A/N: Thanks for reading. I cherish the reviews.

Question for my readers: Do any of you pay attention to song rec's for chapters? I did a song for each chapter of AMS but I'm not sure if that's annoying or helpful or even if anyone pays attention to it. Let me know in a review or PM. There are so many chapters that have been helped along with thanks to a song but if it's annoying, I won't go there. See how much control you (yes...you!) have over me? Damn.

Softragoo, I want to hump your leg. Thanks for pre-reading.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all characters.

Chapter Four

I learned several interesting facts about Emily and Sam over dinner.

Sammy was a couple months shy of being three and he loved all trains. Whenever he heard the word, he let out a loud "Choo! Choo!" that sent all of us into a heap of giggles. Sammy was below the normal range for speech, according to the Pediatrician at the free clinic downtown. Rose had contacted the county who was supposed to call to set up an appointment for an evaluation. No one had called and Rose said it was because of the area they lived in—bitterly spitting out that they thought people in low income areas were lost causes. I was sure that wasn't the case but Rose was adamant about society not giving two cents about where her children ended up unless it was in their front yards.

Emily was ten and wanted to grow up to be a martial arts expert and a part time dancer for music videos on the weekends. She had a crush on Justin Bieber and her favorite subject in school was English.

"I was an English major in college," I told Emily.

Her smile beamed from across the table and Rose looked interested. Rose had let me in on a very personal part of her life—she was going on a gut feeling that I was a good person. I wanted to give something back, in terms of information about my life. Proving her right was something I was determined to do; hopefully she was right and that my presence wouldn't cause problems for them in the future.

"I bet you read all kinds of cool books," she said.

"You like to read?" She grinned and nodded. "Did you know that I work in a book store?"

"You do?" She looked at me as if I had just told her that I put on wings and fly to work every morning.

"Yep—you should come down to the store someday and pick you out a book," I told her then added, "My treat."

"Where'd you go to school?" Rose asked.

I cleared my throat of a piece of chicken. "University of Washington in Seattle."

She grinned then said, "So, you really are from Seattle."

"Yeah, I really am," I replied with a grin.

The door to the apartment opened and I tensed at the unexpected sound. Rose was unfazed so apparently she had been expecting someone.

"Hey!" Edward called out. "I got your note—what is so important that you needed me over here right after…"

His voice trailed off as he entered the kitchen and spotted me sitting at the table. Suddenly, I'd lost my appetite as I dropped my gaze to my plate. I set my fork down and my hands went to my lap.

"Uh…what's with the note?" By the pitch of his voice, I could tell his eyes were still directed at me.

"Just thought you'd like to have dinner with us," Rose answered. "I didn't know you were going to be a freaking hour late getting home."

I peeked up and he was frowning at her. "I always work until seven on Wednesdays, Rosalie."

"I can't keep track of your schedule," she mumbled.

He sighed. "Well, at least I can have dinner, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, he unzipped his overalls and tied the limp sleeves around his waist. Through his thin white t-shirt, the muscles in his back flexed and released as he opened a cupboard door. His bicep bulged as he grabbed a plate and set it on the counter. The hair was a madhouse. I wondered if he ever shaved down to the skin. The white t-shirt had a tiny hole over his left shoulder blade and I could make out a dot of pale skin.

I couldn't look away.

When Edward was looking at me, I couldn't bear it: His eyes tense and full of what could only be described as passion. It felt like he could find out anything he wanted by just glaring and asking. But when his back was turned and his thoughts otherwise occupied, I was mesmerized by the way he carried himself, the way his body moved, and how he was oblivious to the tension he brought with him.

"What were you saying, Bella?" Rose's voice broke me from my trance. It was a good thing because the little hole in Edward's shirt was starting to take on shapes: First a dog, then a ladybug and lastly, a turtle.

When I made eye contact with Rose, she had a knowing smirk on her face. She had caught me staring. Internally, I grimaced because it was clear that these two had no secrets between them. I had wanted to see what Edward's deal was; what his relationship with their family entailed but now, I couldn't. It would appear that I was checking him out and asking about him would certainly not help my argument that I wasn't. I absolutely wasn't. At all.

