AN: Hey guys! Sorry for my long break. Just want to say, I appreciate the reviews so much! Here we goooo!

"Bella," James trailed off, obviously scared of what was to come out of my mouth.

"Well, you know how you told me to call you if I ever needed something," I started off, grinning like a madwoman at the sheer genius of my idea, "I need a place to crash for a bit, and I was wondering if I can sleep at Western Bloc?"

There was silence on the other line and I bit my lip. I crossed my fingers and prayed to god. I am not usually a religious person but when the situation calls for it, I'm open to suggestions.

"Bella, honey, look. Did you think about this? Bloc is a dance club, not a hotel. I care about you Bella, but that is a bit absurd," James said tentatively. I bet he still remembered our run-in this morning. But how could he reject me like this? Fuck. I should have known.

I was seeing red. Everything was a red blob and James was the biggest blob of them all.

I took a deep breath to calm down. "Fine. I understand, but I was hoping for a different reply." I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was about to end the call when James shouted for me to stop.

"I'll look into it, honey. I'm sorry that I can't let you stay at Bloc, but some of my employees are looking for a roommate. I know that's not your ideal circumstance, but I trust all my employees to take care of you if need be," James said.

"Thanks, James. I don't know how I could ever repay you," I said. James was a good guy.

/

I spent the rest of the day packing up my stuff. I filled a suitcase with my clothes and filled another with the rest of my belongings. It's funny how I went from floating on cloud nine to living out of a suitcase.

My cell rang and I sucked in a breath when I didn't recognize the number. I picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello?" the voice on the other line was a bit fuzzy.

"Are you in a place with bad reception?" I asked.

"What? Are you Bella?"

"Yes, why?"

"James told…you need a place to stay…a bit. I didn't want to pry but…your current situation. I…can stay at my flat. The…is 1 Irving Place…Union Square."

"Uh, thanks. You mind if I come over tonight?"

"No problem at…" Then the line went dead. I stared at my Blackberry for a while. I shook my head a bit and then I gripped the handles of my cases and walked out the door without looking back. I had no reason to.

/

I took a taxi to 1 Irving Place and arrived at Zekendorf. Or Zekondirf or something like that. I walked into the lobby hesitantly. I still didn't know what to believe any more. The lobby was decorated extravagantly, with plush velvet couched plotted randomly across the marble tiled floor with two ornate chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling.

I stepped in and craned my neck all around to see mystery employee. From the far end of the waiting room, somebody began to walk toward me.

I put on my best smile and couldn't help but let it falter when I saw who it was.

/

Sometimes I think fate is fucking with us. She's laughing at us from the high heavens as she watches our jaws drop.

Once, at the supermarket, I went to grab at the last can of peas. I was planning on putting the whole can into my specialty pasta.

Until clawed hands gripped my hand in a vice hold. Her nails were painted hot pink. I looked up to tell her to fuck off when she dug her fucking nails into my hand. I stared past her granny glasses into her beady eyes and shoved her away and made a grab at the can.

I'll spare you the details, but that day ended with me banned from that chain of supermarket, nearly $3000 in fines, and miraculously a can a peas.

A month later, I walk into the first class of my freshman year of college with a bounce in my step and the determination to learn, when I see a flash of hot pink and granny glasses that looked all too familiar.

She smiled sinisterly at me and I noticed there was a shell of a pea on her front tooth.

/

A feeling of nausea overcame me as the bastard stranger walked toward me. I cursed myself when my eyes trailed over his long legs and past his hard chest and over his gorgeous face.

His mouth was a thin line. I saw that he forced himself to smile as he extended his hand. "I'm Edward Masen. Nice to meet you. James told me so much about you." His eyes were cold, calculating.

I wasn't going to take his bullshit. "Is this a fucking joke? I'm going to call James to make other arrangements," I huffed.

He grimaced. "That won't be necessary. I was the only one with the means to take on a roommate, if this is what it is, and James is halfway to Sacramento by now to take care of his sick mother, so sorry, you're stuck with me."

I really wanted to punch something. "Fuck! This is shit you know. I know I'm in a desperate situation, but this is…fuck!" Bastard went to grab my suitcases. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?

"Well, you're making a scene and I think it's better if I get you settled in quickly," he looked at me with pleading eyes, finally a change from the usual hate emanating from them.

