Thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted this fic since the last update. I didn't get a chance to respond to as many of the reviews as I'd have liked to (school starting and work made things crazy around here), but I read and appreciated them all.

Thank you to my beta dude, Stratan, as always.

Chapter 3

Bella

"You'd better hurry it up, or you'll be late," Charlie called from at the bottom of the stairs.

"I know!" I rushed around my room and started shoving things into my gym bag. I stopped and made sure I had everything before I hitched the bag over my shoulder and raced down the stairs.

I couldn't be late for my first day at work. Just couldn't. This was my one shot to not look like the inexperienced nineteen-year-old I was, and someone who actually deserved this job. I still couldn't even begin to understand why Emmett Cullen had hired me, but I wasn't going to question it. I needed this job too badly.

I wasn't sure how I was going to manage working in such close proximity to Edward. Not only was I harboring a huge secret about his biological family, but he was a total asshole. A total asshole that made me… I wasn't sure how to describe it, really. He made me nervous, but not in a bad way. More like giddy, I'd suppose, although, I wasn't really familiar with that feeling so I couldn't be sure. Butterflies turned to giant birds flapping around in my stomach when he was near. The chemistry between us was so palpable, it frazzled my mind and caused my libido to go into hyperdrive. All I'd wanted him to do when we stood in the office together was close the distance between us and kiss me. It was all I'd been able to think about still—a week later—and I'd never really wanted that until now, even with the few crushes I'd had before.

It was startling.

He was unknowingly funny, even though he tended to keep that locked away and was broody instead. But that moment he'd let his defenses down and let me see into his personality—that split second in the office that stunned his own brother silent—I could see how amazing he was under all that angry armor, and I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like when he smiled.

I'd bet he was breathtaking.

I just needed to know why he protected himself so much. I needed to know more about his life before the Cullens, though I didn't know why. I just knew that it was the answer to why he was so closed off to everyone now. And maybe, I thought stupidly, this was the reason why I felt so connected to him already. Maybe I was here to help him.

I brushed past Charlie and sat down at the table to put on my shoes. He went over to the stove for something, and then practically threw a plate of eggs, turkey bacon, and wheat toast at me when I went to get up.

He pointed at the plate. "Eat. I bought that awful turkey bacon just so you'd have something to eat in the morning."

"I was going to pick something up on my way."

"Eat," he repeated.

"Dad, I don't have time," I argued.

"If you'd stop arguing you would."

My lips twitched, and I made a show of taking a bite. "Happy?"

He nodded and buttered a piece of toast on his own plate. "Shouldn't you be more… dressed up?" he asked awkwardly.

I finally let myself smile. "No. I work in a garage. I was specifically instructed by both Emmett and his wife not to wear anything nice unless I wanted it ruined. Chances are between my clumsiness and the general chaos in the garage, I'll come home dirty a lot."

He grunted and took a bite of the bacon. "Not bad, actually."

"See? Being healthy doesn't have to suck."

"So far."

I laughed and crammed the last of my eggs into my mouth then quickly chewed before I spoke again. "Okay, I'm done. I need to go before I'm really late. Can we have something beside eggs in the morning, though?"

He gave me an odd look.

I started popping open my pill bottles and dumping my medication out into my palm. "I like them, I do. I just getting sick of eating them every single day."

"It's all I know how to cook," he admitted.

"How about oatmeal? Or cereal? Even yogurt would work."

He grimaced. "I'm not eating yogurt."

Baby steps, I reminded myself. "Okay, you don't have to. But I might. And maybe we could make the eggs with the whites only?"

I could see his jaw clench in annoyance but he didn't complain. "Make a list. I'll buy whatever you want when I finish my shift."

I hopped up and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush. "How about I just meet you at the store instead?"

"Yeah, okay. That'll work."

I smiled and picked up my glass of juice, dumping the pills in my mouth and chugging them down as fast as I could. "I'll call you when I leave."

