Playlist: Your Body is a Wonderland by John Mayer

Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: Fame and fortune.

Chapter 7

I head into my dark house, not even fazed by my depressing family drama. I'm still high off of Bella's hand in mine. I hold my own up to smell it and, sure enough, sweet vanilla invades my senses. When I drop it and lift my head, I spot a pair of eyes staring at me from the dinner table.

"Dad? What? Why are you sitting in the dark?" I flip the switch and scan the table, which is filled with food, pots and pans, and place settings.

"Where have you been?"

"I had dinner at Katie's. Mom invited me."

"I have been waiting here for over an hour, and now the food's cold and everything's ruined."

"I'm sorry; I didn't know. We haven't eaten together in a while."

"That's why I made us dinner."

"You should have—"

"Forget it." Dad stands up and strolls past me without a second glance.

I tiptoe behind him toward my room, but before I get there he whips around to face me.

"I work hard everyday, busting my ass for this family, and nobody cares. I came home early tonight, I cleaned the kitchen, I made your favorite—tuna noodle casserole—and you couldn't even be here."

"Tuna noodle casserole is Garrett's favorite. I had no idea you wanted me home. I can't do something you want unless you tell me about it."

"I'm telling you now, dammit! I want your butt sitting at the dinner table at seven every night, you got it!" His cheeks are red, his eyes narrow. I haven't seen him this angry since Garrett accidentally punched Mom when he was aiming for Katie. He got locked out of the house for that one.

"I get it. Okay. I'll be here. You don't have to yell at me."

"I just . . ." He drops his chin and tugs fitfully at his hair. It looks wild like mine, a tangled mess.

"I know."

"I miss my family," Dad admits. He's sincere, and it's sad.

"You miss Mom. I miss Mom."

"I do miss your mother, but, Edward, I miss you and Katie and Garrett, too."

"Well, then do something about it," I say.

Dad shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his slacks. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

"Okay, you want me to clean up?"

"Just . . . leave it. I don't care."

I shrug, and he turns into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I sit on my bed finishing a short English assignment, but all I can think about is the strange fight with my dad. I text Bella on impulse, needing someone to talk to.

My Dad's losing it. –E

I finish a few lines of my paper and then get a response.

Good. He should be. But I'm sorry you're having to deal with it. You okay? –B

Not really. I hit send and wonder if that was the right thing to say. I worry about my words so much lately. I never know what will set her or anyone else off.

You want me to come over? –B

My heart slams in my chest. She wants to come over? She's suggesting it. Hell, yes, I want her to come over.

Yes. Backdoor in two. –E

I change into my PJs quickly, so I can be more comfortable and find, when I open my door, she's done the same. I smile at her monkey boxers—my monkey boxers—and try not to say anything stupid like is that a banana in your pants, or are you just happy to see me? Because A. that's immature, and B. she's a girl and doesn't have a banana. Dumb. I could gain fame and fortune if I wrote a bad joke book for ten year olds. They'd love it. If engineering doesn't pan out, I could go that route.

We move quietly into my bedroom and slip inside undetected. There aren't restrictions on Bella's visits, but I don't want to upset Dad about anything else.

Bella saunters to my bed. She caps my pen and stacks my book and papers before placing them on my small desk. She sits back against the wall and tucks her hands between her double red-striped, tube-socked feet. I wish I had a camera in my room to capture her there. Her simplicity is beautiful, and the way she fits on my bed and in the mess of my stuff makes me feel tight in my stomach.

"Your house smells good," she says.

"Dad made dinner," I say with a frown.

"Oh no. Poor Carlisle. He can't catch a break."

"Like father, like son," I say and sit beside Bella, slumping on the same pillow that rests behind her. "Remember when our family went with yours to the lake for that fishing thing?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling and looking at me. Her grin lights up her face, and I want to touch her, hold her, so I do. I slip my hand in hers again, this time feeling the curves of her fingers.

"My Dad was so mad when he made that fish and no one would eat it," I say, snickering.

"It was terrible. I don't even know what he could've done to have made it so awful."

We giggle side by side at the memory, her body wiggling next to mine, and I'm bombarded with memories of Bella here in my bed doing this same thing—talking and laughing, being with me, but this is different. Because the truth is out now, and it creates an ache in my heart. I want this to be what it used to be, plus more.

I hold her hand to my chest and cover it with my other. I wish she could feel the beat of my heart and know it's for her, know that she's the reason I'm getting through any of this.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, voice soft and comforting.

"No, just having you here is good."

