Edward

As soon as I ring Bella's doorbell, Alice swings the front door open. She's always the first to get there. "Edward!" she squeaks. She launches up onto her toes and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Alice," I greet her, a bemused by her enthusiasm. "What's up?"

My eyes are immediately drawn to Bella, who sits cross-legged on the couch, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Just waiting for Jasper. He has a surprise date planned for us tonight. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Edward?" She raises an eyebrow and grins mischievously.

I'm not about to spoil Jasper's surprise. He's been planning it all week: dinner, champagne, a luxe hotel room, and a bit of serenading. All that mushy stuff girls love, he told me. I have a feeling it's not something Bella would love, though.

"Why, no, Alice. I don't."

I lock eyes with Bella and immediately feel as though I can't get her alone quickly enough. I clear my throat. "Are you ready to go? I picked up a few groceries on my way."

She nods and stands up. "Have fun tonight, Alice. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." They giggle like they've shared some inside joke. She leans down to hug Alice, who's sitting in an armchair, and God help me. I can't keep my eyes from wandering up her shapely legs as her dress rides up a bit in the back. I choke on nothing and swallow. Hard.

Bella turns and smiles. "Ready!" she says, and I take her hand and lead her out the door.

Bella meanders around my apartment, looking around and touching the odd item, picking up framed photos and examining them.

"Make yourself at home," I say as I unpack the few groceries I just bought and prepare to start dinner. "Can I get you anything? Water? A glass of wine?"

"Wine sounds great."

I pour two glasses and take one to her in the dining room, where she's standing in front of a large, framed photograph.

"Your family?" she asks.

I nod and take a sip of wine. "My mom, Esme." I point at my mom's classically pretty face and move on to my dad. "My dad, Carlisle. And these are my grandparents, Edward and Elizabeth."

"You were named after your grandfather?"

"Yeah. Edward Anthony Masen. Masen's my middle name."

"Beautiful. The whole family." She looks at me with a flirtatious smirk.

I hook a finger under her chin and tilt her face to mine. "You're beautiful." I stare into her eyes, trying to convey my feelings for her without words.

"I don't know about all that," she says with a small laugh, seeming a little uncomfortable with the attention.

"You're everything, Bella," I breathe, leaning closer, brushing my lips softly against hers, savoring the feel of her. She sighs, and her body relaxes against me. I put my wine glass down on the table and wrap my arms around her, holding her close to me.

"You're too good to me. I might get used to it. I'll turn into a spoiled brat, and you'll get sick and tired of me."

"Impossible." I place a light kiss on the tip of her nose, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapped around my waist. "Oh, I just remembered!" I take her by the hand, lead her to the stereo system in the living room, and put in a CD. "I made you a playlist."

"You made me a playlist?"

I nod. The opening strains of Billie Holiday's "You're My Thrill" fill the room, and Bella's face lights up. "I love Billie Holiday."

"I know." I kiss her on the forehead and pull her over to sit on a barstool while I make dinner.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asks.

"Absolutely not. You just relax, drink, and enjoy the music."

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Cullen?"

"Oh, you'll know when I'm trying to seduce you, Miss Swan," I tell her in a low voice, raising an eyebrow at her. Her face turns my favorite shade of blush, and I've won that round.

Billie Holiday's melts away into the slow strumming of a song by Built to Spill.

"Oh, this is that song I was telling you about in the park that day. Listen to the words. You'll see why I love it." I sing along under my breath. "The wind and snow, and the rain that blows. None of those would matter much without you. And as long as it's talking with you, talk of the weather will do." I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She's perched on the stool with her head tilted to one side, propped on her hand as she runs the fingers of her other hand around the rim of the wine glass.

We fall into easy conversation when the song ends. Bella mentioned in passing that spaghetti was one of her favorite things, so I'm using my mom's recipe. I want everything tonight to be about Bella. I have some things I want to discuss with her, and I have to own up to my attempt butter her up with dinner and music. And the wine, of course. I want her relaxed and happy, because what I'm about to ask her is extremely important to me.

