AN: Thanks for all the support & reviews, as always! So great news, if any of you were reading Bella-of-the-Ball's great story, Volterra Rocks!, you heard the sad news that she was giving her stories away. I'm thrilled to be able to announce that I'll be helping the great Halojones continue this story. I do promise, however, that it won't interfere with either this story OR Turning Dust into Gold.

BPOV

I glanced down and smoothed the fabric, the red of the cocktail dress so bright that I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. It was like a train wreck and all I could think was, "Why am I getting married in a red dress?"

I looked more like a waitress at the Golden Nugget or another cheesy casino than a bride.

Hell, why was I getting married at all?

It was only as I thought the word, "bride," then, "married," that I realized that for me to be a bride or for there to be a wedding at all, there'd have to be a groom. . . .

Looking down the long (did aisles always look this interminably long to brides?) walkway, I saw a single figure waiting for me. Naked.

I wanted to look down or even better, sink through the floor. I thought that in dreams, you were always the one who was naked. I guess my REM cycle had decided to switch it up.

Without taking a single step forward, I felt myself moving towards the unclothed man. I knew I was at least as red as my dress. At first, he was just a blurry figure—and honestly I was happy to keep him that way—but the closer I got, the more distinctive he became until I knew exactly who he was.

Edward Cullen. I was about to marry Edward Cullen. My heart sped up and I felt distinctively nauseous.

I opened my mouth to apologize, either because we were getting married or maybe because I was making the mistake of getting married in a red cocktail dress, but before I could say a word, I heard a terrible ringing sound.

It sounded so familiar, but at the same time incredibly foreign. A sound you'd never want to hear at a wedding ceremony. . .

I shot up in bed and blindly groped first for the lamp, gave up on finding the switch in my sleepy clumsiness, and then felt around for my ringing cell phone.

Finally, I managed to find its distinctive rectangular shape on the table, and I flipped it open without even checking the caller ID. I wasn't even sure I could read it without my glasses anyway, and if I tried to find those, the call would never get answered.

"Hello?" I said groggily.

"Bella? This is Edward. Edward Cullen."

I nearly dropped the phone like it was a cobra about to strike. Had he known I'd just been dreaming about him? That we were about to get married? Why was he calling me?

After a moment of panicked silence, he continued a bit awkwardly, "You said I could call if I couldn't sleep. . ."

Yep, I did tell him that. Not that I ever thought in a million years he'd follow through with it, or that he'd pick me to call to help him relax.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I was just sleeping. Need a minute for the brain to wake up."

"I'm the sorry one. I shouldn't have called and woken you up." His voice sounded repentant and guilty and I couldn't stand it. If he wanted to call me—if I was really who he wanted, then who was I to argue?

"No, no, no. Don't be sorry. I'm just cranky when I wake up. So you couldn't sleep?"

There was a loud, frustrated sigh from Edward.

"Not at all." The irritation he obviously felt was rife in his voice.

"And you usually don't have any trouble?" I felt like I was having to drag this out of him a bit at a time, and he insisted that he even trusted me. I didn't even want to know how reticent he was with people he didn't trust.

Another sigh. "Never. I'm kind of notorious on the team actually, for my ability to sleep anywhere, for as long as I want."

"And you can't do that anymore?" I knew I was prying a little, but what else was I supposed to do when he called me up in the middle night and told me he couldn't sleep?

"I wouldn't be calling you then, would I?" Edward's voice was teasing a little now, and I let my mind wander a little, thinking of him lying in his bed, the covers rumpled around him, clothed only in a pair of boxers.

Gah, Bella, don't go there. You'll only offer to come over and help him get to sleep.

"True," I laughed a little self-consciously. "So how do you feel about the race tomorrow?"

"The 400 IM? I'm more excited than nervous. It's one of my best events, and in the prelim I broke the record without even trying. But honestly, I don't want to talk about swimming."

"No? Does it make you feel anxious to talk about swimming?"

"Not at all. It's just what I talk about with everyone else. I want us to talk about more."

"More?"

"Like. . .what kind of music do you listen to?"

I smiled. "Oh, you know, a little bit of everything." Two could play this game, I thought with relish.

"You are such a tease," Edward laughed, and I leaned back in bed, smiling so hard I thought my face would split in half.

"Never," I smirked sarcastically.

"Okay, so if you won't tell me, then I'll tell you . . ."

