Usual Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the creation of Ms. Meyer.

Spotted! Huskies' #7, Edward Cullen, & unknown brunette That Place Diner.

Reports are mixed. New Flavor of the Week? I

need evidence! Confrontation or connection? ~Yardbarker Tweet

~*~Edward~*~

I threw the ball down the length of the indoor field, through the most distant tire target. It hit the netting with a satisfying swish. Pedaling backwards, I fired off three more perfect bombs, smirking as a freshman scrambled to retrieve the balls bouncing down from the net lining the back wall.

I rolled my shoulders, though they felt fine. My session with the athletic trainers this morning proved uneventful. As expected, my body was in perfect working order. Routine called for being checked out by the trainers the morning after every game. But I didn't play stupid, never had, and I sure as shit didn't plan on fucking things up this year. Yeah, my game was aggressive, but it would be hard to make a career out of a fucked-up shoulder or knee.

After their physical exam, we broke for breakfast—my mind flashed with the image of a dark-haired girl, eyes sparking with challenge—and now were finishing up the light day with short sessions with position coaches.

Dan Stewart, the quarterback coach, motioned me closer at the end of the drill. Besides the freshman, we were the only ones using the indoor training field, but he still spoke quietly when I reached him. "Coach wants you upstairs."

My jaw tightened. I nodded and moved to the hall leading to the interior of the athletic complex.

"And, Edward? Great game yesterday."

I tossed a surprised grin over my shoulder as I turned into the corridor. Stewart was a hard-assed, tight-lipped perfectionist. His compliment took a little of the bite out of the prospect of yet another meeting with Coach.

It was time, though.

When I entered Coach's office, he spoke quietly into a cell. He motioned me to one of the chairs fronting his desk. "He's here."

My fingers clamped around the arm of the metal chair, and I knew without anything more being said exactly who was on the other end of that phone.

Uley.

A rush of emotions swirled through me—satisfaction from yesterday, triumph that I could finally say I had a foothold in this battle of wills, resentment that I was forced to play these stupid games instead of simply focusing on football.

I didn't have time for more déjà vu before Coach passed me the cell and Uley was cooing in my ear. "That was some playing yesterday, Edward."

Sure as shit was. "Thanks."

And I waited. He sure as hell hadn't called just to pass on his congratulations. He needed to recover ground, needed to feel he had me towing his line, under his control after I'd thrown a wrench in things, both with my game yesterday and ponying up to his ultimatum Friday night.

I would savor the look of fucking shock on his face Friday night for months to come. He hadn't really expected me to agree to his ultimatums, perhaps? Or he'd expected me to agree with no stipulations of my own?

But I'd purposefully included Coach in that conversation because, despite the questionable nature of Uley's involvement, Coach had never been anything but up front with me since the day he'd started recruiting me for the Huskies. I honestly believed he wanted the best for me and the team, and while I may not have been thrilled with the current situation, I still trusted him to have my best interests at heart.

So, yeah, as soon as the idea exploded in my mind Friday, I'd wasted no time laying it out for them. I'd be moving into the AC dorms like a freshman punk. No more bad press. And the clincher, the big deal, the way I pulled a little control back into my own hands—I'd start dating Bella Swan.

Coach had smiled, clapped me on the back and stood beside me as we waited for Uley's reaction. I didn't expect him to agree immediately. He wouldn't know who the hell Bella was, no more than I had a week ago. And he'd already hand-picked his niece, so he would need to come to terms with this new twist. His shocked expression had faded to something indecipherable. He'd said something about taking my request under consideration, getting back to me on Sunday.

I'd nodded and left. Nothing more to be said there.

And Saturday, my focus impenetrable, my game immaculate, I cemented my position with a decisive victory.

So hearing him congratulate me now was no surprise, but it wasn't the true reason for the call, either. I waited. Would he say Bella was unsuitable? Find some way to disqualify her? I suspected he'd had her investigated. Had she passed his scrutiny? And even if I pulled off this little triumph, I knew it was just the first. He would try to maneuver himself into a stronger position of control at the earliest opportunity.

"So, Edward, regarding our conversation…"

I waited, let the silence stretch as he drifted off.

"It's such a thrill to see how serious you're taking your commitment to the Huskies program. I know these concessions will pay off in the long run. All of them."

I understood his vagueness owed to the fact that we spoke on school property, having a conversation about illegal things that could lose Coach his job and me my college career, but I still needed concrete acceptance. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to getting to know Bella."

