Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Imagine Jimi Hendrix "Red House" playing in the background. youtu*be/I27dMBB51S0

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Chapter Five: Exhaustion

Running, work, the clubs with Vanessa, and the occasional trips to Leah's became my life in the following weeks. When the club scene was just too much or I wasn't feeling like keeping up the happy pretense, I went to the bar. It was always good for a drink and a quiet place where I could sort through the thoughts trapped in my head.

Vanessa was perplexed by my sudden change of heart about bringing guys home with me, but I just couldn't do it anymore. There was nothing in and of itself wrong with casual sex, but I was starting to realize that it was making me feel worse about myself, not better. Vanessa could go home with guy after guy and come away feeling great. I wasn't her though, and I needed to stop trying to pretend that I was. What had felt like a decent coping mechanism had begun to feel completely wrong.

Riley and I broke-up when he moved to D.C., I was free to do whatever I wanted. But I still felt like I was his. Somehow, I felt like if I just held on longer, things between Riley and I weren't really over—maybe he and I could somehow still be together.

For a long time, I'd pushed away the thought of what Riley would think of what I'd been doing, but I couldn't any more. I knew it would hurt him to know that I was so unhappy. He'd hate that I'd been trying to cope with the end of our relationship by going to bed with other guys. I knew it was ridiculous.

I felt somewhat better with myself after I stopped the random hookups. I desperately missed the physical connection, though. I missed being touched. Although I still went to the clubs with Vanessa occasionally, dancing and the club atmosphere didn't give me the physical comfort I wanted so desperately. Leah's bar was a quiet place to relax, and her quiet, steady presence was calming, but it did nothing to make me feel less lonely.

The lack of sleep and mental anguish wore on me. Although I was trying to eat more and not push myself so hard, I knew I hadn't really made enough progress.

At work, I found myself lacking focus and making stupid mistakes. I knew I had to figure myself out or I was going to crash. I had met with a new client earlier in the day and, had it not been for Charlie being lead counsel, I probably would have cost us the case. When it came time to go, I packed up my bag and turned off my computer when Charlie came by my office. He hesitated outside my door briefly, a worried expression on his face. Finally, he came in and I couldn't look him in the eye. I hated the idea of failing him and I couldn't stand to see the disappointment in his face.

Seeing I was upset, he walked over and hugged me. I wanted to crumble and cry on my father's shoulder as I had when I was little but couldn't allow myself to fall apart. I shoved my emotions down inside and simply hugged him in return.

"You don't look so good, kid."

"I'm fine."

"Bella, talk to me."

"I just had a rough week. That's all. I'll get some sleep this weekend and be fine." I smiled tightly.

"You're lying to me."

"Please..."

He frowned. "I can't stand to see you like this, Bella. You look like you're barely holding it together. Take some time to relax this weekend. Enjoy yourself."

"I will," I said weakly.

"If you don't, I may have to have you cut back on your hours here. You're working yourself to death."

I inhaled sharply. The routine of work was all that was keeping me together. If I didn't have it, I would get lost in a mire of loneliness and never make it out. Not working was not an option.

"I promise, I'll get as much sleep as I can. I won't even take these files home."

"Good. See you Monday, kid."

"Love you."

"I love you, too." He engulfed me in another hug and I let myself soak up some of his warmth and strength for just a moment. Any longer and I would have burst into tears.

I gave him a smile that I knew he wouldn't buy, and left. I left the files on my desk, wincing at the idea of a weekend without them.

~LTOYL~

Once I was home for the evening, I headed immediately for the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of wine and taking it with me into the bedroom.

I rifled through my closet, desperately trying to find something to wear. Eventually I settled on an olive green dress and draped it over the chair by the bed. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I did look tired. And old. I frowned and took a sip of wine, trying to smooth away the fine lines beginning to form beside my eyes. I washed off my makeup and took a seat at the vanity table, wanting to start from scratch. I did my best to avoid my own eyes in my reflection as I made up my face. My movements were robotic, practiced. I blended in the foundation and dabbed concealer under my eyes, trying to hide the bruised looking circles under them. I drank as I worked, the numbness sinking through me. A little bit of blush, dark cat-eyes, nude lips. I twisted my hair up and let a few pieces fall into my face before securing it with pins. I gulped the wine down faster than I should have, and when I stood up from the vanity, I wobbled on my feet, remembering too late that I had hardly eaten anything for lunch. I closed my eyes, trying to fight back the spinning in my head. "Too much, too soon, Bella," I reminded myself.

I slipped into the dress and stood in front of the mirror, critically eyeing my appearance. I looked better. If I didn't know myself, I'd say I looked great. But I didn't feel beautiful and desirable. I didn't feel anything.

