A/N: Can I just say that I have the best readers in the fandom... Srsly. You guys inspire me, make me laugh, make me dance, make me emit strange excitable noises that I didn't think was possible whilst fully clothed...you guys ROCK!

I'm on Facebook as Missy J. Jones (previously known as Msj Fanfic). Also, FF is being a goob and made links on everyone's profile inactive so any links that were previously on my profile page no longer work. Just FYI...

Thanks to my pre-reader, Softragoo, whom I'd consider marrying if we both weren't already taken.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight

Chapter Sixteen

I chose carefully out of my pathetic wardrobe. Wearing anything but a dress to church wasn't possible for me since I'd grown up in a very posh place of worship where old ladies put on their Sunday best and you were frowned upon if you didn't. That left me two choices: The first was a black wrap around dress that made me look like was going to a funeral and the second was a blue sleeveless number with a deep v-neck that I'd bought on a whim that if by chance, I got the guts to go out with Rose one night. I went with the former, since I figured most churches frowned upon cleavage. For my shoes, I chose black flats because I'd be on my feet at the homeless shelter. To add a little color, I pulled on a blue sweater that I'd gotten at the thrift store when I'd gone on my first round of clothes shopping when I moved to Chicago.

With a swift carefulness, I put on some eye makeup and a tad bit of lip gloss. Blush was tricky because not enough was pointless but too much would make me feel self conscious. With a decisive toss into my makeup bag, I decided that blush wouldn't be on the agenda. I had enough of my own natural blush to keep me from looking sickly and all I had to do was refresh my memory on shirtless Edward to get my cheeks to cooperate.

After I dried my hair, I pulled it up into a high, short ponytail. I looked twelve. I pulled my hair back out and fluffed it with my fingers, hoping to instantly age myself. It worked. With fluffed up hair and eyeliner on, I looked fifty.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself as I glanced at the clock on the wall in Edward's bathroom. I had exactly two minutes to pull myself together and walk out the door. Why was this so hard? It had never been hard before Oklahoma. I simply did what felt comfortable and walked out the door without a second thought. The present day Bella was uncomfortable in her own skin and paranoid; two things that led to disaster no matter where I was going.

I pulled my hair up again and pressed my lips together. Last minute, I added a little blush. Too much. I cursed softly to myself and rubbed my cheeks with wet fingers until my skin was red and blotchy.

"You almost ready?" Edward asked through the bathroom door.

I groaned and dried my cheeks with some toilet paper. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

He started to talk as I opened the door to see him standing on the other side.

"You don't have to go if you—"

My eyes widened as he looked me up and down then back up again. His silence was deafening. I rubbed my fingers over my cheeks self-consciously. "What?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, staring at my legs which were bare from the knee down. "Are you ready?"

"I don't look too…you know?"

He finally met my eyes. "You look great...really, really great."

I let myself breath and my muscles relaxed with his comment. "You look pretty good yourself."

Edward was wearing a black button up dress shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He stuck with the black boots but they looked nicer than the ones he wore to work. The scruff on his chin was even as if he'd ran an electric razor over it. The hair was hopeless. I'd grown accustomed to the hair and even found myself looking forward to seeing which way it would sway from one day to the next. It had its own personality.

"I need to get it cut," he mumbled, his eyes shifting up toward his scalp. He ran a hand through it and it reacted violently, moving in opposite directions from the glide of his hand. "I just haven't had time to get anywhere."

"I could cut it," I offered.

He narrowed a skeptical eye at me.

"I used to cut my dad's hair."

"I'll think about it."

"You're awful protective of that hair of yours," I said as we pulled on our coats. "The style is pretty easy to swing no matter how it's cut so I don't know what your drawbacks are on letting me near it with a pair of scissors."

"How would you cut it?

"Just a trim."

He shut the door behind me and locked it. "We'll see."

After we got into his car, he turned the engine over and then it sputtered out. He frowned at the steering wheel.

"Maybe we should take the bus," I suggested.

He directed his frown at me before stroking the dashboard with his fingertips and mumbling in baby talk to his car. I rolled my eyes and bit back a grin. He turned the engine over again and the car roared to life as he pressed the gas a few times to get the engine going steady.

"She takes offense to faithless comments such as that," he told me as he shifted into reverse.

"Yeah, well, I'm offended that every appliance, vehicle, or tool has a female gender according to men. My dad always called his boat a 'she'. Why is that?"

Edward shrugged. "It just doesn't feel right…calling an inanimate object a 'he'. I would think it would be a compliment."

"Do you think it would be a compliment if I called my hair dryer a 'he'? Or what about my tampons? Are they just a bunch of guys hanging out in a cardboard box, waiting to be used?"

I expected him to fidget, maybe tug at his hair and turn a little red at the mention of feminine products. Instead, he smirked and looked at me slyly.

"I think the hair dryer thing has promise but if you were to put a male gender on your tampons, I might have a problem."