"Uh…what was I saying?"

"You're an English Lit. Major," she offered. "So you grew up in Seattle?"

Now this was a conundrum. I never wanted to lie to Rose but now that Edward—whom I trusted as far as I could throw—was here, I didn't want to share. I knew nothing about Edward except he was a friend of this family. Honestly, I didn't know Rose well enough to know that she didn't keep dishonest friends. If anyone found out where I came from, all it would take would be a phone call and the police would be at my door. Disappearing from sight wasn't illegal but it had legal ramifications. Millions of dollars were possibly being spent on searching for my whereabouts, especially with my Dad in charge. No stone would be left unturned.

It wasn't the law I was afraid of nor was it the millions of dollars I would probably owe. James would know where I was and my entire family would be in jeopardy if I didn't obey him. I'd be back in Oklahoma before I could say "psychopath".

"I grew up close to Seattle," I explained.

Rose narrowed her eyes a little. Edward sat down by Emily who was making some sort of fortress out of her mashed potatoes complete with a broccoli tower.

"Hey squirt, if you aren't going to eat those, give 'em to me," Edward said. He leaned over and destroyed her fortress by loading up his fork with her potatoes.

"Mom," she whined. "Edward took my food!"

Rose rolled her eyes. "It's like having three kids."

Sammy squealed as if he just noticed Edward's presence. Edward tweaked Sammy's nose, making a funny noise as he did it. Sammy ate it up and slammed his hand excitedly onto his plate. Food went everywhere.

"Oh disgusting!" Emily squealed. "It's in my eyebrows!"

"It's just mashed potatoes, Emily," Rose said calmly. "You just ingested it, how is it disgusting?"

"What's ingested mean?" she asked as Rose wiped her down with a towel.

"It means that you just ate it," Rose explained.

Edward continued to shovel food into his mouth, even though there was a green bean in his hair and several gobs of potatoes on his shirt. I faired just the same, finding a couple green beans in my own hair and some additional stuff on my sleeve. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of us, covered in food. Sammy obviously thought it was great because he repeated the palm-slam move and additional food flew around the kitchen like a bomb had exploded.

"Bella, could you take that plate away so he doesn't do it again," Rose asked, calmly. "Edward, could you take a few precious moments away from your food to help me get Emily cleaned up before she has some sort of attack?"

"I'm eating!" Edward said around a mouthful of chicken.

"I'm not going to have an attack!" Emily shouted and then added, "This is disgusting! We shouldn't even let him eat at the dinner table with us!"

"Are you talking about Edward or Sammy?" Rose mumbled.

As I moved the plate from Sammy's reach, my giggles turned into laughter. The green bean in Edward's hair was too much; I lost it. Somewhere between the table and the sink, I was bent over in unladylike guffaws.

"I'm glad you think it's funny," Rose said as she started her own giggling. "I'm the one who has to clean this shhh…crap up."

"I'll help you," Edward chimed in. I could hear the smile in his voice. "It's not like I'm going to leave you to do it by yourself."

When I was finished laughing, I sighed heavily and clutched onto my abdomen which ached. I hadn't used my stomach muscles for laughing in such a long time. Laughing had been something I'd done on occasion to make James happy but it was never actual laughter. That was something that I hadn't done since I spent a weekend on my Dad's couch in Forks and we watched a marathon of Naked Gun movies.

Rose took Emily and Sam to the bedroom to clean them up. I grabbed the kitchen towel and let warm water run over it, my brain still on a natural high from laughing. When I was wringing out the wet towel, a large hand reached out and took the rag from me. My muscles tensed and I froze but there was no flinching—a drastic improvement.

"I'll get it," he said. "You're a guest and guests shouldn't be responsible for cleaning the kitchen."

"I don't mind," I told him. "It would make me feel like I earned the food Rose made."

He was quiet. I peeked up at him and he looked puzzled.

"You're not a stray puppy, you know," he murmured. "It wasn't like you showed up on her doorstep, wagging your tail and begging for scraps."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and kept silent.

Then Edward emitted a noise—a mixture of a laugh and a snort. "Or maybe you did…I wasn't here when you showed up."