"Like what you listen to on your iPod before you swim?" I interrupted, digging a pad out of the bedside table. If he was going to wake me up I was going to use what he said—as long as it had nothing to do with what was rapidly blossoming between us despite my better judgment.

"Exactly. Believe it or not, it's none of this jazzed up on crack rap stuff that guys like Tyler listen to. I'm usually so hyped up and excited before a race anyway, I need something to relax me, focus me. So a lot of classical music in my iPod before a race."

"Like what kind of classical?" I asked as I tucked the cell phone under one ear and began to busily scribble away.

"Debussy is my favorite," Edward said.

"Really? I love Debussy too, though my favorite is probably Rachmaninoff."

"You listen to classical music?" he asked, a definite note of interest and surprise in his voice.

"I guess, like you, I find it calming and relaxing. Have you tried listening to Debussy to help you sleep?"

He sighed. "Oh yeah. Didn't work. But you want to know something? Your voice calms me even more than Debussy."

I knew that traveling to Beijing—to the other side of the world—would be a major point in my life. What I didn't know was that I would meet the most amazing man I could ever dream of.

Sitting in the stands of the Water Cube with Alice and Jasper, I tried to take some deep calming breaths. If I'd thought that realizing I might love Edward Cullen had filled me with nervous excited butterflies capable of inducing a panic attack, watching him swim competitively live was much much worse.

Luckily, the first race this morning was Edward's 400 IM final.

He'd been so incredibly dominant yesterday that I tried to think that this wouldn't be a very nerve-wracking race to watch. He'll demolish the competition, I assured myself. Except that my heart rate was spiraling out of control, and they had yet to announce any of the swimmers for the final.

"I don't know why they choose to do the finals in the morning," I hissed to Alice, "I haven't been awake long enough to deal with all this stress."

Alice, absorbed in combing through the crowds for celebrities, glanced my direction and then looked back again more carefully. "Bella, you look almost green," she said with a note of worry in her voice.

"That's because I'm freaking out here," I nearly yelled at her.

"Geez, Bella, we're right here." Jasper's voice was good natured and he smiled at me kindly but even that didn't help. It was if I could see myself from a long distance away—and I could acutely sense my hyperventilation but there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

Naturally, this was the moment the deep-voiced announcer choose that moment to announce the race, and its final competitors.

Each swimmer's name and country was announced. Then their accomplishments were repeated in English, French, then Chinese.

Edward was in lane four, due to his world record performance yesterday. He strode out onto the deck, eyes focused hard on the pavement, not even looking up. His beautiful hair was totally covered up with the swim cap, and he looked like an alien—totally unlike the man I'd gotten to know.

But, I told myself, this is the man he is. Pool water runs in his veins. He's more comfortable in a swimsuit than in street clothes.

Finally, they finished announcing the field, and I watched as Edward took off his warm-up suit and ear buds.

As the zipper on his jacket descended downward, I was transfixed by the smoothly muscled skin gradually exposed to my view. We'd been running late yesterday and had missed the disrobing part of the introduction. All I knew was that we were never going to be late again and miss this.

Even though the whole enormous crowd could see him, and were probably close to being as transfixed as I was, it didn't matter—I felt as if this was just for me.

Then his eyes looked up, found me as if it was the easiest thing in the world to pick one person out of thousands, and then I knew for sure, from the way our gazes locked, that I hadn't been wrong or crazy.

He held my gaze like I was his favorite lifeline, and he didn't break it until he had to, until he was forced to pull the goggles over his green eyes, and put himself away from me.

"Phew," Alice sighed out a long-held breath. "I think I'm on fire and I was only sitting next to you." She over-dramatically fanned herself and I blushed.

"That's just because he's half naked," I teased back.

"Nope," Alice disagreed, "it's because that boy is crazy about you."

"Hush," I snapped good-naturedly. "The race is about to start."

Nerves coalesced in my stomach and my hands twisted in my lap again. I just wanted this over with, so I could maybe relax. Unless something went radically wrong, I knew he'd win the gold, but still, the small possibility that he'd lose sent waves of nervous nausea coasting through me.

"It'll be fine," Alice reassured me, leaning over and squeezing my twisted together hands.

"You don't know that," I argued.

"Yesterday he breezed right through that record like it was a walk in the park. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Besides, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to lose in front of you."

"That has nothing to do with it," I protested hotly.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Then you really don't get it. Why do you think he broke the record yesterday so effortlessly?"

"Training and practice," I insisted stubbornly.