He led the way and I followed against my will. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I might as well enjoy the view and I stared at his ass as he walked swiftly across the lobby.

Bastard opened the apartment door and turned on the lights. He rubbed a hand over his face and opened a door a few steps into his apartment and dumped my suitcases into that room.

"That will be your room. The bathroom is down that hall on the left. My room is right across." And with that he left. I sighed and walked into my new room, resigned. I sat on the bed and looked around.

It was a nice apartment from what I could see with thick crème-colored carpet lining the floor, the kind of carpet you could stand on with your bare feet and feel yourself sink into the floor a few millimeters. The walls were a dark red color, almost black. I saw that off to the side was an entrance with western-styled doors that swung open and closed either ways to what I assumed was a kitchen and living room.

My room was a pretty large room with the same color theme as the apartment with the bed I was sitting on dominating most of the space. It was a beautiful four-poster bed and the bed sheets were crisp cotton. There was a closet and a dresser and a desk, but not much else, but I guess it was as good as can be considering what bastard did for me on such short notice.

Bastard. Edward Masen. Bastard. Edward Masen. Bastard. Edward.

I was pondering over what to call him. I didn't want to and set off diligently to unpack my suitcases. I put all my clothes into the closet and went to drop my stuff off in the bathroom. I almost walked into Edward's room but caught myself at the last moment and went left into the bathroom. In my old apartment, my bathroom was on the right side of the hallway and my room on the left.

I turned the lights on and almost choked when I saw the shower with the jets coming at you from nine different angles. I always wanted a shower like that. Now that was a fucking shower. And then I saw the Jacuzzi bath and choked again. It was big enough to fit at least five people. I was torn between wanting to take a bath and wanting taking a shower.

I almost choked again when I saw a scattered array of condoms on the marble sink top. Was he like a man whore? Oh shit, what if he was a sex addict? Or what if he was into bondage and chains? And he's going to be bringing men here to this apartment.

Shit. Shit. I am not ready for this. I quickly found an empty drawer and dumped my stuff in there while shielding my eyes all under 15 seconds, a pretty amazing feat if you ask me.

I walked back to my new room like a convicted man to the gallows. I sat down and thought. You know, really thought about everything. I thought about Edward.

So what if he was a man-whore. Or was into S&M. Or probably be banging men not 10 feet away from me. At least he was responsible and used condoms, right? And I couldn't stay mad at him forever. I actually was happy Edward gave me a place to stay.

I smiled and marched to the kitchen to make my new flat mate the best dinner of his life. And since I was so nice, I would make enough so there would be leftovers.

/

An hour later, after getting familiar with the new kitchen, and wrestling with a huge pile of dirty dishes (I'm guessing Edward preferred takeout) I had the eggplant lasagna setting in the oven, eggplant pasta on the small kitchen table, and the white wine chilled and ready to go. For some reason, there seemed to be an abundance of eggplants in the fridge. I needed to investigate on that.

I was still busy with the lasagna when Edward ventured from his room to the kitchen with his nose in the air. He sniffed and looked around. My face was hard set, as I knew I wasn't upset with him or anything like that, but I still wasn't sure if I forgave him yet.

"Wow, I'm liking this already: good food in exchange for a room," he said finally, obviously amused with my hard work.

"Who said my food was good? It's great," I countered. It doesn't take a genius to figure out I'm a kick-ass cook.

"I'm hungry. Let's dig in, shall we, Cook?" he said. He smiled crookedly at me and stared at me for a split second longer than expected and abruptly turned to pour the wine.

At that point, I was creeped out. I hope James knew what he doing when he trapped me to survive in Edward's lair. But instead of showing my panic, I faced the lasagna once more and hummed a tune.

Over from the table, Edward asked, "Hey Bells, I'm going to put some music on. I hope you like 70s music," and promptly began playing Wild Cherry.

"Unbelievable, you are such a kid E-man," I said before shaking my head and smiling at myself.

"E-man? Really?" he asked.

He probably thought I was referring to him in a hip but superior way, but he was yet to find out what it really meant. I just shook my head and grinned before taking the hot lasagna out of the ancient oven and put it gently on the middle of the table.

Then I grazed my finger on the hot pan.

I did a hoppy dance to stop myself from crying out. I hated burns.