With Forks being as small of a town as it was, I was parking my rusty truck next to a shining, ridiculously clean car in the back lot of the garage in no time at all. I got out of the truck and looked over at the other car in the lot. Silver. Small. Volvo with tinted windows. Exactly like the one that'd whizzed by me at the hospital.

I got the strangest feeling that I already knew the owner.

I grabbed my purse and locked the truck up before heading inside, leaving my coveted journal in its usual spot on the passenger's side of the cab. It was starting to sprinkle, and for a fleeting moment, I missed the Phoenix weather and my overbearing mother—even my stepfather, Phil.

I glanced at my watch as I strode through the door and figured I was early enough that I could send them a quick e-mail while I waited on Emmett and Rosalie to get here. There wasn't much to learn about the job, but I needed to get an idea of the system that they and the rest of the employees used throughout the day, so I was going to be training all this week with the other Cullen brother since Emmett would be preoccupied with some… major restorative work on some old ass car. I had no idea; my eyes had glazed over when he was talking about it.

God help me.

I hurried inside and looked around the quiet, cavernous area. There were a couple of cars up on lifts and the lights flickered overhead, but other than that, it was completely empty. It felt like a different place than it had the last time I was here without all the activity and the high-pitched whir of the impact drills.

I heard the sound of paper rustling together coming from the corner and wheeled around to see Edward bent over a magazine, concentrating solely on the article with the exception of one cursory glance toward me. Sure enough, he was my Volvo owner.

"Hey," I whispered in greeting. "I didn't see you there."

He shrugged a shoulder and went back to his reading, as if he was studiously ignoring me. I stood there for a split second, trying to figure out what to say next. There was so much swimming in my head that I wanted to get out, but I had no idea where to begin. I didn't want to tell him everything—like the weird connection I felt with him already—because I was pretty sure it'd freak him out, but I wanted to be honest and upfront. But how could I say, "Your biological sister is dead. I have her heart"? Nothing I could think of sounded appropriate.

We were alone. Now was just as good of a time as any to spill my secret, yet I couldn't force the words from my tongue. I just stood there with my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish trapped in a glass bowl until I simply couldn't anymore.

I panicked.

I bolted for the office, shutting the door behind me and throwing myself into the chair. I let my head fall against the cool wooden surface and groaned. This was so much harder than I'd anticipated, and I quickly realized that I'd been incredibly naïve to come here and think it was necessary to insert myself into his life. He didn't need me. He was…

I lifted my head and stared back across the distance to where he stood and scrutinized his face. He wasn't happy, not in the least. Not with this job, not with his life… And so my determination grew. I didn't know what the outcome would be, but I knew I had to tell him before I left for UW in August. It was inexplicable and went against every conscious thought I was having.

But I just couldn't turn away from him.

My hand came up to rest over my heart the second he lifted his head and stared at me. His eyes snapped to my hand then back up to my face questioningly. And almost as if he was irritated with himself for wondering, his eyes narrowed and his amazing mouth—the one I was positive I'd be dreaming about later tonight—made a little snarl just before he grabbed his magazine and stormed out the door.

I sat there frozen and stared blankly at the empty place where his body once stood.

Before I had a chance to even come to terms with his abrupt departure, the door to the office opened and Rosalie walked inside.

"What crawled up his ass this morning?"

"Me," I answered weakly.

She cocked her head to the side as she thought about it. Her expression darkened for a moment, and then she snapped out of it, allowing a smile to cross her beautiful face. The way she seemed to be able to bury her feelings was a little… disconcerting. "He's moody. You'll get used to it."

"Moody?" I asked, blinking in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. One second he's fine and the next he's throwing tools around and letting curses fly. He's like that at home, too. I can't tell you how much shit he's broken since he came to live with Emmett's parents."

"Oh."

"You have to understand," she said hesitantly, shutting the door behind her as she walked toward me. "He's had a rough life. None of us really know what happened to him before Carlisle and Esme adopted him because he won't talk about it."

"He said he had a shitty life in Chicago," I agreed.

