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"When I was little I wanted a winged horse," I said, gazing out the window as we climbed higher and higher into the Berkeley Hills. "A white one."

"I'll bet you wanted to be a princess too," Edward chuckled, his hand leaving my knee momentarily so he could switch gears.

"I did, but not the kind who lives in a castle. Not… you know. Medieval." I closed my eyes, remembering. "I was obsessed with Greek and Roman myths. My dad gave me this book of stories with the most amazing illustrations when I was learning to read – "

"Greek mythology for a toddler? What happened to Dr. Seuss?"

"Shush," I laughed. "Listen. So anyway, he had to read it to me, obviously, but after a while I began recognizing the words and stories. I still have that book."

"So you wanted to be a princess from ancient Rome or Greece."

"Basically. I still love those dresses…"

"Bed sheets?"

"Stop pretending to be uncultured. I've seen the historical architectural digests and tomes and crap. I know you're well versed."

"Feisty."

I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window, hiding my smile. I knew what he was doing: teasing me so that I wouldn't be too nervous about going to meet his parents. Surprisingly, I wasn't as anxious as I thought I'd be, but I wasn't completely calm either. I guess I had butterflies, and not the romantic kind.

"You played with My Little Pony, didn't you..."

I looked back at him, a deep belly laugh bubbling up through my gut. "Why?"

"They had little Pegasus ponies…"

"How do you even know that?" I gasped, cracking up at the thought of Edward playing with tiny pastel girl toys.

"Two sisters, Bella," he said, sighing exaggeratedly. "Keep up, now."

"Oh, okay. Yeah. I had Windy Wisp and Crystal Princess."

"I'm going to act like it's normal for you to remember those names."

"It is."

Edward pulled into a hidden driveway suddenly. "Well, just so you know, I'll be your minotaur anytime."

"Eww," I giggled. "They're creepy and gross. Why can't you be my Greek god?"

"What, your Adonis?" he cooed, turning off the truck.

"You look like an Adonis," I admitted, blushing as I unbuckled my seat belt.

"Now that's creepy and gross. That guy was a douche," he teased, grabbing me before I got out of the cab. "Hey."

"What?"

"C'mere."

"You c'mere."

He yanked me close and kissed me good.

"Minotaur. Tonight," he whispered, winking pervily as he let go.

Yeah, no. That wasn't happening.

The Cullen's home was incredible, built right on the side of the mountain so that it overlooked the bridges way off in the distance. The house was split level, spacious and open with lots of windows and sky lights. Plants everywhere. Lots of wood.

"This is what I want my house to look like," Edward said after he'd let us in.

I thought it was kind of weird that we didn't just ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer it, but whatever. Come to think of it, Esme Cullen had barged right into Edward's house that one time too. Must be a family tradition.

"Mom," Edward called, motioning for me to follow him.

"In here," she called back.

We followed the scent of something mouth watering into the kitchen, which was of course state of the art and gorgeous.

"Hi honey," she said, tiptoeing so that she could kiss Edward. "Hi, Bella. I'm so glad you finally made it up."

"Oh, sure. I'm… I'm really glad you invited me. Thank you."

She smiled, waving her hand. "We've been telling Edward to bring you forever."

I gave him a questioning look. He just shook his head slightly. "Dad home yet?"

"He's on his way. I asked him to pick up another bottle of wine. You like red, right Bella?"

"Sure."

"She prefers white," Edward said, leaning against the counter.

"No, it's fine," I protested, a tiny bit embarrassed. Esme seemed pretty mellow, and I didn't want her thinking I was finicky.

Esme retrieved a bottle of white from what I presumed was a wine cooler. "It's fine. I like white myself."

She poured us each a glass and then got a chilled pilsner from the freezer for Edward, even opening it for him. I thought it was funny; he didn't seem the type to need doting but, thinking of my own mother, that didn't stop a mom from doing it.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Sure. Listen, dinner's going to be another fifteen minutes or so. Why don't you show Bella around a bit?"

"Why didn't you tell me she'd wanted me?" I asked once we were in the next room.

"What?"

"That they wanted me to come sooner?"

"I didn't want to scare you off," he said, sipping his beer.

I frowned. "I thought guys were usually the ones afraid to meet the parents."

"My dad's a pain. We'll be here all night listening to his rambling and lofty pontificating."

"Um…okay? I thought he was a psychiatrist."

He shrugged. "He is. That's what he does... discuss, dissect, question, answer... when he finds out you go to Berkeley – like he did –you'll be in for it."

"Don't make me look forward to this so much," I said, making a face.

"He means well enough. I'm just giving you a heads up; he can be a little long winded and pretentious."

Everything Edward wasn't. I doubted this was a coincidence.

"Do you get along with your father?"

"I do, actually, yes. But I didn't always. My mother and Riley used to have to referee."

I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

He pulled me along, nodding toward the living room, and then the dining room as we strolled.

"I'm all for feeding your head, but he's an academic snob. It gets old. My mother's just as educated as he is but she doesn't feel the need to showcase it every chance she gets."

"I like your Mom," I said, going to look out one of the windows in the study we'd walked in to.

"She likes you too."

"Yeah?" I asked, a little relieved. "I'm glad."

He nodded.

"So…"

"My dad's not that bad. Just remember if he starts to feel you out that he does this to everybody. "

We walked down the hall and into another room.

"This was my room, many moons ago."

It looked like a guest room now, classy but generic.

"My dad wanted me to be a head doctor, follow in his footsteps and all that."

I shrugged. "That's common enough."

"Yeah, it is. "

We were quiet awhile. I poked around, looking at a painting on the wall above the bed.

"I'm glad you brought me."

"Me too." His hand brushed my arm, briefly, purposely. "You had to meet 'em eventually."

I nodded, looking out one of the windows, imagining Edward as a teenager, coming home past curfew and throwing parties when his parents were out of town.

There was a distant thump; the front door. His father was home.

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Edward said, clasping my hand.

I wondered absently if it was for his benefit or mine.