"Why?" I asked with raised eyebrows. "Because you'd think I was crazy?"

His smirk grew into a smile as he winked at me. "No, because I'd be jealous."

I fidgeted, pulled at my ponytail and turned red. Then through a tight frown, I hissed, "We're going to church for God's sake."

"You sound like an old fuddy duddy," he teased.

"I do not."

"Yeah, ya do."

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to smile. "I'm so going to call my tampons 'he's'. Maybe, I'll even name them, just to piss you off."

"I think the name Harry has a ring to it; or what about Thomas…Thomas the tampon?" He laughed at himself.

"Oh my God," I sighed, "this conversation is ridiculous."

He laughed. The sound of it made the entire confrontation worth it.

"You started it," he accused.

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, ya did."

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the church. The building was huge and it looked nothing like the small white church in Forks that I'd gone to when I was younger. The architecture was modern and kids played on a playground in front, even though the wind was bitter cold.

We walked in and I followed Edward to a counter where people were catching up with each other and shaking hands with the people they didn't know. On the counter were three large coffee pots behind a sign that read "Free coffee. Take a cup and enjoy!"

After we got our coffee, I followed him up some stairs and into seats. We were sitting in a balcony that overlooked a stage. It felt more like we were here to watch a play or a concert instead of a church service. I was surprised to notice that most of the people sitting around us wore jeans and didn't appear to be stressed over their appearances. It was comfortable and warm. Welcoming.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked.

I smiled. "It's nice."

We were quiet for a while as we observed people around us, conversing and taking seats with their free coffee clutched in their hands. Edward didn't seem to know any of them but he didn't look uncomfortable or out of place. I couldn't imagine anyone feeling out of place.

"Have you been religious your whole life?" I asked him softly.

He licked his lips and leaned his head toward me to answer. "Religious, yes but spiritual, no. I went to church every week when I was younger. We were Lutheran. I went through Catechism and was confirmed and everything but I never felt anything. The hymns didn't really draw me in and I didn't feel the sermons were relatable." He shrugged and added, "Maybe, if I went back now, I would but back then, I didn't."

"I went to a Baptist church until my mom left and then I stopped going."

"Did you like it?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "I liked the people and the ritual of it. When we stopped going, I missed it but I was so angry with my mom that I stopped going. She was the one who was the driver behind our familial church bus. When I thought of church, I thought of her and I couldn't get past it."

"Are you still angry with her?"

I chewed on the question for a few moments before answering, "No, not really. I'm sad that I feel like I don't know her but what's done is done." It was true. I'd spent so many years feeling like she'd taken something from me but since I'd made my escape to Chicago, it didn't seem important anymore. "We talk a couple times a year. I haven't seen her since my college graduation last May. She's remarried to some creep who thinks he's God's gift to women."

"I bet she's lonely," Edward whispered. "I can't imagine having a daughter like you and not seeing you everyday. Maybe this whole thing will wake her up so when you see her again, she'll turn things around."

"I don't know if I want her to," I replied then smiled. "Thank you for saying that, though."

I wanted to reach out and grab his hand. It was just sitting there on his knee, begging to be squeezed but I couldn't. What if he pulled away? Was holding hands appropriate in church? I looked around and saw several couples leaning into each other, arms around shoulders and fingers netted through fingers. Maybe, they were all married. Of course it was inappropriate for unmarried couples to hold hands during church, right?

"I started coming because I thought it would get me closer to Alice," Edward said. "When I got out of Pekin, I had this hunger to be as close to her as I could get so that I could tell her how sorry I was. I went to so many different churches, all of them seemed cold and distant. When I came across this one, it almost felt like home to me. It was the most comfortable I'd been since before I'd killed her."

I wanted to argue that he hadn't killed her but I couldn't interrupt. My hand twitched to grab his and reassure him that he was a kind, worthy person.

"Each time I leave, I leave with something. I can relive the night Alice died every day, every hour on the hour, except for when I'm here. When I sit here and listen to the band or hear the words from Pastor Rich, I don't think about myself. I don't rehash the past and think about what a horrible thing I did eight years ago. It's my reprieve from the blame, from the memories." He rubbed his knuckle against the rough scruff of his jaw. "Sometimes, when I sit here I wonder if I deserve this hour of peace but I can't seem to take it away from myself."

"I understand why it means so much for you to come," I whispered. "It's almost like therapy."

He shook his head slightly. "Therapy is a place for you to heal. This building is where I come to take a break."

"From the guilt?" I asked.

"From everything."

His eyes were filled with so much sadness and pain that I didn't question whether it was appropriate or not to hold his hand. I reached over, grabbed it and threaded my fingers through his without taking my eyes away from his. I didn't let him go for the next hour. As we stood for the band, I felt him tugging to let go but I wouldn't release him. He finally relinquished his hand to me, giving it to me for the duration of the service.

