So, because all of you are awesome, you get a bonus chapter. Let's find out what Edward's been thinking.

.

.

.

.

.

"Fuck." I grunt and do another rep. Emmett is killing me with this new workout regimen. I ache all over but I have to admit that my body is faster and stronger. And never looked so good.

Normally I wouldn't care about that, much (I always care about my looks, but I'm not completely conceited), but I have my eyes on a certain girl. Woman, really. Not that she's into buff guys. In fact, I think she's more into books about science than anything. I've seen her at the library in the chemistry section several times. Also, I might have followed her into the cafeteria once or twice. Okay, it was four. But a growing boy has to eat. Two lunches won't hurt me. Especially the way Emmett is making me sweat.

So far all I've done is stare at her. She looks like a serious student. In fact, the only times I see her laugh or smile is when she's with her friend in the cafeteria. Maybe she has a boyfriend. She must, because she's crazy beautiful, and she never notices any of the guys that are looking at her. Including me.

Maybe next semester I'll grow some balls and talk to her.

.

.

.

I saw her tonight at the bar. She was with that same friend she's always with. And no guys. I caught her looking at me as I walked out. I have to admit that I grinned all the way home. Although talking to her would've been more productive.

I only feel slightly guilty that I pretended it was her hand jerking me off in the shower later that night.

And maybe a lot more times after that.

.

.

.

"So you can coach with me then, Edward?" Emmett asks during dinner.

"I already told you yes, Em. My schedule is busy, but I can make time for my nephew."

My mother beams. "Oh, Edward. That's so sweet. I'm so happy that both my sons are here again." Great. She's tearing up. I know she's about two seconds away from getting out the old photo albums. I have no desire to see Emmett and me dressed up like 'NSYNC. At least I was Justin. Emmett was Joey. Loser.

"Ma, don't start crying. I can't handle crying women," Emmett complains.

"No, you can't handle your crying woman," my dad says. "When are you going to get Rosalie back?"

I look at Emmett, who is staring down at his plate. "I don't know, Dad. I've tried everything." I feel really bad, but I don't know how to help him. It's not like Emmett to be so depressed. He has always been the happiest guy I know.

"Obviously not, because you're here alone, and my daughter-in-law and grandson are somewhere else. And didn't you tell me last week that Rosalie doesn't want to take Riley to little league? That's unacceptable."

Emmett flinches at my father's words. I don't blame him. The whole situation is fucked up. My nephew loves baseball. Rosalie is just doing this to get back at Emmett. She blames baseball for their problems.

"Dad, I gave up baseball and moved back here and got a regular job. The house is almost finished. I've talked to her about little league - through our lawyers. I don't know what else to do."

"Have you tried telling her that you can't live without her?"

"I did," he says sadly, "and she still left."

"How about recently?"

"She won't speak to me."

"Well, you need to show her. You never wooed her properly, Emmett. You just took her from home and made her drop everything. Now it's time for you to drop everything and make her your priority. That's what I did for your mother. I gave up swimming to take care of you so she could play golf. Because you two were more important. And look at us now. Your mother and I are happy and successful."

"I know. I'm trying," he whines.

"Emmett, sweetheart, you haven't. You're waiting for her. She's not going to come to you. Step up your game," my mom says.

"Be creative. Cullens always go after what we want. And we get it," my dad insists.

I think about my dad's words. There is something that I want. Well, someone. And I've been a total pussy. As soon as I help out Emmett with this Riley-baseball problem, I'm going after my girl.

Well, she's not mine yet. I kinda need to find out her name and declare myself and other minor stuff like that.

Like my dad said: I'm a Cullen. We always get what we want. Or something like that.

I'm improvising.

.

.

.

"Damn, Cullen. You're ripping the shit out of the ball today," Garrett says in awe. "Did you adjust your swing?"

"Nope. Just feeling good." Fuck yes, I feel good. Before the cages I went over to see Rosalie's brother and I ended up finding my girl. Bella. The same girl I've been flirting with over the phone.

