmy! I got the job!" she exclaims.

"No shit? That's awesome." He sweeps her up into a huge bear hug, lifting her a good two feet off the ground.

"Hey, we should celebrate!" Emmett says as he drops Bella back on her feet. He turns and walks to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a large bottle of tequila with one hand and the margarita mix in the other.

"Oooooohh, no you don't!" Jacob protests. "This isn't over yet. She's only got two days to perfect the changes they made tonight, and she can't do that with a hangover. The celebration will have to wait until this weekend."

"Damn, coach!" Emmett grumbles, placing the bottles back inside the cabinet. "Is he always this strict?"

"Yes," Bella and I answer in unison.

"Hardy har har," Jacob deadpans. "You'll thank me for this when you're rich and famous."

Bella skips over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I appreciate you, Jake. You're my best friend. I know I couldn't have done this without you."

Jacob rolls his eyes and smiles down at her. "I know, I know. You love me. You can't live without me. You think I'm sorta beautiful."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Bella giggles.

"Alright, alright. YOU! Off to bed. We have a very busy day tomorrow, and I can't have you all tired and sloppy."

"Yes sir!" Bella steps back and gives a quick military style salute before turning toward the stairs.

Before she can take a step, Jacob grabs her arm and she turns back to face him. "Hey, I'm really proud of you," he says softly. "You did great today. You deserve this." Bella launches herself into his arms and hugs him tightly.

"Thank you, Jake," she whispers.

"OK, this is getting way too Lifetime Movie for me," Emmett groans. "I'm outta here," he calls over his shoulder as he retreats to his room.

"Yeah, I'm going too," Jake says with a sigh. He lifts Bella's gym bag from his shoulder, but instead of placing it in her outstretched hand, he passes it to me. I take the bag and pull the strap over my head and across my chest before Bella can protest. "I'll pick you up in the morning for school, OK?"

"K," Bella agrees.

She follows Jacob to the front door to say goodbye and returns a minute later. She walks directly to me, and I place both hands on each side of her face, pulling her lips to mine.

"Hi," I whisper, when we finally break apart. I lower my hands to her waist and hold her body against mine.

"Hey yourself," she says happily.

"Did you have dinner?"

Bella pulls away from my grasp and takes my hands, tugging me toward the stairs. "I just wanna go upstairs."

"Bella?" My tone is more of a warning than a question.

She sighs, defeated. "No, I haven't eaten."

"Well neither have I. I've been too nervous to eat and now I'm starving," I confess, pulling her in the opposite direction toward the kitchen. I drop her gym bag next to the bar and pull out the stool for her to sit down. I walk around to the other side of the counter and begin pulling plates, forks, knives, and glasses from the cabinets.

"You were nervous?" she says with a laugh, perching on the seat and leaning on her elbows against the counter.

"Sure. I didn't know how it was going. I've probably paced a mile on the balcony tonight. Didn't you get my text?"

"No." Bella leans down and retrieves her phone from the front pocket of her gym bag. She opens the phone and goes through the motions of retrieving her messages. Finally, a slow smile spreads across her lips.

"You are so adorable," she murmurs, reading my message.

"That's the second time you've called me that," I chastise. "I am not adorable. I am very manly and tough."

Bella sets her lips in a hard line, trying not to laugh.

"Now, me hunt for food," I declare in my best caveman voice as I open the refrigerator door. "Let's see… we've got chicken-something and… something that looks like pasta… and a casserole…" I ramble off the contents of the fridge that Bella most likely stocked herself.

"That casserole takes an hour to bake, and I don't feel like eating pasta tonight," Bella responds from her seat.

"Chicken-something it is," I announce, pulling the container from the fridge. I divide the contents on the plates, giving a larger portion to myself, and set Bella's in the microwave to heat first.

"So, tell me about it. The audition, I mean."

I busy myself with serving our dinner while Bella recalls the entire event, describing in detail the eight other girls she beat out for the job. She got to meet the video producers, the director and even the lead singer from the band. That would have been the highlight of my night, had I been there, but Bella is more excited by her introduction to the lead choreographer – Bree Tanger? Tanner? – I forget the name as soon as she says it. Apparently this Bree is someone important in the dance community.