A long heart-stuttering pause, the heavy throb of my pulse in my ears the only sound I heard.

"She seems like a smart, level-headed girl." Pause. "I wish nothing but the best for the two of you."

~*~FotW~*~

The Huskies' locker room, another of the school's summer renovations, boasted state-of-the-art facilities, with elaborate, open-faced lockers for every player. Long benches ran parallel, scattered with equipment bags and players' crap. Gleaming flat-screens flashed with everything from music videos to game replays. But regardless of its bright and shiny newness, like every other locker room I'd ever occupied, the sounds of music playing, showers running, and guys cutting up blended into a sort of soothing background noise that usually gave me a sense of peace and comfort. This was familiar, the home turf.

But as much as the busy sounds of the locker room usually eased me, today nothing penetrated. I leaned forward, propping my forearms on my thighs, flipping the narrow slip of paper over and over in my hand.

After the call with Uley, there was no escaping the reality of the situation.

Time to put word to action and move on with the whole Girlfriend Game bullshit.

So whatever, I thought, straightening my shoulders with fresh determination. She had boring brown hair; my fingers tingled as I imagined reaching out and touching it. So her eyes were plain brown, too. They sparked with a fierce sort of intelligence and I expected, considering our encounters so far, that I wouldn't be bored in her company.

What she lacked in appearances, she made up for by raising my curiosity. Moments after staring up at me tongue-tied, she marched over and laid down a dare. Who wouldn't be curious about a girl like that?

I'd laid the groundwork this morning at That Place, though Em had already razzed my lame ass for the "Girls" opening line.

Yeah, that'd been lame.

But I'd never had to pursue a girl before, didn't know the exact way of things. In the past, I picked a girl, fucked her, and she left. Simple. Uncomplicated. This bullshit of flirting, dating, pursuing…I grimaced.

"So where's my ticket, Cullen?"

I looked up to find Em hulking over me like the fucking jolly green giant. I held out the slip of paper.

He took it, reading it quickly before looking back at me. "Taking my Jeep?"

Moronic question since we both knew I was currently without transportation. Since totaling the cherry Z last fall, my parents had deemed it suitable punishment to saddle me with Mom's beater Volvo station wagon. The old wagon had carried me to my first little league try-out. No fucking wonder it had died Wednesday night, though my mother had carried on like I'd killed her favorite child.

So yeah, we were taking his Jeep. I looked around. A couple of guys were packing up used towels and shit, but no other players remained. Everyone from breakfast was heading to the roller derby thing, and I'd made it known as soon as I'd entered the locker room before training that I expected all the freshmen to be there, as well as anyone who cared to stay in my good graces.

Word spread fast that some chick had the balls to challenge me, and while that fact alone wouldn't be more than half interesting, the fact that I'd accepted the dare? People thought girls were obsessed with gossip, but the truth of the matter was that they had nothing on guys. The fact that I was going to some bullshit roller derby on the dare of some chick? That news spread far and wide. I added fuel to the fire by making it clear I expected the Huskies football program to fill every available seat at the event.

I wasn't sure what my next move needed to be. I got the feeling simply asking her out wasn't going to be the right choice. I could show at her derby today and claim a date as my G-rated victory spoils, but that seemed too predictable.

I looked up at Em, towering over me with an expectant expression. "What?"

"We don't get our asses moving, we'll miss it."

I shrugged off a weird sense of uneasiness. Scowling, I shoved my feet into my shoes and rose off the locker bench. "It's called making an entrance."

~*~FotW~*~

The fact that it took Em ten minutes to find a parking spot should have clued me in to the fact that this derby shit was bigger than I realized. I knew my comments to Bella about her skating were stereotypical, but I honestly knew nothing about the sport. Certainly had no idea that a Sunday afternoon match would fill up the community center parking lot. We passed the gate attendant our vouchers, had our hands stamped in neon yellow, and snaked through the wide corridors with the rest of the late arrivals.

The corridor opened up onto a large rectangular room, complete with a set of bleachers at either end and a disco ball dangling over the center. I registered all this subconsciously, as the instant I broke through the crowd, my gaze fastened on the slender figure of a girl outfitted in a poofy pink, black and silver tutu ducking under the grasp of several other much larger skaters to rocket to the front of the group. From there she powered around the track ahead of another fast-moving female.

This Bella bore no resemblance to the quiet one. This was the Bella who rocked a guitar riff tattoo and had the balls to challenge me more than once.