I was still holding it on our walk back to the car. Only when he reached into his pocket to pull out his keys did I let my fingers untangle from his. He opened my door for me and closed it after I got in. I watched him glide around the front of the car, his movements smooth and each step calculated. God, he was gorgeous. He could go anywhere and have his pick of women but here I was—a flustered head case—sitting in the passenger seat of his female car.

He'd told me that there had never been anyone in his life but that didn't mean that he didn't sleep with other women. In fact, I was positive that he'd enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. It would be too difficult for him not to, as easy at it would come to him. It wouldn't take much effort for him to find a willing lady, someone to give him a night of unattached pleasure. The thought made me ill. And ludicrously angry.

As he got in and buckled up, I took a deep breath because what he'd just shared with me was beautiful. There was no way I was going to mess it up by getting jealous over faceless women.

"Where to?" I asked.

He looked over at me and smiled as his car roared to life. "Now, we eat lunch."

We drove toward the lake, and he parked near the walking path. I followed his lead and got out of the car, walking behind him toward a hot dog cart.

"What's your poison?" he asked.

"Ketchup, I guess?"

"You don't sound too certain."

I shrugged. "What else is there?"

A slow smile crept across his mouth. "Go grab a seat on a bench and I'll order one for you."

"That scares me a little," I teased.

He rolled his eyes and waved me off. "Go sit down."

I did as he said and found a bench beside a couple of trees. The wind whipped against my cheeks and I felt crazy as I sat there, shaking and folding into myself. It only took a few minutes before he joined me with two Cokes and two hot dogs that looked like they'd been dumped on by a garbage disposal. I shot him a what-the-fuck look and he chuckled.

"It's how you eat a hot dog in Chicago," he told me.

I swallowed and stared at it. There was ketchup on there somewhere, I was sure of it, but it wasn't in plain sight. A tomato sat on top, a pickle on the side and loads of other colorful stuff in the middle.

"Is there even a hot dog in this mess?"

Edward took a huge bite and moaned. "Just try it, Bella."

I sighed and took a sample bite from the end. There was definitely hot dog in there, along with ketchup, mustard, relish, onions and peppers. It was overwhelming. I started taking things off and popping them in my mouth.

"You're cheating," Edward said with a grin.

"Leave me to it," I chided.

We ate in silence, my body warming as the hot peppers found their way into my mouth. When Edward was done, he popped open his Coke and took a nice, long draw from it.

"Is this what you normally do for lunch on Sundays?" I asked.

He nodded. "As much as Rose thinks I do this all for the sake of redemption, I enjoy being by myself for a day. It gives me time to think about things. In fact, I spent the past two weeks sitting here thinking about you."

"You didn't have to ask me to come, you know. I wasn't mad about it."

He turned to look at me. "I wanted you to come. If I was going to share this with anyone, I wanted it to be you."

"Why?" I asked stupidly.

After another long drink of Coke, he answered me. "Like I told you before, I'm not going to be good at this whole—" He gestured between us with a wave of his hand. "—relationship thing. I'm not someone who opens up to people. I do know that I need you to trust me and I know you can't do that if you don't know the important things about my life. I needed to take a step toward that."

"It's a pretty big step, Edward. You could have treated me to your favorite ice cream before inviting me to go with you on your Sunday rounds. I would have been satisfied with that."

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I want you in my life, Bella. If I can't jump in head first, then what's the point?"

"Like ripping off a band aid," I noted.

He smiled. "Exactly."

I put my half eaten hot dog down on the bench beside me. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

He tossed his empty Coke toward the trash can and it bounced off the side and landed in the grass. "Sure, anything."

My stomach tightened and bubbled as he looked into my eyes. I scooted close enough to him that my knee was half covered by his. "Would you kiss me?"

His brows furrowed slightly and he sucked in a quiet breath. I braced myself as his lips brushed mine, like wet, warm silk. The kiss was gentle and slow. My body loosened as his lips became more familiar with mine. It didn't matter that his breath smelled like onions or that the stubble of his beard scratched at my chin. What mattered was that I welcomed the feel of his body overcoming mine. How strange was it that I didn't panic anymore? Why wasn't I afraid of what was possible?

My senses were overloaded with the pull of his lips, the feel of his tongue grazing my teeth, the warmth of his hand around my waist. With enthusiasm, I put my hand on the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. I moaned and his kiss became urgent on my mouth. As he leaned into me, the cold stone of the bench pressed into my back, and his steady hands kept me from falling off the bench. I felt the need in him as he lifted his body over mine, drawing me closer and firmer against him. The fear that I expected to feel wasn't there. I could feel his desire for me in the grip of his fingers and the sounds of his groans, but I didn't let myself think about what horrible things he could do, using his strength and his sex. He wouldn't.

A wave of lust swept over me and I found myself shamelessly clawing at his back, urging him closer. I forgot where we were. I didn't care where we were. He moaned into my mouth as I tugged at the hair on the back of his head with strong, shaky fingers.

