As always: Everything and anything related to the Twilight saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

Special thanks and much adoration to my beta freakyhazeleyes.

Chapter Thirteen: Six down, Twenty to go

Sleepless and restless were the best words to describe Bella's sleep the night before. She couldn't settle her mind. Eventually she just decided to stay awake, and after a few hours, she watched the sun peaking through the curtains of Edward's window before turning back to look at him as she had been. She watched as he slept soundly beside her, his chest rising and falling evenly with each breath he took.

When he slept, he looked so much as he did when they were kids with his unruly bronze locks splayed haphazardly across his pillow, his lips jutted out in a pout that would occasionally turn up into a smile, then fall again.

Bella couldn't help but admire him. Edward really was beautiful in every sense of the word, with his tall, lean, fit figure, his perfectly disheveled hair, and a face that women adored and men envied. He was what Bella often referred to as "out of this world" beautiful. Edward possessed the kind of beauty where you knew that you weren't even worthy to be staring at the person; almost god-like in appearance. The kind of beautiful you read of in books but never thought existed. There was almost an aura of greatness that Edward embodied, and there always had been, even when they were children.

It had been the first day of middle school—the sixth grade—when Bella had first truly noticed it. The moment the two of them had been dropped off by Edward's mother, there was something in Edward's walk that was different from what Bella remembered, or perhaps she had never noticed. It was as they walked across the asphalt parking lot, the stares of the girls, some of them upper classmen, that she realized it. Even the boys stared at Edward's confident strides. There was a magnetism that radiated from the young boy that still existed to this day.

You would think that having such a command over people would've made Edward arrogant, just a downright prick, but no. He has remained as humble, kind, and sincere as the day he had told Bella that "pretty girls shouldn't cry".

Even before really knowing Bella, Edward has been there for her.

He had always been there for her. It was difficult for Bella to even think of one occurrence when Edward hadn't been there for her. She struggled the week before to find one time, one event, one devastatingly embarrassing moment where Edward hadn't been there to laugh about it, to comfort her, to reassure her. She sat by her windows for hours, and couldn't find one memory that didn't somehow have Edward in it, even if it was just a brief mentioning of him from one of her college buddies. And after almost two hours of sitting in the silence, the one time she did think up of, still resulted in Edward coming to her after he found out.

It had taken place the day before Edward's thirteenth birthday. He hadn't come to school because that Friday was the only day his father would be able to celebrate his birthday with him. Carlisle had been given rounds to do at the hospital on Saturday and Sunday, and if he couldn't be there to celebrate with his children, he always found some sort of compromise.

It wasn't the first time that Edward had been absent from school, but Bella had never had to deal with this kind of utter humiliation without him before. During lunch that day, in front of the entire seventh and eighth grade classes, Bella tripped and face planted in the middle of the cafeteria, the pizza she had bought creating a target on her shirt for ridicule the rest of the day.

So, the next morning when her father came in and told her to wake up and get ready for Edward's birthday party, she pretended to be sick. She asked Charlie, begged him really, to call Esme and tell her that she was ill and that she couldn't come. And even though Charlie hadn't believed a single word of her excuse, he called the Cullen house, never bothering to ask why Bella didn't want to go. That was one of the things she loved about her father, he didn't hover.

If he would've asked, he would've learned that she didn't want to show her face, regardless of her childhood promise to Edward, in front of all her classmates who would be there.

Two hours later, Bella heard the familiar sounds of a playing card, an ace of spades to be exact, flapping with the wind in the spokes of a dirt bike. She would never forget the sounds of Edward yelling her name as he tried to control his breathing all whilst he jumped off his bike and ran up the front steps of her porch. From her window where she watched him, she could see the sweat pouring down his face, dirt on his arms, and a crushed cake box in his hand as he rang the doorbell recklessly.

Seconds later, she heard his rushed greeting to her father, who tried to berate him for the obnoxious manner of ringing the bell, only to be ignored and given a half-assed apology as Edward pounded up the stairs as quickly as possible. He came crashing through her door, sprawling himself on her bed, all as she watched from her spot by the window, a few moments later. Up close, she could see what the long bike trek and June weather had done to him. He was slightly sunburned and sweating as if he had just run a marathon.