Bella

"That was out of this world, Edward." My fork clinks against the plate as I drop it. Spaghetti is one of my favorite things. I'm not even embarrassed at the gusto with which I cleaned my plate. I lean back in the chair with my glass of wine and close my eyes. "You missed your calling as a chef."

"It's my mom's recipe." He laughs and pours the last of the pinot noir into our glasses, then leads me to the couch. Edward's apartment is amazing. The living room and kitchen have exposed brick walls, and everything is dark and sort of romantic, especially with the music. He tells me more about his family. His mom's an event planner and is involved with all kinds of charities. His dad is a family doctor. There are no brothers or sisters, which I already knew. His grandmother lives in Chicago now, too. He tells me that she couldn't stand staying here, among constant reminders of what they shared during their lifetime together. When he shrugs, I know what's coming, and I dread it.

"What about your family?"

I bite the inside of my cheek, wanting to put this off. I hate talking about it.

"Bella?"

"Yeah." I heave a great sigh. "I haven't talked to either of my parents in a while. Like…a long time."

"How long?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"A year?" I'm not sure anymore. I roll my eyes and drop my head back against the couch cushions. "Long story short, my dad cheated on my mom. I broke contact with him and haven't seen him since…God, last March, I think."

I peek up at his face, but he doesn't have

"I haven't seen my mother in almost a year, either. She went through some—" I wave my hand in the air. "—midlife crisis or something after the affair and moved out to California. I talked to her from time to time at first, but… It's hard. I felt abandoned, and it got harder and harder to reconcile her reasons with my feelings. She has this whole other life out there. She's remarried and has a stepson. It happened really fast, and…" I shrug. "I try not to think about it."

He kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry," he says simply. "That must be really hard."

I'm so thankful that he doesn't push. I don't want to talk about it anymore. We fall into a companionable silence, listening to the haunting melody of an older Radiohead song drifting through the speakers. Closing my eyes, I lean my head on Edward's shoulder.

He clears his throat after a minute or two of just relaxing. "Bella?"

"Hmm?" I'm too comfortable and happy to form words just yet.

"I was hoping we could talk a little…about us."

He seems nervous. I pick my up head from his shoulder and kiss his cheek, hoping to give him whatever confidence he needs to go on. "Okay. Shoot."

"Well, we've been seeing each other for a few weeks."

"Right." A lone butterfly flutters its wings in my stomach.

"I was sort of wondering…about something." He turns slightly, bending one knee and resting his leg on the couch so he's facing me. I follow suit. His fingers trail lightly down my cheekbone, and I think he's buying himself some time. "So, whenever people ask me, 'Hey, who's that girl you're with?', would—would it be okay if I told them you're my girlfriend?"

I smile at his adorable way with words. I can't resist teasing him, so I purse my lips and pretend to think for a moment. But it's no easy feat when I want that as much as he seems to. "I'd like that very much," I tell him confidently.

Edward's answering smile lights up the whole room. He leans forward again to kiss me softly. Every time our lips touch, a silly thrill goes through my body, starting at my head and traveling all the way down to my fingers and toes, lingering in my abdomen.

"My Bella," falls from his lips, like velvet at my ear. He trails kisses down my jaw and back to my mouth. I tilt my head to allow him better access. Jeff Buckley croons "Hallelujah" now, and our kisses are uninhibited. Tongues and hands explore. I don't know how much time passes. Seconds? Minutes? I don't care. But before things start to get really heated, a thought tugs at me, like I should tell Edward a few things before we got too…intimate.

I pull away slightly and sigh. "Edward, there are things I need to discuss with you, too."

He leans his lips against my temple, inhaling deeply. "You're not changing your mind, are you?"

"Of course not. Seriously, though, there are…things…that I should just get out into the open before they come up elsewhere."

"Go ahead," he says. "Nothing you say can change the way I feel about you."

"Right." I clear my throat and exhale slowly. "Okay. So I didn't date much in high school. I just didn't. There weren't really any guys that seemed worth the effort." His expression is amused, so I shrug and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "When I started college, guys started to notice me. I didn't realize it at first, but Alice did." I roll my eyes here, and Edward laughs again.