"Whatever, Bella," Jasper piped up. "Watch him today. And then I think you're going to realize that while of course he wants to win for him, right now he wants to win for you even more."

I sighed and turned back toward the figure bent over the blocks. He seemed unbelievably determined, but I told myself that this was normal. He'd have to be incredibly determined to be swimming in these Olympics with a shot at six gold medals.

I'd never seen anyone look so incredibly powerful as he did, poised to spring into the water. And when he finally did, it was with an innate grace that only seemed to make his power even more intense.

And naturally, he demolished the competition. Though I sat through the whole race with compressed lips and hands, praying silently that his dream wouldn't die before it even started, he led the whole race, most of it by a significant margin. On top of that, his gold medal victory came with yet another world record.

And right after he checked his time and placement on the big leaderboard and let out a fist pump of victory, his eyes found me in the audience once again and I knew his resounding smile, despite beaming to everyone in the Water Cube through its sheer wattage, was meant for me and me alone.

"See?" Alice pointed out to me with a bit of a smirk. "I told you that he'd win and he'd win it for you."

"I really doubt that the win was only for me," I replied back, more than a little sarcastically, "I think he probably wanted it a little too."

Alice would only know knowingly in response to my sarcasm.

There were several more races for us to watch this morning, but I knew I couldn't bear to sit through any more the moment he walked by our part of the stands, all dripping wet muscle and intense happiness. Then he shot me a devastating wink, and I shot to my feet, knowing I'd pretty much break into the back part of the Water Cube for a chance to congratulate him personally and privately—though the doubtful part of me insisted that there were a million other more important people that he'd want—no, need—to talk to.

Still, I didn't listen, and as I inched my way through the crowd, I thought of every convincing reason I could employ, in addition to my press pass.

Finally I was free of the stands, and prowling down the outside halls, I went straight for the door I'd been directed to the night before, and tried the knob. Unlocked.

As unobtrusively as I could, I slipped through the open door and was immediately greeted by a small Chinese man whose badge cleared identified him as security. Damn.

"Hello," he said ingratiatingly in perfect English, "do you have clearance for this area?"

I held out my press pass and started praying. My hopes sunk when his eyes took on a calculative gleam.

"You are press? You are covering a specific story?"

"Yes, yes," I said, grateful for the opening. "I am working with Edward Cullen, the swimmer. I need to find him."

"You are Bella Swan then?" he asked, examining my press badge more closely.

"Yes."

"Good. Mr. Cullen said you would be by."

"Edward?" I asked hopefully.

"No. Mr. Carlisle."

I was still absorbing the news that Edward's father had known I would be coming down here and had prepped the security team to expect my arrival as we walked down the corridor towards what I assumed was the cooldown pool.

We came out into a large room—not as large as the main arena of the Water Cube, but still a significant size—with a pool in it. I could see quite a few swimmers cooling down, but everyone stayed away from the far two lanes, as if everyone knew to give Edward his space.

"Here you are, Ms. Swan. Mr. Cullen likes to cool down on the far side." The security guard gave a very unsecurity-esque bow and left.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Was I just supposed to go to him? Would that look creepy? Stalkerish? The last thing I wanted to do was freak him out.

"You should just go talk to him," I heard from behind me.

Whipping my head around, I saw Carlisle Cullen standing there, with a smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

"Really?"

"He's probably dying to see you. I wouldn't be surprised if he's working out a way to do it right now. Edward likes to think while he cools down."

"You think?" I knew I was sounding more than a little lost, but I couldn't help it—I'd never felt so out of my league. That was Edward Cullen swimming over there. Edward Cullen, who'd just won a gold medal, and who would probably win more.

Just then Esme Cullen appeared behind her husband. Apparently she'd heard the note of doubt in my voice.

"You have no idea, Bella, how much he wants to see you right now. One of the first things he said when he got out of the pool was 'where's Bella?'" Esme said reassuringly.

"Okay," I said with a big smile. I wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but it was ready to stop procrastinating.

I said goodbye to Carlisle and Esme and then began to make my way around the pool, stepping around the puddles carefully because I knew what Alice would do if I got my shoes wet.

I finally made it to the other side of the pool, and just stood there for a second, watching his form through the water. He was lazily swimming, his strokes still perfectly formed, just much, much slower than he'd swam twenty minutes before.