She looked shocked that he would even tell me something that vague. "He said that?"

"Yeah, yesterday. Why?"

She shook her head. "Did he tell you anything else?"

"No."

"Just… be careful with him," she said softly. "He's damaged goods, Bella. He likes to pretend that he's normal, but he's not."

"He needs more practice," I said dryly, expounding that comment when she gave me a funny look. "On his pretending. I think we can all see right through him. I mean, I just met him and I already know it's bullshit."

"I think it's more for himself than it is for us, Bella," she answered gently. "Whether we know it to be false or not isn't really the issue. As long as he thinks he's got us all fooled, he's all right. If not…"

"What?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my seat. "What if he knew we all saw through it?"

"I don't really know, to be honest."

I chewed on my lip and stared back out at the garage, hoping that he'd come back through the door. I had no idea what Rosalie meant, but now I felt even more grounded to this place.

"So," she said, clearing her throat, "ready to get an idea of this madness my husband thinks is a decent billing system?"

I laughed a little. "Sure."

"Okay. I'll help you with it until Jasper gets here."

"Jasper's the other brother, right?"

She nodded and took a seat on the desk beside me. "The oldest. Emmett's next, then there's Edward. Jasper is Emmett's silent partner and Edward just helps out during the summer."

"How come?" The question was out of my mouth before I could think about it, and I immediately slapped my hand over it before I could say anything else.

Rosalie just laughed.

I moved my hand aside to speak. "I'm sorry. That was rude and invasive. You don't have to answer that."

"It's fine." She waved me off. "You should know who you're working for. Jasper and Edward are both in school."

"Really? I thought they were older than me."

"They are," she answered distractedly while she booted up the computer. "They're both in med school. Well, Edward starts this fall. Jasper will eventually work with burn victims and Edward plans to be a surgeon. Cardiothoracic, to be exact."

My eyes widened with this revelation and my hand immediately rubbed the place over my heart again. "Wh- Why?" I stuttered.

"Their pasts." She spotted someone walking through the door and smiled. "There's our boy now."

I didn't get to ask what she was talking about because a tall, lanky guy with dirty blonde hair came strolling through the door. He gave us both a lazy grin as he walked into the office and brushed his hair off his forehead, something I'd seen every single Cullen man do at least once since I'd gotten to Forks. He was gorgeous, but then again, all of the Cullen men were in one way or another. I was a little confused by his clothes—charcoal track pants and a long sleeved black tee—since it was pretty warm outside and everyone else was wearing short sleeves but I kept quiet. It wasn't any of my business.

"Bella, right?" he asked, his smoky gray eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Yeah."

"Jasper. Nice to meet you. Emmett's raved about you already."

I giggled and glanced over at Rosalie, who simply shrugged. "He was happy to have someone take over this part of the business, that's for sure. And you just fell right in his lap."

Jasper threw me a little smirk with her comment, and my eyes widened slightly. If I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was flirting with me. "I'll just bet he loved that."

Rosalie left us alone to get acquainted and start our day. He showed me where all the forms and supplies were, and then moved to the computer programs as the day progressed and we had invoices to enter into the system. It was mindless work, really, and Jasper kept me company in my little hole. He was sweet, kind, and had this innate calm about him; he was the complete opposite of Edward, who always seemed so turbulent under the faux exterior.

Stop thinking about him.

But I couldn't. My eyes kept lifting to where he was bent over the vehicle he was working on, watching his muscles move as he fought with something hidden behind the fender, watching his brows knit when he tried to figure out what move to make next, watching him bark orders at the poor, dark haired man beside him…

The very little time I wasn't staring at him, I could feel his eyes on me. Shit, I wanted him. For the first time in my life, I wanted someone. But I knew that I shouldn't. Rosalie had made it perfectly clear that he was damaged, and I had no idea how he'd react when I finally told him why I'd come to live with my father.

Even if he felt a fraction of what I did for him, Edward simply wasn't an option, as disheartening as it was.

