B,

I wanted to do something for your birthday—that question on Twitter earlier? That was me fishing for ideas on what to write. Since you love this Bella so much, I thought you'd enjoy seeing her from another perspective. I hope you put something yummy in your Sharpie-decorated fandom flask (my handwriting and glitter nail polish for the win) and have a wonderful night.

xoxo,

Colleen

Happy Birthday, Songster!

-o-O-o-

I don't own Twilight.

This hasn't been beta'd.

-o-O-o-

December 27, 1999

Once inside Starbucks, I scan the tables. When we spoke on the phone earlier, Isabella described herself as "a nondescript brunette". There's a brown-haired girl sitting by the window, but she's too pretty to possibly refer to herself as "nondescript". Then I notice her foot twitching violently under the table. Given how nervous Isabella had seemed when she called me, this has to be her.

I walk over to her table. "Isabella? Hello, I'm Carlisle."

She falls off her stool. For a second, she seems surprised lands on her feet.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't." Smiling, she extends her hand to me.

I shake it, pretending not to notice she's trembling.

"What will it be?" she asks, angling her head toward the counter. "My treat."

"You don't have to do that."

"You didn't have to meet me in public."

"Venti latte—skim, triple shot."

"I'll be back in a sec," she says.

I watch her as she hurries off to order. Turns out her ass is every bit as nice as her smile.

A few minutes later, she returns with our drinks. She places them on the table then slides back onto her stool.

"I'm glad you were okay with meeting me for coffee before I look at your apartment. I mean, I know if I move in I'll be alone with you all the time. It's just I've never done this and..."

"It's okay," I tell her.

"No, it's kind of a pain in the ass—that's why I appreciate it so much." She sips her coffee. "Anyway, it's not as if I'm paranoid or anything. But my dad is a cop, and for as long as I can remember, I've been told never to go anywhere with strange men—not that I think I you're strange. I mean, in the ten minutes I've known you, several adjectives have gone through my head, but strange isn't one of them. Yummy and charming have, but the same could be said of the average serial killer."

It takes everything in me not to laugh.

"I'm not sure how to take that."

"Fuck," she mutters under her breath. "I can't believe I just did that."

"What, likened me to a serial killer?"

"No." She shakes her head. "Said you were yummy. Not that you aren't, but...shit. I'll shut up now."

"You're nervous. It's fine; I get it."

She squeezes her eyes shut, sighing. "Is it that obvious?"

"It's okay."

"I feel like such a tool."

I smile, trying to put her at ease. "You said you've never been on your own. And moving to a city where you don't know anyone is a huge adjustment."

"That's only part of it. As much as I hope we hit it off and you let me move in, the prospect of living with someone I don't know is scary. I mean, I did it my freshman year of college, but this is different because...well, you have a...you know. You know what I mean, right?"

"Was that English?"

"Ha ha. You're funny."

"No. I'm serious," I tell her.. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. You know...that thing you have and I don't?"

"An apartment?"

"Not that."

"A job?"

"Uh-uh." She shakes her head. "Please don't make me say it."

There's only one other thing she could be talking about, and that's my cock. I don't think I could stop myself from laughing if my life depended on it.

"Don't make fun of me." She folds her arms across her chest.

"I'm sorry. You know, you could have just said it's because I'm a guy."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little on edge here!"

Already, I want her to move in with me, though not because she's an ideal candidate. I'm worried what will happen to her if she doesn't. That I find her extremely attractive isn't a factor. At least—that's what I tell myself. When I look up from my cup, she's staring at me.

"You're so much like...never mind." She places her cup back on the table. "I'm ready whenever you are."

I am, too—for just about anything.