I'll feel fucking awesome when she says she'll date me. She says she doesn't like ball players, but I caught her looking at me again. She must like me a little bit. I'll just have to show her that I'm more than a player.

Talking to Jasper is productive. I got him to agree to talk to Rosalie...in exchange for testing out some chemistry app. That dude is weird. While we're talking, something exploded in his pocket. Obviously I didn't ask what. Some things are better left unknown.

.

.

.

I go to Emmett's first practice tonight. I was a genius when I decided to help him, because Bella is here with her brother. After practice Emmett explains her situation with the kid. He could tell immediately that I'm interested. At first I thought Seth was her kid, but she's too young. Though I guess she's really acting as his mother anyway. I don't really care either way. The fact that she's responsible enough to be in college and raise a kid is pretty amazing.

And she's not just "in college," she's a legit genius (I made a few inquiries). Not in the goofy Jasper way where shit gets blown up. She's the star of the chem department. Like she needs to be more attractive to me.

And fuck me, does she smell good. I sort of sniff her when I whisper in her ear. It's cute how she she gets all rambly and nervous and starts spouting chemical equations. I hope she doesn't notice the wood I'm sporting in my shorts. And if she does, I hope she's impressed. I need all the help I can get.

I've got to make my move. I have no clue why she's not dating anyone (maybe it's the kid thing), but I know that I can't wait.

.

.

.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Shit.

She said "no."

Am I that bad? I'm twenty-two, tall...polite. Girls usually like me. A few of them hang out at practice just trying to get me to do something with them. I don't even want to touch those skanks, but they'd blow me in the dugout if I'd merely look their way.

And the girl I want won't even go out with me.

Where the fuck is my dad with all his "Cullens always get what they want" bullshit?

Cause I'm not getting any right now.

And I really want it.

I call my dad and tell him what happened. After he laughs for like an hour (way to beef up my self-esteem, Pops), he tells me that I haven't tried to woo her.

What the fuck is with the "wooing"? What era is he from, anyway? I thought he was barely turning fifty. He should be saying "groovy" or something.

Anyway, he says to get creative. And turn on the Cullen charm...whatever that means. I thought I was charming. I guess I'll have to ramp it up.

I can do that.

Now where the fuck can I find some turquoise?

.

.

.

I meet with Dr. Volturi from the Natural History Museum tonight about an internship for this summer. Since it's my senior year, I know most people expect me to sign with a minor league team, but I've seen how that life messes up families first hand. And I know that a family is something I want in the future. Not the immediate future, obviously, because I can't even get a fucking date.

The interview is a last minute thing courtesy of my parents' connections, so I have no other choice but to go. Today I sent the last gift to Bella, and I all want to do is check my phone to see if she called. No offense to the awesome tour and discussion with Dr. Volturi...but he doesn't make me hard like she does.

When I finally get out of there, it's pretty late. I switch on my phone and see voice-mails from Bella Swan. I had programmed her number in from the team roster since she didn't give it to me. Emmett swore to me that it wasn't creepy to do that, and my mom agreed. She said my dad got her number from a form he stole in Bio lab when they were in college. She was giving good advice until she started reminiscing about their sex life. Then I was out.

I listen to the first message. Holy fuck. Bella is a little buzzed. Call me maybe. That annoying song. The douches on my team wanted to make a video for the Internet like the Harvard baseball team did. Fuck Harvard. As captain, I vetoed that shit. Although when Bella sings it, I like it.

But I will never admit that out loud.

The second message is an even bigger mess. I laugh at her rambling. She's all over the place, but at least I learn that she thinks I'm super hot and she likes my track pants for some reason. Maybe she's into working out or something. Maybe we can sweat together.

Fuck.

I need to call her back and make that happen. Before I do something rash - like get arrested for jerking off in a public lot.

But before I can call her or think about pulling my dick out, my phone vibrates. It's her.

"Hello, Bella."

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Thanks for your comments. I hope to have the regular chapter up next week.

Cosmogirl loves me so much that she signed my prefucktual agreement and added some stuff to it.

Twilover 76, rtgirl, and les16 all read this right away so I could post today. Thank you, ladies.