"We're just about out of forms out here," Rosalie called from her spot next to a blue SUV. She looked like a pinup model leaning against the gleaming fender with her gray coveralls, wavy platinum hair, curvy body, and bright red lipstick.

I made a mental note to never stand next to her when someone had a camera.

Jasper and I both reached for the drawer at the same time. My bracelet caught his watch and snagged, locking us together. He chuckled and reached over to disentangle us, allowing me a peek at the skin on his right arm that had been hidden behind the sleeve of his shirt all morning long. His clothing and choice in career now made perfect sense to me.

I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. There were patches of dark stubble missing on the right side his neck where the hair just didn't grow anymore and I could almost guarantee that whatever he kept hidden under that shirt was a much more dramatic version of the sneak peak I was getting.

He'd been burned. Badly.

He jerked his hand back and looked away, leaving me to work on unwinding my bracelet from the clasp of his watch on my own. The second I was done he jumped out of his seat and scrambled toward the door.

"Wait a minute," I called out to him. "Where are you going?"

"Out," he answered gruffly, not bothering to glance back at me.

"Why do you think I care?"

He slowly turned around and eyed me warily. "Everyone cares. I look like a monster."

"You don't," I said emphatically. "No more than I do."

He looked taken aback.

"You want to know why I'm wearing a shirt that comes all the way up to my throat? Why you'll never see me wearing a v-neck?"

He swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

"I spent the majority of my teenage years in and out of the hospital having surgery after surgery before I ended up just having to wait on a heart. A few months back, I finally got one. My chest looks like a carved turkey now and there's nothing I can do about it. But that doesn't mean I want to broadcast it to everyone."

He smiled a little with my description.

"So are we okay? I don't want to work here and have it be awkward…"

"We're good. We're definitely good." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry I reacted that way."

"It's fine. Honestly.

"I'm going to grab some lunch. Want something?"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks."

"It's diner food," he warned.

I cringed. "Okay, just this once. I don't eat that kind of crap anymore."

"Heart?"

"Yeah. It's stupid since I'm allowed to have it in moderation, but I can't help it." I paused and bit down on my lip. "Listen, can you keep the transplant thing to yourself? I don't want people looking at me differently."

"Your secret's safe with me."

And I knew it was.

"Hey," I greeted Charlie as I rushed to the door of Fork's very own Thriftway. "How was work?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," he answered with a grin.

"Good. I worked with Emmett's brother, Jasper, all day. He's nice."

Charlie's mood shifted, and he scowled. "He's a little old."

"I'm not dating him," I laughed. "I'm training with him. There's a huge difference."

He pulled out a cart from one of the rows without answering.

"How old is 'old', anyway?"

"Just turned twenty six."

"So he's on his last year of med school," I deduced.

"Yep."

"What about Emmett and Edward?"

"You can't ask them?"

"I guess I could," I conceded.

He sighed. "Emmett's twenty-five and Edward's twenty-two. Birthday's in a few weeks, though."

"How do you know all of this?"

"It's my job," he replied with a jerky shrug. "I know most there is about the people here."

That had huge potential to be horribly frightening. "So what kind of fruit do you like?" I asked, changing to subject as I walked over to a display sitting in the middle of the produce section. "Apples?"

"Eh."

"Dad, come on. I want to get stuff we'll both eat."

He pursed his lips under that mustache and glanced around. "I don't mind bananas."

"Bananas. Okay," I said slowly. "What else?"

It took me a little while, but I eventually got Charlie to open up and tell me what he liked and didn't like. Most fruit, it turned out, he didn't mind. But he was incredibly picky when it came to vegetables.

"What about these?" I asked, holding up a cucumber. "Like in salads?"

"No."

I huffed in frustration and put it back. "You're driving me crazy here, you know."

"Get what you want. Don't let me stop you."

"But you are," I shot back. "If I want to cook something that I know you don't like, I'll have to make you something else instead. I don't have time for that."

"What am I, a child?"