Somehow I managed to acknowledge the shoulder claps and congratulations from fans as I moved through the crowd, but my every muscle tensed and released as I was pulled ever closer by her irresistible gravitational force.

Closer to this unlikely girl.

While her appearance was dramatically altered, she moved around the track with perfect confidence. She reminded me of the night she'd grabbed my attention dancing, her motions then as now, sure, fluid, graceful. Purposeful.

"Skaters only on the track."

I looked down to see a scrawny guy guarding the edge of the gray derby track. I scowled, irritated that he'd forced my attention off Bella, and held up my yellow-stamped wrist. "VIP."

He pointed to the side of the room, but just then the girls swooshed by me and I couldn't have cared less what he said.

I stared, incredulous, as she ripped past one girl, practically swept under another, and leapt over the legs of a fallen skater. Girls reached out for her, not with their hands exactly, but by leaning and body blocking. Others attempted to slow her progress with trips and tricks, but Bella proved ruthless in her maneuvering through the tangled pack. She nimbly avoided pitfalls as she made her way closer and closer to the front. Once there, she made some sort of hand signal and the ref skating in the center blew a whistle. The skaters all straightened, easing off their relentless jostling and looped back around the track.

Em nudged the back of my shoulder as he moved by, and I tore my fascinated stare away from the track to follow him. We passed crowds of people, some holding signs decorated with images of cupcakes and skates, others with red and black skulls and crossbones. My gaze moved with curious fascination from person to person, seeing representatives from every mundane and alternative lifestyle imaginable. Huskies players sat interspersed throughout.

Two rows of chairs bordered opposite sides of the track, the bleachers boxing in the short ends. As we made our way closer to the designated VIP section, the Slammers girls started plopping into the front row of chairs. I quickened my pace as I saw people in the back row, mostly guys and younger girls, shifting around and filling up the available seats. I sat one off behind Derby Girl, recognizing the teeny-bopper from the car ride the other night directly behind her.

The girl leaned up between Bella's chair and the next, her motions excited and animated as she congratulated Bella on what was apparently a successful play. Derby Girl had yet to realize I had arrived, and I took the opportunity to absorb her changed appearance at closer range. She was focused on the teen, but sitting half twisted toward me. A bright pink star covered her right eye, her left done up with dark sparkly make-up. Even her lips glistened. She wore a strapless top of some sort that cupped her tits in black shiny material, a big pink cupcake splayed over one breast with the number seven written on it.

A quick glance up and down the row revealed a certain Slammers theme—all pink, silver, black and girly. Lots of tutus, sparkles, and drama, nothing exactly the same, but all maintaining a certain sugar sweet theme.

Across the way, their opponents epitomized the Serious Skater—matching shorts and simple team jerseys in black and red.

But serious or not, a glance at the scoreboard showed the over-the-top girly Slammers were well in the lead.

It was too loud for me to hear, and I had no idea how derby worked, so even the bits I caught made little sense. Music blared and the fans in the bleachers cheered, but as I sat there taking it in, I realized there was a rhythm to their cheering. "Rush, rush, rush! Bring on the Sugar Rush!"

The music and shouts settled down when the ref blew his whistle. The girls shoved out of their chairs and started skating again.

I leaned closer to the teeny-bopper, raising my voice to be heard over the noise. "So what's happening?"

"What are you doing here?"

I didn't miss the suspicion in her voice, but ignored it. "Bella gave me a pass."

Her mouth popped open. "Why would she do that?"

I laughed. I could go with, "Obviously, she's got the hots for me and wants me around," but somehow I didn't think she'd believe something that simple. Of course, nothing was forcing me to say anything at all. I took in her pink, black and silver outfit and opted for deflecting. "What are you, the mascot?"

She rolled her eyes, and then turned back to watch the track.

I nudged my knee gently against hers. "C'mon, Mini, fill a guy in."

She remained mutinously silent. A whistle blew and the girls started hauling ass around the track again. I zeroed in on Bella but addressed the girl on my right. "Obviously Bella wants me here if she gave me a pass." She snorted. "Cut me some slack and give me the play-by-play."

Her fingers fisted into a ball on the back of Derby Girl's vacant chair. "Bella's the jammer. See the star on her helmet? She's got to get free of the pack—see, watch how she swings low there in the turn? She's really fast—then skate all the way around the track again to the back. She's got to beat the other team's jammer, the one with the star in red and black."