My mind raced, exhausting itself between seeking out what was pleasure and beating out the memories of pain. The irrational beatings, the careless way James used my body, and my lack of control—the memories kept pushing at me, screaming at me to stop. The deeply buried survival instincts were strong but Edward's touch was stronger. He was careful with me as his lips brushed over my cheek and under my ear; his hands caressed me, held me, and kept me safe. It was as if he knew exactly what I needed.

"Get a room, you two!" shouted a grumbling, male voice.

Edward broke the connection and backed away from me, clearing his throat.

"Jim thinks he's funny," he mumbled.

"Huh?" I asked stupidly.

He pointed to the hot dog cart where the vendor was chuckling to himself.

"Oh, well, yeah," I managed to mumble; formulating a response simply wasn't possible. For the first time in my life, I really wanted to be touched by a man. But not just any man; only Edward.

"Sorry," he muttered to his feet, "I got a little carried away."

I laughed silently. "By all means, get carried away."

He looked at me sharply. "No, I can't get carried away. You've been through too much for me to get carried away."

"Does that mean that I shouldn't want to be touched by you? I trust you."

He got up, picked up his can and threw it in the trash can. "I don't know if I trust myself."

We walked in painful silence back to his car. He opened my door and I climbed in without looking at him, slightly embarrassed.

"You okay?" he asked softly as he plugged the key into the ignition.

I sighed. "Yeah, I'm good. Where are we off to, now?"

He turned the engine and it sputtered into a rough death. I didn't voice my told-you-so on taking the bus, but instead fought back a grin as I stared out the window. After a few seconds of silence, he started it again and it roared to life.

"She's good," he told me as he gave the dash board a little pat.

I smirked. "I didn't ask."

We drove through downtown Chicago, making several turns down side streets as Edward told me about the shelter we were going to. It wasn't a soup kitchen, as I assumed, but a food bank. They didn't serve dinner but instead handed out groceries that had been donated by local grocery stores and churches. The bags of food were given out to each family, according to the number of people, and if rationed correctly, would last them the week.

"You'll get to meet Kate," Edward told me. "She let me stay with her for the couple of weeks I went AWOL."

I tried to keep my eyes from narrowing. "Huh. That was awful nice of her to let you stay with her. You must know her pretty well."

He shrugged. "I know her from the shelter and I've been coming here for the past couple of years."

"Every Sunday?"

"I might have missed a couple but yeah, pretty much every Sunday."

"Huh." I let a pregnant pause hang in the air as I tried to neutralize my tone. "Have you two ever…"

His brows furrowed. "Ever what?"

I fidgeted in my seat. "You know…have you ever gotten close to each other."

Bewildered, he turned to me with raised brows. "Are you asking if Kate and I have ever fucked?"

I cleared my throat, willing my face to stay a normal color. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm asking."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "No, but she is rather cute." I fought a frown. "And sweet." My teeth caught my bottom lip and I began gnawing on it. "She has an adorable laugh."

"Huh," I replied.

"I think you'll love her," he said, grinning.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," I managed.

The shelter was in a small church on the outskirts of downtown. The parking lot was empty but a line of people stood outside the door waiting to get in. We walked past them, many greeting Edward by name and asking about his week. He'd reply with short answers and a smile, using their names in return. It was obvious why he felt the need to continue coming here and it wasn't a form of redemption. Edward liked to feel needed.

Perhaps, that was why he'd taken to me so quickly—the lonely, weak girl in need of help who lived across the hall from him. How could he not see me in the same light that he saw the single mother, with the baby on her hip, standing at the church doors? My smile was sad as I thought about the compassion that overflowed from this man, to devote one of his days off to helping other people; but he never did anything for himself which was heartbreaking.

When we got through the door, a middle aged man with a receding hair line and glasses rushed at Edward. The best adjective to describe him was frazzled.

"Edward! We're running behind! I didn't think you were coming today since you're so late." He pushed up his glasses with his finger. "The bags haven't even been filled yet!"

The corners of Edward's mouth twitched. "Randy, this is Bella. She came to help out today."

Randy blew out a sigh of relief. "Where are her talents? Where can I put her?"

I chewed on my lip and fought my own smile. "I'm a really good dancer," I teased, trying to lighten the mood and erase some of the frazzles that were obvious on Randy's features.

He blinked at me. Edward broke out into a grin.

"She's multitalented, Randy. Stick her anywhere."

Randy cleared his throat. "Oh, you were kidding about the dancing. I see. Can you count?"

I made a face. "To ten. Sometimes to twenty if I can take my shoes off."

Randy blinked some more and Edward nudged me.

"You're going to give him a heart attack," he mumbled.

"Oh, more kidding. I see. Come this way, Bella."