My face scrunched up. "You know what I mean."

We eventually made it out of the produce department with more than I'd expected, only to fight over the Vitamin R he insisted on filling the cart with when we hit the liquor aisle. I was sure he didn't really drink all that beer himself, and was trying to figure out how much money we'd spent already when he threw yet another one of the cases on the bottom of our cart.

"You do not need that many," I told him, shoving the thing back and grabbing one of the six packs instead.

"What if someone comes over?"

"Then they can BYOB."

"We're not completely broke, Bella," he said firmly. "I still have a little bit left in savings."

My mouth flew open. "How… how did you-?"

"I could see your mouth moving as you added up what we had in our cart so far."

Well, damn. I thought I'd been much more covert than that.

"You're nineteen," he whispered. "Stop worrying so much. It can't be good on that heart of yours."

It probably wasn't. But I had no idea how to stop worrying. I'd put both of my parents under huge financial strain with my health issues. It was just one more thing that was listed under the "Bella shouldn't have gotten the transplant" list.

I immediately stopped that thought dead in its tracks. I deserved to be alive. I just had to keep remembering that just because I didn't have the most exciting and productive life didn't make that statement any less true.

I grabbed the case and hefted it back onto the bottom of the cart. "Okay, I get it. Here's your beer," I relented.

I started away from Charlie but turned around when I didn't hear the rolling of the cart's wheels following me. He was still in the same spot talking to a dirty looking older man that looked like he'd just come off the river after an entire day of fishing.

Bet he smelled like it too.

"This is Waylon Forge," Charlie introduced to me as I walked back over to him. "Waylon, this is my daughter, Bella."

He smiled warmly, revealing a row of surprisingly perfect teeth. "Nice to meet you, Bella."

"You too." Oh, God, he smelled like stale liquor and then some. I glanced over at Charlie and knew that he was going to be working to get this man away from the alcohol and back to his house. And it was going to take him awhile.

"I'll just meet you up front." I gave Waylon one last look and amended that, "Or maybe at home."

I took the cart from my dad and got a grateful nod in return. "Here, Bells, take some money to the register."

My dad dug out his wallet and handed me a few twenties. "Thanks."

"You tell me if it's not enough," he instructed sternly.

I smiled. "Got it. See ya."

Money in hand, I turned the corner, going over everything in the cart again to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. I was so preoccupied with the mental list I was checking off, I didn't even see anyone coming toward me.

Not until I slammed my cart headfirst into their thighs.

"I'm sorry," I offered in a rush. "Really."

"It's fine," the voice answered tersely.

Edward.

My body instantly reacted, and I twisted my now damp palms on the cart handle before chancing a look at him. He looked pissed, which was something I was quickly learning was normal for him. I hadn't seen him look even so much as relaxed since I'd gotten here. His guard was firmly in place, and I knew that there was no way I was going to get under it. Not today.

"You following me or something?" I asked, trying to make light of the situation, but failing miserably.

His eyes flashed darkly. "You sure like to fucking flatter yourself, don't you?"

Moody, I reminded myself. Jesus, was he ever.

I took that one descriptive word that Rosalie had given me of him today and used it to compose myself. I had no idea how, but when I spoke to him, my voice was calm and somehow didn't shake with the effort it took to keep it that way.

Which was the exact opposite of what I felt. Every cell in my body felt ravaged and deflated, and my heart literally ached, but I didn't know why. He'd been decent to me when I'd had my interview, and now he was treating me like I was shit.

"No," I replied honestly. "It was just a joke. You know… those things you tell people when they want to relieve tension?"

He scoffed.

"Cause, buddy, you have got some serious anxiety issues going."

A crease formed between his brows. "Whatever."

"No, it's not 'whatever'," I mocked, causing his expression to tighten further. "I work for your brother. You don't have to like me—you don't even have to talk to me—but I deserve some fucking respect when you do. Capiche?"

I could have sworn by the startled, pleased look on his face that he was going to smile, but no. He just stood there silently, shifting the flour in his hands and refusing to talk to me anymore.