"Edward what are you doing here?" she asked, exasperated as he rubbed his forehead with her comforter. She grimaced, but opted not to mention it. He had just trekked over two miles on his bike to her house.

"Yo…you…did…didn't," he started, breathlessly before taking in a large gulp of air. "I heard what happened. Is that why you didn't come?" he asked, still trying to catch his breath.

"No, I'm sick."

"Bullshit!" he yelled, and Charlie shouted from downstairs for Edward to watch his language.

"Sorry, Chief Swan," he bellowed back before speaking softer this time, but his tone of voice spiteful. "That's BS! I know you're not sick. You would've called me yourself. Instead, you had your dad call my mom. That's a chump move, Bells."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, turning away from him. She was ashamed by her actions.

"Bella, I can't believe you were going to miss my birthday. We said we would always be there for each other's birthday, regardless of how old were were—thirteen, thirty, one hundred and two."

Bella chuckled lightly as he recited the promise they made when they were seven, but still it was tight. She felt terrible for breaking the pinky swear.

"I'm sorry, but you should head back. I can't believe you just left your own birthday party like that. There must be fifty people at your house right now."

"No. I told them all to go home, and then I came here."

"What? You stopped your party because of me? Edward, you shouldn't have done that! People aren't going to like that very much." Edward scoffed.

"Do you think I care?" His tone evoking exactly how little he really cared about what everyone else thought, and for a brief moment she had smiled at her best friend's valiant stand.

"What about Lauren?" Bella asked, already feeling the wrath Lauren would unleash on Bella, Monday at school.

"What about her?" he asked, sitting up on the bed, patting a spot next to him. Bella moved the sweat covered comforter and sat down.

"She's your girlfriend. She already hates me, and now you've given her more reason."

"Who cares? I told her when I asked her to be my girlfriend that you were my best friend, and you and my family came first."

"Dude, no wonder she hates me," Bella shook her head in dismay, but she couldn't help the little smile that started to creep. Those few words had brightened her day.

"She's crazy, anyway. I should've dumped her after the first date. I mean what kind of girl doesn't eat pizza. I mean, really. You scarf down like three slices by yourself. She wouldn't even touch the damn thing."

"Edward! She's not crazy. She's just really girly, whereas I'm not. She cares about how she looks. You should know. She is your girlfriend."

"Yeah, I still wonder why I asked her. I hate girly-girls. That's why you're my best friend. You're practically a dude," he laughed as Bella punched his arm.

"I take that back. You punch like a girl, so you must be a least some part girl."

"Hey, I'm all girl," she protested, crossing her arms over her chest. Edward's eyes drifted down to the cut in her tank top, noticing for the first time that Bella had breasts, albeit they were small and still growing, but damn, his best friend had boobs, and the little detour of his eyes didn't go unnoticed.

"Hey! Stop staring at my chest," she whispered harshly, not wanting to alarm Charlie, but still wanting to get her point across.

"Sorry, just trying to see if you really were a girl. Check!" he chuckled as made a check mark in the air and pulled the crushed cake box in-between them.

"Ass!" she cried out through her laughter as he opened the box. Inside was a birthday cake that had felt the entire bike ride over. Half the cake was stuck to the top of the box and the letters that were supposed to read HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDWARD, actually looked more like HEY DAY ED.

The two laughed as they started to eat the cake, using plastic spoons Edward had carried in his pocket.

"Hey Day, Ed!" Bella cheerfully said, laughing lightly.

"Thanks, Bells," he thanked her sincerely, smiling with a mouthful of cake causing Bella to laugh and spit out some frosting from her mouth.

"Anytime, Edward."

"Ditto, Bella!"

Even then, he had managed to make his birthday about her. Bella thought about it, most of Sunday, and came to the conclusion that in her lifetime, the twenty five years she had been around so far, she had a close knit group of friends, a set of pretty good acquaintances, and then there was Edward in his own league.