The cab was waiting for me when I got down to the lobby. Jacob frowned at my appearance and I did my best to remain steady on my feet.

"Good evening, Jacob."

"Evening, Miss Swan. Please take care of yourself."

"Of course. Thank you."

He helped me into the cab and I gave the driver the name of the bar. Although I'd originally planned to go to a club, I couldn't stomach the thought of dancing. I considered just staying home that night, but the thought of another pathetic night alone in my apartment made me feel even worse. Leah's would have to do.

Giving the cabbie the address, I mentally prepared myself for the night ahead of me.

"You can do this, Bella. You need this."

Arriving at Leah's, I opened the heavy wooden door and walked straight up to the bar. I removed my coat and set it on the barstool next to me, scanning the room for any familiar faces. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone and wanted to have a drink.

"Your usual?"

I nodded at Leah. "Please."

Her dark eyes met mine. "You all right, hun?"

"I will be." She slid the glass across the bar to me. "Thanks."

I took a sip, savoring the taste of the honey before the bite hit and closed my eyes in appreciation. I sipped it slowly, not wanting the night to be over before it began. I felt the soft fabric from someone's sleeve brush my arm as they sat down beside me, but I didn't bother to look over at them.

"What are you drinking?" His voice was low and slightly rough. I could imagine him whispering in the dark of the bedroom, teasing me with his words. I closed my eyes, fighting back the picture that formed in my head.

"Drambuie." I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. He was dressed simply in a black collared shirt with the top button undone and a grey suit. Still, he was overdressed for the place. Then again, so was I. He seemed quite a bit taller than I was, although with him sitting, it was hard to tell just how tall he really was. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist under the well-tailored suit.

"Well, that's better than a Cosmo, although not by much."

"Did I ask for your critique on my drinking habits?" I asked dryly.

He laughed. "I'm Edward."

"Bella." I took another sip of my drink, feeling it slide over my tongue and down my throat to warm my belly.

I tried not to stare at his face, but it was impossible. I noticed his lips first, pink and just full enough to look inviting, without being too feminine. He had a long sloping nose and sharp cheekbones with a chiseled jaw, lightly covered in stubble. His eyes were blue or grey; it was hard to tell in the dim lighting in the bar. Grey I decided. Riley had blue eyes. I fought the rising grief at the thought of him and returned to my perusal of Edward. Long eyelashes, brown messy hair, maybe with a reddish hue—again, hard to pinpoint in the light. It was long for someone as well dressed as him, not the typical short, stylish cut.

"I am drinking Macallan twenty-five."

"Trying to impress me with the size of your bank account?"

"Hardly. I couldn't care less about the price of it. It's the taste that matters."

"And now I know you're so rich you don't care what you spend." I motioned for Leah. "Another. And another Macallan." She nodded and turned away.

"And now you're showing me that you are wealthy and independent enough to buy an expensive drink for a man."

I shook my head. "Trying to figure out why you'd drink something that tastes so terrible."

"It's some of the best Scotch in the world," he said, sounding almost offended.

"According to snobbish men trying to impress women with their expensive manly drink."

"You're drinking fermented honey."

"No, that's mead," I corrected him.

"Still disgustingly sweet. And a waste of good Scotch."

"I like it." I grabbed the drink in front of me and nearly spat it out when I realized it was the Macallan.

"That's yours." I slid it over to Edward and he gently set mine down in front of me. "I'm going to kill Leah; she was trying to be funny." I gulped mine down. Edward took a careful sip from his and set it back down. His long, narrow fingers wrapped around the glass.

"So what brings you here tonight?" he asked.

"Are we having a conversation now?"

"I was trying."

"You might have better luck with one of the girls over there." I pointed to the three at the table behind him who had been eyeing him since I turned to look at him.

He didn't even turn and look. "I'm enjoying talking to you."

"What are you going to do if I move to sit somewhere else? Or leave?"

"Be very disappointed."

"I was hoping to find somewhere I could drink in peace. Didn't feel like dealing with the club scene tonight."

"You're implying I'm disturbing your peace and quiet."

"How very intuitive of you. You are correct."

"What I'm trying to decide is if this is your version of foreplay, or you really dislike me."

"I don't know you. And I don't have any desire to know you."

"That doesn't answer the first part of my question."

"I've found that kissing makes for better foreplay than verbal sparring. Leah, another!" I called out.

"You sure you need another, Bella?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," I told her.

She sighed. "One more and I'm cutting you off. You're drunk."

"Not drunk enough. Not to put up with this jerk."

She laughed. "Edward's a teddy bear."

"Could have fooled me."

"I've known him since we were five. He's the only boy I ever let kiss me."

"You're a lesbian?" I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

"You didn't figure out the butch vibe I have going on?"

I shrugged. "Apparently not."