But he hadn't walked away…

"You bake?" I asked dryly.

"It's for Esme," he muttered. "My… mom." His cheeks flushed with color, ridding me of all my anger. God, he was cute when he was embarrassed.

Stop it, Bella.

"Just a little tip since I've spent so much time with them: Being a good surgeon means having good people skills. You'd better study up on that, Edward, because yours suck."

His incredible green eyes flashed with curiosity, but I ignored it. I wasn't about to tell him anything in the middle of a grocery store. I started to maneuver the cart around him but froze the moment he started speaking again.

"How do you do that?" he almost whispered. "How do you always manage to… disarm me?

"What?" I murmured, drawn in by his hypnotic gaze. He was abruptly more relaxed and open, and I stared up at him and finally, truly, saw his pain. I started to reach out to him without thinking, but jerked my hand back the moment his body tensed in anticipation.

It was unwelcome.

"Just…" he finally ground out. The wall was back in place again, pushing me away. "Nothing. Forget it."

"I don't know. I just say what's on my mind," I replied sadly, wishing he'd have given me just a little more time before regrouping his defenses.

He snorted. I figured it was as close to a laugh as I was ever going to get and made me even sadder. "Obviously. I'll see you later."

I checked out and glanced back one last time for Charlie before heading out to my truck. I could smell rain in the air again tonight, so I hurriedly unpacked the contents of my cart into my truck cab and squeezed in beside them before the clouds decided to open up on me. I put the keys in the ignition and flicked my wrist, but there was no familiar, vibrating rumble as the engine turned over. I tried again and barely got a cough out of it. Once more, and it was completely silent.

I beat my head against the steering wheel in frustration for a moment. Then, I reached for my phone to call Charlie.

A sharp rap on my window had me jumping in my seat so high that the phone tumbled out of my hands and down to the floorboard. I glanced over and was stunned to find Edward staring back at me.

His eyes were bright with fire and his face was gorgeously contorted with anger as he wrenched my door open. "I don't give a shit about where you came from and how safe you feel in this small town, you don't fucking sit in a dimly lit parking lot with unlocked doors! By yourself! Jesus, Bella. Are you that stupid? Do you want to get raped or something?"

I stared at him in bewildered silence. He was close enough that I could feel his breath ghost across my skin and heat roll off his body, slamming into me and doing the most… wicked of things. His scent circled around me, leaving me lightheaded and drooling as I finally caught that bold, spicy flavor that matched the intensity of the man it belonged to. A hint of the sweet smell of tobacco was underneath it all, and I wanted to close my eyes and just… savor it.

Or maybe huff would've been the more appropriate term. He made me unable to think, breathe… function. I wanted to dive headfirst and explore it all, have him teach me everything about what it meant to crave someone like this.

"Well?" he snarled. "Do you?"

"NO!" I shouted, finally getting my wits back about me. "My truck won't start, you asshole!"

He backed up immediately and ran his hands through his already chaotic hair. "I'm going to pop the hood."

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm. Going. To. Pop. The. Hood," he growled.

"Fine," I growled back, jumping out of my truck the second he spun away from me.

I followed him over to the front of the truck and waited as he expertly found the lever and opened the hood. He peered inside, cursing at how low the light was, and then raced over to his own car. The second he spun away from me, Maggie's heart finally kicked up speed as it registered all of the adrenaline pumping through my veins from when Edward had scared me shitless. When I was exercising, it typically didn't bother me because I knew what to expect. This, though… I was beginning to see how much of a nuisance getting used to this heart's reactions would be.

He came back with a flashlight in one hand and a small bag of tools in the other. He motioned for me to get behind the wheel, which I grudgingly agreed to, although, I honestly had no clue why. He was such a jerk. Cute or not.

"My dad's inside," I yelled at him through the hood. "He can take me home and we can just have it towed to the shop tomorrow."

"Shut up and turn the ignition," was the answer I got back.