And as she thought about it, Edward was so much more than just her roommate, so much more than her weekend lover and best friend.

He was her soul mate.

No one knew more about her than he did. No one knew what made her laugh or what made her cry. No one knew exactly how to push her buttons and break her resolve. No one knew how much she loved Nutella, but hated peanut butter. No one knew how to make her feel alive quite like he did.

He knew her like he knew the back of his hand.

He was her soul mate, and on Sunday when the revelation had hit her during breakfast in the diner, it scared the shit out of her, so when Edward nearly kissed her last night, she gasped. It was too much to handle.

Not entirely because it was against the rules, but because she had wanted it, so fucking badly. That the kiss he left on the corner of her mouth was still searing even after he fell asleep.

She had wanted it, and it scared her because it was such an intimate thing. When they were sixteen they had both decided that they would not kiss throughout the entire process of their losing their virginities. Edward had made the point that it was too personal, and she had agreed whole-heartedly. Kissing was for couples. However, if Bella had been quicker on her feet at the time, she would have said that sex was for couples as well.

And when they finally got about "doing the deed", as Edward had so sneakily written on her calendar—DOING THE DEED WITH E!—not once did she have the urge to kiss him, but last night, last night it was like something was tugging at her to kiss him. She had wanted it like a junkie wanted his next hit.

And it fucking scared her, and she gasped, regretfully, because the moment his lips had touch the corner of her mouth, she wanted to cry because to be so close to getting what she truly desired and then to be denied was cruel.

It had hurt more than she had ever thought it would.

Even as she walked out of his room in the morning and into the bathroom to shower, she could still feel the kiss, and still feel the urge to cry.

She knew this game was going to change everything. She had had her doubts, but had pushed them aside since in the mornings, Edward has still managed to still act the same, but she had a feeling that today would be different.

As she showered, scrubbing herself clean, she couldn't help but be reminded of the night before. Her whole body hurt, even her throat from having to restrain herself from screaming out.

She kept conjuring up the image of Edward above her, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips, and she almost brought herself to believe that he too had wanted it just as badly as she did. She was brought out of her thoughts by a persistent knocking.

"Hey, Bells, can I come in?" he pleaded; obviously he had to use the restroom, so she complied quickly.

"Thanks," he murmured, still half asleep.

She tried not to pay attention to him, but when she heard him stop, she stepped away from the water, waiting for the sound of the toilet flushing, but it never came. Instead, she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.

She screamed. It wasn't very loud. It was more between a shriek and a gasp.

"Sorry," murmured his familiar voice. Of course it was Edward. Who else would it have been? She thought.

"It's okay. It just surprised me, is all. What are you doing, though?"

She turned around to find, Edward staring down at her. Only the right half of his body was getting wet.

"Can I join you?" he asked, innocently, a cherub like smile on his face.

"It's a little late to ask, don't you think? You're already under the shower head," she pointed out smugly, silently thanking Edward. He was acting as if the almost-kiss hadn't happened, and though it upset her to see him totally dismiss it, it felt so much better to just act as if it never happened. This, what they had, this easy banter, this playfulness, this contentment was normal for them, and it felt good to be behaving as they always did.

"Au contraire, I'm only half under the water. Can the other half join?" he asked, that infamous smug smirk splayed across his face.

"Whatever! Feel free to have your entire body under the water."

"Good, 'cause my left side was getting cold," he laughed as he pushed Bella back a bit and got his entire body wet.

Bella chuckled as a look of sheer pleasure formed on his face as the hot water cascaded down his chest. She watched mesmerized as rivulets of water dripped, some slowly, some quickly, down his abs, leading directly down to his flaccid dick.

Stunning, she thought, but quickly stopped staring before Edward could catch her.

"Come here," he ordered, pulling her to him, and turning her around so her back was to his front.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he kept her away from the water.

"Pass me the shampoo."

Bella complied and passed him the bottle of her favorite shampoo. She heard the cap top pop open and heard him squeeze the bottle. The bottle made a squirt sound since it was almost empty. Edward chuckled, and it took Bella a moment to realize why.