As we watched, one of the other players shoved into Bella's side as she attempted to pass, knocking Bella sideways. Her body wobbled as she fought not to cross the boundary line of the track and I was sure she would wipe. But no sooner than the thought registered, Bella righted herself and powered forward and across to the inside curve. As they moved along, girls falling, shoving, howling and screaming, Bella jumped over arms and legs and broke from the pack again.

"Like that?"

The girl beside me leapt to her feet, screaming, "Go, Sugar Rush, go!"

My fascinated gaze trained on Bella as she whipped around the track, her long-ass legs sleek, strong and wrapped in fishnet propelling her faster and faster. My assumption the other night in the car had been fucking spot on. Bella had the sexiest legs I'd ever seen and as I watched her athleticism in action when she far out-distanced the other girl, I couldn't help but be impressed.

She sped up on the rear of the entangled skaters, the pack moving slower now as half of them moved to block Bella's progress. But she was merciless and began a complicated dance of once again weaving under, around and over the others to make it back to the front of the pack. There, she patted her hips in that exaggerated motion again. The sound of a ref's whistle broke my mesmerized stare.

She skated toward the sideline again, and I knew a huge grin split my lips as I stood. "Fuck me, Derby Girl. You kicked their ass."

Her breath came quick and sharp, evidence of her exertions. I took in her flushed face, saw the pink deepen at my words and let my grin kick up at the side. The other skaters called out congratulations and high-fived one another as they bustled around the row of chairs, wiping themselves down with towels, throwing back hydration. But Bella's gaze held mine, and I spoke before I lost her attention, the words spontaneous and easy. "I'm going to have to congratulate you properly after this match."

Her gorgeous brown eyes widened. Her lips moved, but in the racket, I couldn't catch her words. "What's that?"

She straightened, and I realized abruptly that the top of her head reached just about to my chin. If she stood close enough, I could probably rest my chin right on the top of her head. Absently, it occurred to me that I wouldn't mind testing that theory.

"Bout," she said then, louder.

I cocked a brow at her questioningly.

"Not a match, but a bout."

Her breathing had slowed, but she still seemed a little out of it. I reached beneath her chair for a water bottle from the cooler I'd noticed earlier, twisted off the cap and passed the cold bottle to her. "Then I'll take you for a proper congratulations after your bout."

She blinked up at me another long second, then seemed to focus with unprecedented determination on bringing the bottle to her lips and drinking. Her head tilted back, the delicate lines of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the feminine dip of her collarbone all on display. In that moment, with her hair pulled back into two low pony tails and face made up with dark make-up, the snug top cupping her tits, the fishnets encasing her legs, she was the antithesis of the tightly-wrapped nun I'd first labeled her.

She finally lowered the water bottle, her pink tongue slipping out to get the drop of liquid lingering on her wet lips. "We have one more jam. Then I have to change."

I reached out and flipped the edge of her tutu. "If you insist."

Another round of cheers blanketed the community center, the chanted "Sugar Rush" clear as day now. And smack in the center of the bleachers, two guys held up a sign. As I read, "Let's jam, Sugar Rush," I made the connection. Those cheers were for Bella. Quiet, mousy Bella. I made a show of eyeing the back of her costume. "Sugar Rush, huh?"

"It's a derby name. We all have them."

"And seven."

She grimaced, took another swallow of water before answering. "The irony."

I grinned. "Sure as shit, Derby Girl, putting on a show."

I wouldn't have believed it possible, but the blush in her cheeks intensified and her eyes dipped down to my lips. I held my smile, slipped my tongue out in a knowing tease.

Her eyes dilated, the black crowding out the warm chocolate of her irises until she abruptly whirled and focused her attention determinedly back on the track.

She wanted a taste of me and suddenly I was eager to give it to her. This was going to be easier than I realized. Perhaps this Girlfriend Game would be about more than satisfying my curiosity and pulling one off on Uley. I'd persuaded Sam that choosing Bella Swan, resident braniac and good girl, would fulfill his stated requirements. I knew Uley thought he'd backed me into a corner, knew he'd been surprised when I'd tossed him her name. He'd wasted no time before delving into the university databanks looking for a hitch, I had no doubt. Looking for a way to pull the leash he thought he had securely wrapped around my neck. But I was no idiot, and by involving Coach in the conversation, I'd essentially left him no alternative but to acquiesce to my choice of Bella—she fulfilled his requirements.

But Uley didn't know how Bella stirred my curiosity.

How the skin at the back of my neck burned at the idea of tasting her lips.

She was a contradiction. My response to her was a contradiction. In parts, I found her boring. In person, she intrigued the hell out of me.