Naturally Bella asks about my day, and I gloss over mundane details of school as she pushes the last few bites of her dinner around on her plate. When I finish eating, she reaches for my empty plate.

"What are you doing?"

"Sorry, were you planning on licking the plate clean?" she asks sarcastically, waving the empty plate in the air.

"No, but I was going to do that," I state firmly, walking around the bar to stand next to her at the sink.

"What happened to 'you cook, I clean'?" she asks, reminding me of my previous decree.

"Well, technically, I didn't cook. I reheated."

Bella rolls her eyes and continues to rinse the plates in the sink. "Here," she says, handing me the wet dish, "we can do it together. Alright, partner?"

"Alright." I take the plate from her and load it into the dishwasher. We continue that way, working side by side, until the kitchen is once again spotless.

"I'm going to go take a shower," Bella announces. "Meet me on the balcony in twenty?"

"Sure. I'm gonna lock up down here then I'll be up."

With a quick kiss on my cheek, Bella scoops up her gym bag and bounces up the stairs. As soon as she disappears out of sight, I rush to the laundry room to raid the utility closet.

BPOV

I stand under the warm spray with my eyes closed, allowing the water to wash away all the stress and tension that built up during the day. The adrenaline from landing the audition is long gone, and I'm already fighting to keep myself from getting worked up about the upcoming video shoot.

Tomorrow, worry about it tomorrow.

I switch off the faucets and squeeze as much water from my thick hair as possible before stepping out onto the cold tile floor. Grabbing a towel from the rack, I begin rubbing it against my wet curls, shaking them violently, as I watch my reflection in the foggy mirror. I slowly lift the towel, running across the length of the glass, wiping away the steam. I appraise the naked body reflected in the mirror.

Of course, my wet hair is limp and lifeless right now, but I can't deny the thick curls are one of my best features. The circles under my eyes seem more noticeable, but that's probably just me being over-critical. I ghost my fingers over my breasts. Granted, I'm larger than many of the girls in my dance class, but someone like me would never be gracing the pages of a Victoria Secret's catalog. Under the swell of my chest, my ribs poke out slightly and I turn to my side, evaluating my flat stomach. My eyes trail further down to my – nether regions. I began waxing that part of my anatomy at a very early age. I've lived ninety percent of my life in a leotard and it just comes with the territory.

I turn back to face the mirror full on. I never considered myself particularly beautiful, but I guess I'm not too bad to look at either. I smirk. Edward seems to think so.

I grab the hair dyer out of the drawer, attacking my damp hair with the highest setting. Dragging my curls through a fat, round brush, I focus the heat on one area at a time. After several passes, the waves surrender, and my hair hangs flat as a board. Straightening my hair like this actually highlights just how long it is, and the shiny tresses almost touch my waist.

I put the dryer away and continue to brush through my smooth hair, enjoying the feel of it as it tickles my bare back. Reaching behind my neck, I divide half of my hair over each shoulder, pulling each section around to the front and draping it so that the strands cover each breast like a curtain. Ok I admit it; I look freaking hot like this. I'd love to sneak across to Edward's room just like this and shock the hell out of him. But, unfortunately, I'm not that brave.

I grab my shirt, panties and pajama pants from the counter, and dress quickly. I told Edward I'd meet him in twenty minutes, but I'm sure my hair makeover has made me late. Hanging up my wet towel, I dash across the hall to my room, tying the drawstring of my pajama pants as I dart around my bed and out the balcony doors.

I freeze.

White candles, in various shapes and sizes, flicker from every available surface. I slowly scan the space, taking in the warm glow of the flames as they glimmer and sparkle in the breeze. Small tea-light candles line the ground along the railing, evenly spaced between every fifth or sixth iron rung. A few larger votives are scattered on various chairs and tables around the entire space. I inhale, and the faint scent of vanilla and lilac fills the air. Next to the lounge chair – our chair – are several clusters of ivory and white pillar candles in an assortment of shapes and heights.

