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It was cold outside. Colder than usual.

Colder than usual but normal for fall. Also, Edward's heater didn't work properly.

We were in bed together. Edward was sitting up, leaning against the headboard and I was on his lap, my legs wrapped around him. If he'd been weaker this might not have been too pleasurable. His arms would be tired. But he wasn't weak, and it felt extraordinary.

Back and forth, back and forth, rocking slowly. He tipped my chin down, our mouths coalesced. So together; I nearly wanted to cry.

"What?" he whispered, catching the tail end of my expression.

I shook my head mutely and held on tighter, bowled over and baffled by the words marching themselves through my mind's eye: I think I love you.

Impossible.

"Talk to me," he sighed, his eyes closing. He tightened his grip, kissed my neck.

"You feel so good it hurts."

His sleepy, pretty green eyes drifted open. He smiled a little. "You look so good it hurts."

My throat closed up. "I'm serious."

He nodded, very serious now himself.

We'd been together for awhile now. I always felt so vulnerable with him and yet, he always made it easy to talk. For as quiet as we both were in general, as used to and appreciative of companionable silence as we both were, he tended to bring the words out of me. And I sensed I brought the words out of him, too. I could tell him anything. I felt compelled to.

I trusted him.

In the deepest, most serious way, I trusted him. With the non linear-ness of my thought patterns and the nuances of every feeling. It was like he was teaching me to peel back the layers of emotional armor I'd grown used to wearing for protection. Every day relationships; they wore on a girl. Having to look and act right, maintain, not wanting to upset things, wanting it all to go right with the guy. The game.

We all played it.

He and I had played it, the first time we'd met.

But it just wasn't necessary anymore. He'd already told me he wanted my thoughts.

So I gave them to him.

Well, most of them. Anything like I love you would have to wait. It would either fade away like the apparition it was or manifest itself as reality. At which point, I'd…judiciously… tell him.

The record stopped.

Tonight it was Journey.

I'd teased him when he'd first brought it out: one, it was vinyl and two it was Journey.

"This was my parent's generation, smartass," he'd smirked. "The good stuff never gets old… I was a kid when this song came out."

And it was true. It never got old. Being with him never got old.

But now the song was finished, the record had run its course, and was doing the skipping thing finished records did.

He buried his face in the place between my neck and my shoulder and thrust up rhythmically, abandoning our lazy pace for one with a purpose.

His hair was so soft against my cheek.

We were half way between sleep and wakefulness, lazy on a Sunday afternoon.

"I like when we do it face to face," I said, yawning. "Like today."

"I like it too," he agreed.

"I like when you're on top."

"I like when you're on top," he echoed.

I snorted. "You just like having my boobs in your face."

"Your boobs," he mimicked my tone, making me laugh. "Are perfect. But that's not the only reason. I can hold you closer when we fuck like that."

I sat up on my elbow, gazing down at his beautiful face, his beautiful mouth, thinking of all the beautiful things it did.

"Is that what we do?" I asked.

Those eyes, always so sleepy, flickered to me.

"I think we make love," I told him.

Now he snorted. "Make love. Okay. We can call it that."

Rolling my eyes, I swung a pillow at his face and lay back down.

A soft peal of laughter rang out from the living room.

I hadn't even heard the front door open and judging by Edward's face, neither had he.

"Edward, honey? You home?" It sounded like his mother.

He sat up quickly. I cringed beneath the blanket.

"Mom?" he called back.

Then heard another voice, shushing Edward's mother. "I think someone's here," she said, her whisper carrying.

Edward exhaled loudly, shoving his hand through his hair

"Gimme a minute," he all but yelled.

He got out of bed and into his jeans, pulling on a t-shirt on as he walked to the door.

"Should I stay here?"I asked, genuinely unsure.

"Get dressed," he said, nodding toward the door.

I slid to the floor and pulled my jeans and sweatshirt on, shivering because the cold wood floors made my feet freeze. I walked to where he waited and we went to the next room together.

I'd never met his mother. He looked something like her. His sister I remembered: Kate. She was the reason I knew Edward; we'd met at her birthday barbeque.

They looked surprised, but not offended.

In fact, his mother looked sheepish. She had two boxes of pizza in her arms, which she put down on to the coffee table. She held up a key.

"Sorry… I still have this. I didn't realize you had a guest."

"Mom, this is my girlfriend Bella. Bella, this is my mom, Esme. And you remember Kate, right?"

I nodded, trying not to get stuck on "girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking Esme's hand.

She smiled warmly at me, clasping my hand between both of hers. "Nice to meet you too, Bella. We'll have to have you both over for dinner soon."

I nodded and looked at Kate, who was barely suppressing an amused grin. "Hi, Kate."

She gave me a tiny wave. "Hey, Bella. How've you been?"

"Good. Thanks."

We stood awkwardly around until Edward tugged me to the couch, sitting.

"Let's eat."

A crinkle beneath my butt let me know I was probably crushing one of Edward's many blueprints. Shifting over, I pulled a long roll of paper, thin and rolled like a pell or scroll.

"Can I…"

"Go ahead," he said, nodding as he went back to chatting with his mother and Kate.

I unrolled the plan and gazed down at the picture. I didn't know anything about building and blueprints and things. I knew Edward worked hard doing the physical parts of construction but he also had an eye for designing plans like this one. I'd have to have him explain it to me later on.

I sucked in a sharp breath. It looked gorgeous.

Esme was extremely gracious and very easy to talk to. Kate was more reserved, a little like Edward actually, but not cold. They stayed for nearly an hour, until the pizza was gone, and then, as if they'd agreed telepathically, stood to leave.

"We'll let you two enjoy your night."

I blinked in surprise, my eyes going to the window. Just like that the day had faded; bring us into dusk before I'd even realized it was happening.

"All right, Mom. Thanks for the pizza," Edward said.

We walked them to the door.

"Any time. And, I'll call next time," Esme said, looking at me apologetically.

"You do that," Edward said right as I laughed softly, "it's okay."

"Bye, bro." Kate leaned forward and kissed Edward's cheek. "Bye, Bella. See you soon."

"Do they do that often?" I asked lowly, watching the two women get into a car and drive off.

"Uh… sometimes. Yeah. They like to feed me."

"That's good," I said, grinning up at him. "Because I can't cook for crap."

He pinched my butt, closing the door. "Well you'd better learn, little lady."

"Whatever. You like me anyway."

"I do like you anyway," he said, the silliness fading.

There were so many things I felt like saying. But it was cold, and the heater didn't work well in his house, and I wished we could just go back to his bed and curl up.

"Will you… show me your blueprint? The one I was looking at?"

He nodded. We went back to the couch and he tossed me a blanket to put over my legs.

"This," he began, unrolling the paper. "Is my house."

"When the Lights Go Down In the City"