After several seconds of trying to fight it, I grinned up at him. The hardness in his eyes was gone and he almost looked carefree as a smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth. His eyes bounced in different directions but each of his marks was located on my face: My eyes, my nose, one cheek then the other. Something bubbled in my belly and my knees wobbled. Damn, he made me nervous…

Edward groaned and mumbled something as he turned toward the mess on the table. Unable to stop myself, I started clearing the table and searching for plastic containers for the leftovers. He looked my way a few times but didn't reprimand me for helping.

By the time Rose had wandered back out, she was childless and the kitchen was spotless. She marveled at the clean table and the lack of dishes in the sink.

"Both kids in bed?" Edward asked.

She yawned and nodded. "They wear me the fuck out."

"Tell Em that I'll be over tomorrow night for more lessons."

"Okay," she replied. "Can you still watch them tomorrow night? I have to be at work at seven."

He sighed. "What else do I have to do?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you actually had some sort of life. You're always bitching about having to be over here."

After rolling his eyes dramatically, he said, "Whatever."

"I should get going," I announced.

They both turned to me and blinked as if they'd forgotten I was there. The three seconds of silence that followed was remarkably awkward.

"You don't have to go," Rose said. "That was a yawn for dramatic purposes. Usually, when I'm off work, I don't go to bed until midnight. Come on, stay and we can watch TV."

I nodded, thinking that I'd give it an hour and call it a night. The truth was, I was pretty tired and the past couple of nights I'd given myself nine hours in bed in case I couldn't sleep. The past night I'd gone without nightmares but I was sure they would return with a vengeance.

"Well, I do have to go," Edward said.

Rose opened her mouth to protest but he shot her a look. It was a look that I would have cowered at but she defied him with a lift of an eyebrow.

"Nice to see you again, Bella," he said, lifting a hand in a wave. He leaned down and kissed Rose on the cheek. "Night, Rosalie—behave yourself."

"See ya," I told him and gave him a lame finger wave.

After Edward left, we sat on the couch and Rose tossed a Little Debbie in my lap. She shrugged and told me that it was desert. I moaned as I took a bite and Rose snickered.

"You don't look like you've had many of those," she said. "Given my job, I shouldn't be having one of these."

"What do you do?" I asked, feigning ignorance. Assuming never got me far in life so it wasn't what I was about to do with her job. She could be a waitress at one of those all night diners, for all I knew. Maybe they cleaned their uniforms at the restaurant. Perhaps, Rose just liked thongs and leather skirts—possibly, they were comfortable to sleep in.

"I'm a stripper."

Or maybe she was a stripper.

"You don't look shocked or appalled," she noted.

"I did your laundry, remember?" I said, grinning.

"Oh, right, thanks for that by the way," she said, quietly. "I owe you one."

"I think you just paid me back with dinner! Besides, your underwear puts mine to shame."

She threw her head back and laughed. "It's the perks of the job. Good pay, groping hands and fabric up the crack of your ass all night. What else could you ask for in a job?"

"Do you like it?" I asked.

Her expression grew taut. "No girl likes working at a strip club," she said then added, "At least not any girl who strips for Kapowksi."

I furrowed my brow. "Kapowski?"

"He owns a few bars in town, mostly just night clubs but he also owns The Red Hornet, where I work. It's a classy joint, for a strip club, but he's ruthless."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned forward. "Let's just say that we have weekly weigh-ins and surprise physicals. They find cellulite? You're gone. Stretch marks? Good riddance. The money is…well, I couldn't survive if I didn't work there three days a week. It puts food on my table and clothes on my kids' backs but I don't feel honorable about cashing my checks."

"God, that's awful," I murmured. "I bet that makes Emmett feel horrible—knowing that you're working there."

She leaned back into the plush of the couch and shrugged a shoulder. "He doesn't know and by the time he gets out, I'll be long gone from there. If he knew, he'd cause a fucking riot."

I wished there was some way I could help her. There had to be other things she could do besides something she loathed. But Rose didn't want sympathy or help. She had survival instincts that I lacked and I envied her determination to provide for her family. Going to this job and doing what she does is like second nature for her, simply because she does what she has to do. It made the dinner I'd just ate taste so much better, knowing that Rose had sacrificed to put it on the table.

