Bella

"Please, please can I kiss you?" Edward begs me on Friday night. He's been feeling much better and hasn't gotten sick for two days. But I'm so afraid of getting the awful virus that I haven't let him touch me.

"Maybe," I tell him. "If you can eat a real dinner and still feel okay."

He pouts but concedes defeat. "Do you know how frustrating it is not to be able to kiss your girlfriend when she's sitting right next to you?" He mutters something about taunting him with tiny shorts, but I ignore him.

"No, but I do know how horrible you've felt for the past week, and I'm taking every precaution against catching your germs."

"I've noticed." Edward doesn't take well to sitting around the house and doing nothing. Books and the Wii only held his attention for so long. He's itching to get back to the shop and lessons, even though that's most likely where he picked up the virus in the first place.

For dinner, I make a simple dinner of stir-fried vegetables and chicken, and Edward devours it with gusto.

"Oh, God," he says on a sigh. "I never thought I'd miss solid food so much."

"Careful. You don't want to overdo it and make yourself sick again."

"You're such a good nurse. Have you thought about a career in healthcare?" He smirks, knowing full well how squeamish I am about illness and blood and injury.

"Ugh. I'd pass out on the first day."

He chuckles and shovels another bite into his mouth. "Seriously. You've taken such good care of me this week. Thank you."

"Of course. Did you expect me to leave you here alone in your misery?" I lean over and kissed him on the cheek.

His smile is radiant. "Does this mean I can finally kiss you?"

I shrug and sigh, unable to hide my grin. "I suppose so."

He's extra attentive for the rest of the evening. And later, to show his appreciation, he touches and kisses every inch of me in bed. I'm consumed by it.

A few days later, I have lunch with Angela and Jessica, who both managed to avoid getting sick. Thank goodness for that, because Angela had enough puking with her recently passed morning sickness.

"How far along are you now?" Jessica asks, reaching over to pat Angela's baby bump.

"Twenty-six weeks," she answers in between bites of a huge hamburger. "I feel as big as a house, and I'm only getting bigger."

Jess eyes the burger and raises an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. The baby likes meat."

I giggle. "You're all belly, Ang. You look radiant. It doesn't look like you've gained an ounce anywhere else."

"My ass is nice and cushy. Ben likes it."

"You're still due at the end of May, then?" Jessica asks, picking at her salad.

Angela stops midway through a bit of her burger. "Well, yes."

"I'm not dumb," Jessica huffs. "Doctors get those things wrong all the time."

"It was pretty cut and dry with me. We knew exactly when this baby was conceived." She pats her stomach fondly. "It may have been a surprise, but it was easy to figure out."

"I'm excited to meet her. Or him," I tell her. "I love babies."

"I'm actually getting nervous," she admits. "I've been reading all these books, and the number of things that can go wrong is just crazy. Ben asked me to quit reading them."

"Oh! That reminds me," I say, digging around in my large bag. "I got you something. This one might be fun."

"The Baby Owner's Manual: Operating Instructions, Trouble-Shooting Tips, and Advice on First-Year Maintenance." She laughs and flips through it. "I think Ben will approve. Thanks, Bella."

"You're welcome. So are you guys still set on the big reveal?"

"Yes. We want to do it the old-fashioned way."

"You're gonna get a lot of boring neutrals at your baby shower," Jessica chimes in.

"Or maybe we should buy two of everything—one in pink and one in blue," I joke. "Then you can return the wrong color."

She shrugs. "We won't need much at first anyway."

"Or we could wait and have the shower after the baby's born," Jessica suggests.

"I'm okay with whatever," Angela insists. "Our moms are throwing a shower together next month, so if you guys want to wait until after to do yours, that's fine. But like I told you, it's really not necessary." She clasps her hands together and adopts a fake, high-pitched tone. "Your love and support is all we need." Then she dives back into her huge burger.

"Maybe I'll just buy you a membership to a steak-of-the-month club," Jessica says with a snort.

