Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight universe and characters. No infringement intended.

Chapter Four

EPOV

Promptly at 1pm, I dialed her number, already memorized, feeling both nervous and stupidly excited. I had spent the majority of the night too restless to sleep, but too worn out to actually do anything productive. Instead, I sat at my piano plinking out random notes, daydreaming about her. I still wanted to know everything about her; that hadn't changed. What had changed was the intensity I felt about her. Was it possible to feel this way about someone so suddenly? Everything about her drew me in. She was complicated yet honest, emotionally distant yet giving. She was quiet, but it was obvious that she was making an attempt to communicate with me. I was utterly transfixed with her. I wanted to know everything about her, and it freaked me out. I was a fucking wreck.

"Edward," she said, upon answering her phone.

"Bella, how are you?" I asked, pacing in my hallway.

"Meh."

I smiled at that, "Still want to do some grocery shopping?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll meet you in the lobby in how long?" I asked her.

"Uh...race," she said, and immediately hung up on me.

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant, but I grinned widely as I heard footsteps running from her living room to the hallway, and the door slam above. I ran for my door, quickly grabbing my keys from the table along the way. I heard her footsteps pounding down the stairwell and I exited my apartment, quickly locking my door. She had about two flights of a lead on me by the time I entered the stairwell, but I was determined to give her a run for her money.

I took the stairs three at a time, and by the time she reached the second floor, I could see her round the corner. I sped up, and by the time she hit the first floor we were almost neck and neck. She burst out of the stairwell and into the lobby with me right at her heels.

"Winner," she said, pointing at herself. "Loser," she said, pointing at me.

We laughed and I opened the door for her, and then lead the way to the parking lot. I turned back to see her checking me out, and while I was used to the attention from other women, this was the first time I was concerned about any sort of response. She brought her eyes up to mine and instead of blushing like I thought she would, she simply rolled her eyes. "It's an automatic reaction to look at someone in front of you. Don't make it personal."

I smiled at that, liking her straightforward way of talking. I teased her though and said, "You've still got to have an opinion."

She tilted her head at me and said flatly, "You're hot. You know it. That doesn't mean a thing."

"You're right," I agreed, stopping in my tracks. "It's nice to be appreciated, but if all anyone thinks about me as my looks, then that's a turn-off."

"Alice said you were unmoved by the women in town," she commented, "Is that why?"

"Alice said, huh?" I asked, not knowing how to answer her.

She waited patiently and we started walking towards my Volvo while I tried to formulate an answer, "I know that the women around here find me attractive. They are the same women who I went to kindergarten with, then grade school, and high school. You get the picture. It creeped me out when I discovered that much older women felt the same way. This is a small town. Even the high school girls now come to performances that I'm in, when I know they could give a shit about the content. Nobody takes the time to even want to get to know me, they just comment on my looks or the fact that the Cullens have money."

I walked with her to the passenger side of the door and opened it for her. As she sat down I leaned over and said, "I don't know why I am telling you this but here goes: I'd like it if you were attracted to me, physically. I certainly can't tell by your attitude or your response if you do or do not. That confuses me. And, I guess, it's also kind of exciting." For the first time in years, while I blurted all that shit out, I felt the redness creep up my neck, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

She looked up at me, noticed my sudden show of anxiety and suddenly touched me on the wrist, "Edward. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that." I was surprised when I heard her say, "I have trouble... talking about feelings… I'm not used to it. Whether or not I am attracted to you, it doesn't matter. I don't date. Ever. I'm not looking for anything, except for, I suppose, friendship. Everything else; I'm done all that, too." I couldn't breathe for a long moment, and she dropped my hand. I didn't know what to do, so I just walked around to my side of the car and got in.

I started up the car. "So, you're 'done'. Like done playing music and writing plays, and acting 'done'?"

She nodded, "Exactly."

I looked at her for a moment, and began driving towards the grocery store, "And if I ask why, you'll probably shut me out again, like last night?"

She sighed sadly, "Yes."

I suddenly had to pull the car over again. She didn't say anything when I leaned in closer to her to look into her dark brown eyes.

"Bella, you'd feel this way if anyone else pressured you in asking more than you can give right now, is that true?" I asked, wincing as she closed her eyes again before she answered.

"Yes," she breathed.

"And you are not telling me to stay away from you," I said, finding it hard to wait for an answer.

"No," she said.

"But you don't date. Ever. You will never go out on a date with anyone here," I clarified.

"Correct."

"But you want to be my... my friend?" I asked her.

"Please," she said, in a voice so low I could barely hear her.

"Then we are friends," I said calmly, and turned on my indicator to get back on the road.

"Good," she acknowledged.

"So, you are aware that friends often get together and share a meal. Every Tuesday night, we all bring over a dish at Emmett and Rose's apartment. Later, we play games or cards. Do you want to make something for it and join us?" I asked, holding my breath again.