I shrugged and followed Randy to a large room filled with piles of different food items and hygiene products. He pointed to a pile of paper bags and showed me where numbers were written on it, blurting out instructions as he unfolded a bag.

"If the number three is written on it, it means it's for a three person family so you put two loaves of bread, two lunch meats, a bag of apples, six oranges, six bananas, four rolls of toilet paper…"

The bag was over filled when we reached the end of the line. He showed me where to put them when it was done so that another bag coming from another line could be added to it. Then he looked at me cautiously.

"Do you think you can handle it?" I nodded. "Good. Any questions?"

"Nope."

He regarded me carefully before he left, probably wondering if I was kidding again. Then he pushed up his glasses and scampered off toward the front, where holy chaos had erupted since they'd opened the door. It was good chaos, though. People laughed, greeted each other and asked questions about families. It wasn't all one sided, either. The people coming in for the bags also knew the volunteers and seemed genuinely happy to see them.

As I filled up bag after bag, I kept my eye out for Edward but I didn't see him. When the bags ran out along with the supplies, I took a deep breath and smiled. For the first time in a long time, I felt really good about myself. Even though I hadn't bought the food or come here on my own accord, I'd done something selfless. The relief that flooded over the peoples' faces overshadowed the hit that their pride had taken when they stepped in line. Thanks to this offering, their family would eat for the week.

"You look deep in thought." I turned to see Edward coming at me from behind with an armful of paper bags. "Give me a hand."

I took one of the bags and followed him to the tables where the volunteers were giving out the food. It was pretty organized. Everyone had a card on them indicating the number of people in their family so all they did was present the card and they got the bag with the appropriate amount of goodies in it. Edward told me that there was an application process and it had to be approved before you were able to get a card. Unfortunately, people would take advantage if the procedure wasn't followed.

"Can you help me grab some more bags?" he asked.

On our way back with two armfuls, I told him how nice it was that he did this. He replied with an abashed shrug.

When everyone had gotten through the line, the volunteers sat for a moment, whether from exhaustion or coming down from the adrenaline rush of the past hour, I wasn't sure. Then the clean up process began and things had to be put back the same way they were set out.

"Edward! Hey, could you help Randy close up the doors?" A female voice said from behind us.

"Sure," he said and gave me an amused look before going to find Randy.

"Oh, I don't think I've met you yet, sweetie." The woman approached me and I immediately smiled. She was small and slender with a head of cropped gray hair. Her age had to have been in her seventies but she moved with incredible grace and strength.

"Hi, I'm Bella," I said, holding out my hand.

Her silver eyebrows rose and her eyes widened as she shook my hand. "You're Bella," she said knowingly. "I didn't think I'd ever have a chance to meet you."

Perplexed, I asked her, "How do you know me?"

"Edward doesn't shut up about you. I'm Kate."

I was giddy over the fact that Edward never shut up about me but embarrassed that I'd been jealous over a seventy year old woman. He had baited me with that one though as he described her on the way to the shelter. He'd called her "cute" and "sweet" but had conveniently left out the elderly part.

"He told me that you let him stay with you a couple of weeks," I said.

She quirked an eyebrow and leaned toward me to whisper, "The man has no idea how to make a bed. He tries but…" she made a clucking noise with her front teeth and shook her head.

"He's been really good to me," I told her. "I don't know what I would have done without him."

A perceptive smile spread over her face. "How are you two doing?"

I looked down at my shuffling feet as I felt my face heat up. "Okay, I guess."

"You must be quite the girl to finally snag Edward up. A few of the ladies around here talk about him like he hung the moon but he doesn't look twice at them." I looked around at the ladies in question and most of them were in their fifties. She must have noticed my observation. "The young ones don't stick around for too long. Except for Edward, that is. He's a good man."

I grinned. "That, he is."

An arm looped around my shoulders and I stiffened until I realized that it was Edward. "I think I should be involved in this conversation. I heard 'good man', 'hung the moon' and 'handsome'. Keep going."

Kate crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think either of us said anything about you being handsome."

Edward squeezed my shoulder with his hand and winked. "It was on the tip of both of your tongues, admit it."

I pinched his side and he let out a manly yelp. "That's what you get for eavesdropping."

Kate let out a throaty laugh. "How's Randy doing with the tables?"

Edward grinned. "He loses every time."

"I'd better go help him," she conceded, "before he decides to kick one and send it flying at Hattie again."

"I'll go," Edward said.

"No, you two head out before you're late for your meeting."

Edward cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot.

Kate pressed her lips together before saying, "I take it by that, that Bella doesn't know about the meetings." Edward shook his head and Kate rolled her eyes. "Hopeless, I tell ya."

"Good to meet you, Kate," I said.

"You too, Bella. Keep this one in line, eh?"

I laughed. "I'll try."

As we climbed into his car and the engine grumbled to life, I looked at Edward expectantly.

"What?"

"The meeting?" I asked.

He swallowed. "I was going to tell you."