"Let me guess. She tried to set you up with every guy that looked your way. Meddler."

"Basically. Anyway, at the beginning of the spring semester, I started seeing this guy from another school. We dated for a couple of months. I was nineteen and completely inexperienced. He…taught me a few things. I was pretty damned innocent then. Sheltered, you know?"

He nods, but his face darkens somewhat. I tell myself to just power through. "One night we went to a concert, then back to my dorm room to hang out. And um, one thing led to another. Before I knew it, we were both…you know…mostly naked and kissing, and…" My heart starts to pound as a familiar panic sneaks in, and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself before going on. "He didn't even ask me. He just sort of…did it. Literally five seconds later, I lay there on my bed, completely stunned and wondering what had happened. He got out of bed and lit up a cigarette, stood in the middle of my room with in his stupid tighty-whities, and sang along with the radio while I sat on the bed with my knees pulled up to my chest. After that night, I spoke to him once on the phone. I never saw him again. He got kicked out of school the next week for cheating. He wouldn't talk to me or his roommate or anyone else."

"Bella," Edward says, squeezing my hand. He doesn't negate my feelings like a lot of people have. He doesn't tell me that it doesn't matter, or that I was just young and inexperienced. He seems to know that it was more than a big deal. "I'm sorry that happened to you. And thank you for trusting me enough to share it with me." He put a hand on my face and looks intently into my eyes. "I hope you realize I'm not going to pressure you for anything."

I bite the inside of my lip. "That's not it. I don't feel pressured at all." I take his other hand in mine and squeeze. "Believe it or not, that was the easy part to tell."

His thumb rubs circles over the back of my hand, encouraging me and putting me at ease.

"After all that happened, I sort of went a little…well, I didn't exactly restrain myself from…being with guys. It's not like I wanted to be—I don't know—promiscuous? In retrospect, I guess I thought that if I gave them what they wanted, they'd like me." I peek up at him sheepishly.

His hand on my cheek moves to my hair, smoothing it back from my face. "Bella, I understand. You went through something traumatizing, and there were consequences. It's not fair that you're the one who had to pay them." He kisses my head tenderly.

"But that's just it. I didn't feel traumatized. I didn't really tell anyone what had happened, except Alice, of course, and another close friend. I didn't feel like it was that big of a deal. I figured girls lose their virginity every day, right? And I told myself that I was a willing and active participant getting so carried away with him in the first place."

"But you weren't—" he begins.

"I know that now. But then, I just felt like… Well, I felt that if I'd already done it, what was the point of waiting around? If I thought it's what a guy wanted, if I thought he liked me and it would keep him interested in me, then…" I trail off. "Edward, I was such an idiot. I mean, I always used protection, and I've been tested and everything, but God, if I could go back and change things…"

When I refuse to look up at him, Edward slides down to his knees on the floor in front of me to meet my gaze. He takes both my hands in his and brings them to his lips, brushing soft kisses across my knuckles. "Bella, I don't care about any of that. All I care about is you. The past doesn't matter. Nothing either of us has done matters, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. I'm just incredibly happy you made your way into my life."

My eyes fill with tears at his sweet words—words that, until only recently, I didn't think I wanted to hear again—and I try desperately to blink them back, embarrassed to cry in front of him. I whisper his name, and he's back beside me on the couch in an instant, his thumbs wiping away tears before they can even fall to my cheeks. He pulls me into his side again, and a content quiet falls over us. I feel lighter somehow as we sit in easy silence. He plays with my hair gently, and I trace patters with my fingertips on his denim-clad knee.

I listen closely to the new song that begins when a Fred Astaire one ends. This CD is the most eclectic, most special thing I've ever heard. I can't place it at first, but the voice in the new song sounds oddly familiar. Then realization breaks over me. I turn slightly so I can see Edward's face. "Is this you singing?"

"Uh-huh." He kisses the top of my head.