I notice Edward then, sitting on the end of the lounge chair, watching my reaction to the scene before me. Apparently he likes what he sees, and a cunning smile slowly spreads across his lips. He looks down at the candle in his left hand, flicking a cigarette lighter to life and lighting the wick. He places the burning candle down in the collection of pillars closest to his feet before rising from the chair.

I'm still frozen in place, my eyes focused on the beautiful man strolling toward me. Edward stops directly in front of me and reaches for my hand, still holding tight to the open door beside me. He removes my hand and, as he shuts the door behind me, he places my palm against his chest, directly over his heart, and covers my hand with his. Something about the gesture feels oddly familiar, but I'm too dazed by my surroundings to fully process the thought.

"Edward, this is – it's beautiful," I breathe.

"No, love, you are beautiful." He reaches up with his free hand and runs his fingers through my straight hair, his eyes following the motion. "I like it," he says as his eyes return to mine.

Edward takes a step back, nodding his head in the direction of the lounge chair. He still holds my hand firmly against his chest, and I allow him to pull me along with him as he walks backward. Once we reach the chair, Edward sits down and releases my hand, only to grab my hips and pull me into his lap.

"Turn around," he murmurs into my ear, and I obey.

Edward leans back against the top of the chair, and I press my back against his chest. It's the same position we were in last night when he rocked me to sleep in his arms. He leans down and retrieves a blanket from beside the chair, draping it over both of us.

As he settles back into the chair, Edward gathers my hair together, as if he's about to pull it into a ponytail and lays it gently over my left shoulder, exposing my neck. I feel his hands caress my shoulders and he begins to knead and rub my tense muscles.

"Mmm," I purr as my eyes roll back into my head.

After a moment, I feel Edward's lips brush against my ear, and he begins to trail kisses gently down the side of my neck. I lean my head to the side, giving him as much access as possible. His hands begin moving too, sliding down my shoulders, skimming the top of my arms, not stopping until he reaches my elbows. He loops his hand under my arms then and slides his hands around my waist.

It isn't long before his hands make their way under my shirt and his fingers dance across my stomach. His hands travel upward, and Edward lets out a low growl as he realizes I'm not wearing a bra. He massages my breasts, one in each hand, and I can't help the moan of pleasure that escapes my lips.

My hands aren't still either, rubbing up and down his thighs on either side of me. When Edward begins to assault the sensitive peaks of my nipples, I throw one arm behind his head and tangle my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. That only seems to encourage him – thank God – and one hand slips from my breast and begins a glorious trip down my torso.

Edward doesn't pause when his hand meets the waistline of my sleep pants, and he skillfully unties the tiny bow, allowing the fabric to go slack around my hips. He dips his hand inside and presses on, colliding with the small pulsing bud between my legs without hesitation. All logical thoughts fly out of my head.

"Ugh, yes," I hiss as he begins to rub me in tight, hard circles.

"That feel good, baby?" he mumbles into my neck. My only response is to moan in pleasure.

I keep my eyes closed, concentrating on the intense throbbing between my legs. I give myself over to the sensation and let me knees fall open to the each side. My left arm is still wound tightly around the back of Edward's neck, and I pull his head down toward my shoulder. He responds by kissing, biting, and licking from my neck to the base of my ear.

"Are you gonna give it to me? Or do you want me to beg for it again?" he murmurs in my ear, and I almost lose it at his seductive voice.

"Beg," I command.

"Cum for me, baby. Please."

"You'll have to… do… better than… that," I grumble, fighting to keep myself together for just a little longer.

"Please, baby, give it to me." I bite my lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape. All I can do is shake my head.

"Don't make me take it from you," he snarls, his tone now animalistic and primal.

"Oh God… take it," I command.

In a flash, Edward's other hand slides between my wet folds and he plunges his fingers deep inside me. I cry out as both of his hands attack my hypersensitive core. Edward holds me tightly against his chest as my hips attempt to buck wildly off the chair. I vaguely register his voice as the surge overtakes me.