I wondered if he could hear me if I called his name and thought I would feel pretty stupid if I did and nothing happened. But before I could make up my mind whether to risk possible public embarrassment, Edward must have seen me through the corner of his eye because he was all of a sudden upright in the water and swimming toward me with a huge smile on his face.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, and if I hadn't been standing here, watching him with what I hoped was a mostly objective attitude, I would never have guessed that Edward Cullen would be greeting me with such joy.

"Edward! Congratulations!" I stood back a little as he hoisted himself out of the water easily, like he wasn't lifting his whole body by just his forearms. And what forearms they were, I thought in the daze of being confronted with a dripping wet, mostly naked Edward.

"Uh," I stammered, watching one glistening drop of water wind its way down between his impressive pecs and through the maze that was his succulent abdominals.

"Bella, I'm so glad you're here," he enthused, with more than a little genuine interest.

Edward took another step closer, and this time I could almost see all of the Olympic ring tattoo resting nearly on his hipbone. The leg-hugging swimsuit he wore was so low, I glanced down and felt myself begin to hyperventilate. I wanted to lick every ring in that tattoo.

"I'm . . .uh. . .glad to be here. . .with you," I finished lamely, swearing internally at myself for not being able to keep my thoughts PG rated.

"You managed to sneak back here?" Edward asked me a bit distractedly as he looked around for a towel.

I glanced down and saw one resting on a chair two steps to my left. I took one step and tried to grab it, but misjudged the distance and almost went sprawling on the pavement.

Only Edward grabbed me before my body could hit the hard surface.

And even better, he didn't let go immediately after.

My brain was firing at about a million times faster than it normally did and all I could process was, "wet muscles," as my hands went sliding up his incredible arms to rest on his even more spectacular shoulders.

I lifted my eyes to his and I swore I felt his hands tighten around my waist.

"Bella," Edward murmured, "you need to be more careful. I can't have you hurting yourself."

"Sorry," I said, trying to match his coolly sexy tone and I was sure, failing in the process.

"Oh, not that I mind. Holding you is," Edward said a bit dreamily as he bent his head down to bury his nose in my hair, "even better than I even imagined.

My fingers dug into all that amazingly smooth muscled skin, and a thought deep in my head noted that I was probably getting all wet too, but a bomb going off wouldn't have moved me. I wanted to stay right where I was, forever.

Finally, he moved his head up out of my hair and his eyes latched onto mine, much the same way they had earlier today. Then, to my mortification, I began to blush as his gaze shifted slightly downward, to my lips. I licked them nervously, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Bella," he murmured again, and his head dipped closer to mine, and I didn't think I would have noticed if the whole Water Cube burst into flames, I was so engrossed in what was about to be our first kiss. Me and Edward Cullen.

But it was not meant to be.

Just as our lips were about to touch, and my knees were about to give out, I heard a small commotion at the entrance to the pool and I looked over to see Rob Pattinson, Edward's manager, trying to get his attention. Quickly I stepped out of Edward's arms, blushing furiously.

Edward ripped off his swim cap, running a quick hand through his damp bronze hair, sending me into another wave of hopeless lust, and took off for the entrance, throwing me a quick look of apology.

And then, just as quick as the moment had begun, it was already over.

I tried to tell myself that it had been a temporary insanity. Edward had just been excited—he hadn't really intended to kiss me—and it was in this dejected mood that I went to go find Alice and Jasper.

"Where did you go?" Alice hissed, as I sat down and another race geared up to start.

"I wanted to go see Edward."

"How did you get back there?" Alice's questions weren't so much an interview as an interrogation. There was definitely a good reason she hadn't become a reporter.

"Press pass, remember?" I dangled my saving grace in front of Alice, who frowned.

"Even that shouldn't work."

I really hadn't wanted to tell her about Carlisle assuring me of entrance to the athletes' section of the facility and I definitely didn't want to tell her about the almost-kiss that Edward and I had shared.

But of course, that had been a vain hope. Despite her somewhat rough questioning style, Alice knew how to get to the base of the issue faster than almost anyone else I knew, and then there was this almost uncanny sense she had of things before they happened. Coupled together, I knew there was no way I'd be able to hold out against her.

"Carlisle told the security guards to let me in. And, well, I saw Edward and . . ." I whispered as I leaned down towards Alice's ear.

She perked right up. "And?"

"Well, I almost fell," I whispered back, ignoring her eye roll at my clumsiness, "and Edward caught me. And, well, we almost kissed."

"Why almost?" Alice nearly yelled, and I grabbed her and slammed a hand over her mouth.

"Do you want the whole Water Cube to know what's going on?"