"You want to talk about us?"

I roll to my side, and she rolls with me since I'm holding her hand hostage. We're face to face, her hair falling into her eyes. She brushes it away and looks down, away from my eyes. I want to tip her chin toward me and draw her into a kiss, but I don't. Instead, I say, "Yeah. Let's talk about us."

"You asked me about Jake. Why I'm kissing him." I nod but keep my mouth closed. "I'm kissing him because he deserves it."

"He deserves it? You're not an award for good behavior or something."

"Just listen, okay? Don't judge."

I stay silent while she explains that she was volunteering to help out the football players. She was icing knees and bandaging scrapes, and Jake twisted his ankle during a rough play. She cleaned him up, wrapped his ankle, and the two spent the rest of the season on the sidelines talking while everyone played. Where I was during all of this, I don't know. But I suppose Friday nights are generally reserved for girlfriends if you have one, and I did.

"He put in the time, the effort, he's nice and funny and cute, and he wants to know everything about me. It's nice to be around someone who's interested." Her honesty, while appreciated, hits my ego a bit. I don't want to hear about how great Jake is. I want to hear about how great I am, but I'm not going to tell her that. That's selfish.

"I'm interested," I say quietly.

"I like him. There's nothing about him that I don't like." There's something in her eyes that catches my attention, so I call her on it.

"There's always something. There has to be some problem."

"He's not you," she says, her big brown eyes on mine.

"I like that problem," I admit openly.

Bella laughs and tilts her head up to the ceiling. Her neck calls out to me, and I can't stand it so I stroke her soft skin there. Her breathing becomes heavier, and she speaks in stutters as I continue to touch her.

"These stars are . . . they're so old. You should," she swallows thickly, and I sweep her hair from her neck and up the pillow, "take them down."

"I don't want to," I say and lean in to get a closer look as my finger swirls around beneath her earlobe. "They remind me of you. So much reminds me of you. Socks," I say, stroking the outside of her calf up to her thigh. "And ratty old boxers." I slide my hand across her stomach, and she shudders beneath my light touch. "And sports bras," I say, running my hand across her shoulder to discover there's nothing there but the soft cotton of her t-shirt. I tug at the collar of her shirt with a crooked finger and ask, "Can I kiss you here?"

"Yes," she whispers.

I place my hand on her waist and lean in kissing her neck and following down to her shoulder, exposing skin as I go. I smooth gentle kisses over her collarbone and breathe her in. I nuzzle my head into her neck when I'm done because I don't want to push her.

Bella places her hand on my stomach as my muscles contract involuntarily, begging her to touch more.

"You're killing me here," I mumble into her neck. She doesn't say anything, but she circles my belly button over the fabric of my shirt. "Are you feeling this? What we have?"

"For years, Edward." She peeks up at me and smiles softly.

"How did I miss it? I'm so dumb."

She bites her lip and tries not to laugh.

"I've missed out on so much. I mean," I pull her shirt to the side again, exposing her shoulder, "look at all these freckles I could've been kissing." I give each one a peck, and Bella giggles at my silliness. But it's true. I want to kiss every damn freckle on her body.

I notice one on her thigh and am so tempted, but I resist the urge by wrapping my arm around her and tucking her into my side. "Could you maybe just think about not kissing Jake anymore?"

She takes a deep breath. "I owe him a chance; I'm going to give it to him."

That is not what I want to hear. Not at all, so I throw Jake under the bus. "You know he lied about his ankle."

"I know."

"You know? And you let him get away with it? You kicked me in the shins when you found out I missed that game 'cause I wanted to see Iron Man in three-d."

"Yeah, and you deserved it. Your team needed you. What Jake did was sweet. What he did was for me."

"I could do stuff for you," I blurt without thinking.

"Like what?" she asks, all innocence.

A flirtatious smirk takes shape on my face as I think about all the things I've learned over the years I know she'd enjoy. We could both enjoy them. Together.

I give her waist a little squeeze. What I said finally registers, and her eyes go wide. "Edward, oh my gosh!" She grabs hold of my t-shirt and laughs into my chest. Her shyness is adorable. And I can't wait until I can help her get over it.

A/N: Well, this was a good week for me in Fandom Land. Kassiah flailed on The Fictionators about Never Said I Didn't (because, you know, it's high school), it was in The Lemonade Stand Nursery, and now it's on the poll. Go vote for your favorite fic today! Link is on my profile!

Thank you for all your alerts, favorites, and reviews. This is fun for me, so I hope it's fun for you, too!