Later that night, Edward and I sit side-by-side on the couch, searching for plane tickets to California.

"Looks like buying the from the airline site is cheaper this time," he says.

I hum. "Interesting. Should we go ahead and buy them or keep waiting for cheaper fares?"

"I don't think we'll find much cheaper fares than this, babe," he answers. "Let's just do it."

"We just did."

"You know what I mean. But I'm up for it again if you are." He waggles his eyebrows, and I nudge him with my shoulder.

"Whatever, McStamina. Let's just buy these tickets so I can call my mom and let her know."

I rub my eyes and lean back against the arm of the couch. "I'm so ready for this break." That's an understatement. My part-time job at the gallery has quickly turned into forty hours a week. But getting paid by the hour makes up for the technical part-time status. We're in the middle of planning the next opening, and the artist is…meticulous, to say the least. He gives new meaning to the term artistic temperament.

Edward buys the tickets and closes the laptop, setting it on the coffee table, then pulls my feet into his lap and rubs them. "That artist guy still giving you hell?"

"That feels so good," I murmur. "I wouldn't call it hell. Just a general distaste of my being alive."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as that," he says as he digs into my heel with his knuckles.

"Do you know that when we talked about lighting, he actually sighed, shook his head, and asked if I got my art degree from the College of Crayola?"

Edward chuckles. "He's an idiot. And he'll be out of your hair in a few weeks."

"I love you," I tell him on a sigh.

"I love you, too. Now how about calling your mom?"

Edward

As the saying goes, March rolls in like a lion, and I'm ready for it. Everything is set, and I'm finally going to meet Bella's mom. She's understandably nervous after not seeing her in over a year. But meeting more of Bella's family isn't the only reason I'm excited. I've regrouped and gotten my nerve back, and I plan to propose to her during the trip. I'd talked to Bella's dad before my first attempt, and when I called him again to tell him what happened, he laughed and said I got sick on purpose to get out of it. I let him in on my new plans, to which he said, "It's about time." He thought I'd do it right after I was well again, but I want it to be perfect.

It's now the second Friday of March, and we're flying out to California tomorrow. As I pack my bag, I think about the perfect place to ask the love of my life to marry me. There are plenty of touristy places we can go, but I don't want it to be generic.

I thought about a fancy dinner, but I don't want it to be too stuffy. I'm not planning anything elaborate, thinking maybe there was a reason the plans fell through the first time. I've decided to wait for what feels like the right moment. But I kind of hope that moment comes when we're somewhere cool. Like maybe the top of the ferris wheel at Santa Monica pier. Or during a moonlit walk on the beach. It's the sappy romantic part of me coming out. I can't help it. I grew up under the tutelage of Esme and Betty Cullen.

As I toss the last of my clothes into my suitcase, the front door slams, followed by Bella muttering to herself. I go to the living room to see her slinging her bag down in a chair and stomping to the kitchen. She continues to grumble unintelligible words as she bends over to look in the fridge.

"Bella?"

She jumps and puts a hand over her heart. "Oh! You scared me."

"Sorry. Everything okay?"

She groans and leans into my chest. "In the grand scheme of things, yes. Thank God the exhibit opens while I'm gone. I can't take much more of that man."

I kiss her on top of her head, and she goes back to the fridge and produces two beers.

"Drowning your sorrows?"

"Yes. Did you want one?"

"Are those both for you?" I ask, laughing.

"Absolutely."

"I might as well join you, then." I grab my own bottle and follow her out to the balcony off the living room. "Are you finished packing?"

Bella takes a long swig from the bottle and lets her head loll back against the deck chair. "Ugh. No. This would be much more pleasant if it were a simple vacation and I didn't have anything to worry about."

"It'll be fine," I say, giving her a quick kiss and taking a seat in the chair next to hers. "We'll have a blast. And we're not staying with your mom. You'll only see your mom when you want to."

"I know I'm being ridiculous. She's my mother. I keep telling myself it'll be fine once we get there." She chugs her beer, draining it long before I've finished one-third of mine.