"Okay, so tell me."

"When I got out of Pekin, part of my sentence was eighteen months of AA meetings." He shrugged.

"That was five years ago," I pointed out. "You're not an alcoholic."

"I never was."

"So, why do you continue to go?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged a little. "It's just part of my Sunday. I've went for five years; so many have come and gone but a few have been going since before my first meeting. If I just suddenly stop going…"

I was close to calling him on his bullshit. This meeting was a reminder, plain and simple. If he stopped going, he was that much closer to forgetting what happened with his sister. Every week, he went to church and drank in the peace and then went off to help strangers which made him feel damn good. Then, he'd end the night with this meeting so that he didn't go home with any doubts about the direction of his life. Going to these meetings brought the culpability that he'd lost during the day. If he didn't go, he wouldn't know how to sleep with the good stuff rolling around in his chest. Self-destruction and fault were what kept him ticking; without that, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"Look, I know what you're thinking," Edward grumbled defensively.

"Do you?"

"You think that I go because I feel guilty about what happened."

"Don't you?"

"You're starting to sound like a shrink," he observed.

I pressed my lips together. "You're saying that the reason you go is because you're not a quitter, is that right?"

He hesitated as he chewed on the question. "I guess you could say that, yeah."

"Okay," I said, "let's go."

"You want to go with me?"

"Am I allowed?"

"Of course; I just thought that…it's pretty damn boring."

"We can sit in the back and if I get bored, I'll doodle. I want to go."

He put the car in gear and we were back on the road. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw ticked. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable with my company to the meeting but I wasn't going to let him off the hook by excusing myself.

For the third time in one day, we pulled into a different church parking lot and got out of the car. I followed him in and we walked down some steps into a basement of sorts. It was slightly creepy. The meeting had already started when we got there and a few people turned to look at us as we quietly sat down in a couple seats in the back of the room. A young girl with twinkling eyes shot Edward a little finger wave and he nodded to her in greeting. I narrowed my eyes at her but she paid me no mind. She was too busy pushing her chest out and reapplying red lipstick to get his attention. He didn't seem to realize she was even trying to get his attention, which was good.

A man was standing at a podium, talking about the relationship he'd lost due to his disease. He was so young, probably a little older than me and he'd already lost so much. His parents had disowned him and his girlfriend had bailed him out of jail for the last time. It took a horrible car accident that had left his passenger with severe injuries to get him to sober up. He'd been clean of alcohol for fourteen months. Everyone applauded.

The rest of the hour went the same way. By the time they said The Serenity Prayer and announced that coffee and doughnuts were in the room next door, I felt like my insides had been turned to mush. My head hurt from all the emotional stories and my stomach was weak. How were these meetings supposed to make people feel better?

"It's the connection," Edward whispered, reading my face. "When alcoholics come here, it's so they don't feel so alone. It's a horrible disease that alienates you from everyone you love and when people come here, it makes them feel like they belong somewhere."

"You say that as if you have the disease," I countered.

He opened up his mouth to respond but we were interrupted by a shrill cry of his name.

"Oh, shit," Edward grumbled.

"Edward, I haven't seen you in weeks!" The little blonde that had pushed out her chest for him earlier was weaving between empty chairs to get to him. "I missed you!"

I scowled at her.

"Well, Jane, if you attended the meetings every week like you're supposed to, then you would see me more often." His tone was annoyed but she didn't seem to get the hint.

"Oh, you know these tear fests are a bunch of bullshit for me," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm no more an alcoholic than you are. Anyone could have fallen out of that dorm room window."

"Jane, this is Bella. She's my—"

I didn't let him finish. Before he could say something stupid like "friend" or "neighbor", I blurted, "Girlfriend. I'm his girlfriend."

He didn't look shocked so I was hoping I'd finished his sentence for him exactly as he'd planned. Our relationship was new and we hadn't really talked about labels for each other but what better time than the present. Jane stuck out her lip a little and pouted in my direction.

"Oh, I see," she squeaked. "That's interesting."

Then she walked away with her head down and her tail tucked under her legs. I had to hand it to her. She didn't go the home-wrecker route and continue to jut her chest out to overwhelm my B cups. Jane took the news like a champ.

Edward sighed and said, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Then he went after her.

"What the…" I whispered to myself.

I watched him walk after her, stopping her from walking up the steps. He put a hand on her shoulder and ducked his head to talk to her. She pouted a little more and she put a hand on his forearm, as if to hold herself up. I pursed my lips as I watched the exchange, unable to wonder if they'd been intimate. Perhaps, Edward was the love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy and Jane had grown too attached. Absurdly, a wave of anger rushed through me and I found myself gritting my teeth.

"First time?"

The young guy who'd been up at the podium when we first arrived was standing a few feet away from me with a Styrofoam cup in his hand. His dark hair was tussled and deep bags rested under his eyes. If he didn't look so damn exhausted, he would have been a decent looking guy but the years of hardship and alcohol abuse had weathered his features. He looked ready to drop.