I wanted to know her secrets. Why the seemingly quiet girl rocked a Smashing Pumpkins riff from a song about love, lust, strength and devotion.

How the staid brainiac filled out her derby costume so fucking well.

She turned back to me then, passed me the water bottle with directions to wait for her in the parking lot after the bout. And knowing girls as I did, I expected to be hanging around at least half an hour, probably more. This suited me fine, since I had to convince Em to give up his Jeep and find another way back to the AC. Last I'd seen my friend, he'd been trailing Bella's girl Rose toward the make-shift locker room, but when I checked, the beast of a bouncer barred the entrance and instructed me to make my way out of the facility.

As I exited into the parking lot, I caught sight of Megan standing beside a little red Mini Cooper with another girl. Something in the way they stood, not just their proximity, but with an air of intimacy I recognized, made a fist tighten in my gut as I remembered my words in the car the other night.

Before I could process the reaction, someone yelled out. Three guys were making their way into the parking lot, as well, and obviously recognized the vibe between Megan and her friend just as I had. The biggest in the group shouted again. "Kiss her, shorty! Make it good!" They elbowed each other, vastly amused by their own idiocy.

Megan whirled, her expression startled, quickly morphing to mortified.

The guys stopped at the Cooper, crowding closer to the two girls, saying something else I couldn't hear. But I didn't need a script to figure out what was going down. I picked up my pace.

"Shut up, Derek," Megan shouted, her voice edged with something uncomfortably close to desperation. She whirled away from the guys, moving with her friend to the front of the parked car, but Derek grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop. The other girl grabbed on to Megan, too, and the image of a human tug-of-war flashed through my mind. But I'd reached them and with no hesitation, I fisted my hand in the back of Derek's shirt, yanked, and shoved him face first into the hood of the red Mini.

"What the fuck?"

My hand in the center of one of the other guy's chests stopped his forward momentum. He grunted but didn't try to force his way any closer. I sent him a look that promised a painful ass-kicking if he moved then shifted my attention back to Derek.

I let off my hold a little, and as soon as he started to struggle up, I slammed his head back onto the hood. "Chill, asshole."

I could hear the sounds of a crowd gathering, and my promises to Coach echoed in my ears. I couldn't afford attention, but no way was I letting this fucker off, either.

I leaned over him, spoke at the side of his head. "You're a little tool, messing with a girl who knows trash when she sees it. Consider this your warning. Stay the fuck away from Megan, away from her friend. They don't see you, ever. Get me?"

I knew the instant he recognized who held him down, felt his body go stiff then slack with surprise. His slitted eyes turned on me. I pressed his head harder to the hood, until his face distorted against the cool metal. "Don't think to fucking challenge me, dickless. Whatever you think might happen, it'll be worse. Guaran-fucking-tee it."

I jerked him up. He nodded stiffly, his eyes now looking anywhere but at me. "Apologize to Megan and her friend for being the sorry little douche you are. Then get lost."

He mumbled, "Sorry, Megan, Shawna," and I released him to let him stumble over to his friends, who I finally realized were being guarded by Emmett. I tilted my chin at him then turned back to the girls. "You good?"

Megan blinked fast, her eyes glassy, before inhaling sharply and nodding, fierce, proud. "Yes."

Alrighty, then. I turned to Em. "I need the Jeep."

He laughed. "That right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Need to take Bella out to celebrate her win."

"And how am I supposed to get back to the AC?"

Looking past Em, I could see Bella hurrying toward us. From her expression, I knew she'd seen the little altercation. "Asshole, give me the keys."

"Shawna and I can give you a lift." Megan's voice, sweet and tentative, saved the day.

"There ya go."

Bella wasn't the only one walking toward us and I couldn't help thinking I was skirting the edge of a fucking spectacle. I snatched the keys from Emmett's hand the instant he dug them out of his pocket. Brushing past him, I made toward Derby Girl, and even coming down from the adrenaline, I couldn't help but notice the stringy fringe of her cut-off shorts flittering around the tops of her thighs. She'd changed into some sort shirt that seemed to be see-through, but as hard as I stared, I couldn't get catch a glimpse of skin. She'd washed her face of the dark make-up and looked prettier, somehow. I didn't let myself consider the contradiction of my thoughts. She had one hand wrapped white-knuckle tight around the strap of her bag, her gaze tangling with mine.

This was it.