The song isn't slow, but it wasn't upbeat either. It's sexy yet tender. On the surface, the words could be about anyone. But it doesn't feel like they are about just anyone…

Edward answers my unasked question. "It's for you."

I'm speechless. I turn around, swinging my legs over his to hang off the couch. "You wrote this? For me?" I ask, incredulous.

He nods, and I think I see color rising high on his cheeks.

"Edward, it's beautiful." Tears gather in my eyes again, blurring my vision. "I wish I knew how to even start to put into words how happy you make me."

He catches my lips with his, and we kiss sweetly as the song plays out. He kisses my forehead again and looks at the clock. "It's pretty late. Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asks. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

I yawn and shake my head. "I'll stay, but there's no way I'm letting you sleep on the couch."

"Well, I'm certainly not letting you sleep on the couch."

I place an innocent kiss on his pouty lips. "I wasn't planning on it."

He chuckles. "You're priceless." He returns the chaste kiss after I yawn again. "Let's go to bed, then. It's been a long day."

I follow him to his bedroom, where he finds a t-shirt for me to sleep in and leaves me to change. The shirt almost reaches my knees. I wash my face in the bathroom, brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush, and climb into his bed.

I lean back on the pillows and moaned in delight as Edward comes back into the room wearing flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. "Oh, my god. You have the most comfortable bed ever."

"Glad you think so." He hops up next to me and grins mischievously. "I intend to keep you here."

I laugh as he tickles me under my arms, an extremely sensitive spot he discovered about a week ago, unfortunately. "Stop! Stop!" I gasp. "Can't breathe!"

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close as I yawn and catch my breath again. I turn my face over my shoulder to share a soft kiss with him.

"Good night," I say, locking my fingers with his and resting my head on the pillow that smells just like him.

"Good night, Bella," he whispers against my ear.

As I lie there in the quiet, wrapped in my boyfriend's arms and wearing his shirt, I'm at peace, like this is where I'm meant to be. In that moment, I feel a million things: relief, delight, excitement, exhaustion. But most of all, something I haven't felt in a long time…utter contentment.

Bella

I wake up the next morning to Edward tracing my face with his fingers. I stretch and yawn and grin as my eyes flutter open, searching for his.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

"Were you watching me sleep? Creeper," I tease him. My voice is croaky and sleepy.

He chuckles and pinches my cheek lightly.

"Morning," I say, snuggling against him. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven."

"Seriously?" He nods, and I raise my head to check the alarm clock that sits on his nightstand. "I must've been exhausted."

"Clearly," he says and leans in for a kiss.

I cover my mouth before he can reach me. "Morning breath."

"I don't care," he says, prying my hand away and presses three sweet kisses to my lips.

"What are we doing today?" I roll over, and he rests his hand in the dip of my waist, just above my hip. It feels possessive in a way, and I kind of love it.

"Whatever you want."

"Let's be lazy."

He nuzzles my neck with his nose. "Done."

I sigh happily as his lips trail tickle their way up the column of my throat.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"Ravenous."

"Pancakes?"

"Absolutely."

Edward gets up and tosses me a pair of shorts from a drawer. "Here. They're probably big, but it's the best I've got. Also, I love seeing you in my clothes." He grins as I slip the shorts on under the covers and roll them down at the waist.

"Maybe I should get rid of mine and share with you, then."

His eyes roam over my body approvingly when I stand up. "I don't know. I liked the way your dress inched up the back of your legs when you leaned over yesterday."

"You're bad."

"It's your fault."

My knees go weak, but I change the subject. "Pancakes?"

He continues to survey me with heavy-lidded green eyes. "Pancakes."

We work together to mix up the pancake batter, Edward heating up a griddle on the stove as I stir. "Ready for the first one?" I ask.

"I think so."

We eat at the kitchen table, wash the dishes together, and then lounge on the couch with the Sunday paper. I tease him about the fact that he still subscribes. "How old are you again?"

"Shut it, you," he says, poking my leg with his foot.

Edward peruses the entertainment section. I opt for the funnies.

"What time is dinner tonight?" he asks after a while.

"Six."

"Why the long face?"