"Leah and I have been friends since kindergarten," Edward added.

"Lucky you. Leah, not so much." I polished off my drink. "Since you're cutting me off, I'm out of here." I stood up and feeling tipsy, wobbled on my feet. Edward steadied me with a hand on my lower back and I tried to ignore the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of my dress. And the fact that I needed someone to keep me from falling over.

"You're not taking a cab home," Leah barked. "I'm not putting you in a taxi with some leering creep."

"How do you propose I get home then?"

"Edward can take you home."

We both turned to her in astonishment. He recovered first. "Uh, sure. I'd be happy to. You can share a cab with me; I'll get you to your place and then head home to mine."

"How does that change anything, Leah? You're still putting me in a taxi with a leering creep."

"But I trust this creep."

"I don't need a chaperon," I said in exasperation. "I'm fine."

"Bella, let Edward take you home." Her voice was hard and I sighed, knowing it was no use arguing with her.

"Fine. Are you ready to leave?"

He nodded. He stood up and I suddenly felt small beside him. He towered over me and I realized how much of my lower back his hand covered.

Leah slid a bottle of water across the bar to me. "One for the road. You need it."

"Yes, Mother." She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me. "Thank you, Leah," I said a little more softly.

"You're welcome."

Edward took my arm to steady me, and I hated that I needed it. I was silent on the ride to my apartment building, except to speak to the cabbie. In the enclosed space, I was too aware of his body beside me and the heat from his thigh as it brushed against mine. I was surprised by the way my body reacted to his, how quickly I felt the first flush of arousal. At my building, Edward spoke to the cabbie in a low voice, thrusting cash at him and asking him to wait. He helped me from the taxi and I was proud of myself for only wobbling momentarily. I gripped his forearm, feeling the muscles flex beneath my fingers. He opened the door for me and escorted me inside the lobby, stopping just inside the doors.

Jacob scowled from his desk across the gleaming marble floors.

"Are you able to get upstairs alright?" Edward asked.

"You brought me home, you walked me to my apartment, you came inside to make sure I was alright, and now you're leaving?" I asked quietly.

"You didn't want me to take you home in the first place."

I swallowed. "I changed my mind. I want you to come up."

"I'll walk you to your door." He offered me his arm again and I took it, making my way to the elevator.

"That wasn't what I meant," I said lowly. My heels clicked across the floor, echoing in the empty space.

"I know."

The elevator came immediately and we both stepped inside. "Do I have to spell it out for you, Edward?"

"Spell what out?"

"Why I want you come up to my place."

"I think I have a fairly good idea of what you have in mind, but feel free to elaborate."

"You're infuriating."

"You're the one trying to convince me to go to bed with you."

The elevator doors opened and I strode out into the hallway, Edward just a step behind me. I still felt a bit wobbly on my feet but I managed to make it to my door without staggering or tripping. Once the door was open, Edward followed me inside. I turned to face him and gently pushed him back against the door. I stepped forward so my body was lightly brushing his. The snarky banter we'd been engaging in was a bit like verbal foreplay for me. I found a quick-witted guy very attractive. And he was certainly no slouch in the looks department either. I wanted Edward not just because he was a warm body and a way to feel less lonely, but also because I found myself genuinely attracted to him.

"Fine, Edward, I find you infuriating, but that doesn't mean I'm not attracted to you."

He sighed. "I don't think it's the best idea. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safe."

"Don't you want me?"

"You're beautiful, but you're also drunk."

"Not that drunk."

"Drunk enough. I don't want you to do something you'd regret."

"That's my decision, not yours."

"It's my decision to participate."

"Fine. Leave. Stay. I don't care." I turned to walk away from him but his hands darted out to grab my hips and he pulled me back against him. I felt how hard he was. He did want me.

"That's a lie." He breathed the words against the back of my neck and I fought back a shudder. "I'll make you a deal, we talk, you sober up, and then we'll revisit the issue."

"I don't need to get laid that bad."

"What you need is more water." He let go of me and I gestured to the left.

"Kitchen is over there."

He made his way into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water.

I took it from his outstretched hand and sank onto the couch, kicking my shoes off and tucking my feet under me.

"Thank you for raiding my refrigerator."

He gave me a crooked smile. "I know it wasn't quite what you had in mind when you invited me up."

I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't help the quiet laugh that left my mouth.

"That's where you're wrong. I was hoping to bring you up here to become my personal manservant."

"Is there a rigorous application and screening progress?"

"Mmm, yes." I eyed him. "You may have to have a physical, too."

He smirked at me. "I assure you, I'm more than qualified for the job."

"We'll see about that."

We lapsed into silence for a moment before he spoke. "I believe the job ad also mentioned something about my duties in giving foot massages. I'd be happy to give you a demonstration."