"Where did you say you grew up again?" she asked.

With a sigh, I resigned to tell Rose about as much as I could. I started with my youth, telling stories of campfires with my parents and long rainy days inside, reading. Then I moved on to my parents' divorce when I was a freshman in high school and my mom's subsequent move to Arizona. I'd only seen her twice since then—once at my graduation from high school and then next at my college graduation. We weren't close but I didn't hold any animosity toward her. She had her life and I had mine.

I tried to talk about my dad with the least amount of emotion I could but my efforts were fruitless. My voice cracked as I spoke of the way he could squeeze a confession out of me with just a look or make my heart swell with just the slight uprising of the corner of his mouth. He wasn't a man who wore his heart on his sleeve but I knew that he'd do anything I asked of him: Point to hot coals and tell him to walk and he'd ask me where he should put his shoes.

Damn. I missed him and it was obvious.

"When was the last time you saw him?" she asked.

I cleared my throat and blinked, hoping that it appeared that I was trying to think when really I was trying to compose my emotions.

"Uh…almost a year ago," I muttered.

Her eyes widened. "Where have you been for the past year?"

I couldn't answer that—not yet—and I wouldn't lie to her so I just pressed my lips together and stared at the carpet. There was less stains on hers and I found myself envious of the clean floor.

"You can trust us, you know," she said then let out a throaty laugh. "For Christ sake, my husband is in prison! If you are…wanted or whatever, we wouldn't turn you in."

My throat made a gulping noise as I swallowed. "I just…can't…not right now, Rose."

"Can you answer me one thing?"

Her request seemed simple in words but it was more complex than she would ever realize. No matter what her question was, it wouldn't be easy to form a reply. I nodded anyway and looked into her eyes.

"Are you in danger?"

For a moment, the whole scene was ridiculous. It almost seemed that she cared about me—someone she barely knew. Paranoia sprung into my mind and I wondered for a moment, just what she wanted from me. What did she get out of my presence in her life? A whole lot of trouble, that was certain, and I had a feeling she knew it. Why did she care if I was in danger? And the answer was clear as soon as one side of my brain silently asked the other. She was being protective of her family; if I was a risk to their safety, then she would want to eliminate me—not in a "say hello to my little friend" sort of elimination but in the call the Authorities sort of way.

I lied as I shook my head then let out a shaky laugh. "I certainly hope not."

With hope, I'd pulled the act off but something in her eyes told me that she was calling bullshit on me. I was thankful that she didn't voice the accusation to my face because I'd end up sputtering in tears and blurting out my entire life story.

"Just so you know, Edward wouldn't hurt a fly," said then added, "unless the fly was out to harm someone in his family."

"I...I never thought that…"

Rose rolled her eyes as I stuttered. "Emily told me what happened the other night when you were over here. She said that you looked sick when he grabbed her and started tickling her. I told her that maybe the ice cream had upset your stomach and she agreed but that isn't what happened was it?" I stared at her, unwilling to answer. "We are his family, Bella. The reason that he even lives in Chicago is because we are here."

"You're his only family?"

Her lip curled up into a slight sneer. "The only family that gives a damn about him, yeah."

"Are you blood related?"

"Does that really matter?" she asked, grinning.

I shook my head and replied, "Not at all. I just wondered what…how he is connected with you and the kids."

She shifted on the couch and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. The scar along her jaw came into view as her hair fell over the opposite shoulder. "I'm not going to go into details because that's Edward's story to tell. He's a good friend of Emmett's and he feels like he owes him to take care of us until he's released."

It was good to know that Edward seemed like a nice guy but I'd seen the fire in his eyes. The image of him pulling back his fist and crushing me in the gut was too easy to visualize. It also wasn't hard to come up with my own conclusion as to where Edward met Emmett. I respected that Rose wanted Edward to tell his own story but from what she told me, it wasn't difficult to realize that they had met in prison.

Edward was an ex-con.

I left Rose's apartment on a good note—a promise to have a girl's night out together so that we could both have a little fun. The intention to do so was admirable but I doubted I'd ever gather the courage to actually follow through with it.