Edward immediately paused the song that was playing and rushed over. He gently lifted up my hand and inspected my injured finger before slowly blowing on it. He concentrated on my finger and blew cool air on it to soothe it. When he looked up to see my reaction, I saw that his eyes were now soft and concerned. I smiled at him before saying, "Thanks, now play that funky music white boy."

He got up, hip checked me and went to start the music again.

We sat down and did a small toast, "To happy room mates." And then he dug in. Literally.

Edward ate the lasagna and pasta like a life long vegetarian who finally realized how good meat was at an all-you-can-eat steak buffet.

I ate my fill and just watched Edward eat up, and I was glad I found another happy critic. I was still smiling at him when he looked up, finished with his meal.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he asked.

"Well, because you look ridiculous with pasta sauce all over your mouth," I replied.

He quickly grabbed a napkin and rubbed at his lip as I sipped my wine and laughed.

"Where? Is it gone?" He looked at me quickly, still rubbing away.

"No, it's still there." So I reached across the table and took the napkin from him and wiped it off. He looked at me and I felt scorched at how intensely he was looking at me. I was about to tell him the stop before he spoke.

"Thanks, I guess," he said before drowning down the rest of the wine. "I have some stronger stuff, if you want?" He didn't even wait for an answer as he went to the bottom cabinet and grabbed the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

He walked into the next room and I followed him over. He was standing on the couch and waved the bottle of tequila at me and smiled as he motioned for me to sit down.

I sat on the couch next him and poured the shots. The couch shifted when he grabbed a glass. He said, "Cheers," before taking it back and drinking it in one big gulp. He barely winced, and I was a bit ashamed to say that it didn't burn too bad for me either.

"Why did you let me stay so readily?" I was curious. I probably wouldn't have done the same thing as Edward if I was in his shoes.

"It's nothing. I had an extra room and James asked me for a favor." He covered his eyes and sagged back onto the couch.

"Yeah, but you barely know me," I said. "I don't think I would have done the same thing as you and I was just wondering…I want to know." I didn't want to press further and I certainly didn't want to bring up the other night, when you know.

He sighed. "I know it seems…strange. Well I never told anyone, but you are as good as anybody to know. But just hear me out for now, alrite?" He was half mumbling to himself now.

"I guess it all comes back to my dad. My glorious dad. My wonderful dad. I should be proud to call him my dad. I have no choice to follow in his footsteps, of course, everyone would say. Such a great doctor. I should want to be exactly like him. Well, I didn't want to be a doctor. I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to be the best teacher in the world. I don't know why exactly, but something in me just comes to life when a kid answers a problem right or pours his soul into writing a story about a talking tiger and his adventures.

"He gave me an ultimatum, you know. He said 'You want to become a teacher? Fine by me. But you will have no access to my funds or my home. I want you to leave this house and learn what it is to be a teacher, living on practically nothing!' That was when I was 17 years old. My mom and sister wept as I packed my cases and left."

He paused and drank straight from the bottle and passed it on to me. I took a long swig.

"I was young and naïve. So naïve. After a month, I was broke and I sold most of my possessions to buy food. A month, Bella!" I cringed because I barely lasted a week.

"It was raining when I met James at Bloc. He took me in like his own, ironic since he will never have any children. For no reason, he funded my college education. I got a teaching degree because of him. He gave me clothes, food, shelter. Something my damn father should have provided me but didn't. I work at Bloc to repay James for everything that he did for me. I know I won't be able to pay him back, but I'll be eternally grateful for him. I'll do anything he asks, and until he says so, you'll have a room here."

He finished it off with a healthy swig of tequila. I reciprocated. The bottle was empty.

"Wow." It was the only thing I could say. "Thanks, Edward. For everything. For telling me." I hugged him tightly and he carefully wrapped his arms around me. I tried to process all he told me.

He stood up after a while and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.

"I think I'll go to sleep now." He tiredly walked to the bathroom. I heard the door close. Then I heard a groan. I ran to the bathroom to see if Edward was okay, and flung the door open. He stood staring at the array of condoms on the sink counter with a horrified look on his face.

"Oh hell, this isn't what it looks like," Edward said.

"You don't have to make excuses Edward. I'm not here to make judgments." I tried to pick my words carefully.

"Fuck my life," he said. He sighed and ran his hand through his wild hair.

I thought back to my life, let out a short laugh, and said, "You took the words right out of my mouth."

AN: I like this chapter. If you think so too, tell me!