"It will. Slow down there, alkie. You're gonna get a headache."

She shrugs but nurses her second beer slowly, visually relaxing as we talk. She tells me about her lunch with Angela and Jessica, and then sighs as the sun sinks over the horizon. "Guess I'd better finish packing."

"I'll help," I offer. "It'll go quicker, and we can have more time for...other activities later." I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she giggles, coming over to sit in my lap and kiss me sweetly.

"I love you. Once again, you've managed to help take my mind off things."

"Ever at your service, my love. Now let's get this packing over with."

Bella

Our flight to Los Angeles is so long. It's so boring. My legs are so cramped, and my back hurts. I'm grumpy and achey when we drive away from the airport. And I feel grimy. The closer we get to the hotel, the more I crave a hot shower and a massage.

"We're supposed to be at your mom's house at seven?" Edward asks as he steers the rental through busy downtown streets.

"Yeah."

He reaches over and squeezes my knee. "Bella, it's going to be fine."

"I feel so gross from that stupid plane."

Edward chuckles. "Look, we've got two hours until we have to leave. We'll just check in, take showers, and relax for a bit."

I settle back into my seat, placated by the promise of those couple of hours to pull myself together, but I bolt upright again when he turns into the hotel parking lot. "Are you sure we're at the right place?"

He looks over at me with a brilliant smile. "I'm positive. I got a great deal, and I wanted to surprise you."

Surprise is putting it mildly, I think as I eye the Roosevelt Hotel in downtown Hollywood, right on Hollywood Boulevard. "Are you sure?"

He opens his door to get out as the valet opens mine. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, it was a great deal."

I get out of the car with stars in my eyes. The valet greets me as another one takes our bags from the trunk. "Um, thanks," I say, too busy looking from left to right at all the sights I've seen on TV and in movies.

The lobby alone is—I can't think of any other word for it but grand. I imagine the likes of Clark Gable walking across the lobby, looking charming and dapper and making all the ladies swoon. I peek at Edward, picturing him in a 1940s-style suit and hat, strolling through the room and winking at glamorous screen sirens of the era.

Our room is equally as impressive. The balcony has a fabulous view. And the bathroom? As soon as I step inside, I shed my clothes and start the shower.

"Bella?" Edward calls, following me into the bathroom. He chuckles when I glance over my shoulder at him with a wicked grin. "Just couldn't wait, could you?"

I moan as the shower head and jets tend to my previously grumpy mood.

"That looks so good."

"It feels heavenly," I confirm.

"I was actually talking about the view."

I open my eyes and watch him through the clear shower door as he stands in the middle of the large bathroom, hands in his pockets, a lopsided grin on his face. God, he's gorgeous. I admire the view from where I stand as well. A glance down his body tells me just how much he appreciates his.

"Care to join me?" I ask, lathering soap into my hair.

"Please." There's a cool rush of air a second later as he steps into the spacious shower. Then his hands are on me, seemingly everywhere at once.

I put my hands on either side of his face. I don't think kissing him will ever get old. Instead, it's more intense every time. Edward pulls back and reaches for the soap, rubbing suds over himself as I condition and rinse my hair. We trade spots, and I help him get clean, feeling oh, so dirty myself.

After a quick romp in the huge bed and a little bit of downtime, I feel relaxed. "Sex hair," I mutter as I comb it out in front of the mirror.

"I like it," Edward says, placing a kiss on my bare shoulder.

"I'm sure you do. But somehow I don't think my mom would appreciate her daughter walking into her house looking…you know…"

"Freshly fucked?"

"Something like that." The rush of hot air from the hair dryer drowns out his snarky comment, and I stick my tongue out at him.

"Bella!" my mother shrieks when she opens her front door and wraps her arms around me tightly. "Oh, baby, I'm so happy to see you." I attempt to hug her back, but she squeezes me, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Hi, Mom," I squeak out.

"Let me look at you." She holds me at arm's length and surveys me from head to toe. "Beautiful as always. If not a bit thin."