A quick little punch at the steering wheel and I was able to speak without screaming at the top of my lungs. "All right," I responded, doing as instructed. Nothing.

We repeated the process something like five times before he finally shouted at me to stop.

I sat there and chewed on my lip while he did something else. Suddenly, his head popped over to the side and he waved me over.

"See that?" he asked when I was near. He pointed at something I couldn't see.

I stood up on the bumper and nodded.

"Your battery connections were corroded," he murmured huskily, risking a glance at me. I could barely make out his expression in the darkness, but it was full of apprehension.

I couldn't even begin to fathom why.

"It's normal for an old truck like this, so I tried to clean them a little to see if that would take care of it, but it seems it's more than just that. Your alternator's shot."

"Okay… How much is that going to cost me?" I asked, unconsciously licking my lips.

His eyes darted down to them and lingered. "Nothing. The garage will pick it up."

"No, I can't let you-"

"Employee perk," he interrupted harshly.

I narrowed my eyes. "Really? For everyone?"

"For everyone," he confirmed, seemingly even closer to me.

"Oh."

I could see his hands grip onto the grill as he stared over at me. Heat swelled in the air around us the instant our eyes connected. I felt like I couldn't breathe, as if I would happily drown in whatever magic Edward possessed over me. Like the fool I was, I thought he might kiss me with the way his breathing sped and his mossy eyes darkened as he inched closer and closer to me. Just as I anticipated his touch or the feel of his warm lips melding to mine, he jerked his head back with low, forced grunt.

He yanked his phone out of his pocket and stepped away from me, clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders as he punched in a number with his thumb.

"Jazz, I need you to get the truck," he instructed without so much as a greeting. "Bella's here at the Thriftway with a bad alternator."

He listened for a second before murmuring something I couldn't hear then hanging up.

"Your dad's inside, you said?"

"Uh-huh." I quickly glanced around the parking lot for his cruiser but saw it nowhere. "Maybe not. He had some drunken guy to take care of. That's why I went ahead and came out alone. He might've already left…"

"Fuck," he muttered. "Okay, let's get your shit in my car. I'll take you home."

"I can wait-"

"Jasper will be a while," he said, cutting me off again.

"You could at least let me finish a sentence," I snapped. "That's the second time you've interrupted me."

He didn't answer. He simply pushed past me and started retrieving grocery bags out of the cab.

I followed his lead until we had all of my belongings and purchases in his trunk and I was sitting in the passenger seat of his Volvo, my journal sitting awkwardly in my lap like the giant pink elephant it was. The car's black leather was buttery against the back of my arms and smelled like heaven; a mix between Edward's glorious scent and that new car smell people did everything possible to keep.

"Buckle up," he barked as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Yes, sir," I mumbled, exaggeratedly doing as I was told.

He glared at me and started the car.

The quiet sound of classical music filtered through the speakers, and I couldn't stop my head from whipping in Edward's direction as he shifted the car in reverse.

"What?" he demanded.

"I thought you were more a 'heavy metal-slash-rock-with-a-little-bit-of-alternative-splashed-in-there' kind of guy," I admitted.

"I like music. All music." He gave me a cursory look before elaborating. "Classical keeps my… road rage down."

I filed that away for future reference. It could come in handy one day. "I see. Does it keep you from committing major traffic violations, too?" I asked, grabbing for the armrest on the door. "Because you're a really scary driver."

"I am not," he argued indignantly.

"Um, yes, you are. What are we going, like eighty in a thirty?" I swallowed hard. "I have put way too much effort into living to die at your hands. Slow the hell down."

He looked a little stricken by my comment, but grumbled obscenities and obeyed. "Happy?"

"It's better." I released my grip on the armrest and flexed my hand. "How exactly do you know where I live?"

"Everyone knows where the chief lives," he retorted almost defensively.

"Mmm," I agreed, "I suppose they do. Goody for me."

He didn't bother saying anything back. Yet again.