My secrets were still secrets as I lay my head down on my pillow that night but I didn't feel exactly right about it. Rose had shared a lot with me and I was disappointed in myself that I couldn't trust her more. She was patient and understanding and she seemed to understand that my past would have to be kept bottled up inside my own skull.

When I finally fell asleep, my dreams took a different route this time. My typical nightmare was more like a flash back: James incorporating pain and humiliation into my everyday life. This time, James was no where to be seen. A new set of eyes seared into me, turning me raw as his gaze went from my ankles to my forehead. His hands curled around my arms and his strength pushed my body wherever he wanted me to be. Broken bones. Bruised flesh. Angry words. They came from Edward in my dream that night.

I woke up in a cold sweat, the sound of pounding at my front door. It wasn't light yet but the sun was slowly creeping its way into the sky. Grayish light filtered in through the curtains. My entire body ached as if the dream had reached through my subconscious and snapped my ribs. A shudder ran down my spine as I turned my legs to get out of bed.

More pounding. I groaned then started. Who could possibly be pounding on my door at—I looked at my wind up clock, blinking away the fogginess of sleep—five thirty in the morning? I jerked on a pair of jeans and pulled on a t-shirt. If it were James, he wouldn't have knocked. It wasn't Rose. Her knocks were tiny taps with the sharp points of her knuckles. Unless she was in trouble. My feet sped up to reach the door.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Uh…it's Jake," said a deep voice through the wood. "I heard you screaming through the wall and I thought you might be in trouble."

I closed my eyes in relief. "Uh…I had a bad dream but I'm okay."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to see you for myself."

My face scrunched up. "What?"

"How do I know there's not some maniac putting a gun to your head, making you tell me that you're all right?"

I put my forehead against the door and groaned. "I promise you that I'm okay."

"He could be forcing you to say that, too," he countered.

"How do I know that you aren't some maniac trying to get me to open my door so that you can take advantage?" I asked, grinning at my reply.

There was silence for a moment. "Hmm…" he said. "Good point."

"I'm seriously okay," I told him. "Thank you for checking on me."

"I'm still not convinced," he replied. "How about if you come out here so that I can see for myself that you're fine; that was some God-awful screaming I heard a few minutes ago."

"Oh, for God's sake," I grumbled and tore open the door. "I'm good…see?"

I patted my hands up and down my body as if I would reveal any possible wounds or hidden gunmen by doing so. He looked me up and down—teetering slightly on each breast—then over my shoulder into my apartment. When his eyes met mine, mischief sparkled in his pupils. "Honey, you certainly are good."

Then he was gone, stomping along the hallway and into his own apartment. I barely noticed that he was in his underwear—bright blue and bikini style. Each buttock flexed in turn with his stride. He gave me a wink before he disappeared through the doorway. I couldn't help but grin at my neighbor. He was scary just the night before but now…now, he was playful and actually seemed concerned. There wasn't a hint of malice in his voice or his eyes but that didn't stop my mind from playing an image of him backhanding me into a corner. He could do it so easily—like batting away an annoying fly.

After the nightmare and catching sight of Jake in his underwear, there was no way I'd be able to go back to sleep. With legs that felt like concrete, I dragged myself into the kitchen and put the coffee pot on. The shower felt good—too good. I almost dozed off with my forehead against the slick, cold tile but the feel of warm turning to cold pulled me out of it. I needed a boost—something that would snap me out of it, at least for a few hours. My eyes lit up when I thought about the little coffee shop that sat a couple blocks away from Blossom's Bookshelf. I had to endure the torture of smelling the freshly ground coffee and fresh baked pastries as I passed it every morning on my way to work. I decided that I would treat myself and Esme to a fancy coffee drink and a muffin. It really wasn't in my budget but I solidified my decision by remembering the several times Esme had stopped in the past two weeks and brought me coffee.