"Ah, crap," she groaned as Edward kept laughing. "Grow up, Cullen!"

Through hard laughter, he answered. "I can't help it. It's the irony of this moment, of the sound. It's such a memorable sound. I get the most amazing images in my head," he groaned behind her, and she closed her eyes and let a deep breath out. She could only imagine that the images she was seeing were the same he was.

"Only something as an empty shampoo bottle would make you think of that," she replied, her voice hoarse. "You're so odd."

"But you love me," he jested, starting to massage her scalp with the shampoo. He was gentle and forceful all at the same time. His fingers were like magic. They rubbed her scalp in just the right way. He even tugged at the roots lightly, causing her to moan.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice husky in her ear.

"Mhmmm," was the only response she could muster as his hands suddenly left her scalp. He pushed lightly under the spray of water, and rubbed the shampoo out, repeating his early motions.

"Feels great," she moaned as she felt the shampoo suds run down her back.

"Good. I know many things that can make you feel amazing," he groaned, his voice pure sex. Bella recognized the tone of voice. She was so tempted to reach down toward his dick, knowing full and well that he was already hard.

"Really?" she asked, smirking, her tone matching his, as she opened her eyes to look at him. Immediately, she regretted it.

"Ahh, it stings," she shrieked as the shampoo ran down into her eyes. Edward let out a staggered laugh as he tilted Bella's head to flush out her eyes out.

"Leave it to you cock block me by getting shampoo in your eyes," he teased as he held her eyes open to make sure all the shampoo was gone.

"Shut up, it really hurts. What were you thinking anyway? It's Sunday. No hanky panky!" she laughed as Edward pouted.

"Technically, Sunday is the weekend, and you called it called 'Alphabet Weekends', why do we only get to have fun on Saturdays?" he asked.

"Because I like to walk and if I have to struggle to get up in the morning, I'll be late, and you know how much I hate being late," was Bella's frank answer as she stepped out of the shower, Edward laughing as he shampooed.

"What do you want to eat?" she asked as she towel dried, watching Edward tilt his head back into the water. She followed a trail of suds down his torso before breaking herself out of the shampoo-induced trance. One look at his hard dick and it would be over for her and her resolve.

"You," Edward answered, complete, and utter smugness in his tone.

"Very funny, Mr. Cullen, but that ain't gonna happen."

"You're a book editor and you used ain't in a sentence? Tsk, tsk, Bells," he teased as he stepped out of the water, looking like he stepped straight out of a Cool Water advertisement.

"Shove it up your ass," she reprimanded as she started to brush her teeth.

"You first!" he pointed to her as he winked at her through the wet mirror, she had just wiped off. Bella rolled her eyes, and rinsed off her toothbrush, watching Edward like a hawk making sure he used his own.

"Geeze, Mom! Don't you trust me?" Edward asked staring at Bella.

"As far as I can throw you, and that's not very far!"

"That's terrible, Bella. I thought you trusted me," he mocked hurt tossing his brush back into the cup on the linoleum sink. Again, Bella found herself rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Casanova. Time for breakfast. What do you want?" she asked walking toward her room to get dressed.

"I already answered that," he asked, starting to stalk his way toward her.

"Be serious, Edward Anthony Cullen!" she scolded him and he laughed.

"Well, if you're being that serious, pulling the full name card and what not, then I want eggs and bacon, oh and that strawberry peach salad thing you make."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Edward," she called out to him. He turned around and gave her an attentive stare.

"I've already picked out my letter."

"What? That's cheating! How do I know that you didn't choose a ton of them and then decided on the one you really liked?" He inquired, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Because you know me, and you trust me, so in grand Edward Cullen fashion, six down, twenty more to go," she made a grand gesture with her hands, smiling at him as she did it, but Edward stood staring with a sour expression on his face.

"Bring it on, Benedict Arnold!" he answered, smirking haughtily at her.

"I'm not a traitor," she whined in protest, almost tempted to stomp her foot down and Edward merely laughed as he closed his door.