She winks, and I feel self-conscious under her motherly scrutinization. "Mom, this is Edward," I say, gesturing to him and taking his hand in mine. "Edward, my mom, Reneé."

"Nice to meet you," he says with a prince charming smile, holding out his hand for a shake.

"Oh, we don't shake hands here," she informs him, throwing her arms around him. "It's lovely to meet you too, Edward. I have it on good authority that you've been very good to my Bella."

"I try," he says with a smirk that makes me want to simultaneously roll my eyes and lick his jaw.

Mom pulls me inside by the hand, and I grasp Edward's tighter. "Come in, come in. Phil and Alec have been dying to meet you."

We enter the living room, and a tall, good-looking man whom I assume is Phil stands from an armchair to hold his hand out to me. "Bella," he says in a clear, deep voice. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you in person." He's a handsome man with kind, blue eyes and strands of silver running through his brown hair. There's a comforting aura about him, and my shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.

"It's nice to meet you, too," I tell him honestly, taking his hand to shake it, but he pulls me in for a hug, too. He and Edward exchange pleasantries, and we sit in the living room and chat while my mother finishes dinner.

The front door opens and slams shut a while later, followed by a loud belch. A tall teenaged boy enters the living room and pauses, looking equal parts surprised and embarrassed. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry."

I giggle as I look up at the guy, who's a younger, mirror image of Phil.

"Language," says Phil. "Alec, this is Bella and Edward. Bella, meet your charming stepbrother."

"I really am sorry," Alec says with a sheepish grin, setting a bottle of Coke down on the coffee table. "It's good to see you."

"You too," I tell him honestly, shaking yet another hand.

"I have to go shower. Just finished baseball practice. Be back soon."

"How'd you do on that biology test?" Phil calls as Alec runs up the stairs.

"Got a B!" he yells back.

Phil nods and grins. "He's a good kid. Trust me, burping isn't his normal way of greeting people."

At dinner, we pass around salad and eggplant parmesan. I'm pleased to know my mom's still a vegetarian. Only because it's one thing I still know about her.

Afterward, we sit around in the living room after dinner with glasses of wine, and Mom does the infamous mom thing and brings out old photo albums, naked baby pictures and all. I cringe at some of the stories my mom tells about me, but it's only fair, I guess, since Edward endured the same just a few months ago.

"When she was sixteen, she came home crying one night because her boyfriend smoked a joint at a party. Then she said, 'At least it was just pot and not marijuana!'" She laughs so hard she can barely get the end of the story out. Tears stream down her face as I blush and scoff.

"You make me sound like such a prude! Dad was a cop, and I was sheltered. I didn't know anything about drugs." I can't help giggling in spite of myself.

Alec wears a smirk as he stares at me. "You didn't know pot and marijuana are the same thing?"

I shrug, embarrassed, and lean into Edward's side.

Mom wipes her eyes. "She was a good kid. I don't mean to make fun of you, honey. You were just so cute." She gets up to kiss me on the cheek and then sits beside me on the couch with her arm around my shoulders.

"Thanks, Mom."

"What do you kids have planned while you're here?" asks Phil.

"The touristy stuff," Edward answers. "Go to Santa Monica pier, see the old Hollywood sights. Maybe Universal Studios."

Phil gives us some pointers on how to get around the city, and Alec tells us about all the best restaurants and hangouts. Ten o'clock rolls around, and my eyes begin to feel heavy. I'm wiped from the day of travel combined with jet lag and two glasses of wine. Ten o'clock roll around, and we tell them goodbye and promise to come back the next evening.

Back at the hotel, I sink into bed blissfully after washing my face and shedding my clothes. Edward's arms go around me immediately, and he buries his nose in my hair.

"Feel better?"

"I don't know what I was expecting," I say, "but it was…good. Almost as soon as we stepped inside."

"Good. I know the buildup was hard."

I just nod as he runs his fingers up and down my; sleep takes over quickly, and I succumb to it eagerly.