"Uh…yeah," I replied.

"What did you think?" he asked with a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"I thought it was really sad," I said honestly.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe next time we'll get to hear your story."

My eyes widened. "Oh, I'm not…I didn't come because I'm an alcoholic."

His lips formed a tight grin and he reached out stroke my shoulder with his palm. I flinched instinctively but his arms were long. "That's what we all say but—"

"No, really, I'm not an alcoholic. Not that I would be ashamed of it or…I mean, not that it would make me a bad person. I just…I came with a friend." I glanced over to see Edward still trying to cheer up Jane and I internally cursed at him.

"I'm Kevin," he said, holding his hand out. I shook it frantically and shot him a nervous smile. "How long have you been dealing with an alcohol problem?"

God, was this guy deaf?

"I don't drink. Ever. At all."

He rubbed my shoulder again and I pulled away from his touch. "Denial is just below the first step of the program. You must have realized that it's a problem if you came here tonight. What was your name?"

Briefly, I considered giving him a fake name but it was possible that this was one of Edward's friends. "Bella and I don't—"

"You're kind of cute, Bella. Want to go out for coffee? I can talk to you about the program and see if you have any questions about it. With proper support, we can all make it through life as alcoholics. The first step is admitting that there is a problem."

"I don't have a problem," I ground out.

He grinned, showing me all his teeth. "How about that coffee?"

"Kevin," Edward said, finally back from his rendezvous with Jane. "How goes it, man?"

"Edward!" Kevin gave Edward his glorious toothy smile. "Have you met Bella, yet? We're going out for coffee."

Edward's eyebrows arched upward as he looked down at me. "Really?"

I shook my head. "No, we aren't going out for coffee. I never said that I was going out for coffee."

Kevin was visibly saddened by this news.

"It was really nice to meet you, Kevin, but I have to go." I turned away from both of them, hauled my way up the stairs—two at a time—and walked out the door. The sun had set and I'd forgotten to take off my coat the entire time I'd been in the church so the chilly air seemed brutal. My breath whooshed out of me like a dense cloud of smoke with each exhale as I found Edward's car and leaned against the passenger side door.

Edward was right on my tail.

"What happened?"

"Kevin tried to convince me to start the twelve step program while you were off chatting with that blonde—" I could have said so many things to describe Jane, most of which would have made me blush, but the words would have been spoken out of immaturity and jealousy. "—girl."

"Sorry, Jane has more issues than she cares to admit."

"Can we just go?" I asked.

He stared at me for a moment before nodding. The key scratched the side of his car before he got it into the lock and pulled the door open for me. I sat and he closed it with a meaningful slam. I jumped.

When he got in, he turned the engine over with vigor and we reversed out of the lot. His hands clenched the steering wheel and his jaw was tight as he made turns and bolted around corners. I wasn't sure how close we were to home when his female vehicle grew more than just a little temperamental. Red lights glared out at us from the dash and the engine died with a short sputter.

"Fuck," Edward ground out. "I can't believe this shit."

He pulled the hood lever on the floor and got out to inspect the engine. I followed out of sheer curiosity. There was a small stream of smoke billowing out from a large black thing in front and something was creaking from deep in the engine. I was no expert but it didn't look good.

"Sorry," Edward murmured.

"Are you talking to the car or me?" I teased, trying to lighten his mood.

He looked over at me and his face lightened. "I was talking to you. I know you have to be up for work in the morning."

I looked at my watch. "It's only seven thirty. It'll be fine."

"It'll take a fucking year to get a tow out here. I could walk you home in the mean time."

I shook my head. "That's okay."

Edward pulled his phone out of his back pocket and called for a tow truck. When he snapped it shut he sighed, "Two hours."

We stared at the popping engine some more.

"What do you think is wrong with it?"

He made an I-don't-know noise.

"You fix air conditioners. I'm surprised that you can't fix your car."

"My manliness doesn't extend to the automobile department."

"It's cold out here. Can we get in the car?"

"Better yet, there a diner down the street. Hungry?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

The diner was small and everything, including the counters and the booths, had a yellowish tint to it as if it had been installed in the seventies. Belinda, our waitress, had big, teased hair and her eyes had been brutalized by a mascara wand. We ordered hot chocolate and flap jacks. My feet tapped in anticipation of the food.

"I'm sorry about Kevin. Ever since he started coming to meetings, he has this savior mentality. He jumps on all the new attendees and gropes them for information."

"Thankfully, he didn't grope me but if you hadn't interrupted when you did…"

"I was talking about figurative groping. If any physical groping occurred, I'd have to kick his teeth in." His hand passing over his eyes gave me time to let a quick grin slip in before he noticed. "I'm sorry about Jane, too. Like I said, she has some issues and I felt bad about it. She's on a slippery slope and I didn't want to be the cause of her ass hitting the ground."