"Okay," she said after mulling it over for a minute, and I already knew what she wanted to ask.

I grinned at her, "I usually just bring a case of beer. I'm not much of a cook. The purpose though, is to bring what you want to eat or drink, not necessarily impress the hell out of everyone."

We pulled into the grocery store and I asked, "Do you think we should get separate carts? I'm not shopping a whole lot."

She shook her head. I grabbed a cart from the corral, slid in a quarter, and started pushing it towards the entrance of the store.

We arrived in the produce area and I was amused to see her choices in food. She picked out mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic, potatoes and bananas and avoided everything else. I put a watermelon in my side of the cart, and got a bag of apples, a box of strawberries, and some oranges. We hit the isles idly, and I smiled as she dropped in mostly healthy food choices, but some pretty awful ones.

"Pop tarts? Twinkies? Cheez Whiz?" I questioned and grimaced as we hit the meat section and watched her pick out bologna, sausages and bacon.

She shook her head at me, "Be nice."

"But, Bella. That stuff is..."

She cut me off, "I won't go shopping with you next week if you finish that sentence."

That shut me up. I smiled and then made her laugh when I picked up a can of Spam and waved it in front of her. She elbowed me in the ribs and continued on shopping.

"So, just give me a second and I'll put this shit away," I said, letting us into my apartment.

We had already dropped off Bella's groceries at her place, and she had grabbed her messenger bag for our meeting. She had changed from her hoodie to a piped black bomber jacket that went well with the black long-sleeved t-shirt and cargo pants that she wore with her sneakers. I was a bit concerned about her all-black wardrobe, but knew better than to comment.

She stepped into my living room while I made quick work of sorting groceries into their proper places and she seemed amazed at my surroundings. I watched while she checked out my music and book collections that were stored on the floor to ceiling bookcases and shelves. I watched as she looked at the family photos that were stored in assorted frames and placed on end tables and on the walls of the room. She dropped to sit down on my black leather couch, marveling at the smoothness of it as she trailed a hand across the armrest. I watched as she looked at the stuff on my coffee table; pens and pencils in an old jam jar, sheet music, papers and magazines in several neat stacks, and converters to the flatscreen tv, stereo system, dvd/vcr players stored in a wooden box that Jasper made for me one Christmas.

"Orderly," she commented as she looked up to see me watching her.

It was my new habit, my new thing, to always check to see how she seemed to feel about things. I couldn't read her mind, and she wasn't going to voluntarily tell me anything, but I could gauge her reactions and store it all up for a later replay. I didn't miss the fact that she completely ignored my piano by the west windows. She gave it a wide berth, and I wanted to know why, but also knew there was no point in asking her. She looked over at me, and again, I caught her looking at me up and down. Watching her watch me was a little unnerving, but she didn't immediately avert her gaze.

She jumped suddenly, and I looked at her in alarm. She smiled apologetically and reached into her pocket for her cell phone. I pointed in the direction of my bedroom that she could escape to for some privacy and she smiled a thank-you at me as she walked by.

As I busied myself with putting away the last of the groceries, I only hoped that my bedroom was as tidied as I remembered.

She was only gone a few minutes when she came back into the bedroom looking agitated and distracted.

"Everything okay?" I asked calmly.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She grimaced and shook her head vehemently.

"You know, that offer for an available ear still stands," I reminded her.

"I'm generally a suffer-in-silence type," she said, actually looking at the ceiling rather than make contact with my eyes.

"Bella?" I asked, watching as she started pacing from left to right, still staring up in the air.

"Edward," she whispered, ceasing all movement.

I wasn't expecting it at all, but was pleased when she finally started speaking.

"It was someone from back home calling. Checking to see if I was all right," she told me.

"Was that the same person who called you yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"And what did you say?" I asked, watching as she slowly started to pace again.

"I reminded my friend of his promise," she said shortly.

"What did he promise you?" I asked her, conflicted.

I wanted to know and I didn't want to know. We had made a wrong turn somehow, and she had just mentioned that her friend was a 'he' and 'friend' could mean so many things. My heart was pounding uncontrollably and again I couldn't fathom how one person could become so important to me in less than 24 hours.

"He promised he wasn't going to keep checking up on me."

"Why would you make him promise something like that?" I asked her, totally confused.

"I can't keep having him checking up on me anymore. I'm done that, too."

"Why would he check up on you?"

She exhaled a long breath and said, "Edward. I'm done talking. I… I'd rather not continue this, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," I lied, watching to see what her next move was.

Unsurprisingly, she started towards the door.

"Hey," I said as she put her hand on the door knob, "We have about an hour before work. Let's go down for some coffee."

She hesitated for almost a minute. I could see the indecision in her eyes, and could also see her slowly turning the doorknob to open it. I was relieved when she let go, and waited for me to gather my things.