Alice shrugged nonchalantly and I almost moaned. "This is supposed to stay secret."

"Why?"

"This isn't going to last, probably, and I don't want everyone to know there was something to begin with when it ends."

Alice rested her head on my shoulder and hugged me close. "You need to stop thinking that way. You and Edward are going to make it, I know." Her voice rang with assurance and confidence but it was hard to believe her still. Edward and I were from such different worlds.

"Will you promise me something?" she asked.

I nodded.

"If you and Edward actually do start something—like if he kisses you this afternoon—promise me that you won't freak out and end it before it begins."

"Uh. . ." I stammered. "I don't know about this. . ."

"Bella," Alice said sternly. "Promise me."

"Fine," I sighed, "I promise not to end it before it begins, though I doubt anything's going to happen anyway."

"Good." Alice turned back to the race that was about to start and I wondered if maybe she'd had one of her intuitions, again.

No, I told myself, you're just imagining things, and hoping she has.

I'd hoped to see Edward again in between his two races, but while heading back to the locker room to find him, I'd run into Carlisle who said Edward had a press conference, followed by a round of drug testing. Then a short nap. There wouldn't be any time for me to see him.

I'd tried to hide my disappointment but I think Carlisle had sensed it.

"Edward will be more available after his afternoon race," Carlisle had said. I'd turned back and went to find Alice and Jasper for lunch, feeling more like a third wheel than ever.

But finally, the afternoon races were over, with Edward easily qualifying for the next round in the 200 freestyle and I was back in the lounge, waiting uncomfortably for Edward to emerge from the locker room.

I was trying to feel more like I belonged here, but with all these muscular and intimidating men and women hanging around, it was difficult, if not impossible.

Just before I was about to give up, Edward walked in, looking so casual and cute and sexy, in his jeans and sweatshirt, bronze hair carelessly falling over his forehead.

He walked right up to me, like all he could see was me. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, grabbing and holding both of my hands with his own.

I nodded. "Aren't you tired? Shouldn't you go to bed?"

"Argh," he groaned, "you should exactly like my father. Don't ever do that again."

"Okay," I giggled a bit helplessly. What was it about this man that reduced me to a drooling mess? Oh that's right, all of him. All of his perfect, muscled, disgustingly charming self.

"I was thinking we could just take a walk around the Olympic green. I haven't been able to see much so far. Is that okay with you?" His green eyes were so intensely focused on me that I was surprised that my tongue hadn't tied into a million knots.

"That sounds great," I smiled up at him.

"Let's go then," Edward said, pulling me a little with the grip he still had on one of my hand's.

I beamed up at him and figured that we were fooling just about no one, but I just couldn't dredge up the feelings to care.

Edward opened the door into a corridor, and proceeded to take me a completely different way than I was expecting. In fact, these hallways were tiny, dark and totally empty. Finally I had to ask.

"Where are you taking me?"

Edward stopped and pulled me to him. "I want to be alone with you," he murmured, despite that there was no one around to overhear.

"We are alone," I pointed out.

Edward smiled, the sheer magnitude of it lighting up the corridor. "You are so smart, Bella. One of the many things I like about you."

"Really?" I whispered as he pulled me even closer.

"Oh, really," he smirked a little. "Now will you stop talking so I can finally kiss you."

My jaw dropped and he laughed. "Did you really think I didn't want to?"

"Well, no, um, I'm not exactly sure."

I leaned in close, and I felt a little dizzy at how good he smelled—not like chlorine at all.

"Bella, I wanted to throttle Rob for interrupting us earlier. But, I figure now it's better because I want us to be alone when it finally happens."

"Okay," I squeaked, letting him pull me even closer to him, until my hands were resting on his chest and I had to crane my neck back a little to get a good look at his incredible face.

"Bella, you are too cute . . ." he said, and he leaned in toward me, and this time there was nobody and nothing to interrupt us. Thank God.

His lips were soft and gentle on mine, and his hands cradled me like I was the most precious possession he could ever hope to own.

Then just as suddenly as his lips had descended, I found my back to the wall and while he was still gentle, the kiss was a lot more insistent. My brain melted and I kissed him back even harder.

"Bella," he groaned when we finally ended the kiss, gasping for breath. "You are too sweet."

"You're not half bad yourself," I smiled into his chest as he held me close to him.

oh whoops. was that a cliffie? at least it wasn't too bad of one. . .can't wait to see what Tami comes up with next chapter!