I laughed, very amused by his quick wit. "I don't believe that will be necessary."

His long fingers reached out and wrapped around my ankle, with a quick tug my foot was on his lap and I was nearly upended from the couch. I steadied myself, my head feeling fuzzy and muddled from the drinks. I took a few more sips of water, knowing that I'd appreciate it in the morning.

"You don't have to... Oooh..." My voice trailed off at the heavenly feeling of his strong thumbs pressing into the arch of my foot. I threw my head back with pleasure against the arm of the couch. "That feels wonderful."

He didn't reply, merely continued to knead and massage my foot. He was deliberate and methodical in his movements, so I stopped arguing. One disadvantage of my job was the fact that I was never out of heels. I was too short and too delicately built to feel authoritative in flats. His thumb slipped between each toe, pressing there firmly to relieve the ache in the muscle that I hadn't even known existed. By the time he had worked his way to my ankle I was feeling relaxed and content. It had been a long time since someone had touched me so thoroughly without it being a sexual encounter. Not since Riley left. I frowned at the thought.

"Is that hurting you?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm? No, it feels good," I said, shaking my head. He must have been watching my facial expressions for my reaction to his touch.

With a gentle squeeze, he let go of my foot and coaxed the other one up on his lap. Not that I fought him. It was odd, our banter had been so antagonistic earlier, but this was so soothing, I couldn't find the will to fight him on anything. Besides, wasn't that really why I picked guys up? Because I needed someone to touch me, because I was lonely and any warm body was better than a cold bed and frigid existence?

By the time he finished my second foot, I had nearly fallen asleep. I lifted my head, feeling drugged, but not from the alcohol, rather from the pleasure that began at my toes and was rapidly traveling throughout my entire body.

I lifted my head to look at him. His hand was still resting casually on the top of my foot. "Good?"

"Mmm, you're hired."

He smiled. "Is there a benefits package?"

"I'm sure we can think of something." I finished my water and he immediately lifted my feet and placed them on the couch and stood up.

"Let me get you another."

I accepted it without hesitation, and he joined me on the couch again, moving my feet to his lap once again. His hand returned to its previous spot, his palm against the top of my foot, his thumb curved around to lightly brush the arch.

"What is it you do for an actual job?" I asked. "I'm guessing you aren't a masseuse, although you could have fooled me."

He smiled. "I'm a curator at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art."

I blinked in surprise. I don't know what I had assumed he did for a living, maybe banking or finance or architecture. But his answer was unexpected.

"That's one of my favorite museums in the Bay Area."

He nodded. "I grew up wanting to work there."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Immensely." He tilted his head to regard me. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer with Swan and Volturi. It's my father's practice."

"And would you be Bella Swan or Bella Volturi?"

"Swan. Following in the footsteps of Charles Swan and Geoffrey Swan."

"Do you plan to take over eventually?"

I nodded. "Yes." The question was too loaded for me to answer in any further depth. Maybe sensing that it wasn't something I wanted to continue discussing, he changed the subject.

"Do you make it to the museum often?"

"Fairly often. The firm is a Benefactor, but I think I'm the only one who takes advantage of it."

"No one else is into modern art?"

"Not particularly. I went with Charlie, my dad, once and he just spent a lot of time tilting his head and looking confused. He's a bigger fan of realism."

Edward smiled. "Modern art isn't for everyone."

"No, I suppose not." His thumb caressed the bottom of my foot and it twitched, reflexively at the ticklish feeling.

It had been a long while since I'd spent time with a man like this. Other than bringing guys home to sleep with, the only men I'd spent any time with lately were my father and co-workers. It was nice to just have a conversation, be social. I found myself laughing, and surprisingly, sobering up. I wasn't sure what it was about Edward that I liked so much, but I found him interesting.

Edward smiled and said, "Admit it, I'm not so bad."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You're not so bad." His fingers continued to rub soft little circles on my feet and I drained the rest of the water bottle.

"I think I'm sober now," I said quietly.

"I think so, too." Edward sighed regretfully. "And it's time for me to leave."

"Stay," I pleaded with him.

"I really should get going, and you should get to bed."

"Edward, please . . . stay. . . just a bit longer," I said again.

He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his options. And then, as if he had made up his mind, gave me a slight nod and a crooked smile.

"You're trouble, Bella Swan. Keeping me up past my bedtime," he said teasingly.

His fingertips grazed another ticklish spot on my foot and I returned it with a playful kick. I felt a surge of excitement at the thought of him staying. Maybe the night wasn't what I thought it would be, but I was enjoying myself, and I wasn't ready for it to end yet.

Author End Notes: So we finally meet Edward. We hope it was worth the wait. Let us know what you think about chapter five and we'll see you next Thursday with chapter six!

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