I cleared my throat. "What kind of issues?"

He shrugged. "Daddy issues—looking for attention in all the wrong places and drowning her self in Jack Daniels until she gets hurt enough for someone to show concern for her." Belinda swung by and dropped off our hot chocolate. "She's asked me out several times and I got tired of turning her down so I told her that I didn't date…anyone. That didn't stop her from flirting but it kept her from asking. Then you introduced yourself as my girlfriend and it crushed her."

A pang of regret swelled in my chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just blurt that out but…"

His mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "But what?"

I squirmed in my seat and took a few long sips of my drink. Unable to make eye contact, I focused on tearing my napkin into shreds. "She's beautiful and she's, um, sexy and I guess I got a little territorial."

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Look at me." Reluctantly, I did as he instructed and met his eyes. "She's not who I want. I'm not really who she wants; she only thinks so because I'm there."

I shook my head slightly and mumbled, "Who wouldn't want you, Edward?"

"Here are your pancakes, kiddos." Belinda had impeccable timing—I had to give her that. "Do you guys need anything else?"

"Uh, no thank you," I told her.

She smiled brightly and walked away, her hips shaking with each step.

"Why are you so paranoid about me and other women, Bella?" he asked as he poured blueberry syrup on his pancakes. "I told you that I've never done this before."

"I don't know," I said, shame thick on my voice. "I've never really been the jealous type."

"Well, stop it. It's cute but it's also irritating."

"Okay, no more jealousy," I conceded with a sharp nod.

"You don't have to take all the jealousy out of the equation—just stop thinking that I've screwed every female that looks at me. I'm a man but I do have some self control."

"I've noticed," I said.

He narrowed his eyes a little as he smirked at me but he didn't continue the conversation. We ate the rest of our meal talking about little things: Emily's play that we were going to on Friday, Sammy's appointment with Early Intervention that was mostly thanks to Carlisle, and I asked him about his job. He wasn't thrilled about his career as a maintenance man but he'd said he'd been lucky that he was given the opportunity since good jobs were hard to come by when you were an ex-con.

"What would you do if you could do anything?" I asked him.

He grinned around a mouthful of pancake. "I'd go back to school for Social Work. Something about helping people, whether it's kids or adults, that just makes me feel like I'm worth the dust that I kick up with my boots."

I wanted to argue and tell him that he was worth it but we'd been through that conversation before and nothing I said convinced him otherwise.

When we got back to his car, we sat in the cold and waited for the tow truck to arrive. He'd given me a blanket that he kept in his trunk and I'd wrapped myself up in it but I was still shivering.

"Can I ask you why you don't trust yourself?" I asked, breaking the silence. He raised his eyebrows at me in question. "At the park, before we went to the shelter, you told me that you don't trust yourself."

"If we hadn't been on a cold bench in the middle of the park, I don't know if I could have stopped myself. You need someone who can treat you right and I honestly have no idea how to do that." He rubbed his palms over his face. "I can't imagine what you went through with that douche bag in Oklahoma and I don't want you to feel anything similar when…"

"I wouldn't feel that way with you." I hoped. I prayed.

"You don't know that, Bella. It's not smart to get physical with another man when you still have that fresh in your mind."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I thought about it. "Maybe, that's exactly what I need."

He shook his head. "How do you figure that?"

"Because if I don't have someone who shows me how it's supposed to be, how can I know that it can be different? It's already been different with you, Edward."

"How so?"

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, wondering how the hell I could talk to him about this without blushing like a school girl. How would I describe the deep ache I felt in my belly when his tongue slid against mine or the tingles on my skin when he'd touch me?

"When you kiss me, I feel, I don't know, different from any other time I've been kissed. Even before James left for Iraq, when he'd kiss me, it didn't…I didn't feel anything."

His eyes twitched in the darkness. He looked sinister. "What do you feel now?"

I groaned. "You're killing me, here. This is embarrassing."

He grinned. "I'm just trying to understand. If you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

Thankfully, I didn't have to answer him because the tow truck driver arrived shortly after. He was a large man with a handlebar moustache and a greasy mullet. We got out of the car and he asked where we wanted the car towed to. Edward gave him an address and the man started hooking up the car to his truck. A look of sadness passed through Edward's eyes as he watched his faithful lady being hooked up to chains and hoisted up onto her back rear wheels. I was proud to say that for the first time that night, I held back my jealousy over his involvement with another girl.

A/N- So, what did everyone think of Bella's jealousy issues? Is it refreshing that she's actually having normal girl feelings or is she going overboard? What did you think about the kiss? So, how many girls do you think Edward has actually been with? Just curious as to your thoughts. Huh, huh, HUH?

I appreciate any and all reviews! They're like crack (in a very non-addictive and still-able-to-function-in-my-everyday-life sort of way)! I'll see you on Thursday!