"I don't want to leave, but I have to go home and get ready."

"Then don't," he says, lying back and pulling me on top of him, his arms surrounding me.

"I have to shower and change. I can't miss Em's birthday dinner."

"Just call Alice and ask her to bring you some stuff.'

I raise my head from his chest and kiss his chin. "Good thinking. I knew I was keeping you around for some reason."

Edward slides his hands up my sides. "That's the only reason, huh?"

I realize a split second later what he's doing, but it's too late. He tickles underneath my arms, and I screech and try to squirm out of his grasp.

"Edward!" I beg, laughing wildly, kicking my legs and trying to get away. "Stop!"

He flips me over on my back and gets up on his knees, pinning me down and giving him a better angle for torturing me.

When he's rendered me breathless, he relents and leans down to kiss me. "I love seeing you laugh like that."

"Just tell me a joke next time," I say between deep breaths.

He shakes his head. "Not the same." He grins and brushes a soft kiss across my lips. "You should just wear that to dinner," he says, looking down at his t-shirt.

"I'm sure everyone would approve."

"I approve." His body covers mine as he drags his lips along my neck for the unf-th time.

"If this is the kind of reaction elicited by me wearing your clothes, I really will throw all of mine away." I push my head back into the couch cushions, giving him better access. His lips barely touch my skin, but they leave a torturous tingling in their wake. When they finally reach my mouth, I'm more than ready. My hands lace through his hair, and I think my whole body blushes when I feel him hard against my thigh. My fingers curled and tugged slightly at his red-brown locks.

"God, Bella," he whispers against my jawline, and I love the way he utters my name. "You're so—"

I interrupt him by pressing my lips hard against his again. His tongue snakes out and tangles with mine as his hands move back down my sides and grasp my hips. An embarrassing sound escapes me, but the only coherent thought running through my brain flickers like a neon sign. I never want this gorgeous man to take his hands off me.

Edward

God, she's killing me. I can't stop. I hitch her leg around me and almost lose it when she moves her hips minutely against me and makes a soft, sexy noise in her throat. I want her so badly.

The thing is, I made a promise to myself last night. After Bella's obvious struggle to open up, I took on a mission to show her in every way I can how much she means to me already. Except this way.

I want to make her feel loved, desired, needed…everything. But in a non-sexual way. The last thing I want is to make her feel like I'm just another guy who'll fuck and run. It makes me angry to think of her being treated that way.

But when she's pressed against me like this, I struggle to keep that silent promise. She's sensual. Amazing. Apparently unaware of just how desirable she is. I have every intention of showing her…eventually. But not now.

My hands, seeming to move of their own volition, slip underneath her, one supporting her back and one cradling her head as I lift her gently to a sitting position, bringing her up to straddle my lap. She breaks our kiss and drops her head down on my shoulder. "We should slow down," I whisper against her ear. My hands tell another story, though tightening around her hips as she presses herself against me. I want to pull her closer, push her away, bury myself inside her, all at once.

She nods, though, and places a small kiss on my neck. My hard-on brushes between her legs, and I voice my thoughts this time. "You're killing me."

A whimper escapes her throat as she scoots backward on my lap. My body misses hers immediately. I lean forward and catch her lips in a kiss that I hope conveys everything I feel for her. I adjust myself as she crawls off my lap and curls up in the corner of the couch. "Uh…you want to shower first?" I ask her as her clouded gaze searches my face.

She shakes her head, and I'm grateful. "You go ahead. I'll call Alice and ask her to bring me some clothes."

I move to my knees to cup the back of her neck and kiss her one more time. "Be right back." As I pad down the hall to my bedroom, I want nothing more than to invite her to join me in the shower. But that will have to wait. In the shower, scalding water beats down on me and I idly stroke my hard-on. A little bit of guilt wells inside me when I contemplate how her hand would feel wrapped around me instead of my own. Her dazed gaze is burned into my mind, and I'm overcome. I want her. Not just physically. I want to make her feel as overwhelmed as I feel when I'm near her. And I reaffirm my vow to myself. I'll work as hard as it takes until she does.