"Oh, yes. That's it, baby."

I gradually come down, feeling a little lightheaded from the repeated short gasps of air. Edward continues to softly kiss the back of my neck as he slides his hands out of my pants. I don't waste any time. As soon as he's free, I sit forward and spin around, planting my knees on either side of his hips and straddling his lap. I groan as the solid erection in his jeans makes contact with my overly sensitive center.

Both of my hands tangle in his hair. At the same time, he grips my face, pulling my mouth to his. We kiss, hot and sloppy, for a second before I pull back and yank my shirt off over my head. My top is just the beginning, and we quickly undress each other as if our clothes were on fire.

We resume our position in the chair, and Edward wraps the blanket around us before pulling my lips back to his. I rise up on my knees slightly, keeping my mouth on his, and with a few skilled movements of my hips, I easily guide him inside of me. Edward abruptly breaks our kiss by throwing his head back against the chair, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

"Ugh," he growls low in his chest.

"That feel good, baby?" I repeat his previous question, unable to hide the smug tenor in my voice.

I start to rock against him, but Edward grips my hips preventing me from moving. "Wait," he hisses.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Just… give me a second."

I smile and lean forward, leaving open mouth kisses along his jaw. "Are you going give it to me? Or do you want me to beg for it?"

Edwards hold on my hips tightens slightly. "You are evil."

I figure he's had long enough to get himself under control, and I slowly move my hips forward. Edward finally lifts his head from the chair as he runs his fingers up my bare back. Using both hands, he sweeps the long strands of hair back from my face and holds my head in his hands. I grind against him, keeping a steady rhythm with the throbbing nub between my legs.

I sit straight up and Edward's hands fall from my face to my hips. He grips me tightly and begins to guide me up and down his length. This may not have been the best decision, as the new position drives him even deeper inside me. I know I'm not going to be able to last much longer like this.

Apparently, Edward has the same realization, and slides his left hand forward, pressing his thumb against my most sensitive crux. All sense of control shatters, and I crumple forward again, burying my face in his neck as I cry out.

Edward continues to plunge himself inside me, guiding my hips up and down roughly with his hands as he works toward his own release. With only three more thrusts of his hips, I feel him shudder and quake as his climax jolts inside of me.

Completely spent, I slouch against his chest, still connected with him in the most intimate way possible. Our heavy breathing is the only discernable sound in the silent night air. Edward reaches forward, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders from where it had pooled around his thighs, before wrapping his arms around me.

"You OK?" he whispers into my hair.

"Mmm," I reply eloquently.

As soon as I feel my heart rate slow down to a semi-normal rhythm, I extricate myself from our intimate position. Turning around, I reposition myself between Edward's legs, covering our naked bodies with the blanket as I lean back against his chest. I look around the balcony again, taking in the candlelight sparkling in the darkness.

"This is amazing. I can't believe you did all this."

I feel Edward chuckle lightly underneath me as he begins to run his fingers through my hair. Starting at my scalp, he weaves his fingers into my hair, then runs them straight through, letting my locks fall in weightless strands one by one, over and over. For a second, I wonder if he's doing it to lull me to sleep.

"I never realized how long your hair is."

Now it's my turn to chuckle. We stay that way, wrapped under the blanket, Edward stroking my hair, enjoying the quite calm for at least half an hour before I can't fight my deep yawns any longer.

"Alright, bedtime for the ballerina," he says, pushing me to sit up. I hold the blanket across my chest as Edward swings his legs around behind me. He reaches down, retrieves his boxers and jeans from the ground, and proceeds to get dressed.

I groan. "Can't we just sleep out here? It's so pretty."

"Ha, no way. It's getting colder by the hour and you don't put off enough body heat to keep me warm," he says, standing up to button his jeans.

"How chivalrous," I tease.

"Hey!" he protests, waving his arm wide to indicate the grand romantic gesture he has put together.