We walked down the hallway in silence, and the elevator ride seemed extremely long. However, as soon as the door slid open to the lobby, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

"I love the smell of this place," she murmured, breathing in deeply and closing her eyes.

I led her to the cafe area, tugging at her sleeve, and began to make a fresh pot of coffee. I looked into the fridge, "There's some brownies in here, and also a slice of pie."

"Mmmm, brownie please," she sighed, still with her eyes closed.

I put a couple on a plate and while the coffee was percolating, I wandered over by the fireplace and sat down on one of the couches. She followed me and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Rosalie seemed surprised that you would meet up at the pub last night," she said, from out of nowhere.

"I don't usually go," I admitted.

"Why not?"

"I usually keep to myself," I explained.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"What does everyone do for fun around here?"

I shrugged, "I could give you a printout, it's that common. Monday nights everyone hangs out at the pub. Tuesdays is dinner and wii at Rosalie's and Emmett's, Wednesdays is Open Mic Nights at The Black Sow, Thursdays is poker night at Alice and Jasper's, Friday night is Dance night at Sublime, Saturday is Seattle road trip, and Sundays are family night dinner at my parents' house. The schedule is pretty firm. They don't usually miss a night."

"'They' and not you?"

"No. Not usually," I told her.

"I thought there would be an Edward evening listed, too," she smiled.

"Nope, sorry," I said, liking that she was trying to tease me.

"So what do you do when everyone else is following the plan?"

"You're looking at it. I come down and make coffee and sit by the fire, maybe read a bit. I load up my ipod and work out on the eliptical when its raining, and if it isn't I'll hit one of the trails. I play my piano, and I google shit on the internet. I'm pretty boring."

"Boring isn't bad," she said, suddenly fascinated with fireplace.

I stood up and went and got us some coffee. I used cream and sugar in hers and she nodded approvingly. I sat back down beside her, and she took a bite of her brownie. She closed her eyes again and said, "I don't know why I'm talking to you."

"I'm glad that you are talking to me," I told her, watching as she closed her eyes tighter while she inched further away from me.

"I... I..." she stammered and then froze up.

"I just moved back here six months ago," I blurted, not wanting her to bolt.

"What?" she asked, her brown eyes opening wide.

"Yeah. I originally went out east to med school, but dropped out. I went to London for a bit and then played some gigs on the Europe circuit with a bunch of buddies, and wound up in Chicago, playing piano for a dinner club. I only moved back this past fall when Alice couldn't line up a decent replacement after our sound technician retired."

"I try not to go out too much," she offered after a pause, "I really like beer, but I hate the bullshit that goes with me getting too drunk."

"Yeah, me too," I said, surprised, "I think I can get quite addicted to going out and drinking and all that other shit, but I refuse to get into it again."

"I'm often a hypocrite," she confided, "I say a lot of stuff, but then go ahead and do it anyway."

"I have a lot of obsessive-compulsive habits. I really need to have things done a certain way."

"I'm messy as all hell."

"I like gossip magazines."

"I talk in my sleep."

"I shower a lot."

She burst out laughing. "How much is a lot?"

"At least 3 times a day."

"That's not a lot. Or maybe it is. I don't know. I usually shower once in the morning to wake up, once if I hit the gym, and once before I go to bed," she said, pondering.

"I hate doing laundry," I said.

"I hate doing dishes."

"I love cereal."

"I could eat eggs every day."

"I can't stop smoking."

"I hate my hair."

"Your hair is absolutely gorgeous," I told her, shocked.

She rolled her eyes, "It goes all frizzy in the humidity, and it's too thick. I want to cut it short again."

"Again?" I asked, trying to imagine her with short hair but failing.

"Yeah. I only started growing it out because of all the different types of hair dye I had on it," she said.

"I hate my hair color," I admitted, "I wish I could just dye it one solid color but Alice says she'd kill me if I changed it."

"Your hair is fuckawesome," she said honestly, "It's the first thing I noticed about you, followed closely by your eyes. I can't even tell what color they are. Yesterday they looked blue, but today they look green."

I smiled slowly, unable to respond. I finally had confirmation that the attraction was not just one-sided.

"Mom calls them his chameleon eyes," Alice said, smiling at the two of us.

Bella looked up in surprise, to see Alice and Jasper standing nearby, along with Emmett and Rosalie.

"Hmm," she said, and already I could sense her drawing away from me.

She stood up, and reached for her bag, and went to collect our plates and cups.

"I got it, Bella," I said, touching her arm. "Why don't you head on over with the others and I'll meet you there? I forgot I had to go out to the hardware store first."

She nodded and joined my brothers and sisters. Alice gave me an apologetic look as I began tidying up our dishes and she led the way across to the theatre. Bella looked back at me, and flashed me a brief and awkward smile before the lobby doors shut closed between us.

A/N Thanks for reading and wanting to keep up to date with it.