I left half an hour early, and found myself locking my door at the same time that Edward was coming out of his. The baggy, gray overalls swishing with the movement of his hands to turn his own lock and his eyes swollen from sleep. The hair was a lost cause, and the black boots on his feet were humongous. There was no hint of ink; all of it was hidden by the maintenance uniform. I found myself wondering what exactly was so important to him that he got it permanently etched on his body. There wasn't one thing I could think of that would lead me to get a tattoo except for my social security number so that they could ID my body. How depressing is that?

My eyes met Edward's and sudden flashes of my nightmare assaulted my brain. I snapped my gaze to the floor, rudely and kept walking.

"You off to work?" he asked. The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the short hallway. A baby cried upstairs and a woman shouted something—hopefully not at the baby.

"Yeah," I said, looking over my shoulder. My eyes glanced at the small triangle of white t-shirt that poked out of the collar of the overalls. "I have to stop and get coffee so I left a little early."

"Ah. Yes, the important things in life always seem to inconvenience us," he joked.

I giggled a little louder than necessary. It was only a dream, I kept telling myself, only a dream.

"Do you walk to work, too?" I asked.

"You walk to work?" he asked, incredulously. I nodded and we stepped off the front porch of the building, side by side. "I thought that you took the bus."

"The bus makes me nervous. I almost feel trapped on the bus. I'd rather have free will to take whatever path I want to work—on foot," I told him. "Why don't you take the bus?"

He was silent for so long that I glanced at his face. There was a hint of amusement laced with shock written on his upturned lips and raised eyebrows.

"What?" I asked.

My shoulder bumped his bicep and I found myself feeling uneasy. What if he'd been watching for me to leave my apartment? We'd never left at the same time before. I gave myself a mental shake because I was running a half hour early. There was no reason for Edward to watch for me to leave. All those horrible things he had said and all those fists to the gut had been only a dream. Rose had vouched for his character the night before and I had begun to trust Rose…a little. She wouldn't send me off with a wolf in sheep's clothing. Well, in Edward's case, it would be a wolf in wolf's clothing.

Why was I walking with him again?

"Nothing," he replied. "I don't like the bus, either."

An uncomfortable silence passed, the only sound was the uneven breath being forced out of my mouth and our shoes hitting the concrete sidewalk.

"You walk this way, too?" I asked.

He grinned. "Obviously."

I rolled my eyes a little. "And here I thought you might be playing the part of a gentleman."

He scoffed and chuckled before replying, "That will be the last time you mistake me for a gentleman, Bella."

I quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "So, you don't walk old ladies across the street or throw your jacket over mud puddles for your girlfriends?"

"Well, first of all, if I tried to escort an old lady across the street, she'd mistake me for a crook and end up beating me over the head with her purse full of quarters. Had it happen once—it hurt.

"Second, I own one jacket and I have yet to meet a girl who I care enough about to get that jacket dirty." I was taken aback and told him so with wide eyes. He tilted his head and smirked. "Leather is a bitch to get clean. You have to send it away to get dry cleaned and all that shit. It's a lengthy process when it's the only one you've got and it's ten below outside."

I sighed. "I suppose you have a point but I bet your jacket would go in a puddle in a heartbeat for Rose."

He shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "It's not like that with Rosalie. She's the type of girl who would make a game out of stepping in puddles. Toughest woman I've ever met."

"She is pretty great." I couldn't help the weakness in my tone that hinted at my lack of trust in my friendship with Rose.

"I know it doesn't mean a lot coming from me but…" He stopped talking and narrowed his eyes at the path ahead of us. "Keep your head down and walk close to me, put your purse between us."

Three guys that could only be described as thugs hovered over the sidewalk. All of them had folded bandanas wrapped around their foreheads. All three were short but stocky and all six eyes were focused on the two of us walking toward them. I hadn't noticed them since I'd been caught up the conversation.

I did as Edward said and my hip found his thigh. My muscles tensed and suddenly the thought of coffee or anything else edible made me want to lurch behind a bush. They were fifteen feet ahead of us, keeping still, when I suggested to Edward that we cross the street to avoid them.

"That'll turn us into a fucking target," he mumbled.

Slowly, but casually, he lifted his arm and put it around my shoulders. Heat radiated through his layers of clothing and pulsated onto the skin of my neck. I thought I might faint. Or vomit. Or both. He could feel the tension in my body as he pulled me closer to him, our bodies joined at the sides as if we had known each other for months, years even.