I snicker, but don't say anything. Edward gathers up his shirt and my clothes from the ground, and drops them into my lap. Before I can process what he's doing, he wraps the blanket around my back like a cocoon and scoops me up along with the clothes. I squeal at the sudden movement, and he carries me like a bride toward his bedroom door.

"Little help?" he says, nodding toward the door handle. I bend forward and twist the knob, opening the door wide enough for him to carry me through.

"Thank you, love."

It isn't lost on me that it's the second time tonight he's used that particular term of endearment.

Edward places me gently on his bed, kissing me sweetly before standing up and walking back toward the balcony door.

"I'll be right back," he says, and disappears outside again.

I dig through the pile of clothes in my lap, pulling on only my underwear and Edward's t-shirt before I settle under the sheets. Edward returns a moment later, switching off the light and plunging the room into complete darkness. I hear him walk around to his side of the bed – his side, we have sides – and listen to the distinct sound of his jeans falling to the floor. Edward climbs under the sheets and, although I can't see him, I feel him roll on his side to face me.

"You still awake?" he whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back.

"I, ah… I want to ask you something," he says, returning to a normal but quiet tone. Judging by the nervous edge to his words, whatever he wants to say can't be good.

"OK."

"Well, I guess we should have talked about this, ya know, before now. But… well, like tonight… and before I… I didn't, you know, use anything. And, you don't seem concerned about that."

I snicker. "Don't worry, I can't get pregnant."

"Oh," he says.

Edward is quiet again. I really should put him out of his misery. Right now he's likely vacillating between asking about the effectiveness of the pill, or if there's something wrong with me.

"I'm on the pill, but there are also other factors that would also make it, well, virtually impossible for me to get pregnant right now."

"Factors?"

"Well, sometimes," I begin, really hating to have to go into all these intimate details, but he does have a right to know. "Sometimes, female - athletes stop, um, being able to… reproduce. And everything that goes along with that."

I silently pray that he understand my roundabout explanation. I really don't want to have to come out and say that I don't get my period anymore. Didn't he notice the lack of tampons in our bathroom? Usually guys baulk at that stuff. "My doctors say it has something to do with how much I exercise and that my percentage of body fat is too low, or something."

"And, that's OK? For you to, ya know, go without… that?"

"Well, no. Not really. My doctors in Phoenix advise me to reduce the amount of exercise I get by fifteen percent and increase my calorie intake by the same level. But they understand that's not really feasible with my career path right now. So I take supplements, and I had a consult with a nutritionist. Everything should go back to normal when I quit dancing, or I guess I should say when I quit training so hard. I don't think I'll every quit dancing."

"Oh."

Part of me is glad this conversation is happening in the pitch black, as I'm sure I'm blushing clear down to my toes. But part of me is curious about Edward's reaction, the one I can't hear in his voice. "Apart from the whole pregnancy thing, there's nothing else, you know, that you should be worried about on my end. Unless you -"

"No, no, God, no! I'm good, clean, er, I mean… you don't have to worry." I hear him bury his face in his pillow, and I giggle.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?" His voice is muffled by his pillow.

"I'm wearing your t-shirt," I admit, blatantly changing the subject.

"I noticed."

"I'm going to keep it. It's my shack prize."

He laughs, lifting his head and finally ending his attempt to suffocate himself. "Your what? What's a shack prize?"

"Oh, you know - a shack prize. When you shack up with someone and you wear some of their clothes home the next morning and keep them."

"Do you have a large collection of shack prizes, Bella?"

I reach across the darkness and playfully punch at the first thing my hand makes contact with.

"Ouch! Damn, woman."

"Good night, Edward," I say sternly.

"You didn't answer my question."

I smirk. "This is my first, but it won't be my last."

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"Remind me to hide my favorite Jane's Addiction shirt tomorrow."

I try to swing at him again, but this time he catches my arm and pulls it across his chest, snuggling my body next to his.

"Good night, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

Author's Note:

Wanna know how I came up with this story? Check out my Avant Garde Award: Pimp my Story Interview http:/www[dot]avantgardeawards[dot]com/pimp-my-story-by-viridian6 (there is a link on my profile, too)

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