I'd flirted with the idea of being up-front, explaining my situation, but the risk of her turning me down, leaving me in the clutches of Uley's design, was too great. I felt like a chaotic storm surrounded me, that if I didn't do this, at least attempt to control this aspect of the bullshit, I'd be lost. I'd fail and everything I'd ever worked for, every dream I'd dared nurture, would be ripped away.

I sank into the habit of stoicism that had seen me through more than one tough spot. This was no different, just another obstacle to overcome.

Her shirt hung off both shoulders, her wild brown hair unbound now and fluttering around her bare shoulders and drawing my attention to her chest. I didn't see a bra strap today, and the idea that she went without had my dick twitching in interest. She didn't have tits to overflow my hands, but the shadow between was respectable enough.

And her legs.

There was no fucking denying my appreciation for her long, sexy legs, which was a big fucking surprise. I've always been about the tits, never the legs. I loved to bury my face between two lush mounds, suck and lick until the girl they were attached to writhed, but today...if I focused on her fuck sexy legs, I'd forget about the rest of her and could definitely work up enough interest to give my pursuit the authenticity it needed to be believable to the rest of the world.

I reached down and grasped her hand. "Jeep's this way."

Her fingers flexed under mine, then relaxed. "Where are we going?"

I had no idea, so deliberately misunderstood. "The red soft top."

Her hand squeezed mine and she laughed, falling into step beside me. "The one with no top, you mean, and no doors and with the humongo tires? That one?"

I looked at Em's pride and joy, the elevated vehicle, oozing big boy toy attitude, and grimaced, preparing for whining about messed up hair and whatever other girly complaints she would toss out. I walked us to the passenger side, made to lift her up into the bucket seat.

"One sec," she said, tugging her hand free of mine and fishing around in her bag.

My fist clenched over empty air and something like disappointment whipped through me, but then she was scraping her hair back into some sort of rubber band. When she tilted her chin up to meet my gaze, she smiled. "Now I'm ready."

She'd missed a bit, a slip of hair shining in the afternoon sunlight along the curve of her cheek. Without thought, I reached out and tucked it back behind her ear. My fingers lingered, her hair as slippery and silky as I'd expected. "You missed some."

Twin pink flags in her cheeks, she looked up at me. "I always seem to." She tipped her head to the side, dislodging my hand. "Lift me up?"

For a second, I didn't move. A strange prickling rose up between my shoulder blades, but I shrugged it off and put my hands to her waist. I lifted her easily, placing her sideways in the passenger seat, her legs dangling a moment, before landing on the running board. As soon as she found her footing, she shoved back into the seat, turning to yank the seatbelt on.

I'd freaked her out again, obviously, and rather than annoying me, I felt a grin parting my lips. I jumped up on the running board, reached in and pretended to double check her seatbelt, letting my chest brush close. Her sharp inhalation had my grin turning wicked. "All good?"

Her fingers gripped the edges of the bucket seat, and she studiously avoided my gaze. "Yeah."

"You all right, Derby Girl?"

A little V appeared between her brows, and she bit down on her lower lip but still refused to meet my gaze. I placed a single finger on the stubborn curve of her jaw, applied the gentlest of pressure until she relented and looked at me. Her brown eyes sparkled with those quicksilver golden lights I'd first noticed the night of the rally, and I could read the fascination there, the feminine desire in the hitch of her breath.

"You're messing with me," she finally said. "Is this you collecting on the dare?"

I shook my head, my finger drifting along her jaw, until my hand cupped the side of her neck, my thumb smoothing over her cheek. "It's not. This is about us celebrating your win today." My thumb made another pass. "You'll know when I collect what you owe me."

She blinked up at me, confusion shadowing her eyes. "Then I'm lost."

"Maybe when I kiss you later, things'll become a little more clear to you."

A/N: Once again, overflowing heaps of thanks to Jenny and JulieToo at PTB for their beta expertise. Honestly, I thought I was doing better on the commas. Obviously, I block out bad habits. New Year's resolution, I guess! Thanks so much for your patience and help improving this chapter, including your reassurance about Edward's mixed signals :)

And, Jayhawbb, thanks again for pointing out the "yo, remember, he's a college kid!" oopsies and keeping me on track. The validation and reassurances are a balm to my insecure lil heart.

Last, I'm super behind on my review responses, but swear to you I read and savor every single one! Thank you so much for reading Flavor!

Oh, oh! Almost forgot! FotW has a banner now thanks to EvilNat! And I LOVE it! Thanks so much! I've added it as the cover image for the story and will make a link to it, soon!