The atmosphere was charged and heavy as we drove the rest of the way to Charlie's house. I throbbed; I squirmed the entire ride, thankful for once that Forks was so small. I wanted him to touch me, to pull over on the side of the road and take me however he pleased. It seemed like every second we were alone together, it just got harder and harder to stay away from him.

I was in big trouble.

A strange sound abruptly came out of the back of his throat. It almost sounded like he was choking.

"You okay, there?" I asked, crossing my arms and scooting further away from him. It was the exact opposite of what my body wanted to do, but being so close to Edward was making me hot, and breathless, and all sorts of things I was still wholly unready for.

Don't forget that he doesn't know you huge secret, either, Bella.

Yeah. Definitely not ready.

"Great," he managed, gripping the steering wheel harder.

"Good," I breathed.

The second he parked the car I unbuckled my seatbelt and bolted out of the door. I ran for the house, intent on unlocking the door so I could race back and bring everything inside in as few trips as possible, but wound up tripping on a tree root buried in the thick green grass of the yard.

I sprawled out on the damp grass and just… laughed. There was nothing else to do but just laugh at how absurd this whole night was: Awkward shopping with my father followed by awkward run in with donor's brother. Truck not starting. And last, but certainly not least, sexually charged car ride home with said awkward run-in at the Thriftway.

I couldn't have made this shit up if I'd tried.

"What the fuck was that?" Edward asked with a sneer, carting bags around his arms.

"Tree root," I gasped between giggles. "Clumsy."

"No shit. Get the door open for me. I got all of it but the beer."

That sobered me up, no pun intended. "Thanks."

He strained to point toward the door.

"I said thanks," I said as I stood and dusted myself off. Not that it helped. "The appropriate response is 'you're welcome'."

"I know."

"Then say it," I challenged.

"Why?"

"Because you're not a complete douche bag?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're welcome."

"Was that so hard?" I asked over my shoulder as I started back toward the house.

"Nope."

"Then why are you so rude?" I realized after I spoke that I was repeating myself. I'd told him he was rude once already.

"Just part of my charm."

I opened the door and let him inside. "It's not charming. At all. So you should stop."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said wryly, setting everything down on the counter and disentangling his arms from the bags.

He stood there and stared at me, pinning me with that same hard look that he had in the garage that first night I'd spent in Forks. Only this time, something lingered underneath. It was the fire of desire, it was an innate curiosity; it was the determination not to act on either of those emotions. He was, without a doubt, a paradox to me.

All at once, the connection was broke. He drew in a breath and looked like he was about to pull his hair right out of his head as he dragged his hands through it. He glanced around the room, moving slowly away from me until he slammed into the cheery yellow cabinets and uttered a sound of pain as the corner of the countertop dug into his hip.

"Right." His voice was thick and raspy. Delicious. "Okay, I'll put the beer on the stoop before I go. Later."

Surely I hadn't heard that right. Leave it on my front stoop? Who did that?

"What?"

Nothing. Not one word in response. He simply darted out of the room, leaving me absolutely speechless from his erratic behavior. The door slammed behind him as he fled, causing me to flinch a little. At that moment, I finally knew what rejection felt like. How it burned through your body and ate away at what little confidence you might have had, and how tears pricked your eyes and a lump formed in your throat because of it. It was one of the worst feelings I'd ever known, and I had to force myself to focus on something else before I burst into tears.

When I was calmer, I glanced around at the empty room and fell into the nearby chair, not knowing what else to do. The compulsion to write was strong and I clutched the journal tightly in my hands, knowing that I'd feverishly recount everything that had happened tonight in order to try to find some perspective. Only I knew, realistically, that I'd never be able to supply a reason for anything that involved Edward on my own.

If I wanted to understand even the littlest thing about him, I'd have to hear it straight from the mouth of the lion himself.

This fic was featured on a new blog, The Newbie Reviews, recently. So a huge thank you to them again! It was such a nice surprise!

www(dot) fanficnewbies (dot) blogspot (dot) com.