"Relax, Bella, you'll be fine," he mumbled.

Ten feet away.

"I don't feel like I'm going to be fine."

His chest rumbled against my ear. Was he laughing?

Five feet away and one of them—the one with a dirty, blonde goatee and ripped leather pants—met my eyes and smirked. I knew it was the wrong thing to do, but I couldn't help it. I jerked my eyes away, admitting fear and weakness, and pasted my gaze to my feet in front of me.

Edward slowed down, leaned toward me and his hot breath tickled my ear. My stomach tightened with fear. "Pretend I just said something really fucking funny."

I didn't skip a beat. A bark of laughter left my mouth and even I flinched at the sudden sound of it. Somewhere, Edward was laughing along with me and I felt him tugging me closer to him. The arm that was around my shoulder swept across my back and snaked around my waist; my laugh changed pitch with the movement but I kept giggling as if my life depended on it. When my laughter sounded eerily similar to sobbing, I calmed down.

"Told you," he said, smiling, "Right as rain."

The hand that was splayed across my ribcage loosened its hold and slowly made its way over my back. Then he was no longer touching me. I was cold even though it was already in the low eighties. My teeth chattered and I crossed my arms over my chest as we continued toward the city.

"You okay?" he asked, softly.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to stop freaking out. Nothing had happened. "I'm fine."

He let out a grunt of disbelief.

When we made it to the coffee shop, I pointed it out and told him that I was stopping there before going to the bookshop. After the adrenaline rush I'd had a few minutes prior, the coffee seemed unnecessary. However, adrenaline was kept on a short leash and my system would flush it out shortly. What I needed was something strong and magical: An espresso.

"Let me buy you breakfast," I told him, "To show my gratitude for walking me here."

"I was walking this way anyway, remember?"

I sighed and wondered if I should tell him that I thought he saved me that morning. If I had come across those guys, blocking my path, and I had been by myself, I would have turned around and walked home. Humiliated by my own fear, I would have called Esme and pretended to be sick. Then I'd sit at home all day, imagining what each one of those guys was capable of doing with just his bare hands.

"Please?"

He waved me off. "Nah, I'm good."

"I'll have to owe you, then."

A sneer curled up his lip. "You wouldn't owe me anything; like I said, I was going this way anyway."

"I can be really annoying when I feel indebted to someone. Pestering is like second nature to me, especially when it comes to showing gratitude," I pulled at my bottom lip with my teeth, trying to hide a mischievous grin.

"Anyone would have done…I didn't do anything," he said.

"I know! I'll make you a cake! What's your favorite?" He opened his mouth to turn the cake down but I cut him off. "Or I get your leather jacket dry cleaned. I'm also hell with a vacuum cleaner. Need anything vacuumed?"

He puffed out his cheeks with air then said, "I like just regular black coffee; none of that fancy shit."

"Doughnut?"

"It's not…" I raised my eyebrows and he reconsidered with a tight smile. "Any pastry will do just fine."

Five minutes later, I was handing him his coffee and a small bag containing a piece of lemon pound cake. He took a sip and I waited for a reaction but there was none.

He walked with me until I reached Blossom's and he stared down the steps that lead underneath the building where the shop was located.

"That's where you work?" he asked.

"Yep," I replied. "I'm really lucky that I found it. Esme, the owner, is one of the most amazing people that I've ever met. She hired me the day that she met me, right off the street."

I felt myself blush. It was obvious that my brush with death, as I referred to it in my head, had made me more comfortable with Edward since I couldn't seem to shut up.

"Hmph," he responded and took a sip of coffee. "Well, have a good one. Maybe I'll see you over at Rosalie's sometime."

As I watched him walk away, I was terrified to admit that I hoped I'd run into him sooner, rather than later.

A/N: I don't know much about "thugs". I hope I don't offend any self-proclaimed "thugs". If you are reading fanfiction and you claim to be a "thug", I highly suggest re-examining your "thug" status. J/S.

So what does everyone think of Edward? Reviews make me want to drink Espresso and stay up all night writing. *hint hint*